Instant Gratification (6 page)

She slapped a Band-Aid on him. “You might have a sore arm for the next few days.”

“I have to rock climb tomorrow.”

“Maybe I should have given it to you in the ass then?”

He laughed, but when he looked at her face, he realized she wasn’t kidding. “You really are mean.”

She smiled as she bent for the doctor’s coat, giving him a heart-stopping view. “I know. And honestly? You shouldn’t be rock climbing. Not with your ribs and stitches and other various injuries. You shouldn’t be doing anything tomorrow.”

That said, she covered up again and was ushering him to the door, pushing him out into the night, the sound of the bolt sliding home his only company.

Well, that and the memory of her in those little boxers and cami, took him all the way home, followed him into his shower and through a whole night of new and even more erotic dreams.

The next morning, Emma opened the clinic’s doors for all the patients who hadn’t broken into the place in the middle of
the night. It was eight sharp, and she had one patient. Cece Potter, Moody’s waitress. The young twenty-ish woman needed an antibiotics prescription for a throat infection, and alternately called her “Dr. Sinclair”—in a snooty tone, and “that woman that Stone’s seeing”—also in a snooty tone—which was more disconcerting.

“I’m not—” Emma started.

But Cece Potter, not interested in explanations, was gone, and Emma had no other patients to distract her.

That woman Stone was seeing?

Seriously?

By noon she was ready to tear out her hair when Missy Thorton showed up with a sprained thumb. Missy was the cashier at Thorton’s Hardware store in town. She’d been in Wishful since the dawn of time, or close to it. She had a sweet face and a grandmotherly shape that lowered Emma’s resistance because she had a soft spot for women who looked like they’d lived and lived well.

“Is your daddy back at work yet?” Missy asked as Emma x-rayed her thumb.

“Not yet. Nothing’s broken. I’ll just wrap it and—”

“Maybe I should go to South Shore for a second opinion.”

“You could, but this isn’t complicated.”

“Hmmm…”

It took some convincing, but finally Emma was wrapping the woman’s sprained thumb. Outside the window, the street was busy with the lunchtime crunch. The shops were doing a good business. Everyone was doing a good business but Emma.

“Hmmm,” the woman said again.

Emma looked up into Missy’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“What if it’s broken?”

“I showed you the x-ray. There’s no break.”

“Hmmm.”

Across the street, a pickup pulled up and parked. Stone’s. He wore loose jeans and a polo shirt. Tall and sure of himself, he pulled out a clipboard and headed toward the corner building, moving with the carefulness of someone who’d been beaten up by three women in a bar only a week ago.

Or whatever had really happened to him.

Oblivious to her eyes on him, he headed—limping slightly—down the sidewalk, stopping in front of the old, rundown building on the corner. It had a
FOR SALE
sign on it.

Bending his head, he wrote something on the clipboard.

“I hear you treated him,” Missy said.

“Who?”

“The man you’re staring at instead of concentrating on your patient who.”

Yeah. Point taken. But just looking at Stone invoked memories, his bad boy eyes, filled with wicked intent, his smile, the one that backed up that intent.

His naked body sprawled on her examination table
.

She gave herself a second to digest that image.

“He is a fine boy.” Missy was smiling shrewdly. “Very fine.”

Except Stone Wilder was no boy. In fact, just remembering how little he resembled a boy brought a little secret tingle to certain places she hadn’t thought about in a while.

“And he’s very good at what he does,” Missy went on.

Yes, well, how hard could it be to play all day long?

“My niece’s boy was heading straight for juvie last year,” the older woman said. “And landed himself on one of those treks the Wilders take troubled kids out on. He did really well, but when he wanted to go again, Stone told him that he couldn’t go out if he kept up the stealing. So Trevor gave it up. The trek changed him, calmed him down. That was Stone’s doing, pure and simple.”

Okay, that didn’t sound like he was all mountain bum.

“Women love him.” Missy eyed her wrapped thumb this way and that. “So don’t blame yourself for having a crush on him.”

“I don’t—”

“Of course you do, dear. You were practically drooling. Don’t worry, there’s far worse things to be than Stone’s woman.”

Okay, that was two times now she’d been called that. “I’m not his woman.”

“Maybe we should consult with Doc about the possible break?” Missy asked, still eyeing her thumb.

Emma tried a deep breath. Didn’t help. “I can assure you, Missy, I know what I’m doing.”

“
Hmmm
.”

How she managed such a wealth of doubt in that single syllable, Emma had no idea but she’d become used to it. Four years of undergrad and four years of medical school at Columbia, residency at NY Presbyterian, two years in the NY Bellevue ER—one of the busiest in the country—and yet the people here
still
saw her as Doc’s kid, not a “real” doctor. She pulled Missy’s chart close to document today’s visit.

“Did you know I knew your momma?”

