by Jill Shalvis
won’t give him too much trouble.”
Stone nodded, relieved, and shrugged out of his button-down which he handed to Tucker. “Need a ride?”
“I’ve got my bike.”
Stone would have liked to argue that Tucker shouldn’t ride with a broken wrist, but the truth was, when he’d been that age, he’d have done the same thing. Annie would kill him, but he nodded. “With helmet?”
“The one you gave me.”
“Take it easy then.”
“I will.”
When Tucker rode off down the road, Stone turned toward Emma. “Send his bill to me.”
“I’ve got him covered.”
“Thanks.” Yeah, definitely he was in trouble here.
“I’m just closing,” she said. “Spencer’s not back yet, so I’m going to rustle up a casserole for dinner.” She turned to go back in.
“Where’s the fire?”
“The fire? Right here as a matter of fact.” She fanned the steamy air in front of her face. “Does it always get this hot?”
He looked into her glowing face and nodded sympathetically. “We tend to get one really hot week a year. This is it.”
“There’s no air conditioning, which is crazy.”
“We don’t generally need a/c.”
“I just wish it would cool off, I really need to go out for a run.”
He shook his head. “Bad plan.”
“I need to blow off some steam.”
“I have a better way. You want to change into some casual clothes, maybe some shorts, first.”
“Uh huh.” She eyed him with exasperated amusement. “Tell me. How often does that sexy swagger and smile, and then the ‘I have a better way to burn off steam’ line get you laid?”
He laughed. “Look, I’m not trying to—” At her long look, he grinned. “Okay, I’m a guy, and therefore, by default, am always interested in getting laid, but that wasn’t my ulterior motive.”
“What was?”
“Getting rid of that stick up your ass.”
“Excuse me?” She sputtered, then at a loss, laughed in disbelief.
“Look, you were saying you have an image problem here in Wishful, and I think I can help you.”
“By loosening me up.”
“By teaching you how to smell the roses. I’m a giver that way. Come on, Emma. Unless…you’re too chicken?”
Chapter 11
Oh, wasn’t he funny, Emma thought. And somehow…charming. And sharp. And he had a bad boy truck, and hell. Deep down, somewhere she didn’t like to visit too often, she had a fantasy about a guy. Not another uptight doctor guy. Not a white-collared professional of any kind.
But a guy in a bad boy truck.
She wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. “I’m not chicken.” She swiped her damp forehead and looked at her watch. “You have thirty minutes.”
“You can’t put a time limit on relaxing.”
“Try.”
He smiled, promising no such thing, and drove her to Moody’s.
Emma stared at the bar and grill. “You going to get me drunk?”
He shot her a look as he parked. “First of all, I never get a woman drunk on the first date.”
“Why, because she doesn’t remember you the next day?”
“No, because I don’t like to clean up puke. And second, I was going to feed you food, not alcohol. Moody’s has great burgers.”
They got out of the truck and when he took her hand, she looked at him. “This isn’t a first date.”
“What is it?”
Since she wasn’t quite sure, she didn’t answer. They walked into the place, and immediately a handful of people waved at Stone. “You’re popular,” she said.
“Yes, and if you smile, you too can be one of the cool kids.”
Okay, so she was holding herself tense, and she definitely wasn’t smiling.
The place wasn’t bad. It was done up Old Western style, with the bar itself a series of refurbished barn doors laid on their sides. The front room was filled with tables for dining, the back room held the pool tables, dart boards, and an area for dancing to the music blaring from the largest juke box she’d ever seen. There were huge antlers hanging on the wall, along with lassoes and brass light fixtures, casting an old-fashioned sort of glow over everyone.
They ordered burgers and fries, and by the time they were done, the place had filled. Stone brought her into the back, to a pool table where Annie, Nick and TJ were playing a rather intense game. Annie came around the table and shoved Stone very affectionately in the shoulder. He stumbled back a step, grinned, and kissed her on the cheek. She softened and hugged him tight.
TJ gave Stone a friendly shove as well, and nodded to Emma. “Hey, Doc. I’m kicking Nick’s ass here. I can kick yours when I’m done if you’d like.”
Stone turned to Emma. “He likes to think he’s the best.”
Emma smiled. “And is he?”
“Hell, no. That would be me.”
