Jill Shalvis - Then Came You

She had the clippers and was already working on trimming fur away from the worst of the cuts.

“We going to talk about it?” he asked.

She didn’t play dumb. “Yeah. Sure.”

“It was serious stuff, the things Sara said.”

Her mouth went a little grim as she administered the meds with a steady hand. “True, but it wasn’t her stuff to say.”

“Maybe not,” Wyatt murmured. “But her heart seems to be in the right place.” He hadn’t liked knowing how hurt Emily had been in the past, but he’d needed to hear it. Something had begun to shift for him over the past few weeks when it came to his feelings for her.

They’d deepened. Far more than he’d ever expected them to.

She met his gaze, her own flashing a fierce independence and pride. “I’m fine,” she said firmly. “I want you to know that much. I have all my stupid pieces.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, so maybe a few pieces are dented, but I’m not broken or anything. I really am fine.”

He gave a little smile. “You are that.”

“And we never talked about it before because we both know where we stand,” she said. “We started this thing out as a one-time thing, and I get that its since turned into a few times, but it’s still just . . .”

“Fun and games?” he asked wryly.

“You said it, too,” she reminded him. “That night in your truck. You said that when we parted in Reno, you hadn’t planned on seeing me again. I wasn’t on your plan either, Wyatt. So yeah, this is fun and games. Well, minus the games, because I’m not playing games with you. I wouldn’t even know how.”

He took in her earnest expression and let out a long, slow breath. He knew that about her. He loved that about her. “Well, I know how,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t. Not with you. Never with you.”

“So . . .” She searched his face. “We’re good?”

She wanted them to be okay. She needed them to be okay. And damn, but he did, too. He wanted a lot of things actually, most of which would have to wait. “Yeah. We’re good.”

They worked in silence on the sedated dog, flushing the wounds with disinfectant, suturing a few of the deepest wounds, treating and bandaging everything else.

“He’s going to need antibiotics, pain meds, and bandage management daily for a good solid week,” he said when they’d finished. “Are we releasing him into your care?”

She blew out a breath and picked up the still sleepy, sedated dog with a sweet gentleness that was more than doctor to patient.

Recognizing the signs well, Wyatt smiled. “Yeah, we’re releasing him into your care.”

“Just until I find his owner,” she said. She looked exhausted, on edge, and deeply unnerved.

Shit.

“He’s going to need watching over tonight,” he said, “and I’ve got a lot more paperwork to do, anyway. Let me take him for you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask.” Together, they looked down at the dog in Emily’s arms. His eyes opened and locked on Emily, big and forlorn.

She sucked in a breath.

Already, the dog knew how to charm a woman.

“I’m taking him with me,” Emily said, and looked at Wyatt. She caught his grin. “Just until I find his owner,” she repeated.

“Uh-huh.”

“You can resist these warm, brown eyes?” she asked.

“Sweetness, I live with two sisters who are the queens of male manipulation. I can resist anyone and anything.”

An empty, hollow untruth, because he’d never been able to resist the underdog, the injured, the weak. Ironically, he couldn’t resist Emily either, though she was just about the least weak woman he’d ever met.

“So not true,” she said, calling him on his bullshit. “You live with your sisters because you can’t resist taking care of them. And you spend way more time with each animal you see than is necessary. And I’ve seen you treat them for free when their owners don’t have money. You can’t resist a damn thing.”

No kidding, and especially not her.

You think you have me all figured out?” Wyatt asked softly.

Did she think that? No. Not in a million years. “Maybe not completely,” Emily said.

He looked at her for a beat, then took the dog from her and gently set him inside a crate.

“But—” she started, stopping when he turned back and pulled her into him.

Her body instantly came alive. “Wyatt—”

“Shh,” he said, lowering his head to press his jaw to hers. “I need a hug.”

This wrung a laugh out of her because they both knew who needed a hug, and it wasn’t him. But he was big and strong and warm, and damn.

Damn.

He felt so good that her limbs acted of their own accord and snuggled in, burrowing, inhaling deep the very male, very delicious scent of him.

“Did you just smell me?” he asked.