“I didn’t, no.” Under diagnosis, Emma wrote: sprained thumb. She refrained from adding: pain in the ass.

“She was a good woman. A hard worker, too.”

Her mom
had
been a good person, and a very hard worker, up until the day she’d died six months ago, and the kind words softened Emma’s heart with memories. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what happened to change her, none of us ever knew.”

Emma managed to keep the smile in place by sheer will as she stood. “Keep the thumb elevated, Mrs. Thorton. Aspirin as needed for the pain.”

“I mean she just up and left your father, one of the best men in Wishful. Crazy, right?”

Emma didn’t mean to respond but she found she couldn’t help but defend her mom. “She had her reasons.”

“Yes.” Missy nodded slowly. “I remember quite clearly how she—”

“I’m sorry.” Emma forced a smile. “But I don’t want to get into this now.” Or ever. “I’m busy and—”

The bell jangled out front, for once not annoying her. Saved by the ceramic cow bell. “I’ll print you a bill.”

“Oh.” Missy looked startled. “But your father just sends them to me at home.”

Where they were ignored. “Things have changed.” She moved out of the treatment room toward the front desk, where she’d hoped to have a receptionist by now, except for the lack of money with which to pay one.

“Got stung by a bee on the jobsite,” a twentysomething guy said to her from the front door, waving a hand supported by a wrist in a cast. “I can’t get the stinger out. The boss wanted me to go to South Shore, but I didn’t have enough gas.”

“Oh, the doctor’s not in,” Missy told him. “He’s still recouping.”

“Bummer.”

“The doctor
is
in,” Emma corrected, resisting the urge to thunk her head down on the counter. “Come on in. Please. I can help you.”

The would-be patient swiveled his head to Missy for reassurance.

Missy shrugged as if to say
It’s your risk
.

Emma ground her back teeth to powder and pointed to the guy’s cast. “What happened there?”

“Oh, I fell hiking up the summit this past weekend. Tripped over my own laces and broke my wrist.”

The summit was only three miles from here. A quick five minute ride, tops. “Where did you get it cast?”

“South Shore.”

Lake Tahoe, which was at least forty-five minutes away at the best of times. She nearly did thunk her head down at that.

“I needed a doctor,” he said.

“I
am
a doctor.”

“Okay, cool. You remove stingers?”

T
hat night, Emma risked driving the roads out to her father’s cabin again under the guise of bringing him another casserole, hoping for a sign that her torture would be coming to an end.

He accepted the casserole, but still couldn’t produce his medical records—shocker.

On the way home, there was a wind that knocked the truck around some, and she found herself holding her breath all the way back. By the time she got into town, she needed chocolate.

Lots of chocolate.

She parked at Wishful’s one and only grocery store in desperate search of a sugar rush. She ran into Missy in the dairy aisle and Annie in the cereal aisle.

Small town living.

She was deciding between
Time
and
Scientific Weekly
when she felt the odd tingle of awareness race down her back and settle into her good spots.

Oh, boy.

Even without looking, she knew what that meant. Turning,
she locked gazes with Stone, trying to reconcile the laid-back guy she thought she’d figured out with the guy Missy had talked about.

He was propping up a vitamin display with his shoulder—which he did quite nicely, she noted, in his loose cargoes and plain T-shirt, iPod ear-pieces hanging around his neck. He didn’t move, doing his best to perpetuate that lazy guy image he seemed to enjoy so much.

“Doc.”

“Stone.”

He smiled, slow as a Cheshire cat, and lifted his hand, revealing the bottle of Advil he held. “Getting some more of that good vitamin A.”

“You’re still hurting?” she asked while trying to decide who he was—mountain bum, or saint. Neither, she decided, but the jury was still out on who he might really be.

Strangely enough, her heart was suddenly racing as if she’d run down the aisles. An odd physical reaction to a patient.

Except not just a patient
.

Funny how her mother’s voice turned up in her head at the least expected times. Like now.

He’s a mountain hottie, darling. Ignore mountain hotties. They’ll snag your heart, and then stomp on it
.

Oh, for God’s sake. She focused on Stone. Not exactly a hardship. “How are you feeling?” she asked since he hadn’t answered her question.

“Better. I’ve been wanting to thank you.”

“For?”

“First for the medical care.”

“No problem.”

“And second for helping out with Lilah.”

“Again, no problem.”

“And third—and possibly most importantly, for not beating me with your bat.”

She felt a smile tug at her mouth. “You got lucky.” She moved toward the next aisle—fruits and veggies, dammit, but she couldn’t just grab a fistful of candy bars right in front of him. So she grabbed some grapes even though she didn’t like grapes, and dropped them in her cart.

Shifting a little closer, he reached for the bag dispenser, just over her head, making her hyperaware of his big body and the fact that he smelled amazing.

