Instant Gratification

by Jill Shalvis

  “No?”

  “No.” She firmed up her voice. “No way, no how.”

  “You trying to convince me?” he asked. “Or yourself?”

  “I mean it. This would be a very bad idea.”

  “A bad idea, huh?” His voice was low and shockingly seductive as he dipped his head down slightly so that their mouths were disconcertingly close. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Doc.”

  His eyes were smoldering with a dark and enticing knowledge, and her knees actually wobbled. Other reactions occurred too, reactions she wasn’t ready to admit to. But she could admit this—for whatever reason, whether it was his sheer testosterone-fueled masculinity, or the fact that he was different from the men she usually let in her life—she was too vulnerable to him.

  Far too vulnerable.

  Turning, she picked the casserole dishes back up and shoved them into his arms. “You cook those at 350 degrees for about an hour.”

  His lips were curved slightly, and she drank in his closeness. He smelled a little woodsy, a little citrusy, and a whole lot male. His face was tanned, with fine lines fanning out from his eyes and the corners of his mouth, assuring her that he laughed, and often.

  She had no idea why that was so damn attractive. Maybe because she’d always wondered what it was like not to be ruled by her work.

  But her work was her life. She’d made sure of it.

  Stone rubbed his jaw. He hadn’t shaved that morning, maybe not yesterday either, and the stubble should have put her off.

  Yeah. It so didn’t.

  She needed something to put her off. Maybe he wore holey socks. Maybe he snored. God, she hoped he snored.

  “You going to talk to him before you go?”

  “I think I said enough.”

  “You were pretty hard on him.” The casual bluntness of the words struck a chord deep inside her, mostly because he was right. Which she hated.

  “Maybe you could find something else to say. Something kind.”

  Ah, good, there it was, the putting off. Perfect.

  But in the face of her silence, he just held her gaze, clear and steady, and she sighed. Just say it, Stone. Say the rest of what you want to say.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “I get that in your world, you can back up that badass city girl thing you’ve got going on, but things are different here.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed,” she responded. “People around here tend to get all up in other people’s business, for one.” She shot him a meaningful look.

  He smiled. “It’s called caring.”

  “Oh. I thought it was called nosy.”

  He shook his head. “You’re stubborn. You get that from him. He means something to me, Emma,” he said softly, with steel underlying every syllable. “Maybe you could cut him some slack.”

  She wanted to promise him that she would, but that stubbornness reared its ugly head and she bit her tongue.

  He looked at her for a long moment, then when she didn’t speak, nodded his thanks at the casseroles in his arms and turned and walked away.

  Chapter 10

  Stone let out a low breath which diluted his odd and disconcerting lust for Emma not one little iota, and handed off the casserole dishes to Doc.

  “Thanks.” Doc got the door, then moved through his kitchen to the refrigerator, rustling through it for something to drink. As Stone had personally taken out all the caffeine, he knew Doc wasn’t going to find what he was looking for—which was his beloved Pepsi.

  “The kids?”

  “The sun’s peeking out. They’re lying on the rocks,” Stone said. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

  He was still rummaging for Pepsi. “Tell her what?”

  Stone reached out, grabbed a bottle of water, and handed it to him. “Oh, I don’t know, that you didn’t ignore her on purpose when she was growing up. That you could have hired another doctor for your place but you wanted to see her. That you had a major heart attack not a minor one…pick one.”

  “Oh.” Doc leaned back and stared at the bottle of water in his hand. “I think she knows.”

  “Really? Then why does she seem to blame you for the lack of relationship between you two?”

  “Because her mother, well-meaning as she was, was a little distant. Her stepfather even more distant. In Emma’s book, my actions—or lack of—put me in the same category as them. Emotionally, she raised herself. In doing so, she learned a painful lesson—that she could trust no one with her heart.”

  “That’s a sucky lesson.”

  “Yes, and I take responsibility for that.” Shaking his head at himself, he opened the water bottle and took a long drink. “We all know that I was the adult, that I should have tried harder. That I should have gotten over my broken heart and fought for my child. And she’s right.”

  “So what now?”

  Doc turned the water in his hands, as if he could turn it into the Pepsi he wanted. “If she asks me to, I’m going to sell the clinic.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah.” Doc nodded, looking unusually solemn. “I just wanted you to hear it from me before you catch wind of it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She isn’t going to stay, Stone,” he said very gently. “I can’t make her admit that she belongs here—”

  “She does belong here.” Where the hell that came from, he had no idea.