“You wish, man.” TJ turned to the bar. Serena was there with another woman, sipping something that looked cool and delicious, the two of them watching the pool game with inscrutable expressions. “Hey, Serena, Harley,” TJ said. “You know Dr. Emma Sinclair?”
“Aw, look at that.” Serena nudged the woman with her. “You said he didn’t have any manners.”
“No.” Harley pulled off her knit cap, revealing short, spiky blond hair that framed a beautiful face that didn’t quite go with the coveralls she wore. “I said he didn’t have any feelings.”
Annie laughed. “Good one,” she said, and rubbed her husband’s back when he looked at her with a raised brow. “Harley and the guys went to school together,” she explained to Emma.
Emma was guessing that they’d more than gone to school together, at least in TJ’s and Harley’s case, and not a good one, as evidenced by the dirty look Harley gave TJ, and the way he pretended to ignore it. He leaned in with his pool cue and took a shot, sending the ball into a middle pocket.
Unimpressed, Harley made a sound that might have been a tire going flat.
TJ straightened and looked at her. “You have something to say?”
Harley’s eyes were cool as ice as the air around them tightened with tension. “Maybe that’s my question to you.”
“Nope.” He lifted a shoulder. “I have a clear conscience.”
“A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.”
“Okay, kids, off to your own corners.” Stone smoothly stepped between them. “I’m thirsty. I’m having a beer, and then I’m going to show the good doctor how to play pool. Who else wants a drink?” He looked around, nodding with a question in his eyes at Emma.
“Whatever you’re having,” she said, and earned herself a warm, slow as molasses smile.
Just like that, the mood around them lightened again. Nick slung an arm around Annie. Annie patted the stool next to her for Emma.
Stone had done that, Emma realized. Gotten right in the middle of the people he cared about and easily, lightly, effortlessly, changed the entire atmosphere. She had little experience with this. At the hospital, which should have been a place ripe for conflict and tension, it never really happened. Mostly because they were all too busy, but if there was a problem, it was dealt with passive aggressive silence. Same with her family. When her mother and stepfather had fought, they’d done so civilly—behind closed doors.
Here, no one felt the need to hide their feelings. They talked, they laughed, they fought. They loved. Loudly, with no shame in any of it.
Annie had told her they had Stone to thank for that, that he was the central force, and he was good at it. He was good at a lot of things.
Unlike Emma, who was good at one thing, and that was work. She’d always been proud of that, but here in Wishful, she was beginning to realize that there was so much more to life than work.
Serena nudged a drink in Harley’s direction, who took a deep breath and a deep sip, and TJ lea
ned over the table and took anther shot, putting the two ball in the top left pocket and the four in the middle right.
Nicely done.
He then put away the remaining four balls and pumped a fist in the air while both Annie and Nick rolled their eyes. “Four out of five,” he declared, pointing at Nick. “You owe.”
Serena turned to Harley. “Did you know that fifty percent of all statistics are made up on the spot?”
Harley let out a half laugh, tore her gaze off TJ and turned to the bartender. “I don’t suppose you have a Xanax?”
“Finals?” the bartender asked in sympathy.
“Tomorrow.”
The bartender poured her a double Scotch. “Consider me a pharmacist with a limited inventory. But this should work.” He pushed the shot in her direction.
Stone handed Emma a beer and sank to a seat next to her, smiling at her as she watched Annie take her turn at kicking Nick’s butt at pool. “Want to play?”
Her college apartment had been over a bar, and she and Spencer had spent every single morning playing pool while quizzing each other in chemistry and biology. Like everything she put her mind to, she wasn’t just good, she was great.
“Come on,” he said at her hesitation. “I’ll give you some pointers.”
“If you want pointers,” TJ told Emma, “play me, seeing as I kicked his ass last week. We bet all the paperwork at the lodge for a week, and he’s still at it.”
“I do all the paperwork anyway, you ass.” Stone smiled, quite full of himself. “Besides, I let you win.”
“Then maybe you’d like to make another bet.”
“Sure.”
“Okay, think about this, Stone,” Annie said. “Remember, you’re already zero for ten this week alone.”
Stone shook his head as everyone laughed. “It’s a good thing I’m not trying to impress the girl,” he muttered.
