Extra Innings and In His Wildest Dreams

by Debbi Rawlins

  “Cookie! That was rude.” Brenda turned several shades of pink, and Emma felt for her, especially knowing that her friend was touchy about the last five pounds she’d put on.

  “The truth is never rude.” Sniffing, the older woman carried the remaining pie to the counter.

  “Now, I believe Bren’s right,” Nick said, a glimmer of anger in his eyes as he purposefully snagged Cookie’s gaze. “That was rude, even though you were kidding.”

  Cookie scowled and darted a look at Brenda, who stared down at her napkin and had missed the interchange. She really was hurt, and Nick had been quick to defend her. Emma wanted to jump up and hug him.

  “Lord, she knows I’m kiddin’.” Cookie brought the piece of pecan pie back to the table. “Don’t you, honey?”

  Brenda shrugged and pushed the pie plate away. “It doesn’t matter. You’re right.”

  Mrs. Ryder cleared her throat, and then deftly changed the subject. “Emma, I’m interested in this clinic where you’ll be working. Would I know the place?”

  “I don’t know. It’s rather small and dependent upon federal and private donations. They mostly treat children from underprivileged families who couldn’t afford therapy otherwise.”

  Emma felt Nick staring at her and she carefully avoided his eyes. Did he think it was a waste for her to work in a place that could never afford to pay her a high salary? Her mother had pointed that out more than once, until Emma had uncharacteristically but forcefully told her the subject was closed.

  “That’s marvelous.” Mrs. Ryder set aside her coffee. “Isn’t it, Nick?”

  Emma was forced to glance his way, and the pride and admiration in his eyes made her heart skip a couple of beats. She reached for her water and took an embarrassingly noisy gulp.

  “Yup, Doc is full of surprises.” He smiled at her, a very intimate smile that sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

  “I think it’s particularly commendable that you work with children.” Mrs. Ryder straightened as she warmed to the subject. “I strongly believe that most of our society’s ills stem from poor family values.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Emma caught Brenda and Nick exchanging wary glances.

  “Tell me, Emma,” Mrs. Ryder said, smiling, inclining her head, and Emma realized where Nick got his indefinable charm. “Are you planning on having children of your own?”

  Emma blinked. Her thoughts scattered. “Well—”

  “Don’t start, Mom.” Nick gave her a warning look. Brenda sighed.

  Cookie had been going back and forth, carrying dishes to the kitchen. She shook her head in disgust as she removed the last of the dessert plates. “Oh, Lord, here it comes.”

  “Pardon me, but can’t I make a little polite conversation without you all acting like a bunch of—” Mrs. Ryder’s brows lifted in indignation, and then so did her chin. “I will not reduce myself to your level.”

  “Good.” Nick stood and gathered up the linen napkins. “Emma, you want a ride home?”

  “You’re not leaving yet.” Mrs. Ryder stared incredulously at her son.

  “Mom, once again you managed to make dinner last three hours. It’s after ten o’clock. Yes, I’m going home.”

  Mrs. Ryder continued to plead her case, but it was difficult for Emma to register exactly what was going on. All she could think about was riding home with Nick. Would he take her straight home? Or would he suggest they go to his house? Would Brenda—

  Brenda!

  Emma had almost forgotten. Her gaze flew to her friend. Brenda stared back with curiosity in her eyes, a curve of amusement to her lips.

  She leaned close and whispered, “Go ahead. Ride home with Nick while I help Cookie clean up. But remember, you don’t want to get involved with someone like him.”

  13

  “WHAT WAS BRENDA’S big secret?”

  Emma didn’t like playing dumb, but… “What secret?”

  “At the table after I asked if you wanted a ride. You two went into a huddle.” Nick hadn’t asked her yet whether she wanted to go to his place or home. The direction they were headed meant either one. “I have a good idea what it was. She warned you to stay away from me.”

  His voice revealed nothing so Emma gave him a sideways glance. The Porsche’s top was down and there was plenty of light from the streetlamps. He seemed unfazed.

  “She said the same to me.”

  Emma swung her head around to look directly at him. The wind whipped her hair about her face. She caught it in her fist. “She warned you about me?”

  “Yep.”

  Suspicious, she squinted at him. “When?”

  “While you were saying good-night to my mom and Cookie.”

  She had seen Brenda talking to him. But why warn Nick? Emma was relatively harmless— She laughed when she realized he was teasing her. “She warned you to stay away from me.”

  He smiled and glanced at her before returning his attention to the road. “Isn’t that what I said?”

  She took a deep breath. “Should I be worried, Nick? Should I listen to Brenda?”

  His smile vanished. “You want an objective answer? Ask someone else.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

  He rotated a shoulder. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do, Doc. At the next light, we either go right to my place, or left to drop you at home.” He paused and she stared with fascinated interest at the way his jaw flexed. She hadn’t seen that before. “The Chevy is polished and tuned, waiting to give you a ride. It’s your choice.”

  It helped that he was obviously off balance, too. But only a little. If she had half a brain in her head, she would put off any decision until after the study was complete. Easier said than done. She hadn’t been able to concentrate the past two days. On anything.

