Weekend Fling with the Surgeon

by Janice Lynn

Despite his having put on a good show that morning for anyone who might be looking their way, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was all he’d been doing.

  What if, unlike her, he hadn’t started to have real feelings? Real desires?

  Callie joined her in the wedding lineup, then the music changed to what every moment of the day had been building up to. Every wedding guest stood, turned to look toward where the bride would soon appear.

  And then Reva was there.

  McKenzie’s heart filled with pride at her beautiful cousin’s obvious love and happiness as she made her way down the aisle to her waiting groom.

  The wedding ceremony went perfectly, with the groom soon kissing his bride.

  McKenzie was paired with a groomsman, and arms linked, they walked back down the aisle with the photographer snapping away as they did.

  They posed for photos that included the bride and groom, then were soon dismissed while the photographer took shots of just the bride and groom.

  Once inside the reception hall, McKenzie immediately sought Ryder.

  “Looking for someone?”

  “Oh!” She spun at his voice, almost losing balance as she stared into his honey eyes.

  “Sorry.” He grabbed her elbow, steadying her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Were you waiting on me?”

  “Something like that.”

  He must have been, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so close to the door because she’d barely made it inside the reception hall.

  Just looking at him filled her with such jitters, with such a need to talk to him, away from the crowd.

  “I—I don’t want to stay here, Ryder.”

  His brow lifted. “You want to go back to Seattle?”

  “Yes, but that’s not what I mean.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door she’d just come through. “I need some fresh air.”

  “Even though you just came from outdoors?”

  “Work with me here,” she ordered as she took off in the opposite direction of where the bride and groom were still snapping shots.

  She walked until she came to a gazebo that was laced with deep red knock-out roses. Inside the gazebo was a bench and just beyond it was a small gurgling creek.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “Beautiful.”

  “Yes.”

  McKenzie turned toward him. He’d been looking at her and not the gorgeous scenery.

  “I’m sorry about last night, Ryder. I wanted to tell you this morning, but I overslept and then we were never alone and... I should have told you about Clay.”

  “You could have told me.”

  She nodded. “I should have. Only...”

  “Go on,” he repeated.

  “Only, you are a gorgeous, successful man. What sane woman wants to tell you she wasn’t worth hanging on to by any man she’s ever dated?”

  “You don’t believe that, do you?”

  She shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Wherein lies the problem. Have you ever considered that there were other reasons why your relationships don’t work out?”

  McKenzie took a deep breath, stared out at the pond. “It really is beautiful here, isn’t it?”

  “Is that how you deal with things you don’t want to deal with? Change the subject?”

  “You want me to go into the details of my breakup with Clay? Or give you all the details of my breakup with Paul?”

  “It’s not on the top of the list of conversations I’d like to have with you, but if it would help you to talk about it, I’m game.”

  Why was she getting upset with him again? She’d spent the entire day planning to let him know how much she regretted their disagreement the night before.

  She winced. “I don’t want to talk about any man but you, Ryder. I want to talk about us, about what’s happening between us.”

  His lips pressed to a thin line.

  “Don’t confuse this weekend with something real, McKenzie. You’re on the rebound and that makes everything feel more intense.”

  She opened her mouth to correct him, but he pulled her to him, silencing her just as she realized someone was nearing the gazebo.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Reva! McKenzie should have known the photographer would want photos at the gazebo and creek.

  Rather than answer her cousin with words, because words failed her, McKenzie placed her hands against Ryder’s cheeks, stood on tiptoes and kissed him.

  Because if she couldn’t tell him with words how she was feeling, maybe she could show him.

  * * *

  It’s for show, Ryder reminded himself.

  That was the only reason McKenzie was kissing him. Because her cousin, Jeremy and the photographer had walked up on their discussion, and true to everything about this weekend for McKenzie, she didn’t want there to be the slightest dark cloud on her cousin’s big day.

  Ryder should care that he was being used, should pull away. He did care.

  But this was what he’d agreed to.

  For all intents and purposes, he had agreed to be used.

  So, he kissed McKenzie back as if he believed she was kissing him because she wanted to kiss him rather than to reassure their audience who might have picked up on their tension.

  He kissed her as if the sweetness with which she caressed his face was a true lover’s touch.

  “Ahem,” the photographer interrupted.

  Ryder’s gaze locked with McKenzie’s, he waited for her to pull away from him. Slowly, she did so, her eyes hazy, her lips plump from their kiss, as she turned toward her cousin.

  “Oh, sorry. We just needed a few minutes to ourselves. You know how it is.” With that, McKenzie grabbed his hand. “We’ll get out of the way.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “THAT KISS, THOUGH!” Reva cooed later when the wedding party was seated at the front of the reception hall. “I thought smoke was going to start coming out of your ears any moment when we walked up on you at the gazebo.”

  Fighting rising heat in her face, McKenzie smiled at her cousin. “Ryder is a good kisser.”