The “girl” was looking at him, looking at the guy who ran the business for his brothers, worked with foster kids, kept his family together. Yeah, she was looking, and thinking there went another layer off the mountain bum image. Even though he looked the part; tall and built with that sun-kissed hair and California surfer good looks, appearances were apparently deceiving because he wasn’t a slacker at all. Inside him beat the fierce, loyal heart that would go to the ends of the earth for those he loved.
“Aw.” Annie patted Stone on the back. “If that’s what you were trying to do, honey, you probably shouldn’t have brought her here.”
“True enough.” He set down his drink, stood up and took Emma’s hand. “A game?”
“Do it, Emma,” Annie said. “Show ‘em who’s boss.”
Everyone hooted and hollered at that, cheering for her. No one was looking at her like she was an alien, or politely but distantly calling her Dr. Sinclair. They were cheering, for her. She turned to look at Stone. “What would we play for?”
He arched a surprised brow. “You want to bet?”
Oh, yeah. She wanted to bet. “Unless you’re afraid.”
“Name it,” he said, eyes lit with promised retribution as everyone let out a collective “oooh…”
“Well,” Emma said. “If you’re so good at paperwork, you could do all mine at the Urgent Care. I’d love to have a secretary.” The crowd went nuts at this. “If I win,” she added demurely. And she was going to win.
Still laughing, Annie started to say something to her but Stone put a hand in front of his aunt’s face. Eyes still on Emma, he let out another slow smile. “And if I win?”
Everyone leaned forward eagerly to hear what he planned on claiming as his spoils.
“Maybe she could do your paperwork,” Annie suggested.
Nick snorted and hugged his wife. “I’m pretty sure he could come up with something better than that, babe.” He winked at Stone. “Maybe you ought to ask for free medical care for all your various injuries.”
“Yes,” Serena said slyly. “You can play doctor.”
TJ chuckled and slung an arm over Stone’s shoulders. “I’m not sure the boy knows how to play doctor.”
Stone shoved him off and smiled at the good-natured ribbing. “I can pick my own winnings, thank you very much,” and when everyone looked at him, waiting, he shook his head. “In private.”
“Yes,” Serena said. “Because nothing says romantic like kicking a woman’s ass in pool and then demanding payment.”
Harley took Serena’s drink away. “Honey, your bitch is showing again.”
“Whoops. Hate it when that happens. Especially since you’re the one who has the right to be a bitch right now.” She gave TJ a pointed look.
TJ’s left eye twitched but he said nothing.
Harley said a loaded nothing as well, tossing back another shot, gesturing to the bartender for yet another.
Stone picked out a cue stick and turned to Emma.
Gorgeous.
And just a little cocky.
Bring it, she thought. “Ready?” she asked.
“Oh, yes.”
Finally, something she could be better at than him.
Chapter 12
Stone racked the balls and gestured for Emma to take the break shot.
She gave him a slight bow and bent over the pool table, and he thought, oh yeah. Right there. There’s the best reason on God’s good earth to invite a woman to play pool. Who cared who won or lost when her pants tightened nice and snug across the sweetest ass on this side of the Sierras? Who cared who won or lost when—
She hit, hard and accurately, and three solid balls went in, the one, two and three balls consecutively.
A beautiful combo shot.
All eyes swiveled to him, accompanied by the low chorus of “oooooh.”
Like he didn’t know he was in trouble. He met her amused gaze.
“I’m solids,” she said sweetly.
“You’ve played. A lot.”
“I’ve played,” she agreed. “A lot.”
Oh, Christ, look at her, all cool and confident. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. As was that fitted shirt she wore, only two buttons undone. Cerebral and hot at the same time, which was blowing the synapses in his mind at the speed of light.
Not good.
She bent over the table again and blew the rest of his brain completely out.
“But it’s been awhile,” she muttered demurely, rocketing the seven ball in the corner pocket before casually aiming at the five. And making it. She got the four ball in before she missed her last, the six, and he knew he should be at least worried, but goddamn if he wasn’t smiling from ear to ear.
“You look like an idiot,” Harley told him ever-so-helpfully. “Stop grinning and get in the game.”
Right. He tore his gaze off Emma with much difficulty and did as Harley demanded. Luckily he really was good.
And lucky.