Jill Shalvis - Instant Gratification

“Comply with all signs and barriers.”

“That’s just common sense.” Which, not to be egotistical, but she happened to have boatloads of common sense. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay, you need to maintain a distance between the bikes.”

“Again,” she said. “Common sense.” The trail was thick with ruts and mud from the previous day’s rain. Distance was a safety issue. “If that’s all there is to this, prepare for your ass kicking.”

He put a hand on her handlebars, stopping her from taking off. “We’re going to try to avoid the trails that are too wet or muddy.”

“Good. I don’t like wet and muddy.”

“I’d like to assure you that wet and muddy have their place, but not with newcomers.” He turned her bike toward another trail that she hadn’t seen, a slightly wider one, that hadn’t been as damaged by the rains. “Ride in the middle and try to avoid side-slipping, which can lead to erosion.”

She stared up at him, her eyes going directly to that face she couldn’t stop looking at. The men in her world might be more refined, more attached to their razors, but she really liked how he looked.

She liked the rugged arrangement of his features, the way his mouth curved so generously-

“Ready?”

“Ready.” She pushed off into the heat and found her sea legs fairly quickly.

“Change gears,” he called out from behind her. “You want comfortable momentum but traction so you don’t slip-”

“I’m fine-oh, shit,” she gasped as she slipped, and quickly changed gears. Not good. If she was going to win this thing, and she planned to, she’d need to concentrate. She wiped her damp brow and did just that.

The trail turned sharply, then went on a decline, and on instinct, she hit her brakes.

“Careful,” he warned. “Don’t lock ’em up.”

“So as not to gouge the trail?” she asked.

“Or die.”

Good to know. She eased off the brakes. The ride wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. For one thing, it was a whole lot harder than she’d expected it to be. They were on a rocky trail and it was bumpy. She had to concentrate on not pitching herself over the handlebars. For another, as the trail widened and Stone came up alongside, she had to concentrate on not staring at him, at all those lean, hard muscles working, at the way his legs churned, how his hands held the grips as if he’d been born to it.

Oh man was she out of her league, so far out of her league, but luckily, he was just as enthralled watching her. He eyed her legs, her arms, her face, and smiled. “Damn if you’re not harder to beat than I thought you’d be,” he murmured.

Good. She planned on taking advantage of that. Finally, far up ahead, through the tree about a hundred yards ahead, she could see where the trail ended, and after half an hour on this seat, she was ready for it to be done. So she dug deep and sped up, taking the lead.

He let her.

When she stood up to pedal harder, she heard his low breath of appreciation at the view she was giving him, and knew she had the win in the bag. She smiled, because God she loved to win-

Suddenly something whizzed by her, and Stone came to a skidding stop on a dime.

Dammit. “You won,” she gasped, barely able to talk through her wheezing for air.

He modestly lifted a shoulder and got off his bike. “If it helps, you very nearly kicked my ass.”

Very nearly wasn’t going to get her out of swimming. She got off her bike as well, too, still huffing and puffing. Sweating. She couldn’t catch her breath, and sounding like a broken locomotive, she turned and looked at the view.

And went still.

Just ahead was an alpine lake, about a mile across, slightly wider than that. It was completely surrounded by towering mountain peaks lined with thick, lush growth. “Oh my God.”

“Hidden Lakes. We passed two others, hidden in the growth. This one’s the furthest, and the hardest to get to.”

She stepped closer to the water lapping at the coarse mountain sand, taking in the cattails lining the edge, the lily ponds in the shallow water, and shook her head. It was so beautiful she could hardly speak.

They were completely isolated, surrounded by three-hundred-feet-tall sequoias and pines.

And alone.

Stone dropped the small backpack he’d worn on the ride. Something inside squawked, and he crouched down, pulling out a radio. “Go ahead, TJ, over.”

“Where are you? Over.”

“Third Hidden Lake. Over.”

“That group going down Cascade Falls tomorrow showed up two days early. Annie and I rushed back to the lodge and they’re pissed. The schedule’s fucked up, and Annie’s bitching because her pies didn’t get delivered, and now I’m double-booked for tomorrow. When the hell are you getting back? Over.”

