“It’s actually an MD.”
He blew out a long, slow breath.
“And I just don’t think a bar is an appropriate place for a kid.”
He glanced at Cassie, but she just sent him a look that said, can’t win, don’t try. Seeing several regulars enter, he stood straighter and waved in greeting. A trip down memory lane with Erika was obviously not possible if the woman didn’t even remember that he and Cassie had spent far too many evenings in a corner booth in a bar while their mom worked. Their mother’s small dive bar in Willow Lake, the next, even smaller town over, had been a second home to them. They’d helped her clean up after closing almost every night and he’d worked there before he was legal. It wasn’t an ideal upbringing, but it was about survival and working together as a family.
Their way of life hadn’t been Erika’s reality. Why would she remember that not everyone had been as blessed as she was?
Obviously, she’d been successful in forgetting a lot of things.
CHAPTER FOUR
COMING TO WILD RIVER was feeling less and less like a mistake the more cranberry martinis Erika consumed, so she raised her empty glass for another.
The crazy-hot bartender she barely recognized as the scrawny, tall kid that had never particularly liked her hesitated as he dried a shot glass with a towel and she wrinkled her nose.
“Allowing dishes to air-dry is a lot more sanitary,” she said.
“Another drink it is. Maybe it will make you less annoying... So far, that hasn’t been the case, but here’s hoping the third one’s the charm,” he muttered as he reached for the shaker.
“I heard that.”
“You were meant to.” He shook the shaker and the insult was quickly forgotten as her eyes fell to his arms. Thick, sexy biceps beneath the black T-shirt held her stare far too long. Damn, they were hot. She wondered where they came from. They certainly hadn’t been there before. The Reed she remembered could barely open a pickle jar. This Reed could probably smash the jar with his bare hand. He was all mountainy strong...was that a thing? Mesmerized by the way the muscles looked flexed all the time, she jumped when he snapped a finger in front of her face.
Busted. Her cheeks flamed as bright as the tacky red garland draped along the bar. “What?”
“I said, another double?” He grinned, having caught her checking him out.
She shrugged. “Why not?”
“You want another one?” he asked Cassie.
“I don’t know... I’m feeling the first two...”
Reed grinned. “Only the first one had vodka in it. You two aren’t drunk. You’re high on sugar.”
Cassie laughed. “In that case, definitely. The more sugar I drink, the more bearable she becomes.” Her friend gave her a gentle shove to soothe the sting of the comment and indicate she was kidding. Mostly.
After one double martini and a lot of refined sugar, Erika was starting to see herself as the annoying, stuck-up twat they thought she was. She released a deep breath. Just relax. Vacations were an excuse to vacate one’s life. She desperately needed to escape her own mind. Checking her cell phone for calls and messages from the hospital was useless as it seemed the bar killed any kind of cell reception. And she wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind to deal with hospital stuff right now anyway. Tomorrow, she’d be more responsible. Tonight, these cranberry martinis were a lifeline.
Cassie turned on the barstool. “These martinis remind me of that party we went to in tenth grade—Kylie Fresco’s Sweet Sixteen?”
Cassie hadn’t needed to clarify. It was the one and only party Erika had attended in high school. After her father had caught her sneaking back into the house, vomiting on the hall rug at 2:00 a.m., new, stricter rules had been put in place.
But that had been good. Going to the party had been stupid. Getting drunk and acting irresponsible got no one anywhere in life.
Where the hell was her drink? She gestured for Reed to speed it up as she nodded. “I remember the aching head the next day while I studied for my biology finals.”
“I think that was the first and last time we drank together,” she said.
“Really? Are you sure?” She thought hard but another night didn’t immediately come to mind. She’d known better than to disobey her father’s no-partying rule, not that she’d gotten many invites anyway. She wasn’t fun and cool like Cassie. Other kids didn’t get her and eventually she’d stopped trying so hard to fit in. After high school, she’d gone straight into university, while Cassie had worked a bunch of part-time jobs to save money to travel to Europe. Her adventurous spirit had taken her on a three-month trip and they hadn’t seen much of one another after that...
Cassie leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of tequila from Reed, who had just finished pouring several shots for a group sitting at the end of the bar. “Shot glasses, please.”
He placed two on the bar with a disapproving shake of his head. “You sure about this?”
Reed hesitated, looking at Erika. Deep blueberry-colored eyes made Erika shift on the barstool. She’d always felt uncomfortable around Cassie’s older brother. He hardly hid his true feelings about her and she’d heard him call her a snob once... Not that she maybe didn’t deserve the label based on outside appearances, but she really wasn’t the person he thought she was. Or the woman her coworkers thought she was. Or the daughter her father expected her to be.
Although if everyone thought she was a certain way, could there be some validity to it?
Drinks. More drinking, less thinking.
She turned to Cassie and scoffed, “Whatever. We don’t need his approval to drink. We are two strong, independent women.” She took the bottle of tequila and filled the shot glasses. Then, stretching along the bar, she grabbed two lemon wedges and handed one to Cassie.
“Not worried about where that lemon has been?” Reed asked.
