Jill Shalvis - Instant Gratification

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, the rumors are that you’re not as human as the rest of us mere mortals. But I see peeks of your father coming through.”

“You do not.”

Now Annie laughed. “That wasn’t an insult. Your father’s a good man.” She patted Emma’s arm. “And you’re a good woman.”

Chuck butted his head up against her hand, trying to get her to resume the petting. “How do you know that?”

“You flew out here to take care of his business, didn’t you? That’s what family does,” Annie said confidently.

“You’re close to your family.”

“Extremely.”

“How do you manage that?” Emma asked. “You’re all so different.”

“Oh, it’s Stone. He does it. Ever since he was little, he’s been the protector, the go-to guy. We joke that it’s the middle child in him, but truthfully, his heart is bigger than the rest of ours.” Annie nuzzled Chuck. “Aw, my poor boy.”

“Stone?”

“No, Chuck. He’s been through some rough times. Did you know when we first found him, he was skinny and missing patches of hair? He was the most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen. We fattened him up with food and love.” She eyed the cat’s belly. “I might have gone overboard on the food, but I couldn’t stand to think of him hungry. Anyway, he’s got a bellyache, and it’s swollen. It’s why we’re here.”

With a sigh, Emma reached for the cat, who rolled to its back, and exposed its belly.

“He’s hoping you have bacon,” Annie said while Emma probed and poked. “Or cheese. He’s not picky. Which is probably why he has gas, right?”

“Yeah. Uh, he’s not a he, Annie.”

“What?”

“She’s a she. I’m guessing she’s about to pop out a litter of kittens.”

“You have got to be shitting me.” Annie stared at Emma for a beat, then Chuck, and burst out with laughter. “You know, I had a feeling, because we never really saw his-” She shook her head, her eyes lit with good humor. “I didn’t want to be rude and look, and like I said, he came to us-she came to us.” Annie scooped the cat up against her chest and kissed the thing right on the head. “Babies? Really?”

“Kittens,” Emma corrected.

“Well better her than me.” Annie lifted her gaze, laughing. “Unbelievable. But thanks. Thanks for taking me seriously, for not laughing at me for thinking my cat was a boy when I should have known better. I’ve been around long enough to spot another bitchy female when I see one, feline or not.” She kissed Chuck on her head. “Nothing personal, Kitty.” She turned to the door, then looked back. “Oh. You should know, I love your father. He’s the best doctor Wishful could have ever asked for, but in his place? You’re also the best we could ever ask for.”

The door shut in tune to the ridiculous cowbells.

Calling himself all kinds of crazy, Stone pulled up outside the Urgent Care at five o’clock, hoping Emma would be done for the day. He turned off his truck just as the door of the clinic opened and a teenager stepped out. The kid was shirtless, wearing only cutoffs and flip-flops, and cradling his arm, which was splinted and held into place by a sling.

He was Tucker Adams, a local high school student, and one of the foster kids Stone worked with. Tucker had a nonexistent home life, a learning disability, and was a loner. By all counts, he should have been a rough, edgy kid, with a bad attitude to boot, but he wasn’t. He was quiet but kind and unassuming, and did the best he could with what he’d been given.

Stone upped the ante in Tucker’s favor whenever he could, having the kid work at Wilder on the weekends for extra cash, hauling wood for Annie’s wood stove, serving the guests, whatever they had available, because it gave him and Annie the excuse to give Tucker some basic skills, and also the chance to feed him properly. “Tuck? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

He didn’t meet Stone’s eyes, and Stone’s gut took a hard twist. It’d either been Tucker’s show-up-once-a-month father, or one of the assholes at school. “You come from class?”

“Yeah.”

Okay, at least Stone didn’t have to go beat up his father. “What happened?”

“I didn’t start anything,” he said quickly. “I busted up a fight.” He sounded proud, not pissed. “I got my wrist broke is all.”

“And lost your shirt?”

He gave a quick shake of his head. “I gave it to someone.”

“Someone?”

Tucker lifted a too-lean shoulder. “Shelly.”

The girl he’d had a crush on all year. Like Tuck, she didn’t exactly fit in, and Stone could absolutely see him standing up for her. Tucker was that kind of kid, even more so since he’d been hanging out at Wilder gaining confidence in himself. “She was hurt?”

“A couple of guys were teasing her after her swim practice. I made them stop.”

And he’d given Shelly his shirt to put over her swimsuit, Stone guessed. He nodded, then watched Emma inside as she switched the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. She peeked out the window, saw him, and opened the front door. “Hey.”