“If the schedule’s fucked up,” Stone replied, “it’s because you put your grimy fingers on it.” Sitting on his haunches, he sighed and shook his head. “Leave it alone. I’ll fix it when I get back. The two clients yelling at you can wait for me as well. You’ll just piss them off more. Send Nick for the pies. And you’re not double-booked for tomorrow. I’m taking the Alpine trip. Over.”

“You still didn’t say when you’d be back. Over.”

Stone glanced up at Emma and smiled. “I’ll be back when you stop yelling at me. Over.” With that, he tossed the radio to the ground.

“He sounded desperate,” Emma said. “You’re just going to leave him hanging?”

“Sure. He’s done it to me plenty of times. You okay?” he asked when she sank to the coarse sand.

“Just shaking. I think it’s the altitude.”

He opened the backpack and pulled out two bottled waters and a Ziploc bag full of cookies, which he handed over. “Some sugar should help. Try ‘em. They’re my specialty.”

She took a bite and moaned in sheer bliss. “Oh. My. God. This is better than the scenery, and that’s pretty darn amazing.” She couldn’t get the rest of the cookie in fast enough. “Seriously. You made these?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

He looked amused. “They’re just basic chocolate chip.”

Yes, but when she wanted cookies, or any food for that matter, she went to the store. She used her oven as storage for the pots and pans she’d never used. “I burn water.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking you to cook for me then, isn’t it.”

She looked up, caught the teasing light in his eyes and smiled. It was true. He hadn’t asked her to cook for him. He hadn’t asked anything of her.

Which should have made him the perfect man.

Did make him the perfect man.

Except for the fact that she didn’t want or need one. She didn’t want or need anyone in her life, thank you very much, she thought as she licked the last bit of chocolate from her fingers. “Omigod, these are better than…everything.”

He followed the movement of her tongue with his eyes, but smiled easily. “Life isn’t all about food.”

“True. It’s all about take-out.”

He laughed.

“Hey, I’m not kidding. After twenty hours on your feet and only a few coffees in your system, you wouldn’t snub your nose at Taco Bell, I can promise you.”

“You must work some crazy hours.”

“Yeah.”

“You miss it.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I do.”

“What do you miss the most?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I miss…” She blinked, shocked to find herself drawing a blank.

He arched a brow. “You miss…?”

So much. But suddenly, there in the last of a gorgeous, hot day, surrounded not by the smell of antiseptic and the nagging beat of her pager and cell phone, instead looking into a set of deep jade eyes which were smiling at her with affection and heat, she couldn’t think of a single thing.

How odd was that? “I miss…Thai food,” she said triumphantly.

There. She’d thought of something. A lame something, but still.

Looking amused, he slowly shook his head. “That’s reaching.”

Yeah. It was. Then, still looking at her, he stood up, tall and lean and damp with sweat, and her heart skipped a beat. “What are you doing?”

“Relaxing. Swimming.” He kicked off a shoe. “You remember who won, right?”

Oh, God. “Yes, but…but your brother sounded pissed. Maybe we should go back.”

“Serves him right. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Um,” she said brilliantly as he kicked off his other shoe.

“You lost,” he pointed out gently.

“Oh, that silly bet?” She swallowed hard as he lifted his T-shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. Sweet Jesus. She stared at his mouth watering chest as his fingers went to the button on his jeans. “Stone?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you wearing a bathing suit?”

“Nope.”

Stone’s eyes were full of mischief and a wicked intent, both of which had the same effect on Emma’s insides as his bad boy truck. “Stone. You can’t just-”

He could, and did.

He toed off his socks.

“Yeah, now see-”

Ignoring her stammering, he unbuttoned his Levi’s, and she nearly swallowed her tongue. She’d seen him without a shirt before. On her examination table up close and personal, though of course this time he was void of all the dirt and blood. He still had some scrapes and bruises, which in no way marred the utter perfection of his broad shoulders, chest, and six-pack abs that she suddenly and inexplicably, desperately wanted to lap up like she’d lapped up the last of the chocolate.

His jeans were low-slung and loose enough that they pulled away from him, leaving a tantalizing gap that a woman could stick her entire hand down and-

“Your turn,” he said, pausing from his stripping down.

“I am not going skinny dipping with you.”

“Now here’s one thing I don’t get about women. They always make blanket statements like that, and then change their mind. Wouldn’t it be easier to say nothing at all?”