Instant Gratification (Wilder #2)(52)

“I’m a big girl, you know,” she said wryly. “I’ve lived on my own from the day I went off to college.”

“Sure, but it’s nice to have family around. You’ve been without.”

“I manage to keep busy enough.”

“That’s not what I mean. Everyone needs a support system, Emma. People they can count on.”

“I have friends.”

“Spencer.”

Again their gazes met as he pulled into the Urgent Care’s lot. “Yes,” she agreed. “Spencer. And others.”

Stone turned off the truck, handed her the keys, then surprised her by getting out into the rain with her. She started to run through the downpour to the building, but the small movement sent fire along her torso and slowed her down. When she came to a stop on the top step, she pressed her hands to her chest as spots swam in her vision. Dammit.

With a low oath, he took her keys from her hands. “Easy,” he murmured, and unlocking the door for her, very gently nudged her inside.

They entered the reception area together, dripping water all over the floor as she realized he was now stuck here without a way home, which showed her just how little she’d been thinking in the past half hour. “I’m sorry. I’ll drive you—”

“I’ll call TJ for a ride.” But instead of doing that, he came at her. “In a minute.”

He was big and tall and wet, and not looking nearly as laid-back and easygoing as she was used to as he reached behind her and locked them in.

“What—”

“Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her down the hall to the first examination room, nudging her up against one of the tables. “Let’s see,” he murmured. “How did you get started with me? Oh, yeah.” He smiled grimly. “Strip.”





Chapter 17




Emma let out a laugh that sounded jittery and nervous to her own ears, but that was bound to happen when a gorgeous, wet guy looked at her from amazing green eyes and murmured “strip.” “Okay,” she said, lifting a hand. “I can appreciate both the irony and your sense of humor on this but this is really completely different from when you were hurt.”

“No, it’s not.” Clearly knowing his way around, he opened the drawer and pulled out a cotton gown, dangling it from his fingers.

She laughed, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not going to play doctor with you.”

“Ah, come on.” He waggled a brow. “I’ll let you hold the stethoscope. It’ll be fun.”

“You know, it just occurred to me to wonder why you’re not married or at least taken. But I think I’m getting why.”

He laughed. “Hey, I’ve been occasionally taken. It’s just that nothing’s stuck.” He set his hands on the jacket he’d put on her, spreading it open.

“Hey—”

He gently tugged it off. “I know why you’re not married,” he said. “You’re too mean.”

“I’m not married because I’m unusually hard to hold on to. As I’ve mentioned.”

“Yeah. Handy excuse.”

“What?”

“You’re easy enough to hold on to, Emma.” Evidenced by the way he was holding onto her. “You just get restless and anal and uptight, and scare them all off.”

“Stone—”

“Emma,” he said, mocking her fierce tone. He reached for her drenched and very clingy sweater. She slapped his hands away, but that didn’t stop him from unbuttoning the three small pearl buttons.

“Okay,” she said shakily, crossing her arms over her breasts. “This has gone far enough.”

“It most definitely has.” His eyes met hers, filled with humor and determination, and a surprising affection. “Though I’m starting to see past the usual chilly Dr. Evil exterior.”

She choked out a laugh. “Dr. Evil?”

“Dr. Fiercely Determined, then. Better?”

She looked into his eyes again and saw something else, to go with all the other things that had already overwhelmed her, and this one stopped her heart because it brought the night before to the forefront of her mind—as if it’d ever left!—Heat.

God, so much heat.

He stepped closer, his voice a husky murmur. “I don’t care that you scare men away, Emma. Or that I’m too laid-back for you. I don’t care that we tend to annoy the shit out of each other, and that while we’re at it, we also make each other hotter than a bonfire in July. You’re hurt. You know it, and I see it, and I’m not leaving here until I know how bad.”

She stared into his eyes for one more beat, saw the mulish stubbornness that matched her own, and let out a breath. Fine. Lifting her fingers to her sweater, she shrugged out of it herself, biting her lower lip at the pain in her ribs as she did so.

His gaze dropped, and though he didn’t say a word or move a muscle, she nearly slipped to the floor in a boneless heap from the sheer heat that blazed from him.

She looked down as well.

Her silky white top was wet and was plastered to her like Saran Wrap. It was also sheer, as was the white bra beneath it, leaving her pretty much completely exposed.

Letting out a low breath, he lifted his hands and set them on her waist, fingers spread wide, his touch light and almost unbearably gentle. “So how do we check to see if you broke a rib?”