Extra Innings and In His Wildest Dreams

by Debbi Rawlins

  Emma would, of course, since unlike him, she had a busy schedule.

  He cursed again.

  Yeah, he’d been lucky most of his life, things had come easily and quickly. So what was he supposed to do? Give everything back? Deny his talent and ability to retain knowledge or make money? Live the life of a monk in penance?

  It wasn’t as if he weren’t grateful for the intellect he’d inherited, or the breaks that came his way. Hell, yeah, he was grateful. For all of it.

  The phone rang again.

  He still held it in his hand, but waited for the second ring before depressing the talk button.

  “Nick?” Brenda’s voice swamped him with disappointment.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s customary to say something when you answer a phone. You know, like hello, instead of just breathing heavy.”

  “And people generally let a phone ring more than three times.”

  “You picked it up on the second ring.”

  He sighed, perversely relieved. “You didn’t call just a minute ago?”

  “No. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just distracted.”

  Brenda snorted. “Must be contagious.”

  “What do you mean?” He had a feeling he knew just by the teasing note in his sister’s voice.

  “I talked to Emma earlier. She could barely keep two thoughts together.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He tried to sound casual when he wanted to demand to know everything they discussed. “She must be busy.”

  “No joke. She was at the restaurant right as the lunch crowd converged.”

  Disappointment hit him again. He wanted to be her distraction. “Where does she work, anyway?”

  “Sorry. That’s top secret.”

  He laughed.

  “Really. She doesn’t like people bothering her at work.”

  “She’s supposed to call me about today’s session.” He glanced at his watch. “Which should start in three hours.”

  “If she said she’d call, she will.”

  He silently cleared his throat. “Did she say anything about it?”

  “Nope. She never discusses you.”

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that anymore. “Admirable.”

  “What’s your problem?”

  Using the heel of his hand, he rubbed his eyes. One good night’s sleep was all he needed. Or a romp with Emma. Damn! Maybe she was right. He was obsessed with sex…or at least obsessed with her. Man, he could not go there. “What did you call for?”

  “Damn grouch, you made me forget.” She paused, and made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Oh, yeah, Mom was sorry she didn’t get to see more of you the other night and she wants you to go over for dinner this weekend.”

  “So now you’re the messenger?”

  “No, you turkey. She’s going to call you later. I thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

  Great. Everyone in Chapel Hill was calling him today but Emma. And now his mother wanted another shot at him and bachelorhood.

  “Thanks,” he muttered. “I’ll be sure to let the answering machine pick up.”

  “Nick.” That scolding tone always annoyed him. “If I have to go make nice, so do you.”

  “I was kidding. I’ll go see her.” Eventually. He glanced at his watch. “Look, I gotta go.”

  “One more question…”

  “Shoot.”

  “Would it be uncomfortable for you if I asked Emma to dinner, too?”

  EMMA STARED AT THE PHONE, confused, unnerved, wary, but it wasn’t as if she had any choice. Nick was her last hope of completing her thesis in time. Surely he’d cooled off by now. In more ways than one.

  Too bad she hadn’t.

  Maybe she should have sex with him. Or at least accept the fact that she would once this study was completed. If it was all settled in her mind that she would, maybe she could get on with business instead of dwelling on “what if.”

  She was far more upset with herself than she was with him. For the first time in years, she couldn’t stay focused. All she thought about was him. And sex. And what his skin and muscle would feel like beneath her palms. What it would feel like to have him buried deep inside her.

  God help her, this wasn’t like her at all.

  With precious little time to fit everything in she had to do each day, she could ill afford this horrible, debilitating obsession.

  She started to reach for the phone again, but immediately drew back. Her hands trembled and she was afraid her voice would do the same. It was frightening to think she could revert to old ways when she had to struggle to concentrate on every word, every sentence put before her.

  How her mother would sneer about how her time and energy had been wasted, trying to help Emma behave and read like a normal child. The thought made her shudder.

  But ironically, it also gave her strength. She reached for the phone, and dialed the number she now knew by heart. The line was busy.

  She waited a minute, sank back onto her bed and idly petted Jake, while reminding herself she was a professional, and then tried again. Still busy.

  Okay, she was a firm believer that everything happened for a reason. She obviously needed a little more time to decide how she’d handle Nick. How she’d justify sleeping with him.

  No, no, no. That’s not what she was supposed to be thinking about. She backed away from the phone as if it were a rattlesnake that could strike at any time. Maybe she should just work off his notes. If she had any questions, she could email him.

  She shook her head. What a laugh he’d get over that suggestion after her high-and-mighty claim that she was a professional.

  Jake let out a loud meow, and she looked at the digital clock. It wasn’t feeding time yet. But time was running out to call Nick for today’s session.

  The cat whined again.

  “Hey, you, what’s the matter?” She scratched behind his ears in just the right spot. But that didn’t seem to make him happy. “Ah, Jake, come here.”