A woman came down the aisle with four young kids, each of them screaming and yelling and beating each other with light sabers from the toy aisle. The woman started to pass by them with an apologetic smile, but stopped at the sight of Stone. “Hey, you,” she said with familiarity. “I’ve been wanting to thank you for the bag of t-shirts, the kids loved them.”

Stone smiled easily, picking up one of the boys before he could climb the banana display, setting him down by his mother. “No problem, glad you could use them. Alice, this is—”

“Doctor Sinclair,” Alice said with a much more formal tone than she’d used with Stone. “I’ve heard about you. How’s your wonderful father doing?”

“Better, thank you,” Emma said, hoping to God that was actually true.

“Good.” With one last sweet smile for Stone, Alice moved on, surrounded by chaos.

“We went to school together,” Stone told Emma, once again following her as she turned into the next aisle. The woman shelving soups sent Stone a hopeful smile combining a sultry invitation and a knowing satisfaction. “Hi there, Stone.”

“Hey, Tina,” Stone said with more easy familiarity. “How’s Danny?”

“Oh, I’m not seeing him anymore.” Cocking her head, she eyeballed Stone up and down, as if maybe he was a twelve course meal and she was starving. “I signed up for another rock climbing class. Requested you.”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “Cam takes those now.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe you could make an exception?”

“The schedule’s pretty set.”

“Well damn then.”

“An ex?” Emma asked dryly in the next aisle.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Sort of. We went out once.”

Uh huh. Telling herself she didn’t care, she headed up the frozen aisle toward the checkout. A beautiful dark brunette in a white tank top and a black skirt was in the middle of the aisle inspecting two different bags of frozen peas. Surprise, surprise, she nodded at Stone, though without a smile. “Hey, Wilder.”

“Serena.”

“Tell Annie her pies are ready.”

“Will do.”

“And tell your brother I hope Katie-the-new-girlfriend has dumped his sorry ass.”

“She’s the fiancé now,” Stone told her.

“Yeah, I know. With any luck, she’ll wise up in time.” The woman gave Emma a long, speculative look, then strode off.

Stone turned to Emma who shook her head. “Are you three the only guys in town or something?” she asked.

“Nah.” He smiled a little wryly. “But somehow we have this reputation.”

“
Somehow
, huh?”

“It goes back several generations.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My great, great, great, great grandfather hung out with Jesse James. He ended up six feet under after a bar fight. That was the beginning of the legend. Or so they say.”

“The legend?”

“That the Wilder men will never amount to much.”

She watched him lift a broad shoulder as if that didn’t hurt in the least, but something in his eyes gave him away, and her amusement faded. “That’s quite a legacy to have to live with.”

“We’ve managed to do just that for generations.”

“How about
this
generation?”

He slanted her a glance, as if surprised she’d even bothered to ask, but she knew a little bit about living up to expectations. Her mother, as wonderful as she’d been, had pinned her hopes and dreams for the elusive “great life” on her only child and that hadn’t been easy to face.

“Still waiting on the final vote,” Stone said.

Interesting. They headed to the checkout, with Stone nodding to two more people along the way.

“Everyone knows everyone here,” she murmured, unloading her cart, staring at the candy bars above the row of batteries on the last-minute stand above the conveyor belt. “I feel like I’m in Mayberry.”

“Yeah. I call it Mayberry with Attitude. But as for feeling like you don’t fit in, that could be fixed.”

“How?”

He met her gaze. “We could go out.”

“Out,” she repeated, her pulse kicking into gear.

“Get to know each other. Have fun.”

“How would that help?”

“Well…” He eyed her as he rubbed his jaw, the sound of his stubble doing something funny deep inside her belly. “Maybe it’d help you relax a little. If you were less uptight, maybe people would find you more approachable.”

Hard to dispute the truth, but didn’t make it easier to swallow. To take the moment she needed, she grabbed some batteries instead of the chocolate she really wanted. AAA’s, not on sale. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea. The having fun thing.”

“No?”

“No.” She grabbed more batteries. “It’s nothing personal.”

His eyes revealed the skepticism of that statement.

“It’s just that I’m not going to be here long, and—” More batteries, because they were helping so much.

He eyed her cart with wry amusement. “You either have a lot of very little flashlights, or a busy vibrator.”

She looked down at the six packs of batteries and grimaced.

“You know, I have a better way to relax,” Stone murmured in her ear, his voice low and husky, and dammit, hypnotizing.

“The batteries are for my…” What? They were for what? She was drawing a big, fat blank.

He just raised a curious brow.

And she deflated. “Oh, be quiet.” In turn to his soft chuckle, she put the batteries back. It was time—past time—for her to blow that popsicle stand, cute mountain bums and all.

After a night of heavy rain, Stone and TJ took a group kayaking down the Cascade River. It was Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, mostly because their guests had lied about their kayaking skills, and also because the rains had the river rushing and swollen.

