Tempting Doctor Forever (Barrett Ridge Book 2)

by Holly Cortelyou

  Sam put her car in gear and headed down the mountain. Once on the main road, she trundled along until a lone fir tree towering above a carved red sign caught her attention. Without a second thought, she slowed and took the turn off. She bounced down the rough road, dodging ruts, potholes, and tree roots.

  Funny. The MacLean mud flats and the bonfire pits. She was back where it had all started for her. The day where her vague hero-worship for Ethan had turned to full-blown adoration and the bud of her love.

  Love. The word stuck in her throat. She’d fallen in love with the idea of Ethan that day by the smoldering remains of the bonfire. That crazy notion had motivated her to throw caution to the wind and luxuriate in a night of unbridled passion. A night with consequences.

  Sam circled the car once around the cold embers of the fire pit before she parked it, half on the dried-up, grassy meadow and half on the mostly hard-packed dirt lane. The SUV lurched into a rut, and Sam’s head jerked.

  The towering pines and hemlocks of the forest on the edge of the Cordero ranch still ringed the far side of the clearing, and the bonfire pit still had a few tendrils of smoke wisping up on each stray breeze. The old MacLean farm and its copse of white birches ringed the south side.

  She killed the engine and tramped along the edges of the clearing. A breeze riffled through the tops of the trees with only the faintest of rustles. A steady thunk-thunk in the distance hinted at an industrious ax hacking its way through a woodpile. Silence. And then the buzz-hum of a chainsaw and a thump as a tree fell.

  She hugged her arms tightly to her chest. All the normal sounds of a gray winter day pushed against her.

  She closed her eyes and imagined that late summer night. Nine years ago was an eternity, and it was last night. The embers had still been bright, barely extinguished.

  She had long forgiven her friends for their foolish prank. She’d even laughed at first that they’d hauled off and left her in the dark. Of course, they’d come back soon. But, they’d taken too long, and a pair of assholes found her first.

  She shuddered. They hadn’t done her any real physical harm. Just manhandled. Torn clothing. A bruise or two.

  The damage lurked in her brain, in her spirit. Shitty things did happen. Men could rape and assault. It might have happened to her that night. She’d been fortunate. And her luck had been Ethan.

  Sam walked a circuit around the fire pit with its half-burnt pallets and singed, crinkled beer cans. She reminded herself again that nothing had happened. She had no real reason to be traumatized. She wasn’t. It was more like a twitch or an itch, or a tiny redwood bark splinter festering under the skin. Only painful when touched.

  “I’m not a fruitcake. I’m not afraid of men,” she whispered against the wind.

  She dated. She made love. Went to parties. Loved her family and her school kiddos. She volunteered at the women’s shelter in Portland a few times a year to remind herself that she had a good life. That she’d escaped. Her fears were tiny. Foolish. Those women had experienced genuine horror.

  The jumble factor in her brain was in high gear. The harsh, menacing voices of her attackers. Ethan’s strong words and instant action.

  Without thinking, she found a thin path through the grass, aiming into a thicket of trees. Her feet knew the way, or was it her heart?

  She spotted the green metal roof of the Cordero Cabin and then its weather-darkened logs. She came around the back of the building into a small clearing with a few stray saplings, a fresh woodpile, and a tall, broad-shouldered man hefting an armful of chopped logs.

  She froze and prayed she blended into the scenery. Here was the last man she wished to see, but of course, he was the only one she needed to meet.

  Ethan.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  HIS SKIN GLISTENED with a sheen of sweat in his short-sleeved black T-shirt. Ethan’s muscles flexed as he unloaded the logs onto the wood pile and grabbed the handle of the stiff bow rake angled against the leafless tree towering over them. A quiver of desire fired deep in Sam’s core.

  “I should have known you’d show up.” Ethan didn’t smile, but he didn’t seem displeased either.

  “I didn’t plan on it.” Sam’s voice sounded unconvincing even to her own ears.