  “I can’t keep the Urgent Care going by myself, we both know that. I can either hire doctors on a rotating schedule, or sell. If I sell, at least it isn’t a burden to her, and maybe I can get into the rotation. A day a week would be right up my alley.”

  Stone stared at him. “You’re sounding like you’re okay with this idea already.”

  “Are you kidding? I hate it.” Doc sighed. “If I thought anything or anyone could change her mind…”

  Stone looked at Doc and saw the small light of hope. “Don’t look at me,” he said quickly. “She wouldn’t listen to me even if I tried. She has a bit of an attitude, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Doc laughed softly. “You’re falling for her.”

  He was falling for her. “This is your deal.”

  “I’m just saying, if it came up…”

  “Doc.” Stone shook his head. “Listen, we’ve been through this. You need to talk to her yourself. You need to fight for her, as her father.”

  But Doc was shaking his head no. “Fighting for her, forcing her to divide herself between the west and east coast would be far more damaging than letting her go. I have to let go, Stone. I have to let her be. That’s guilt speaking. I won’t bring her any emotional strain. She’s had enough.”

  Stone sighed. “You did the best you could.”

  Doc shoved back his unruly hair and smiled sadly. “You’re making excuses for me. It’s about accountability, which unfortunately I didn’t learn until two months ago on an ER table. The truth is, I’ve been every bit as selfish as her mother. Emma knows it, and so do I.” He opened the fridge one more time and sighed as he stared at the contents. “What I wouldn’t give for a damn Pepsi.”

  “Accountability,” Stone said dryly. “You needed a lifestyle change, which includes eating healthier, exercising more than lifting a fishing pole, and here’s a new one—living until you’ve seen your grandchildren.”

  Doc’s eyes, kind and sharp as they came, met his. “You should have been a doctor. You’re a natural caretaker.”

  “As I’d have passed out at the first sight of a needle, I think it’s fair to say I made a good choice.”

  “You’re still taking care of people.”

  “Playing for a living,” Stone corrected.

  Doc smiled. “Now see, that’s what makes you who you are, Stone. Modesty. Because unlike myself, you’ve never acted selfishly in your life.”

  “Stop it.”

  “No, I mean it. You managed Cam when he was a world champion at such a young age. You helped TJ through his tragedy—”

  “Both of
those things were a long time ago.”

  “Yeah, and you’re still there for them, keeping your family a unit. You invested Cam’s pro earnings for him wisely, and now he’s rich as sin. You helped TJ realize his dream by building that lodge. You keep both your brothers’ dreams alive by running Wilder Adventures even though we both know you’d rather be wearing a tool belt and working with your hands. Face it, Stone. You’re always, in one form or another, taking care of someone you care about, including trying to get between me and Emma to keep us both happy.”

  Uncomfortable with that, Stone turned away, looking out the window and automatically counting teenage heads to make sure they were all still out there. Last week two of the little geniuses had decided to take off on their own to smoke some weed. Today they were back at the lodge with Annie, cleaning toilets. His own unique form of punishment. “You make me sound like some sort of a saint.”

  “No.” Doc tossed back more of his water. “A saint would have slipped me a soda.”

  Spencer had met a few doctors from South Shore and the next day was off with them for the day playing on Lake Tahoe. Emma didn’t go because she had the clinic. In the hottest day of the year so far, she saw a total of four patients. She got one casserole, one IOU, and two checks.

  Progress.

  She treated a sprained elbow, two sore throats and one migraine. She’d say this—she was getting used to the lack of drama in her day.

  Actually, it did make breathing easier. Not that she was ready to admit such a thing. Near closing time, Annie showed up. “Sorry to bother you,” she said, holding Chuck in her arms. “But our vet is climbing Echo Summit.” She set the cat on the reception counter.

  Emma raised a brow.

  “Yeah.” Annie grimaced. “Seeing as you patched up our Stone so nicely, I was hoping you’d also—”

  “There’s a big difference between treating a man and a cat, Annie.”

  “Sure there is. My nephew’s a big baby, and Chuck isn’t.”

  Emma reached out to pet Chuck, laughing, and Annie smiled in approval. “Well there you are.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, the rumors are that you’re not as human as the rest of us mere mortals. But I see peeks of your father coming through.”

  “You do not.”

  Now Annie laughed. “That wasn’t an insult. Your father’s a good man.” She patted Emma’s arm. “And you’re a good woman.”

  Chuck butted his head up against her hand, trying to get her to resume the petting. “How do you know that?”