Taking a break from keeping their clients alive, Stone and TJ pulled everyone off the river for a late afternoon lunch. Their guests stretched out, enjoying some sun and Annie’s sandwiches.

TJ and Stone sat a short distance away, trying to recover when Cam called Stone’s cell. He listened to their complaints and laughed from 7500 miles away. “What do you mean you’re exhausted? You going to let a couple of clients kick your collective asses?”

“You have no idea,” Stone muttered.

“Actually, you would have an idea,” TJ said. “If you’d get
your
ass back here.”

“Couple more weeks,” Cam said. “We’re going to Costa Rica first—unless you need us sooner?”

Stone looked at TJ, who sighed. Neither of them wanted to rush Cam, not when he was happy for the first time in recent memory. “We’re fine,” Stone told him. “You just lounge around with your fiancé and we’ll earn your keep.”

Cam laughed. “Sounds good to me. So what’s going on?”

“You mean besides the fact that the river’s crazy today and that our clients lied on their applications?”

“Sort of like the pregnant woman?” Cam asked. “You guys are losing your touch.”

“Okay, you know what?” Stone said. “People getting lots of sex don’t get an opinion.” He shut the cell phone.

“Now see,” TJ said. “This is why I like the long treks. No baby deliveries. No beginner kayakers. Only the hardcore people who know what they’re doing. I have three separate requests for that six week Alaska trip alone.” Lying back, he shoved his hands behind his head and smiled up at the sky. “I could get into taking three long trips in a row.”

Stone tried not to panic. “Which would leave me alone here.” Again.

“You love being in charge.”

Stone cranked his neck to look at his brother. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No. I really don’t.”

“Then why do you always handle all of the behind the scenes stuff?”

“Uh, because you don’t?”

TJ grinned. “Oh. Right. Thanks for that, by the way. You should give yourself a raise.”

“I’ll do that.”

Sensing the tone, and perhaps the fact that Stone wasn’t kidding, TJ looked at him. “Are you pissed at something?”

“No.”

“You get shot down by the pretty Doc?”

“No.”
Dammit
. “Yes, but that’s not it.”

“You hungry? You get cranky when you’re hungry. I’ve got another sandwich—”

“Shut up, TJ.” Stone sat up.

TJ did too, and looked at him for a long moment. “Annie smacked me around some this morning. She told me you’ve been putting in long hours at night in the office. You’re overworked.”

“Ya think?”

“I should have offered to help.”

“You could offer now.”

“Okay. You want some time off? You need to get the hell out for a while or something? You could take the first Alaskan trip, no problem.”

Stone sighed. “It’s not like I’m chomping at the bit to get out of here.”

“But…”

“But…” He decided what the hell. “I want to do another renovation project.”

TJ blinked. “So…you want to stop having fun all day in order to work your ass off?”

“I don’t want to stop doing this. Jesus. You don’t listen.”

“I listen plenty, and what I’m hearing is that you need to get laid.”

Stone let out a laugh. “Is that your answer to everything?”

“Yes,” TJ said fervently.

Okay, true. Sex was an extremely nice fix to just about everything, but he knew he needed more than that this time. “Remember when I bought that house on the corner of Main and Sierra and fixed it up, then sold it to Old Man Pete?”

“Your first project. I remember. He turned it into the convenience store next to his gas station.”

“Yeah.”

“You nearly lost your ass on that project.”

“That’s because I was twenty-two and got screwed on the loan, but it worked out. It’s not about the money, TJ. It’s about doing something I love. This…” he gestured around him. “It’s good. It gives Cam a purpose, and it’s what
you
love, but I need more. I need something for
me
.”

TJ just stared at him. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“Well, Christ, Stone. What’ll we do without you?”

Now
he
stared up at the sky, feeling it weighing down on him. “I’m not leaving. I’m not asking to leave. I just want some time for me.”

“Maybe you just need a distraction. Ask her out, man. It’ll help.”

Stone didn’t have to ask which “her”, he knew exactly. “No.”

“Is it because she saw you buck ass naked on your first date? That could be construed as a romantic memory, you know.”

Romantic? True, her hands had been all over him, but she’d been pulling gravel and chunks of rock out of his flesh, her fingers steady as a rock as he’d sworn the room blue.

Yeah, romantic as hell. “It wasn’t a date, you ass. It was…an
encounter
. Then I brought her up a mountain to deliver a baby because you didn’t notice that one of your clients was twenty-two months pregnant.”

“Hey, that could have been romantic, too.”

“How? How could that have been romantic?”

TJ thought about it for a minute and then shrugged. “Okay, maybe not.”

Stone just shook his head.

“So what do you think you’ll do for your next…
encounter
? Maybe tell her that the minor heart attack she thinks her father had was in fact a major one, and that if you hadn’t been there he’d have died?”