Call Me Wild (19 page)

“I got some good news today while you were sleeping.”

Fisher looked up from his shepherd’s pie. “My brothers have won the Darwin Award?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s an award given posthumously to those too stupid to live, thereby eliminating them from the shallow end of the gene pool. Accidental self-sterilization also qualifies.”

Jessica chuckled. “Aren’t you part of that same gene pool?”

“Yeah, but I swim in the deep end.”

“More like you’ve gone off the deep end. My friend got me an interview for ESPN. They’re looking for a new female sports reporter. He already sent them a sample of my work and a few on-screen interviews I had on my blog. They want me to fly out to LA the week after next for a meeting.”

“Wow, that’s great. Where’s the job?”

“New York, I think. But there’ll probably be a lot of traveling.”

“Oh.” He held back the word
fuck
, because he didn’t curse in front of women, and he knew he should be happy for her. Happy was not what he was feeling. Panic was more like it, with a mixture of disappointment, and a whole lot of self-pity. “What about your book?”

“I’m still working on it. It’s an interview, Fisher, not a job offer. Still, I have an appointment with my friend’s agent, just in case. I’ve never thought about live broadcasting. I mean, I did some in school, but my size was always against me. Maybe with ESPN it’ll be different.”

“How can your size be anything but an advantage? You’re beautiful, and perfectly proportioned. God, Jess, the way you talk, you’d think you were huge.”

“I am. The average woman is five foot four. I was five nine by the time I was thirteen. I was taller than every kid in my school and most of the teachers. You heard your brother and cousin. They thought I was a man.”

“My brother and cousin both need their eyes checked.”

“I’m five eleven and three-quarters, if I slouch. If I wore heels, I’d be taller than you.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t know why anyone else would either.”

“Yeah, well, you’re definitely in the minority.”

“So, who’s this friend of yours?” He knew damn well who it was. It was that creep who’d left her, the one she said she loved.

“Andrew? We went through Columbia together. We’ve been friends for years. He’s the one who dared me to come out here and gave me his house to stay in. He’s writing for TV now, but he’s hoping to get into screenwriting.”

Fisher wanted to ask more, but didn’t know how without coming off like a jealous asshole, which, when he thought about it, was exactly what he was. “You know, I have some time off coming. Why don’t we go to LA together, maybe head down to San Diego, and stay at the Coronado for the weekend? I promised you romance. This will give me the chance to do it right.”

Jess just about choked on her dinner. “Gee, Fisher, that sounds nice, but I kind of told Andrew I’d hang with him for the weekend. We haven’t seen each other in ages, and well, I wouldn’t feel right just taking off with you and leaving him high and dry.”

Fisher pushed his plate away. “Sure. I understand.” It didn’t mean he liked it. Damn, he couldn’t believe how much he didn’t like it. But he and Jessica had a deal.

“Besides, you’re not going to be able to work until at least Thursday, and even then, you need to take it easy. It wouldn’t look good for you to take off that next week.”

“I got it, Jess. It’s fine.”

“Good. I’ll only be gone for a few days, and by the time I leave, I have a feeling you’re going to be sick of me. You’ll be happy to see me go.”

“Jess, I love you. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you. Well, not in the next fifty years anyway. Come on. Let’s go curl up and watch some TV.”

Jessie got up and collected their plates and put them in the sink. “Why don’t I help you to the den? And then I’ve got to clean up the mess I made. I heard the guy who lives here is anal about keeping everything clean. Then I need to get back to my writing.”

“I’ll take care of the dishes in the morning.”

She slid an arm around him and helped him get up. “Oh no, you won’t. Doctor Gilg said you’re to stay in bed for three days. You’re not to do anything more strenuous than walk from the bed to the bathroom.”

“I know him. He’s a quack.”

“He’s a neurologist. And he warned me about you. Am I going to have to tie you down to get you to stay in bed?”

He nibbled on her earlobe. “I’ve got some silk ties, but I get to tie you down first. To hell with the TV, let’s just go to bed.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t disguise the shiver that ran through her. That was something at least. She might not look him in the eye, but she still wanted him. Of course, that didn’t stop her from dumping him on the couch, handing him the remote and a bottle of water, and running back to her computer as fast as her long legs would take her. “Just yell if you need anything.”

He needed her, and he wanted her tied to his bed—at his mercy. He just didn’t think she was inclined to hear that. Hell, she hadn’t looked him in the eye since he’d told her he’d loved her.

At ten o’clock, Jessica forced him back to bed, claiming to still be working. At four in the morning, he woke alone and found her asleep in his recliner with her computer still running on her lap. He saved her work, moved her computer, and wished he could pick her up and carry her to bed. He was feeling better, but he still wasn’t up for that. Jessica was a handful, in more ways than one.