  “You can hardly say that you were just passing by.” Ethan scratched at the scattering of bark and wood shreds littering the ground. “The cabin isn’t on the way to anywhere.” Ethan pushed the rake prongs into the compacted dirt and leaned against the handle. His expression was open, unguarded.

  “I went for a long drive this morning, and my car kind of ended up here.” Sam studied the tips of her leather boots and counted the steps between her and Ethan. She glanced up. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that night at the bonfire.”

  “It’s ancient history. You don’t need to worry.”

  Sam met Ethan’s gaze. He might be referring to the bad memories of her attackers, or could it be that she had nothing to fear from him?

  “It’s a scary world out there.” Sam stepped closer. “A girl’s got to watch out for herself. I’ve never been back here by myself. I’m always with a group of people, and I always drive my car. No one is going to ditch me there.”

  “Trauma isn’t always physical. We carry emotional pains and scars all the time.” Ethan’s eyes held a faraway look. She wasn’t the only person harboring wounds.

  “Why are they so slow to heal?” She lowered her voice and took another step toward Ethan.

  “We dwell on them. We pick at them like an itchy scab.”

  “We know better, but we do it anyway.”

  “Did you meet your ghosts?” Ethan gestured back toward the bonfire clearing. “Did you vanquish them?” He set the rake against the edge of the stack of firewood.

  “I might have.” A small laugh bubbled out of her. A lightness filtered through her cells, and a sense of calm cloaked her. “They were the same memories, but I’ve changed.” Truth rang in her words.

  A few drops of rain splotted on her nose and the collar of her coat. The sky edged from pearl gray to leaden slate. Wind gusted.

  “Come on. Let’s duck inside before we get soaked.” Ethan grabbed her hand, and they dashed through the thick wooden door of the log cabin.

  “Nothing’s changed in here.” Sam glanced around as she tugged her coat close.

  “Only more cobwebs,” Ethan said. “You’re cold. I’ll start a fire. We can’t have you catching a chill.”

  “You’re still looking out for me.”

  “I’m a good guy.”

  “I know.” The words hung in the air as if each were trying to bridge the gap stretching between them.

  Ethan assembled kindling in the ancient wood stove as she bumped into memories of the younger Sam and Ethan. His arms had been so safe, so protective.

  “Do you remember much about that day?” Sam pulled a chair next to the crackling fire as the first tendrils of heat escaped through the open door of the stove.

  “I can’t forget it,” Ethan replied without any question in his voice. As if he too were lost in the images of that night.

  “I never asked, but why were you at the cabin? I would have thought you’d been with your family.”

  “I’d come out to the cabin to just chop wood and forget.” Ethan frowned. “We’d buried my mother the day before. That’s why I’d come back to Barrett Ridge.”

  Sam touched his hand. His skin was warm under her chilled fingers. “It was a beautiful funeral. I think half of the town showed up to honor her.”

  Ethan fed a larger piece of wood to the thriving fire. “I knew the house was crammed with relatives and friends come to share their grief and ease my father’s burden, but I was done. I’d decided to camp out. I sat on a stump on the side of the cabin and let the stars come out. I heard the bonfire. The party and the music. It was no part of me.”

  “That’s how you heard me.”

  Ethan nodded. “I may not have reacted to just a scream, but the panic a
nd horror in your voice galvanized me. I didn’t stop to think. It was all reaction.”

  Sam touched his arm. “Thank you.” Her hand wavered at the emotion joining them.

  “It goes both ways.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were kind to me. After you dried your tears, you asked about my mother and listened to my grief.”

  “That wasn’t me being noble and understanding.” Sam settled herself on the low, hunter-green couch to the side of the woodstove. “I had no idea what else to say. I had about a thousand hormones and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I totally wanted to jump your bones, but you’d turned away. So I asked how you were doing.”

  Ethan laughed. “You didn’t simply ask. You told me that you wouldn’t pretend to know how I felt, but that if I wished, you would listen. You said that it had helped you after your mother passed. You were so gentle even after being assaulted by those assholes. You had time to worry about my emotions.”