  She tried to cuddle him but he jumped off the bed and gave her the tail. She didn’t blame him for being mad at her. He hadn’t received much attention in the past two days. She was too busy replaying conversations with Nick, and projecting various outcomes. None of them made her happy, and Jake had clearly picked up the bad vibes.

  What the hell happened to her perfectly ordered life? Until Nick Ryder, no matter how busy or overwhelmed she was everything ran like clockwork.

  She reached for the phone, but then stopped. Seeing him wasn’t a good idea. Her emotions were too close to the surface. So how effective would she be, anyway?

  Nick certainly wouldn’t care if they met today. She doubted he cared much about anything.

  She caught a glimpse of Jake prancing past her bedroom door without even so much as glancing her way.

  Damn that Nick. Now even her cat was pissed at her.

  THE PHONE RANG AGAIN. This made the fifth time this morning. First the hang-up call, and then Brenda, then someone who wanted to change his long-distance service, and finally his mother. If this next caller was anyone but Emma, Nick was going to change his number. Make it unlisted. No one would have it. No exceptions.

  Hell, he should’ve gotten caller ID like Brenda suggested. But to his thinking, either he felt like talking or he didn’t, and knowing who was on the other end wouldn’t change that. But then he hadn’t known Emma. Dammit.

  “Hello?” It came out a growl.

  “Jeez, what the hell is your problem?”

  He recognized Marshall’s voice. “I thought you were someone else.”

  “Glad I’m not.” He paused, and Nick could hear him take a drag off his cigarette. “Maybe this isn’t a good time to ask if you have a few minutes.”

  “Looks like I’m going to have a few hours.”

  “Come again?”

  “Nothing.” Nick sighed and massaged the tension at the back of his neck. “How are Sally and the kids?”

  Marshall hesit
ated long enough to make Nick nervous. “They’re fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Remember in our junior year when you got sacked by Peter Munoz in the last quarter of our second game? You said it felt like being run over by a five-ton elephant. You were out of commission for two weeks, no football, no nothing.”

  “Remember? Hell, I think I still have the bruises.”

  Marshall took another drag and then exhaled. “That’s how I feel.”

  “Quit smoking. That should eliminate half your problems.” Nick remembered the cigarette he’d smoked the other night just because he was pissed off, and he cringed.

  “I wish it were that simple.”

  Nick frowned. Usually Marshall took a shot at Nick’s vices, or told him to mind his own damn business. “What’s wrong?”

  “This is hard for me to ask.”

  “For God’s sake, how long have we known each other?”

  “Too long, you pain in the ass.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” They both laughed, but Nick didn’t like the sound of despair in his friend’s voice.

  “I need to borrow some money.”

  Relieved, Nick exhaled. “Give me a figure and I’ll write the check.”

  “Sally can’t know about this.”

  “It’s strictly between us.”

  “I’ll pay you back with my next bonus.”

  “No rush.” He wondered if Marshall would tell him what this was about. It didn’t matter, except that Nick could offer more than financial support. “In fact, you don’t need to. Consider it a gift.”

  “You don’t even know how much I’m asking for.”

  “It’s enough that you asked,” Nick said quietly. “If you need anything else, you know I’m here for you.”

  Marshall laughed, the sound an odd mixture of bitterness and gratitude. “I knew I could count on you. Good ole Nick. You’d never find yourself in this situation.”

  A lick of anger flamed in Nick’s gut. His friend was obviously in pain so Nick let go of the subtle reference to his so-called charmed life. “You want to tell me what this is about?”

  “Nope. I’ve humbled myself enough for one day.”

  “Shit, Marsh, you’re talking to me. We’re friends. We’re there for each other. Don’t give me this humble crap.”

  “Yeah, I know. But this time I’ll take a pass on giving an explanation.”

  “Your call.” Nick glanced at his watch. Maybe he’d break down and phone Emma. “You want to pick up the check or should I drop it off?”

  “You’ll be home this evening?”

  “Call first.” Hell, maybe he’d still get lucky and see Emma. “Otherwise I can leave it under the mat.”

  “Thanks, Nick, I— Thanks.”

  “You gonna tell me how much, or did you expect a blank check?”

  Marshall laughed. He sounded a little better. After he gave Nick the amount, he said, “I have the money, but it’s invested and Sally’s signature is required before I can liquidate. It’s not like I’m in financial trouble. I will pay you back.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “I know.” Marshall sighed. “Hell, pal, what I wouldn’t give to be in your shoes. Footloose and fancy-free.”

  “Yeah, what a life.”

  They hung up, and Nick stared at the Chevy, wondering what kind of trouble his friend was in. He wasn’t curious by nature and generally he’d rather not know about his friend’s personal business. But Marshall had always been the most rock-solid of all Nick’s friends, knowing exactly what he wanted out of life, where he wanted to be, even as early as their college days.

  Not only was he already at the top of his profession at a young age, he was the quintessential family man who adored his wife and kids. The idea that he was in any kind of trouble was damn disturbing.

  Worrying about Marshall was almost enough to make Nick forget about Emma…until the phone rang again. He’d left the receiver next to him but let it ring a second time while he got an oath out of his system.