Ignoring his amused stare, Erika clinked her glass against Cassie’s. “To a fun night with no regrets,” she said, tossing the liquid back, letting it burn the common sense right out of her.
* * *
OH, SHE WAS going to regret this night all right.
Two hours later, outside the bar, Reed shot his sister an annoyed look as he escorted them the two blocks from The Drunk Tank to Cassie’s condo above Snow Trek Tours. Thankfully it was still early and the servers could handle things for five minutes.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like you’ve never been tipsy before,” Cassie slurred.
Tipsy? They were shit-faced at eight thirty-six.
Real party animals.
“Okay, let’s keep walking,” he said, as Erika stopped to admire the Christmas display in the Chocolate Shoppe’s window. The life-size sculpted Santa made out of chocolate made his teeth hurt just looking at it.
“I’d kill for chocolate right now,” she said, practically licking the window.
Gone was the uptight, stick-up-her-ass professional and it had only taken two shots of tequila.
“I have to get back to work.” Taking her arm, he led the way around the corner to the back staircase that led to his sister’s condo.
Erika took one look at the stairs and shook her head. “That’s not going to work.” She lifted one boot-clad foot so he could see the high heel and he caught her as she toppled off balance.
He gritted his teeth. Of course—her nonsensical, yet sexy as all fuck heels. Heels on boots that hugged her shapely calves nicely and forced a distracting sway in her hips when she finally did go to the restroom at the bar, but not exactly grate-friendly.
He sighed as he scooped her up.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you upstairs,” he said, jogging up the stairs with her in his arms. She wasn’t heavy and he held his breath, the scent of her soft perfume overshadowing the smell of tequila on her breath.
>
He was glad they were calling it a night before the bar got really busy. She was far too distracting, especially once she’d let her guard down. Her unexpected smile had mesmerized him and her easy-sounding laugh had surprised him. Her body was smoking hot, but it was her dark eyes and full, pouty lips that had him fighting an odd attraction to his sister’s best friend all evening.
When she stopped spouting bullshit, she was even kind of funny in a dry humor, self-deprecating way. Too bad she couldn’t have a sense of humor like this when she was sober.
“Shit. I forgot my gloves,” Cassie said behind them. “Here’s my keys, I’ll be right back.” She tossed the keys at him and turned to head back toward the bar.
He caught the keys. “What? No...what am I supposed to do with her?”
“Just set her down on the couch. I’ll get blankets and a pillow when I get back,” Cassie called as she disappeared down the street.
“Great,” he muttered.
“Oh come on. Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this macho act of heroism.” Erika struggled with the pronunciation. “You were always the protector type.” She touched his chest and her eyes raked him in. She was looking at him the same way she’d gazed longingly at the chocolate Santa moments before.
He wasn’t sure which unsettled him most, the look in her eyes, the fact that she remembered something personal about him or the hardening in his pants at her touch.
He unlocked the door and nudged it open with her body. Then he promptly discarded her on the couch as instructed.
Done. She was there safely. Just leave.
Hearing them enter, Diva, his sister’s Siberian husky pup, came running to greet them. She saw him, but noticing their new guest, went straight for Erika instead with a welcoming yelp.
Erika sobered in record time, bringing her legs up to her chin on the couch and making herself as small as possible. “What is that?”
“Cassie’s dog. Erika, meet Diva.” Obviously, his sister had forgotten to mention her pet to her houseguest. Though how Erika could miss the daily dozen pictures of the dog his sister posted on social media, he didn’t know. Diva in her Halloween costume dressed as a banana, Diva in her new snowsuit, Diva in the bathtub... If his sister ever had kids, he was blocking her on Facebook.
“That thing is huge.”
He laughed. “She’s still a puppy.” And she was super cute.
The dog jumped onto the couch and continued to yelp, pawing Erika’s shoulder.
“Can you get it away?” she asked, her eyes closed, hands clutched in front of her.
“You allergic?” he asked, approaching and lifting the dog into his arms.
“No. Terrified.”
“Don’t worry. Diva doesn’t eat city folk.” He brought the dog to the kitchen and set her down by her food dish.
Erika glared as she removed her coat and scarf. “It’s not like we have a certain smell or anything.” She kicked off her boots and leaned back against the cushions.
He shrugged as he reached for a blanket from the back of the couch. “I don’t know about that,” he said. He bent toward her and paused near her ear to sniff. The action was meant as a jerk move to annoy her, but damn, it backfired. The tantalizing sweet scent of honey on her neck was subtle and provocative. He hadn’t been close enough to be tempted by it when she’d been in his arms, but now it clouded his senses.
Luckily, she shoved him away before he could do something moronic like lick her.
He tossed the blanket over her quickly and stood. “Okay, so you’re all good?”
She nodded, but her gaze was on his midsection. And her unblinking stare was full of unconcealed attraction. The same way she’d checked out his biceps in the bar.
He glanced down to see that his T-shirt had risen slightly on the right side, exposing his stomach.
Obviously his abs were to her liking.
“Erika.”
“Huh?” Still staring.
“It’s been a while, huh?”
She frowned, finally pulling her gaze back to his. “For what?”
“Since you’ve had sex.”
Her mouth gaped.