  “When you put it that way, I guess I’ll take the compliment.”

  Ethan sat on the cushion next to her. Close, but not touching. Her skin tingled as his manly cedar scent filled her senses.

  “I wanted to kiss you,” Ethan said, and longing filled his voice. “I needed to banish the pain and fear in your eyes.”

  “I craved it so badly, too. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t.”

  “I had to protect you from me.”

  “Have we changed?” Sam asked. “There’s a mighty gulf still separating us, but even then, I sensed that we’d shared a special bond. It connected us.”

  “I couldn’t even admit it to myself. I was married. You were so young. I was still coping with my mother’s passing.”

  Relief and hope surged through Sam. She hadn’t just imagined that Ethan had been attracted to her that day. “Was it just the high emotions of the moment? I’d had a crush on you since the day Austin brought you by the house in your football gear and jerseys.”

  “Did you? I like that. Does that make me an idiot?”

  “You’ve been my hero. I’ve never forgotten how you wiped my tears away and made me feel protected the night of the bonfire.”

  “I was a total shit. I came so close to kissing you that day.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “It would have been incredibly dishonorable.” Ethan held Sam’s gaze. “I couldn’t take advantage of you.”

  “I knew. Even in that moment. As soon as you pulled away, I could see the regret in your eyes.”

  “I was in shock that I wanted you so much.”

  “Did you? Do you still?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “You’re like an itch in my blood.” Ethan ran a finger along the line of her jaw.

  Sam leaned into his touch as electricity spread through her veins.

  “I want to wrap my arms around you. Claim you. I want to devour you with my kisses and my touch. I want you to burn with need that only I can quench.”

  “Show me.”

  His lips swept against hers with the lightest, feathery of sensations. She trembled. He was tantalizingly near.

  “I can’t get you out of my mind,” Ethan whispered and stroked the dent behind her ear with his thumb. “I hear a car go by, and I’m sure it’s you coming home. Why won’t you bring me another cake?” His voice was plaintive but tinged with laughter.

  “Is cake all that you need?” Sam licked her lips. “I can bake you another.”

  Ethan rose and pulled Sam to her feet. Their fingers intertwined, their hips touching. His mouth poised above hers.

  “I want to make love to you. I want to hold you close, set your senses on fire, and hear you begging me for more.”

  “I need you.” Her voice was rough, low.

  “I need to touch the curve of your belly and know that our child is growing inside you.” Ethan still hovered inches from her mouth. “Kiss me, now.”

  The flame coursing through every fiber of her body demanded that she comply. For now, all that mattered was shared need. It had to be enough.

  She melted into his lips. She clung to his hands as she slid her body against his. A fever rampaged through her blood. She freed her hands from his and tore off her coat.

  Ethan peeled off his shirt and flung it to the floor. He bent to close the firebox door, and Sam bit her lip as his abdominals rippled in the gray light spilling through the window.

  She grabbed him by the belt, unhitched the buckle and tugged it loose. She pushed against his chest until he backed up against the door. She rained kisses down his neck, and she licked and nibbled on an earlobe.

  Ethan moaned and with one hand, batted at the door pressed into his back until he flipped the deadbolt to locked. With a teasing tongue skimming the outline of her mouth, Ethan scooped her into his arms.

  She sucked on his neck as he strode through the room and into the small bedroom. They tumbled onto the bed in a jumble of arms and legs and fevered hands.

  “We have too much clothing on.” Sam fumbled with the metal button on Ethan’s jeans, so she settled with jerking down his zipper.

  “That’s an easy fix.” Ethan’s long fingers encircled her waist before he caressed a path up her spine and unhooked her bra. With a quick move, both her breasts were cradled in his palms.

  She slid her hand to the soft cotton fabric shielding his rock-solid heat beneath the denim. She curled fingers around the hard ridges of his erection.

  “Two can play at that game.” In three moves, he had her jeans around her knees and two fingers massaging her folds through the satiny lace of creamy panties. He cupped her mound with his mouth and let his hot breath tease until she thrust against him.