  He knew it wasn’t her. He’d given up on seeing her today. Probably shouldn’t even answer. If it was a solicitor, Nick would likely rip the poor sap a new one. It had turned into just that kind of day.

  He caved in and picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Nick?”

  “Emma?”

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  The mere sound of her voice made his heart thud. “Nah, I was just polishing the Chevy.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I could grab a shower and be over in forty minutes.”

  “That isn’t necessary. I have a few questions about yesterday’s session, but we can do it over the phone.”

  “Sure.” Disappointment pricked him like a thorn.

  “It should take only about ten minutes. Are you ready, or should I call back in a few?”

  “Now’s fine.” He sank onto a large trash bag filled with leaves that should have gone to the curb this morning, and got comfortable.

  “Okay, well most of the questions are the usual, like whether—”

  “Doc?”

  “Yes?” She sounded hesitant. No improvement over the strain in her voice.

  “Are we okay?”

  “I’m not sure I— If you mean— Of course. Business as usual.”

  Right. “I gotta tell you, Doc, I didn’t like the way we left things yesterday.”

  “Me neither.” Her voice was soft, tentative. It cut through him like a switchblade.

  He wondered what she’d say if he told her he’d dreamed of her again last night. “We’re adults. We can put this disagreement behind us.”

  “At least one of us is.”

  He grinned. The old Doc was back. “I’m not even gonna ask.”

  She laughed. “Are you ready?”

  Her rush back to business made his smile fade. “Go for it.”

  “First, did you know anyone in the dream?”

  His mind went blank. “Refresh my memory, Doc. I’m not sure which dream we’re talking about.”

  “The party by the lake.”

  “Party by the lake,” he repeated, trying to recall which story that was. “Nope, I’m not recalling. What else?”

  “Um…the two women?”

  “Doc, all my dreams have women.”

  Her soft, plaintive sigh came across loud and clear, and he grinned. “Don’t you have notes?” she asked.

  “I left them with you, remember?”

  “This isn’t good. If you can’t recall the dream, you certainly aren’t going to remember the emotions or feelings that were evoked.”

  “Not necessarily. Give me a few more hints.” He sank against the wall as the story came back in a sudden rush of clarity and excitement. The thought of hearing her retell it made his blood simmer.

  “Well, you were at a lake with some friends, having a party when one of the women decided to go skinny-dipping. Ringing any bells?”

  “Sort of. What else?”

  “Another woman took off her clothes, too. Oh, and she had nipple rings.” She paused as if she expected him to suddenly remember. “And?”

  “Doesn’t that help?”

  “Lots of women have nipple rings.” Silence.

  He could guess how she’d interpreted that remark and it might’ve been funny if he wasn’t getting hard, his skin prickly with arousal. “Look,” he said matter-of-factly, “isn’t there a defining situation that would jog my memory?”

  SHE SOFTLY CLEARED her throat. “The women started making love, and then one of them called you over to go down on her.” She paused. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

  “She wanted me to use my tongue and mouth?”

  He heard her breath catch. “Yes.”

  “Make her wet and hot.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Spread her lips and find that one sensi
tive spot that would drive her wild?”

  She groaned softly, and he closed his eyes and cupped the hardness beneath his fly, unsure who was suffering more.

  “Did she want me to put my finger in her, and then make her come with my tongue?”

  “Nick, you can’t do this—” She panted his name, and the image of her on the other end, pleasuring herself, had him unzipping his jeans.

  “Am I getting it right, Emma?”

  “Damn you.” Her voice was as hoarse and raspy as his.

  It took him a minute before he could speak again while she did nothing to break the silence. “Emma?”

  Her breath shuddered into the phone. “I think it’s time I had a look at your Chevy.”

  12

  BRENDA SKIPPED HELLO. “Mom wants to have dinner tonight instead of waiting for the weekend.”

  Nick knew he shouldn’t have picked up the phone, except he’d hoped it was Emma calling back to confirm a time she could come over. “Sorry, I’m busy.”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  “How do you know?” He was still recovering from Emma’s call a half hour ago, or he would’ve come up with a more notable remark.

  “Because I just talked to Emma.”

  That got his attention. He threw the kitchen towel aside, closed the dishwasher door and picked up the beer he hadn’t had time to open yet. The place didn’t look too bad. It just needed a little picking up before she got there. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass.”

  Brenda snorted. “If I understood her correctly, which there is a distinct possibility I didn’t since she was only semicoherent, you guys aren’t meeting today.”

  “Semicoherent?” Dangerous ground, he knew, but his damned ego had a mind of its own.

  “She said she’d just gotten up from a nap.”

  He smiled, and popped open the beer. “What else did she say?”

  “Sorry, I think I’ve got the wrong number. I thought this was my brother, Nick, who normally isn’t so nosy.”

  He grunted. Now Doc had him sounding like a lovesick teenager. “You know what I mean.”

  Brenda stayed silent for a long uncomfortable moment. “Nick, you aren’t putting the moves on her, are you?”