  “Tell me something first.” She turned in her seat to really study him. His hair needed trimming and the wind was doing a number on it. The crow’s feet that crinkled at the corner of his eye as he squinted against the wind only made him look more attractive, slightly rugged, as did the summer tan that lingered. “About tonight. When I talked to you earlier, you already knew you were going to your mom’s—”

  “No, I didn’t.” He shot her a curious look. “I only accepted after Brenda told me you two were going.”

  Emma sighed. “What a buttinski.”

  “She played us.” He snorted. “A lump of coal this Christmas for sure.”

  “But how did she know we had plans tonight?”

  “How did she know Shannon Swanson was the first girl I kissed?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Nick chuckled. “My sister is quite resourceful when it comes to digging up information.”

  She grinned, thinking of a teenage Nick. “How old were you when you kissed Shannon?”

  “Like I can remember that far back?” He slowed the car. “Well, Emma, it seems we’ve come to the next red light.”

  He turned to her, the desire in his eyes burning a hole straight through her good sense. She swallowed, and then said, “I’d really like to see your Chevy.”

  NICK LEANED AGAINST his work counter and watched Emma circle the Chevy. The appreciation in her gaze, the way she reverently touched the chrome, sent an odd sensation through his entire body. She understood the reason for the time and sweat he’d poured into the classic. And he hadn’t had to say a word.

  “Want me to put the top down?” He pushed off the counter.

  “If you wouldn’t mind?”

  “There is a small charge.”

  She turned abruptly toward him, a question in her eyes.

  He caught her around the waist and pulled her in close. “One kiss will do it.”

  Her mouth curved in such a slow sensual smile he had some serious reaction below the belt. When their lips touched, he knew he was in deep trouble. He took a small taste and then pulled away.

  She seemed confused, maybe even a little hurt, so he dived back
in for some reassurance, but then disengaged before the fireworks started too soon.

  “If you grab one side we’ll get it down quicker,” he said as he headed around the car. “I’ll tell you what to do.”

  “I know how to do it.”

  He handled his end but kept an eye on how deftly she lowered and then secured the canvas Carson top.

  “Hey, quit loafing on your side.” She stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for him to finish.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stepped back to admire the car, to admire Emma. “You want to go for a spin?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” A seductively shy smile curved her lips.

  Their gazes held and blood rushed to his groin when he realized they were talking about more than the Chevy. At least that was his hope.

  “Hop in.” He yanked his keys out of his pocket, anxious for the ride to be over.

  After circling the block, he asked, “Tell me about that neighbor of yours back in Utah…the one with the Chevy.”

  “Mr. Salisbury. He used to let me help him wash and polish it.”

  “How old were you?’

  She wrinkled her nose. “About eleven, twelve. I went to his house every day after school until it was time for dinner or homework.”

  “Odd way for a girl that age to spend her time.”

  She got quiet for a minute. “Mr. Salisbury was a nice man, my best friend, really. He was patient with me.”

  Her tone, her reluctance, even her posture told him there was much more to the story. “Any brothers and sisters?”

  “Nope, just my mom and me until she married my step-father.”

  “You get along with them?”

  She turned her head and pretended to look at the scenery, only it was too dark. “I had a learning disorder as a child. My mother spent a lot of time working with me so that I could keep up in school. You have a nice neighborhood.”

  “Yeah.” He got the message loud and clear. The subject was closed. But he wanted more.

  After circling the second block, he pulled into his drive.

  “That’s it?” Emma asked, when they coasted back into the garage.

  “Nope.” He depressed the button for the garage door to go down and then patted the seat between them. “The view’s pretty good from over here.”

  She laughed. “My, oh, my, you are a rascal.” She mimicked Cookie’s Southern accent to perfection, but that wasn’t what interested him right now. “Surely you weren’t thinkin’ of neckin’ in this fine piece of automobile.”

  “Surely I am.” He patted the seat again.

  “I don’t know, Nick….”

  “I don’t bite. Anyway, I’ve had my rabies vaccine.”

  She smiled and moved a few inches closer, still leaving too much space between them, uncertainty and shyness in her eyes.

  “Nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want to happen. I promise.”

  She moved a little closer.

  “Come here.” He slid his arm behind her and then waited for her to slip over another few inches before he tightened his hold.

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “We should be outside looking at the stars.”

  “What? You don’t like the way I decorated my garage?”

  She laughed softly. “I understand stacks of newspaper and baskets of glass to be recycled are very chic accessories this season.”

  “But we’re in a ’55 Chevy.”

  “Silly me.”

  “Okay, so this isn’t the most romantic place, but in a minute the garage light will go out and we won’t have to worry about some cop shining his flashlight in our faces.”

  She faked a shiver. “There is certainly that.”

  “And then there’s this.” He lifted her chin and gently pressed his mouth to hers. She tensed but she didn’t tell him to stop. “And this.” He leisurely trailed his lips down the side of her neck, and she began to relax. “And this.” He bit her earlobe, and then ran the tip of his tongue along the shell of her ear.

  She drew back and he half expected a protest, but she took off her glasses and then touched his lips with hers, gently, hesitantly, but it was a start.

