Crazy Dreams (8 page)

Her heated gaze lasted the entire trip home. My ploy to get her to want me was working, but I was afraid it would backfire. The two of us were playing with fire, and I was damn sure one of us would get burned by the end of the week.

At the apartment, she went straight for her room, to change, I presumed. I went to my own room to grab some fresh clothes and then take a shower. When I emerged out of my room, I was shocked to see Ember fully naked. She walked across the hall into the bathroom and never saw me. She closed the door behind her and locked it.

I stood there, dumbfounded. Her body was amazing. She had curvier hips than I expected and her breasts were pert and full. She walked with confidence, as well she should. She was in better shape than I had her pegged for, with a flat belly. She took good care of herself. Her thighs had muscle definition, and I wouldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel wrapped around my waist.

Stop that!
I scolded myself. I couldn’t think of her that way. I refused. Except I wasn’t thinking with the right head, so all my logical thoughts went out the window. She was hot. All that blonde hair and sea-green eyes… She was every man’s wet dream.

I Googled her the night before. The ads she’d done were nothing short of inspired. She even had an article written about her, about how she refused to let her skin be airbrushed.
How can we justify health and fitness to young girls if they’re not even seeing the real person?
She was a smart girl. Even at nineteen, she had a good head on her shoulders.

Her photo
shoots weren’t risqué, weren’t sexually focused, and she was always fully clothed. More so than she’d been since I met her.

Taking her shirt off on the boat was the perfect torment for me, if that was her intention. I was hard the second I saw all that exposed skin. Her lacy bra was hardly visible until we were back on the boat. The lace did nothing to hide her hardened nipples, either. She actually licked her lips at one point
,
and I thought I’d ravish her right there on the boat. I managed to hold myself back, but I couldn’t help but want her. She was smart, sexy, and had a good heart.

Everything about her called to my soul. Even with my high school sweetheart, Jessica, I never felt as alive as I did with Ember. She brought something out of me, something good and noble. I wanted to be a better man. It was far too soon to be thinking about anything more than living in the moment, but I could easily see myself settling in with her. I wanted that life. For the time being, I was content to just see where things went.

I took a shower and by the time I finished, Ember was dressed and making dinner.
Thank God.
I wasn’t sure how long I could resist her naked. She was just too beautiful, inside and out. Wearing a pair of shorts and my favorite tee, I joined her in the kitchen.

“Need any help?”
I
asked.

She turned to give me a smile. “Umm, sure. Can you chop some tomatoes for the salad?”

“Salad?” I groaned, moving around the island to grab the plum tomatoes and a cutting board. Ember handed me a knife and I started chopping. I worked in a kitchen as a teenager, so I tried to impress her with my killer knife skills.

I sliced my finger.

“Shit!” I grabbed the offended appendage, worried I chopped it right off, but it was still attached.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Ember rushed me, wrapping a kitchen towel around my finger, but not before the blood made me queasy. “Whoa. Easy, big guy,” she said, helping me around the counter to sit on a barstool.

She laid my hand on the counter and started to unwrap the towel. “Don’t touch me.”

She ignored my growl. “Don’t be a baby. I just want to look at it. You might need stitches.” My face must’ve gone white. “It’ll be fine. I’ll stay with you the whole time. Now let me look.”

She continued to pull at the now red material. I looked at the ceiling to keep myself calm. She probed a little at my finger. It didn’t hurt that much, but I knew there was blood. Another wave of nausea washed over me.

“You’re probably going to need stitches,” she declared. “You can look now.” She laughed a little.

I turned my eyes to her. “Don’t give me that crap,” I ground out. “It hurts like a bitch.”

She looked unimpressed. “Mmm, I’m sure it does. Where are your truck keys?”

Oh, hell no.
“You aren’t driving my truck. I’m fine.”

“You’re about to pass out just looking at blood. I’m driving and you can suck it up. Stop being a girl.” Her words cut right to me, right through me. She saw through my bullshit and as much as it irritated me, I respected her for it.

“The keys are hanging in my bedroom,” I muttered.

She took off for my room, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I chanced a glance at my hand and the towel, which was once white, was covered in my blood. I fought for control of my upheaving stomach. I would not throw up. I would not pass out. I closed my eyes for a second, taking several deep breaths.

“Ready to go?”

I opened my eyes and there she was, pretty as hell and giving me a pitying smile. I hated her seeing me like that, so vulnerable. I was a man, dammit! She shouldn’t see me at my absolute weakest point. She was, though, whether I liked it or not.

Ember helped me downstairs and to the truck. She had to help me in the truck. She shoved my ass up there. So much for trying to seduce her. I was embarrassed, but tried not to care. She buckled me in, since I apparently couldn’t get my shit together enough to do it myself.

I remember her climbing up into the driver’s seat, starting my truck up, and then putting her seatbelt on. Then everything went black.

Ember

He was adorable, even if he was a complete idiot. I would have never guessed he had an aversion to blood. I tried not to laugh, but found it difficult when he couldn’t even heft himself into his own truck. I swallowed my laugh when I had to push him up into the seat. He all but rolled into the seat and then he couldn’t buckle.

At the hospital, I left him in the truck but pulled up to the emergency entrance. If it wasn’t for his GPS, we never would have made it. The woman at the desk called for someone to bring a wheelchair and I led him to the truck. It took both of us to get Stone safely out of the truck.

“You’ll have to go park in the visitor’s lot,” the guy pushing Stone’s nearly lifeless body in the wheelchair explained to me.