“I mean, that’s why you’re staring at my stomach like I’m a piece of chocolate.”
“I was not,” she said, but her cheeks flushed. “And I’ll have you know, I have plenty of sex...all the time. Men beating down my door for it...” she mumbled.
That he wouldn’t doubt, except he knew from Cassie that she was a reclusive workaholic and he was willing to bet the only penises she saw were on her naked patients.
“And anyway, even if that was the case, you’d be the last guy I’d want to break my dry spell.”
Okay, now he was intrigued. Especially since he’d made no motion to fix his shirt and her eyes were glued on his abs again, betraying her words. He crossed his arms, making sure to flex his biceps for her viewing pleasure, as well. She wasn’t going to get him, but all of a sudden, he wanted her to want him. “Oh yeah, why’s that?”
“Because I don’t think you’d be any good.”
What?
“Hot guys are rarely good in bed. They don’t think they need to be. They are selfish and rarely leave a woman satisfied.”
She’d obviously been with the wrong dudes. “In your expert opinion?”
She nodded. “As a doctor and woman. Yes.”
Damn, he’d like to kiss that smug expression right off her face, but the voice in his head told him to leave her drunk ass alone. “Okay, then. Good night.”
“What? Not even going to try to prove me wrong?”
In two strides, he’d reached her. Pulling back the blanket, he lifted her and, seating himself on the couch, he set her down on his lap. A leg on either side, she straddled him. “You sure you want to eat your words?”
Instead of answering, she gripped his face and kissed him. Hard. His surprise faded fast as his mouth suddenly craved hers. The taste of tequila mingled with her cherry lip gloss and he forgot he was the one teaching her a lesson. Her legs gripped his and she pressed her chest against him, the feel of her breasts beneath the soft cashmere making his heart pound against them.
His hands moved down her neck, over her shoulders, down her back and rested on her ribs, squeezing tight as his breathing became increasingly difficult. Her body was tight and hard under the thin, soft fabric.
Her arms circled his neck and she pushed her pelvis forward against his dick, which was suddenly straining against the front of his jeans as she slipped her tongue between his lips and deepened the hot and heavy kiss. Her fingers crept up the back of his neck and tangled in his hair as their tongues danced and fought for position...locked in a power struggle...
His sister’s best friend was an incredible kisser and completely boner inducing. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the alcohol running through her blood making her uninhibited or if she’d be this torturously sexy even sober?
His hands left her rib cage to grip her waist as she began a slow rocking motion with her hips, pushing her pelvis against his increasing hardness. No way could he handle that and be able to go back to work. Besides, she was drunk and Cassie would be there any second.
Probably the only thing powerful enough to make him pull his mouth from hers and hold her body away from him was the fact that he didn’t take advantage of women—drunk or sober.
Her eyes flew open and she looked slightly dazed.
He knew the feeling. “Care to reevaluate your opinion?” he asked hoarsely, his dick throbbing and his mind reeling from the effect of her kiss. Her unexpected response to his.
He watched her swallow hard, but immediately the look of lust was gone, replaced once more by the infuriatingly annoying stuck-up, dismissive look. “I’ve had better,” she said with a shrug, climbing off him ever so casually, as though she hadn’t just been
prepared to ride him rock-hard.
He stood, readjusting himself in his pants, then covered her with the blanket as she stretched out on the couch once more. “Fair enough. For the sake of all hot guys, I tried.”
“And failed,” she said, closing her eyes as she rolled into the couch.
Unbelievable. “I guess so,” he mumbled. A temptation to kiss her cheek overwhelmed him. She was definitely a complicated woman...and unfortunately, for him, the more complicated the better. Only the sound of his sister’s footsteps on the stairs outside snapped him back to reality.
“She asleep already?” Cassie asked as she came indoors.
“Um...yeah. Out like a light. See ya later, sis,” he said, escaping the apartment quickly, hoping the cold winter wind would help to extinguish the spark that had been ignited in his core.
CHAPTER FIVE
IF SHE COULD CLEARLY remember every detail from the night before, Erika was pretty sure she’d be feeling remorse...or at the very least, embarrassment.
Lucky for her she didn’t.
She was, however, feeling like her head was being squeezed in a vise. Groaning, she opened one eye and surveyed the condo. Located above Cassie’s adventure tour company on Main Street, the loft-style condo was exactly what she’d pictured her friend living in. Light blue walls made the place feel bigger and the open-concept living room, dining room and kitchen was exactly Cassie’s style. The winding wooden maple staircase leading upstairs to Cassie’s bedroom and bathroom added a touch of sophistication to the place.
Which was of course downplayed by Cassie’s choice of artwork. Dogs Playing Poker was placed over her marble wood-burning fireplace and an altered Mona Lisa, featuring the iconic lady sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes, took up most of the dining room wall. Her friend hadn’t changed at all over the years.
After the initial awkwardness, she’d let her guard down and was reminded how much she’d missed Cassie over the years. Her friend’s jokes were as lame as ever but her stories about her travels had awoken a wanderlust spirit in Erika. Europe and Australia sounded amazing and Cassie had somehow managed to find a balance between working hard and playing hard.
An Alaskan Christmas Page 4