  When she drew back again, she shook her head. “This isn’t right. If the study were over—”

  “The study is going just fine.” He kissed her again, harder this time, and he felt her start to thaw.

  Surprising him, she splayed her hand across his chest. She slipped a finger inside the front of his chambray shirt and found his hardened nipple.

  Like an awkward teenaged boy, he fumbled for the buttons of her blouse. She kissed him harder, opening for his tongue while he managed to get three buttons unfastened.

  Her bra was made of skimpy lace with a front closure. He guessed it was black, or maybe red. He wanted to see what he felt beneath his palm, how the soft mound of skin swelled over the lace cup. Just as he pulled back, the overhead light went out.

  He bit back a curse.

  “You’re overdressed,” she whispered as she slid his buttons from their holes.

  He sat back, letting her finish before he tackled the remainder of hers. Her blouse slid easily off her shoulders and the bra hook disengaged with barely a touch.

  “Let’s turn on the light,” he whispered as he nuzzled her neck and cupped the weight of her soft breasts in each of his hands.

  “We have enough.” She pushed forward, filling his palms, a soft whimpering sound coming from her throat, making him too hard, too soon.

  Lowering his head, he greedily suckled her, gathering her breasts together so he could have both nipples at once. She thrust her chest forward, giving him his fill, while raking her hands through his hair and moaning softly.

  Reluctantly he retreated, and then shrugged out of his shirt, anxious to feel her pearled nipples against his skin. He shifted and then leaned back, and she readily followed. Her skin was warm and soft and scented with vanilla. He inhaled the subtle fragrance while his hands roamed her back, forcing her closer so that not a breath of air separated them.

  “Emma?”

  She looked up from kissing the side of his neck, and a faint beam of moonlight coming through the window fell upon her full, moist lips. Long strands of brown hair wound over her bare shoulders and clung to her damp skin. Did she even know how incredibly beautiful she was?

  He lifted his head to capture her mouth and she came to him eagerly, meeting his tongue, diving deep as if she couldn’t get enough of him. The mere idea fueled such a raging, mindless desire, making him so hard he throbbed, and making him wonder which was bigger, his ego or his erection.

  It was easy to slide his fingers beneath the waist of her khakis as he massaged the small of her back, but he could only go far enough to get a hint of the firm yet soft curves of flesh. He understood what a person going through withdrawal felt like as he reached between them to undo her zipper. It slid down easily, revealing more lace. A second later he found her wet heat.

  She bucked slightly when he touched her, and then moaned when he slid a finger inside her slick folds. She was so wet and ready he had trouble catching his breath. That she again deepened the kiss nearly made him explode.

  He withdrew, and then reentered her with two fingers. She clenched her muscles around them and moved her hips, and he knew he wouldn’t make it much longer.

  “Take your pants off, Nick.” Her voice was barely audible and so ragged he hoped he’d heard right.

  But then she raised herself and sat back in confirmation.

  God, how he wished there was enough light so he could see her. Although the outline of her curves and her flowing hair were enough to worry him. He’d never embarrassed himself with a woman before, but he was damn close.

  Apparently growing impatient, she attacked his zipper with anxious fingers that did nothing to help his threatening condition. He gently took over the task but found his jeans weren’t going far. Cramped as they were, he only managed to shove them down a few inches.


  He groaned. “Does this bring back old memories?”

  “Huh?”

  “We’re going to have to do some shifting, sweetheart.” What an idiot he’d been to start this out here when he had a nice, soft king-size bed inside.

  “I don’t understand.” She leaned forward and he caught a sway of her breasts in the semidarkness.

  “You’re so damned beautiful.” He touched her cheek, felt the heat rushing there.

  She stiffened a little. “Nick,” she whispered, sounding so sweet and tentative, “tell me how to please you.”

  Her simple, quiet statement took him by surprise. “You already please me. The sound of your voice, the intelligence in your eyes, your sense of humor, the color of your hair, your mouth…it all pleases me.”

  And scared the hell out of him because he’d never said anything like that to a woman before. Yet he meant every word because it felt right saying it to Emma.

  “I’m serious, Nick.” She laid her hand on his thigh. “It’s not like I’m a virgin or anything, but I’ve only been with one other guy, and it—well, it hardly counted.”

  He hadn’t really thought about how experienced she was, or wasn’t. Not that it mattered. As long as she was comfortable with… He stiffened when her hand wandered up higher on his thigh and touched skin. He had to get them moved inside while he could still think. She didn’t deserve to be laid out on the seat of a car. Not Emma.

  His intention was cut short when her hand grasped his erection. He groaned. “You really don’t understand. I can’t—” He groaned again. “Emma, you can’t do that.”

  Her grip tightened and then slackened. “Too much pressure? Tell me.”

  “No, it’s not but—” He about left the seat when she completely circled her hand around him and stroked the base. “Wait! I’m gonna come in two seconds if you don’t stop that.”

  He manacled her wrists with his fingers and forced her to stop. She moved so that her nipples rubbed the head, and he groaned. Caught off guard, he didn’t see her lower her head until it was too late. She pursed her lips around him and took most of him into her mouth.