He tossed the afghan over her and watched her sleep until the sun came up. Feeling the need for caffeine, and wanting to avoid looking like a love-struck adolescent or worse—a creeper—he tore himself away and headed to the kitchen.

He returned with coffee, heard the shower running, and followed the sound. Coffee could wait. Placing the cups on the counter, he tore off his clothes and stepped in beside her.

“Fisher, what the hell are you doing here?”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a kiss. “I brought you coffee, and when I saw you in here alone, I thought I’d join you. Is there a problem?”

“No. I just never showered with anyone before.”

“I don’t make a habit of it myself, but I can make an exception for you.” He poured her shampoo into his hand. “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

She didn’t look too happy about it, but she did. Within a minute he was massaging her scalp and the tension out of her shoulders. “I missed you last night.”

“I worked late.”

“You fell asleep at your computer. I came out to check on you at about four. I saved your work and covered you up. Why didn’t you come to bed? Are you avoiding me?”

“No. I was trying to finish a scene, and I guess I was more tired than I thought. It happens.”

Fisher didn’t believe her, and she still wasn’t looking at him—not like she used to. She might not have left physically, but emotionally, she had checked out. It was as if she’d erected some kind of invisible barrier between them, and he wasn’t sure how to get past it.

Wednesday morning Karma knocked on the front door to Fisher’s house instead of using her key—she knew Fisher would take it away if he remembered she had one. Lord knew he was all over Ben and Hunter about barging in on him and Jessie.

Jessie opened the door, took one look at her, and went back to the recliner. “Fisher’s in his room. Make sure he stays there.”

Karma stepped inside. “Well, hello to you too. I’m fine. How are you?”

“He’s driving me nuts. I think you might need to call for a psych eval.”

“For you or him? Maybe the both of you, huh?” She carried the cooler full of food her mom had packed into the kitchen. “So, what’s my big brother doing now?”

Jessie followed her like Karma knew she would and pulled herself up to sit on the counter. “I went for a run, and I came home to find him doing my laundry.”

Karma did her best to hide her smile as she piled food into the refrigerator. So now she’s calling Fisher’s place home. Cool. “The nerve of him.” She’d lay odds that Fisher scrubbed the bathroom too, but she wasn’t about to say so. Fisher was still pissed at her because she’d sent Jessie to the mountains alone. Maybe Karma deserved it, but she had no idea Jessie would actually climb a mountain, trying to get a cell phone signal. Anyway, Karma was on her best behavior and trying to help Fisher out to get back on his good side. Jessie looked like she was at the end of her rope—and from the looks of it Fisher needed all the help he could get.

Jessie jumped off the counter and paced back and forth between the door and the sink. “Fisher’s not supposed to do anything more taxing than walking from the bed to the bathroom, and he’s doing laundry.”

“What can I say, it’s a sickness. All the men in my family are neat freaks. I’ve just learned to embrace it. Sure, sometimes I go over to their houses and mess things up on purpose. You know, jump up and down on a freshly made bed just to get on their nerves, but really, what’s there to complain about? At least you’re not expected to do it. And I know from Gina and Toni that if you tried, you’d never do it well enough to please them. Take vacuuming, for instance. A normal person just runs the sweeper, giving it a once-over, right? But not Fisher; he vacuums in patterns. He goes up and down through the whole room, then back and forth across it, and then he vacuums on the diagonal.”

“You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Karma backed out of the fridge and turned to Jessie, who looked a little sick. “Afraid not. Some people go to therapy—my brothers, they clean. It’s a lot cheaper, and us girls don’t have to. A win-win situation, if you ask me.”

“Karma, he was washing my underwear.”

“I figure if a guy is close enough to get me out of my panties, he’s welcome to wash them. I’m assuming Fisher’s gotten you out of yours a time or two. Am I right?”

The blush covering Jessie’s face told the story. “I knew you’d be perfect for each other. Fisher owes me big.”

Jessie’s mouth was hanging open.

Karma held up her hand. “But don’t thank me. Just name your firstborn after me. It better be a girl though—just sayin’.”

“But—”

“Thanks to all my hard work, the Kincaid women have almost overtaken the men. When you officially join the family, we’ll be even with the guys—well, if we count Jasmine, Ben, and Gina’s dog.”

“Hold on, Karma. I’m not marrying Fisher.”

“Sure you are. Fisher’s in love with you, that much is obvious, and well, you’re doing a really bad job of avoiding him. There’s not a woman around who can withstand the Kincaid charm for long.”

