The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(76)

She let out a low laugh, her hands skimming up his back and then down again, taking hold of two handfuls of the best buns in Wildstone. Maybe in the whole world.

He nearly purred like a big, dangerous, playful cat, and began kissing and sucking and nibbling his way down her neck.

“Gotta get in the shower,” she whispered, and kissed him softly. “I’ve got an early morning.”

His mouth was at her breast now. “I’m good in the shower,” he said huskily.

Which was why it took her forty-five minutes to get out the door instead of her usual fifteen. But Eli had been right—he was very good in the shower.

Body still humming, she drove into town for her appointment. In the waiting room, she grabbed a magazine, but at her every move, the scent of Eli’s soap—which he’d used liberally all over, twice—teased her nostrils. She smelled like him, and her mind kept drifting to the way his eyes had been so intense and focused on her as he’d moved inside her, hands everywhere as he’d whispered naughty, wicked nothings in her ear . . .

When her phone buzzed, she wasn’t surprised to see him calling her. He’d gone back to bed after their shower, saying he had thirty minutes before he had to get up and he needed his beauty rest. So she answered her phone, “Sleeping Beauty arises.”

He laughed softly. “You’ve got no idea.”

She laughed softly. “Did you call for anything in particular?”

“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“What did you want to hear?”

“That sound you make when I—”

“Stop,” she said on a laugh even as she blushed. “Besides”—she lowered her voice—“I’d need assistance to make that sound.”

“I’m available when you are.”

Her body got very happy, but someone was calling her name. “Gotta go.” She slid the phone away and was surprised to find Deck standing there in the doorway waiting on her. He was in midnight-blue scrubs and looking badass official with his credentials hanging around his neck along with a stethoscope, and an iPad in his hand.

He remained utterly professional as he brought her to the back and gestured to the chair she was to sit in.

Once she had, he set down his iPad and looked at her.

“I have to do this,” she said.

“So she doesn’t know.”

When she shook her hand, he looked pained but also relieved.

“You’re worried about her too,” she said.

“Only every single second of every single day.”

She smiled sadly at him, and he nodded before pulling on gloves and then getting out the supplies he needed to do her blood draw. He eyed both of her arms, clearly looking for the best vein. As he wrapped a rubber tourniquet around her biceps, she inhaled a deep breath, and his gaze went to her face. “You have a needle phobia too?”

“No, it’s just not my favorite thing to do,” she admitted, and then sucked in a breath. “Wait—Kinsey has a needle phobia?”

He swiped the spot he’d chosen on her arm with an alcohol pad. “Along with a phobia of men’s toes, people throwing up, and getting dirty, yes. Worst one is the needle phobia, though. It’s bad.”

She gaped at him. “But she gets stuck every week.”

“Three times a week, two pokes each time. Make a fist, darlin’. Little pinch, that’s all.”

She made a fist, so distracted by the thought of Kinsey suffering through a genuine phobia of needles and how awful it must be for her that she barely felt the needle go in. “She never complains.”

Deck’s gaze lifted briefly to Brynn’s. “She does this thing where she protects everyone she cares about from worrying about her. Something you two seem to have in common. That’s it, all done.” He pressed a cotton ball to where the needle had gone in. “Hold on to that for me.”

“That was fast.”

“I’m good.”

“I barely felt it.”

“Not my first time.”

She smiled at him.

He smiled back, but it wasn’t full wattage.

“You haven’t been around,” she said.

“She kicked me to the curb.”

“I was hoping that was more like a temporary thing.”

“Nope.” He turned his back to her and began writing on labels to attach to the vials of her blood.

His broad-as-a-mountain shoulders seemed relaxed and his tone had been mild, but she wasn’t buying it. She’d seen the way he looked at Kinsey. She’d felt how much he loved her. “Are you okay?” she asked.

He pulled off his gloves, tossed them into the bin, and turned to her. “You should get the results within a week.”

Code for no, he wasn’t okay. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t know what happened. She’s very clearly head over heels for you.”

His smile was small and dry. “She’s the bravest woman I know, but she’s also a huge chicken when it comes to certain things.”

“Things like telling someone they’re related to her?” she asked wryly. “Things like letting someone into her heart? Like facing any emotion other than amusement or bad temper?”

He touched his finger to his nose.