I gave him a glare but he stood firm, so I hopped in the truck and whipped it into a nearby parking space. I didn’t care that I was over the line. I was too worried about Stone. Granted, it was just a cut, but I wasn’t a doctor–what if he hit an artery or something? The bleeding hadn’t stopped, as far as I could tell.

I raced back into the emergency room and the woman at the counter had me fill out paperwork while they tried to rouse Stone. They were also going to stitch him up. I stared at the paperwork, completely unsure of anything. I knew his name was Stone Tucker.

Middle name? Insurance info? Birthday?

I knew nothing about the man I’d spent the last two days with. I was sure I wanted to sleep with him, but I had no idea who he really was. I didn’t even know where he worked. I knew he did something for a company Dallas worked with, but that didn’t really help me, since I had no idea which company. Dallas was a freelance photographer; he worked for a ton on companies.

I growled in my seat in the waiting room and filled out the paperwork as best I could. There was a lot of missing information. I brought the clipboard back up to the woman at the desk and she smiled at me.

“Mr. Tucker is awake and asking for you,” she said, gesturing for me to go through the door on the right.

I thanked her and walked in the door. Stone’s room was the first one on the right and he was sitting up as the doctor talked to him.
Thank God.

“Ember!” he yelled. “The doctor ish telling me about the medicine he gave me. I feel great.” His words were more than a little slurred.

“Miss Daniels, I’m Doctor Taylor,” the older man in the white coat greeted me, reaching out to shake my hand. “Stone is heavily medicated. He kept passing out whenever we’d wake him. As soon as he saw the blood, he’d be gone. He seems to be doing okay now. He said you’re staying with him?”

“Yes, sir, that’s right. We’re roommates.” I glanced at Stone and held back a laugh. He was snapping his fingers but not making any noise. The motion seemed to fascinate him. “Is he alright?”

“Yes, of course. He’s just a little loopy, and will be for a few hours. The nurse will be in here in just a few minutes with the supplies to stitch him and then we’ll let you folks be on your way. Until then, you can sit with him and keep him company. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Dr. Taylor left the room.

I sat in the chair next to the bed and held onto Stone’s uninjured hand. “You’re going to give me gray hair,” I muttered.

Stone turned his head to look at me. “You’re too pretty to have gray hair.”

“Well, thanks, I think,” I said with a laugh.

“Can I have more juice?” he asked, holding out his IV arm.

I sighed. “You’re going to be a handful tonight, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, scout’s honor.” He held up just his middle finger.
Nice
. “Just don’t try to take advantage of me again, okay?”

“
Again?
”

“You know, when you
sucked my dick
.” He lowered his voice when he said it. “You took advantage of me and I expect you to be on your best behavior, too.”

I stared at him in shock. He was hilarious and horrifying all at the same time. Someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned to see the doctor and a nurse at the door, both with wide grins on their faces.

I turned back to Stone. “I’ll get you back for this,” I hissed, moving up and away from the bed. I watched as Dr. Taylor and the nurse worked on Stone’s finger. Stone just stared at me the whole time.

It was a little unnerving. I tried my best to ignore him. For their part, the doc and nurse kept their mouths shut about Stone’s embarrassing revelation. I wanted to smack him, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. He was too hopped up on pain pills to even notice if the doctor cut off his finger entirely. Once Stone was sober and fully functional, I planned to get him back for his idiocy. He would pay for what he said.

Half an hour later, Stone was all patched up and loaded in the truck. The nurse gave me all his release forms, including how to rebandage his wound in six hours. I was sure I’d have to do it, too, since Stone seemed to pass out whenever he saw blood. I planned on making fun of him for it as soon as he could comprehend that he was being insulted.

The ride back was quiet. Stone fell asleep and drooled all over himself and the window his head leaned against. It would have been funny if I wasn’t seriously worried that his drool would fall on me when I opened up his door.

“Stone!” I shook him. “Wake up.”

He lifted his head. “Hey, baby. Are you ready to take me to bed?”

Not even close
. “We’re home. Can you walk?”

“I can go all night long,” he murmured, his eyes somewhat glazed over.

I rolled my eyes and jumped out of the truck, walking around the front to open his door. His head hung to the side so he could look at me.

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he muttered.

Stone on drugs is schizophrenic. Great.
“Okay. I won’t.”

I stood up on the step tubes of his truck and unbuckled him. Stone put his face in my chest. I pushed him back and he laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“You’re a jerk when you’re high,” I told him.

His response was hysterical laughter.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes again and instead helped him down. He almost toppled me over, but I managed to keep the both of us upright.

By the time I got him into the apartment and pushed him on the couch, I was exhausted. Once on the couch, Stone curled up and promptly fell asleep. Figuring he would be okay for a minute, I ran to the truck to grab all his paperwork, the prescription I stopped and picked up at the pharmacy on the way home and my purse. He was snoring loudly by the time I got back to the apartment, so I set everything down and went to work cleaning up the kitchen.

We left in such a rush, there was blood everywhere and food was sitting out. I grabbed some paper towels to clean up the mess and then grabbed some bleach out of the laundry room to get rid of the blood. Once everything was cleaned to my satisfaction, I pulled some strawberries out of the fridge. I was hungry, but I didn’t exactly feel like cooking, so I figured I would have a little snack and maybe later, I would make something for Stone and
me
to eat. That was, if he felt like eating.

As if he knew I was thinking about him, he groaned from his spot on the couch, calling my name.

“What’s wrong, Stone?” I asked him, walking around the couch so I could see him.