Jessie started pacing again. “You don’t understand. He’s not in love with me. He just thinks he is because he had his brains scrambled, and I saved his life. Or maybe it’s Stockholm Syndrome—after all, he keeps saying that I’m holding him captive.”

“Na, he loved you before he cracked his head open, and you saved him.”

Jessie stopped and squinted. “How do you know that?”

“Hunter told me.” Karma reached back into the fridge and pulled out a water. “He knows exactly when it happened, or when Fisher had the panic attack, after he finally figured it out. It’s a twin thing.”

“A twin thing?”

She cracked the top and took a long drink. “Yeah. Hunter even called Fisher to make sure he was all right.”

“That phone call?”

“You were there?” She smacked herself on the forehead. “Of course, you were there. So what’d he look like? Damn, I wish you could have gotten a picture. I’d loved to have seen the look on Fisher’s face. So, has he told you yet?”

Jessie ran her hands through her hair and tugged it so tight, her eyebrows rose. “Yeah, but he’s wrong.”

“I don’t think so.” Karma looked at Jessie and winced. Ouch, that’s gotta hurt. Karma would have paid to have seen a shot of Jessie’s face during that conversation too—especially seeing how well she was taking this whole love thing.

“If I just ignore it, maybe when his brain heals, he’ll come to his senses.”

“Wow, denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, is it? So what’s your excuse?”

“My excuse for what?” Jessie released her hair, thank God. Karma didn’t think she’d want to walk down the aisle bald.

“For falling in love with Fisher.”

“I’m not in love with Fisher.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Maybe you need a conk on the head to knock some sense into you.”

“I have enough sense to know that romantic love doesn’t exist. It’s lust, plain and simple.”

Karma shrugged and took another sip of water. This could take awhile. “Okay, you’ve been in lust before, right?”

Jessie nodded, but eyed her as if she were looking for Karma’s angle. Smart girl.

“Did the guys you were in lust with drive you nuts the way Fisher does?”

“No. But then I never spent much time with them.”

“And why was that?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“And I suppose if one of them had gotten hurt, you would have been there for him, taken care of a guy you never spent much time with, right? You’d spend the night, waking him up every hour to make sure he didn’t slip into a coma and die, worry about him doing laundry behind your back, make sure he took his medicine.”

“Um… they’d never have asked. We didn’t have—” She stalled with her mouth open and her hand moving as if trying to gather the invisible Scrabble letters necessary to come up with the right word.

Karma took pity on her and helped her out. “You didn’t have the connection you have with Fisher. You didn’t love them. Hate to tell you, but you’re head-over-running-shoes in love with Fisher. Jessie, welcome to the family.”

“But—”

Karma picked up the cooler she’d brought food over in. “Wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve got to get to work.” She waved on her way out. Her work here was done. “Karma has left the building.”

***

“I thought I heard Karma’s voice.”

Fisher was right behind Jessie, so close she felt his breath on her cheek. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there. Staring at the closed door. In shock. Waiting for Karma to come back laughing, saying she was just kidding. But Karma didn’t come back, and Jessie knew damn well Karma hadn’t been joking. She may be wrong, but Karma didn’t think so—complete certainty about everyone and everything seemed to be a Kincaid family trait. As much as Jessie wanted to deny everything Karma had said, that little voice in Jessie’s head kept telling her that Karma had a point—several in fact.

Fisher wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her back against his big, warm body. “Is there a particular reason you’re staring at the front door?”

“Karma just dropped off some food and left.”

“That still doesn’t answer the question.”

“No, no reason.”

“You want to move this starefest somewhere more interesting? Sometimes I stare into the refrigerator until I figure out what to eat. We can try that. Or we can stare at the TV together. We can even turn it on first.”

“Okay.”

“Jess, are you feeling all right, darlin’? You’re beginning to scare me.”

She was beginning to scare herself too. “I’ll live.”

“You’ve been working too hard. Come on.” He steered her down the hall toward the den. “Let’s see what’s on ESPN. That will cheer you up. I’ve got all five of them. I’m sure you’ll find something you want to watch.”

Jessie sat beside him on the big leather couch, pulled her legs up, and curled into him. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the scent of Fisher—Ivory soap, Right Guard, pine, and something intrinsically him. She knew it so well, she could pick him out in a lineup blindfolded.

She’d never noticed what any of her other lovers smelled like. She never noticed how their voice deepened and pupils dilated, changing colors when they got excited, or even what color their eyes were. Hell, she couldn’t even remember how they kissed, or what they looked like when they came. But with Fisher, she knew, she watched, she noticed, and she felt.

“We can watch
SportsCenter
Flashback
.”