  “You flew out here to take care of his business, didn’t you? That’s what family does,” Annie said confidently.

  “You’re close to your family.”

  “Extremely.”

  “How do you manage that?” Emma asked. “You’re all so different.”

  “Oh, it’s Stone. He does it. Ever since he was little, he’s been the protector, the go-to guy. We joke that it’s the middle child in him, but truthfully, his heart is bigger than the rest of ours.” Annie nuzzled Chuck. “Aw, my poor boy.”

  “Stone?”

  “No, Chuck. He’s been through some rough times. Did you know when we first found him, he was skinny and missing patches of hair? He was the most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen. We fattened him up with food and love.” She eyed the cat’s belly. “I might have gone overboard on the food, but I couldn’t stand to think of him hungry. Anyway, he’s got a bellyache, and it’s swollen. It’s why we’re here.”

  With a sigh, Emma reached for the cat, who rolled to its back, and exposed its belly.

  “He’s hoping you have bacon,” Annie said while Emma probed and poked. “Or cheese. He’s not picky. Which is probably why he has gas, right?”

  “Yeah. Uh, he’s not a he, Annie.”

  “What?”

  “She’s a she. I’m guessing she’s about to pop out a litter of kittens.”

  “You have got to be shitting me.” Annie stared at Emma for a beat, then Chuck, and burst out with laughter. “You know, I had a feeling, because we never really saw his—” She shook her head, her eyes lit with good humor. “I didn’t want to be rude and look, and like I said, he came to us—she came to us.” Annie scooped the cat up against her chest and kissed the thing right on the head. “Babies? Really?”

  “Kittens,” Emma corrected.

  “Well better her than me.” Annie lifted her gaze, laughing. “Unbelievable. But thanks. Thanks for taking me seriously, for not laughing at me for thinking my cat was a boy when I should have known better. I’ve been around long enough to spot another bitchy female when I see one, feline or not.” She kissed Chuck on her head. “Nothing personal, Kitty.” She turned to the door, then looked back. “Oh. You should know, I love your father. He’s the best doctor Wishful could have ever asked for, but in his place? You’re also the best we could ever ask for.”

  The door shut in tune to the ridiculous cowbells.

  Calling himself all kinds of crazy, Stone pulled up outside the Urgent Care at five o’clock, hoping Emma would be done for the day. He turned off his truck just as the door of the clinic opened and a teenager stepped out. The kid was shirtless, wearing only cutoffs and flip-flops, and cradling his arm, which was splinted and held into place by a sling.

  He was Tucker Adams, a local high school student, and one of the foster kids Stone worked with. Tucker had a nonexistent home life, a learning disability, and was a loner. By all counts, he should have been a rough, edgy kid, with a bad attitude to boot, but he wasn’t. He was quiet but kind and unassuming, and did the best he could with what he’d been given.

  Stone upped the ante in Tucker’s favor whenever he could, having the kid work at Wilder on the weekends for extra cash, hauling wood for Annie’s wood stove, serving the guests, whatever they had available, because it gave him and Annie the excuse to give Tucker some basic skills, and also the chance to feed him properly. “Tuck? What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  He didn’t meet Stone’s eyes, and Stone’s gut took a hard twist. It’d either been Tucker’s show-up-once-a-month father, or one of the assholes at school. “You come from class?”

  “Yeah.”

  Okay, at least Stone didn’t have to go beat up his father. “What happened?”

  “I didn’t start anything,” he said quickly. “I busted up a fight.” He sounded proud, not pissed. “I got my wrist broke is all.”

  “And lost your shirt?”

  He gave a quick shake of his head. “I gave it to someone.”

  “Someone?”

  Tucker lifted a too-lean shoulder. “Shelly.”

  The girl he’d had a crush on all year. Like Tuck, she didn’t exactly fit in, and Stone could absolutely see him standing up for her. Tucker was that kind of kid, even more so since he’d been hanging out at Wilder gaining confidence in himself. “She was hurt?”

  “A couple of guys were teasing her after her swim practice. I made them stop.”

  And he’d given Shelly his shirt to put over her swimsuit, Stone guessed. He nodded, then watched Emma inside as she switched the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. She peeked out the window, saw him, and opened the front door. “Hey.”

  “Hey. You treated Tucker.”

  “I did.” She smiled fondly at the kid, an uncalculated, honest, genuine gesture that had Stone’s heart giving one hard kick.

  “It’s a clean, hairline fracture,” she said, oblivious. “It