“No.”

He laughed quietly, not bothering to call her on the lie. Stroking a hand up her back, he let out a low sound of regret. “Ah, Em. You’re one big knot.”

“It’s my life,” she said, closing her eyes, holding on tight, hoping he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

Or ever.

She shifted to plant her face into his throat, loving the scent of him, the texture of his skin, the heat of him. God, she loved it when he held her like this, like for a moment he’d shoulder all of her problems.

“You need to make time to relax once in a while,” he said, his big hand stroking up and down her back, making her want to stretch into him like a cat in heat.

“A drink might do it,” she said. “So would ice cream.”

“I’ve got something better.”

She snorted.

He laughed softly and squeezed her tight. Her heart rate ramped up, which had nothing to do with the adrenaline rush of the rescue and everything to do with the man holding her. He was in his usual cargoes and T-shirt, sans the doctor coat tonight. She’d been too discombobulated earlier to see what the shirt said, but she couldn’t deny that he was sexy as hell in everything he wore. Now he was all the more after watching him work on a dog that wasn’t even his patient, and in no way his responsibility.

And yet he’d given one hundred percent to the dog.

And her.

When she’d first met him in Reno, she’d convinced herself he was a shallow, one-night stand guy. But over the past weeks, she’d come to realize how wrong she’d been.

He was strong, inside as well as out. He was smart and funny and protective, and incredibly sexy. But more than just about everything else, he was rock solid steady and unflappable. A guy you wanted at your back.

And he wasn’t in her plan. Still wasn’t, though she hadn’t updated her plan in a while. She didn’t even know how many days were left in Sunshine. If she opened her calendar right now, John would still be in it as one of her goals. “Dammit.”

Wyatt went still, then pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “Problem?”

“Sorry. You make me forget my plan.”

“The one with an almost boyfriend on it, the almost boyfriend who you never talk to or about?”

“Hey, you’re one to judge. You never say one word about Cissy.”

He laughed. “You know her name isn’t Cissy.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why don’t you ever talk about her, about Caitlin?” Her gut squeezed. “Did she break your heart, Wyatt?”

His mouth curved. “You worried about me?”

“I do like to worry.”

“Caitlin isn’t a factor,” he said. “Not with us.”

Her heart fluttered, and she wasn’t sure if that was because of the way he’d said Caitlin’s name, with such aching familiarity, or that he’d said “us.” She drew a deep breath. “There is no us,” she said. “And how is Caitlin not a factor, when you can’t even talk about her?”

“Do you talk about John?”

“You know damn well he’s not really a factor.”

“And yet you still put him between us.”

There was that “us” again. “Look who’s talking, the guy who’s got a daily Casserole Brigade.”

“At least those women are real.”

She should have picked up the dog and headed out. It was late, she was tired. And her resistance was down—as evidenced by the urge to throw herself at him.

Wyatt looked at the dog who’d curled up in the crate and gone to sleep, the poor, exhausted baby—and then he grabbed Emily’s hand and tugged her from the room and into his office. “I’m going to head out,” she said. “I—” She broke off when Wyatt yanked her into him.

“I don’t care about a stupid name on your calendar, a name of some dumbass who’s too much of a dumbass to make you his,” he said.

She stared up at him. His eyes were filled with heat, and a surprising temper, a really heady combination. Something wriggled deep inside her. It felt a little bit like a piece fitting into a puzzle. There were emotions, too. Affection, and hunger for this man who never seemed to care what a mess she was. “Crap,” she whispered, still staring at him. Not again. Still . . .

“What?”

“This,” she said, and tugged off his glasses. Then she tugged him down to her level, and kissed him.

He let her have her way for a minute, and then took control, hands in her hair, tongue in her mouth, hard body settling against hers. The heat of him seared into her as she tried to pull him in even closer. Hell she’d have climbed him like a tree if she could.

He pulled back a fraction, smiled a satisfied badass smile, and kissed her again until she forgot to breathe, forgot who she was, hell, she forgot where she was. All she could feel was Wyatt from the top of her head all the way to her toes, and everywhere in between.