“Okay.”

He lifted her and set her on his lap like she didn’t weigh a hundred and forty-five pounds. “Jess, what’s the matter, darlin’? I’ve never seen you so agreeable, not that you’re not agreeable. Shit. I didn’t mean that. Maybe ‘placid’ is a better word. Yeah, you’re definitely not placid, ever, well, except for now.”

“Fisher, do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

She looked him in the eye, and she knew it was true. God, he really did love her. No one in her life had ever looked at her that way before, well, except maybe Andrew… She shook her head. But Andrew loved her like a sister. And with Fisher, she was willing to bet a six-figure book deal that what he felt was the furthest thing from brotherly. “Kiss me.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and that damn dimple winked. “And I thought you were going to ask for something difficult.”

Jessie took a breath a second before his lips touched hers—familiar, exciting, warm. She’d probably kissed Fisher more than any other person on the planet—a plus in her book, since he was one hell of a kisser.

He held her like a delicate flower, and in his arms, she felt like one. He didn’t rush, didn’t take. He teased and played until she sucked on his tongue. And then, it was as if she flipped a switch—or he stepped into Superman’s phone booth. Gone was the easygoing beta, and in his place was a hot, demanding, determined alpha.

Fisher’s hold tightened, the kiss deepened, and he groaned, sending shivers through her heart, her mind, her body. It should scare her, but all she could think of was that she wanted more.

More of Fisher—the nice guy who cooked and joked, taught her how to fly-fish, held her while she cried, and shared everything with her. More of the animal who’d grabbed her, tossed her over his shoulder, and took her to heights she’d never imagined existed. The same man who, even when he had a hard time standing, stood against his brothers and shielded her, had her car towed, and somehow got it fixed without her ever figuring out how.

She straddled him, and then she was the one to groan as his hands grabbed her butt and pulled her tight against him.

Fisher raised his hips and looked into her eyes. She knew that look. “God Jess, you slay me. You test my control—hell, you shatter it. I’ve never lost it before, but with you…”

It was the same for her. She’d cried on him—twice. She never cried, and never in front of anyone, not even her parents—well, not since she was six and broke her arm. With Fisher, after the mortification, and the fear that comes along with possible insanity, she’d felt safe, cared for, cherished. She’d felt loved.

Love—a four-letter word that spelled disaster.

Love—that scary, crazy, thrilling feeling she’d had since she’d met Fisher, the same one she’d had all those times she’d looked at Jamie Babcock, and wondered why he was with her and not the other half-dozen girls falling all over him.

The voice in her head screamed to run, but the look in Fisher’s eyes held her captive. So steady, sure, and possessive, that alpha thing worked like a virtual tattoo, branding her.

Fisher’s phone rang and broke the spell. He picked it up and cringed. “It’s Karma.”

Fisher watched Jessie blanch and wondered if Karma had said something to upset her. He wrapped his arm around Jessie to keep her on his lap and answered, “You stopped by and didn’t even say hi to me?”

“I had to get to work. I’m not allowed to lounge around in bed all day with servants to deliver my meals and take care of my every need.”

“Don’t push it, Karma. I’m off bed rest in a few hours.”

“Oh good. Look, we have a Humpin’ Hannah’s softball game tonight, and you were supposed to play.”

“I’m feeling almost back to normal, but I’m not up for playing softball. Sorry, kiddo.”

“Fisher, I know that. I’m not an idiot. I was just thinking that Jessie could stand in for you. She’s probably a better ballplayer than you are anyway.”

“You’re probably right. Hold on. I’ll ask her.”

He held his hand over the speaker. “I was supposed to play softball tonight, and Karma wants to know if you’ll stand in for me.”

“Sure. Are you going to be okay here alone?”

“I’m off bed rest today, so I’ll go along and watch.”

She gave him an odd look. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on, Jess. I’ve been lying around all week. I’m going nuts. Sitting on the bleachers is no more strenuous than sitting on the couch, especially if you’re out of reach.” He waggled his eyebrows and got a laugh out of her.

“Okay, fine. I’ll play. You watch.”

He took his hand off the phone. “Jessica said she’d play.”

“Great. Just give her your shirt to wear. See you in a couple of hours.”

Fisher tossed the phone down and picked Jessica up. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. Yup, he was definitely feeling better.

“Fisher, put me down. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Just following doctor’s orders. I’ve got a few more hours of bed rest, and I want to put them to good use.”

***

Trapper had watched Jessie walk Fisher to the stands before the game started. Damn, Fisher had it bad. If Trapper ever acted like such a lovesick pinhead, he hoped someone would put him out of his misery and just shoot him.