“Hey. You treated Tucker.”

“I did.” She smiled fondly at the kid, an uncalculated, honest, genuine gesture that had Stone’s heart giving one hard kick.

“It’s a clean, hairline fracture,” she said, oblivious. “It won’t give him too much trouble.”

Stone nodded, relieved, and shrugged out of his button-down which he handed to Tucker. “Need a ride?”

“I’ve got my bike.”

Stone would have liked to argue that Tucker shouldn’t ride with a broken wrist, but the truth was, when he’d been that age, he’d have done the same thing. Annie would kill him, but he nodded. “With helmet?”

“The one you gave me.”

“Take it easy then.”

“I will.”

When Tucker rode off down the road, Stone turned toward Emma. “Send his bill to me.”

“I’ve got him covered.”

“Thanks.” Yeah, definitely he was in trouble here.

“I’m just closing,” she said. “Spencer’s not back yet, so I’m going to rustle up a casserole for dinner.” She turned to go back in.

“Where’s the fire?”

“The fire? Right here as a matter of fact.” She fanned the steamy air in front of her face. “Does it always get this hot?”

He looked into her glowing face and nodded sympathetically. “We tend to get one really hot week a year. This is it.”

“There’s no air conditioning, which is crazy.”

“We don’t generally need a/c.”

“I just wish it would cool off, I really need to go out for a run.”

He shook his head. “Bad plan.”

“I need to blow off some steam.”

“I have a better way. You want to change into some casual clothes, maybe some shorts, first.”

“Uh huh.” She eyed him with exasperated amusement. “Tell me. How often does that sexy swagger and smile, and then the ‘I have a better way to burn off steam’ line get you laid?”

He laughed. “Look, I’m not trying to-” At her long look, he grinned. “Okay, I’m a guy, and therefore, by default, am always interested in getting laid, but that wasn’t my ulterior motive.”

“What was?”

“Getting rid of that stick up your ass.”

“Excuse me?” She sputtered, then at a loss, laughed in disbelief.

“Look, you were saying you have an image problem here in Wishful, and I think I can help you.”

“By loosening me up.”

“By teaching you how to smell the roses. I’m a giver that way. Come on, Emma. Unless…you’re too chicken?”

Oh, wasn’t he funny, Emma thought. And somehow…charming. And sharp. And he had a bad boy truck, and hell. Deep down, somewhere she didn’t like to visit too often, she had a fantasy about a guy. Not another uptight doctor guy. Not a white-collared professional of any kind.

But a guy in a bad boy truck.

She wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. “I’m not chicken.” She swiped her damp forehead and looked at her watch. “You have thirty minutes.”

“You can’t put a time limit on relaxing.”

“Try.”

He smiled, promising no such thing, and drove her to Moody’s.

Emma stared at the bar and grill. “You going to get me drunk?”

He shot her a look as he parked. “First of all, I never get a woman drunk on the first date.”

“Why, because she doesn’t remember you the next day?”

“No, because I don’t like to clean up puke. And second, I was going to feed you food, not alcohol. Moody’s has great burgers.”

They got out of the truck and when he took her hand, she looked at him. “This isn’t a first date.”

“What is it?”

Since she wasn’t quite sure, she didn’t answer. They walked into the place, and immediately a handful of people waved at Stone. “You’re popular,” she said.

“Yes, and if you smile, you too can be one of the cool kids.”

Okay, so she was holding herself tense, and she definitely wasn’t smiling.

The place wasn’t bad. It was done up Old Western style, with the bar itself a series of refurbished barn doors laid on their sides. The front room was filled with tables for dining, the back room held the pool tables, dart boards, and an area for dancing to the music blaring from the largest juke box she’d ever seen. There were huge antlers hanging on the wall, along with lassoes and brass light fixtures, casting an old-fashioned sort of glow over everyone.

They ordered burgers and fries, and by the time they were done, the place had filled. Stone brought her into the back, to a pool table where Annie, Nick and TJ were playing a rather intense game. Annie came around the table and shoved Stone very affectionately in the shoulder. He stumbled back a step, grinned, and kissed her on the cheek. She softened and hugged him tight.

TJ gave Stone a friendly shove as well, and nodded to Emma. “Hey, Doc. I’m kicking Nick’s ass here. I can kick yours when I’m done if you’d like.”

Stone turned to Emma. “He likes to think he’s the best.”