  Sam shook loose from her pants and with her thumb, she tugged on her panties with a swirl of her hips. She tossed them at his feet with a wink. “Now take off your jeans.”

  “Get rid of that damn sweater.”

  She raised up to her knees and pulled the knit fabric over her head. Ethan sucked and flicked her taut nipples as she arched back.

  “Take me now. I want to feel you buried inside me.”

  Ethan raked her body over with his glance as it lingered longer over the flat plane of her stomach. She placed his hand on her belly and then guided his hand lower, to the heat firing between her legs.

  Ethan groaned at her slick, wet need. He bent for one quick taste, and she shook as his tongue grazed the tight knot of her clit. She crumpled back onto the bed, and Ethan towered over her.

  He hummed a low growl in his throat, licked and pinched her nips, and claimed her mouth. He tasted. He probed. He caressed as he ground his cock against her rigid clit.

  She bucked and moaned.

  “I want you. God, I need you.” Ethan arched and plunged into her hot, silky depths.

  She cried out. His shaft carved her in two, but as he pulled back and thrust again, she clenched against his shattering hardness.

  “I love you.” The words slipped from between her lips before she could censor them. Raindrops rapped on the windows, and a log shifted in the stove in the main room.

  He studied her, but his eyes were veiled by the dim light. Her words hung in the void. Ethan stroked her cheek and pressed his mouth against hers. He caressed her hips and traced his tongue along the side of her neck.

  He rocked against her hips. He slid in and out. Her head fell back. Her words forgotten. Fire and electricity popped and burned.

  Sam gasped as tension built and built. To glorious, coiling pressure. Her breath caught, and she shuddered and shattered. Her release spiraled and pulsed, as Ethan moaned and rocked against her need.

  With one wild, deep thrust, his climax throbbed. She arched her hips and clenched against his diamond-hard shaft. Ethan cried out with a final drive.

  Ragged breaths eased. His strong, solid mass wrapped her like a comforting cloak. She resisted the urge to wrap her legs around his hips and hold him close.

  He raised and smoothed back a strand of her hai
r. A half-smile played at the corner of his mouth. He rolled onto his back and tucked her into the crook of his arm. Their hot skin clung, and Sam shivered as a cool draft kissed her into goose bumps.

  Ethan snatched the folded blanket at the foot of the bed, and together they spread it over their naked, still entwined bodies.

  The rain pelted the thin windows, and a trickle of warmth leaked in from the glowing stove in the living room. Her eyelids grew heavy, and Ethan’s breaths evened and deepened into sleep.

  As she dozed, Ethan’s palm stole onto her lower belly. She sighed and drifted back into a sweet slumber.

  ***

  An hour later, they stood next to her car. The rain had stopped, but the glowering clouds threatened another downpour.

  “Jump in, and I’ll drive you back to your dad’s,” Sam said.

  “No, I’ll walk back.” Ethan stepped away from her vehicle. “I think the rain will hold off.”

  Sam pressed her lips together. That proved that Ethan wasn’t ready to announce anything to his family or to the world. For once, she agreed with him. She fiddled with the keys in her hand.

  Oh shit. What had she done? Wild sex. Awkward good-bye. It was habit forming. At least she couldn’t get pregnant again. She stifled a giggle that came out as a half-sigh.

  “Are you all right? You’re not getting sick are you?”

  “No. I’m fine. My blueberry muffin gave me the queasies this morning, but other than that, nothing.”

  “Maybe you’ll luck out.”

  “I could live without morning sickness.”

  Ethan pulled her hand into both of his. He kissed the top of it. She met his gaze, but she couldn’t read anything other than determination and a hint of tenderness.

  “Marry me.”

  “That’s crazy.” She tugged her hand back, but Ethan held tight. “You don’t want a wife.” She waited, and Ethan didn’t deny the truth in her words.

  “We should be a family.” His voice lowered. “We’d be good together.”