  “Have you slept with him yet?” Callie asked.

  McKenzie didn’t answer.

  “Girl, what are you waiting for? You’re sleeping in the same room. Please tell me you’re not making him sleep on the floor.” Callie fanned her face. “That man is hot.”

  Ryder was hot. He was also not really hers. Kenzie had never slept around, had only ever been with two men. She couldn’t just sleep with Ryder because of his close proximity. She needed more than that to give her body to a man.

  “I imagine no one makes Ryder Andrews do anything he doesn’t want to do,” McKenzie answered, glancing over at where Ryder sat with her brother. The two of them seemed to have truly hit it off and were once again deep in conversation.

  “He seems a great guy, Kenz,” Reva pointed out. “I hope it’s not too long before we’re celebrating your big day.”

  McKenzie almost choked on the bite she’d just taken.

  “Let’s get through your wedding day before we start planning mine.” Which might not have been the right thing to say as Reva’s eyes widened with delight.

  “I knew it.”

  McKenzie got through her wedding obligations and was grateful when the wedding party were freed from their duties so they could mingle among the other guests.

  “Okay, I need all the single ladies,” the wedding coordinator announced. “Come on, girls. It’s time for the bouquet tossing.”

  McKenzie reluctantly joined the other single women. Reva met her gaze, winked, then turned to toss the bouquet. Rather than join the scurrying to catch the flowers, McKenzie stepped back, happily letting Callie snatch the bouquet.

  When she rejoined Ryder and Mark, the two men shook the
ir heads.

  “I’m disappointed. You should have had that bouquet.”

  “I didn’t want that bouquet,” she pointed out.

  “Okay, gentlemen, it’s your turn,” the coordinator announced. “Gather up front.”

  “You don’t have to go up there,” she told Ryder.

  “Sure, I do,” he countered, standing, then bending to give her a quick obligatory peck on the lips. “Wish me luck.”

  Knowing several of the guests around them, including her brother, could hear everything being said, McKenzie smiled. “Go get ’em, Tiger.”

  When Ryder caught the garter, he held it up like a prized trophy, looked McKenzie’s way, and waggled his brows. The crowd loved it and let out cheers.

  McKenzie’s face burned, but she kept her smile in place.

  “Looks like you finally have one wanting to stick around,” Aunt Myrtle said from a table over. Her voice was loud and carried to where half the guests in attendance had to have heard, Ryder included. McKenzie blushed.

  “Look what I got for you,” he bragged, twirling the garter on his finger.

  “Hate to break it to you, but perhaps you didn’t notice during the bouquet toss, I don’t want that.”

  Grinning, he leaned in close and whispered, “Sure, you do. Everyone here will be busy talking about my catching this rather than you missing the bouquet that practically dropped into your arms. You can thank me later.”

  That’s why he’d caught the garter? Because he was still trying to help her save face?

  She’d never met anyone like him. He had no reason to help her, and yet, he was determined to do everything he could to make her look good.

  She wanted to hug him. For real.

  “Now, congratulate your man.”

  McKenzie’s brows started V’ing together, then she recalled they really were the second most-watched couple at the wedding.

  “Congratulations, Ryder.” She smiled beatifically, leaned close to his ear and whispered, “You planning to wear that for me later tonight?”

  * * *

  If she’d been trying to leave Ryder speechless, good job.

  Because, although he could think of dozens of responses to her comment, he couldn’t form the words to say a single one.

  Because his brain kept getting stuck on the fact that she’d been flirting with him.

  For real.

  Self-preservation demanded Ryder keep his guard up.

  Because staying away from McKenzie once they were back in Seattle was going to be more difficult.

  He’d do it, though.

  The wedding couple’s first dance was announced, then the groom danced with his mother, and the bride her father. Then everyone was invited out onto the dance floor.

  Knowing he’d keep his promise to her for the rest of the weekend, that keeping that promise was his motivation for wanting to take her out on the dance floor, Ryder stood, held out his hand. “How about it, McKenzie? You up for a foot-stomping two nights in a row?”

  Hesitating only a moment, McKenzie placed her hand into his. “I’m not worried. I’ll just be sure not to stand next to you during any line dances, and I should be fine.”

  * * *

  Perhaps McKenzie had drunk too much of the free-flowing champagne. Perhaps it was how Ryder was putting on such a great show of being enamored with her that even she was convinced.

  Perhaps it was how her body melded against his during the slow songs and how their eyes held each other’s during fast ones as their bodies moved to the music.

  Perhaps it was like he implied and the attraction she felt was simple genetically embedded chemistry that a gorgeous, intelligent man was near and she was DNA coded to respond.

  She didn’t believe so, but what did she know? She’d gotten things all wrong in her past relationships.

  What made her think she’d do any better in a fake one?

  Regardless of the reasons why, her body was responding.

  To every look, every touch, every whispered comment, every laugh at something she said, every gentle kiss he bestowed on her hair while he held her close and they swayed to Reva’s playlist.

  Each song was like another round of foreplay, building tension within her, wearing down her reasons why she shouldn’t invite Ryder into her bed that night.

  It had been a while since she’d had sex.

  But she didn’t recall ever wanting it quite as badly as she did at the moment.

  So badly that she was ready to ditch the wedding, take Ryder home and do all the things to him that her family and friends thought she should already have done.

  “What are you thinking?”

  McKenzie lifted her gaze to Ryder’s. What would he say if she told him she was thinking about how much she’d like to strip his clothes off him and find out if he was as good in bed as she suspected he was?

  Would he accuse her of not knowing what she was feeling? Of just being on the rebound and so not capable of rational discernment of her emotions?

  “That Reva’s wedding went well.”

  As if he knew that hadn’t been what she was thinking, Ryder’s brow arched. “Any regrets on coming this weekend?”

  “None.” She hadn’t. Would she say the same if she failed to act on her attraction to Ryder? Would she forever wonder what would have happened if she’d told him she didn’t want him to sleep on the floor? That she wanted him in bed, with her, but not to sleep?

  Later that night, Kenzie was still wondering the same thing when she finished in the bathroom, came back into her bedroom, and saw Ryder lying on his pallet on the floor.

  She paused by the door, hesitant, wondering which she’d regret more: climbing into her bed and falling asleep alone or inviting him into her bed and not sleeping at all?

  Having no doubt heard her enter the room and wondering why she’d stopped just inside the door, he opened his eyes.

  His beautiful honey-colored eyes that seemed to glow in the soft lamplight.

  McKenzie swallowed.

  She wanted to have sex with Ryder.

  How crazy was that when she knew they weren’t really a couple, when she knew that when they returned to Seattle tomorrow evening the pretense would be over and it was all too possible that he’d go back to avoiding her?

  They were in the here and now.

  In the here and now, Ryder was with her, was lying on her bedroom floor looking at her with those magnificent eyes. It might just be the convenience of proximity that caused the flash of heat, but she saw the lust burning in his gaze that she suspected flickered in her own.

  But he didn’t say anything, didn’t even move, just watched as she crossed the room to stand next to the bed.

  He wouldn’t say anything, would let her climb into her bed and lie there wishing he was with her.

  She couldn’t do it.

  Her whole life she’d settled when it came to relationships, to sex, to the men in her life.

  Tonight, she wasn’t settling.

  She wanted Ryder, wanted the warmth of his touch, the heat of his kisses, the burn that spread inside her at anticipation of what she was about to do.

  Rather than climb into her bed, or even to invite him to join her there, in case he said no, McKenzie knelt, straddled Ryder, her hips positioned perfectly over his as she leaned forward to press her lips to his.

  * * *

  Sexual tension had been building between them all night. All weekend. Longer.

  But Ryder hadn’t expected McKenzie to act on what was blazing between them.

  He’d thought as long as he didn’t say anything, she’d get in her bed and go to sleep. Tomorrow they’d go back to Seattle, then he’d make sure their paths didn’t cross for long enough for him to get his attraction to her back under control.

  Because it was out of control.
>
  Or maybe he’d fallen asleep and was dreaming, and her hair didn’t really cascade around him as she explored his mouth with hunger that matched his.

  Whatever, he thrust his fingers through the silken tresses and pulled her to him, deepening their kiss.

  She shifted above him, and he had to close his eyes to keep from lifting his hips to push into where she straddled his body.

  He wanted to strip away their clothes, the thin blanket covering him, and thrust into her for real.

  The deeper, the better.

  Under different circumstances, he’d roll, pin her beneath him, and take control of what was happening.

  He should stop her. Should remind her she was on the rebound. Should remind himself she was on the rebound.

  “We should stop. Your emotions are high from the wedding. You’ll regret this in the morning,” he warned.

  “You’re wrong,” she corrected, shifting her bottom over him. “This has nothing to do with the wedding and everything to do with you. I want this. I want you.”

  “McKenzie,” he groaned. He wanted to do the right thing. For her. For him. He should stop her.

  Then again, maybe this was what the entire weekend had been building up to. What had been building since they’d met.

  Whatever the case, Ryder didn’t stop her.

  Couldn’t stop her.

  Instead, he used every ounce of willpower to let McKenzie lead, for her to dictate what happened every step of the way, no matter where that took them.

  Whatever happened between them would be of her doing, her choice.

  He’d wanted her from the beginning. Had only been fooling himself that he was over his fascination with her during the time he’d been avoiding her. He hadn’t been over a thing.

  Which was why he’d not been able to walk away when she’d needed him to go with her. No way would he have let her spend the weekend with a hired escort.

  Perhaps he was no better, but he’d never intentionally hurt her. Had always tried to do the opposite, hence his staying away from her when she’d been with her ex for fear he’d act on his feelings for her, that he’d seduce her into something she didn’t want.