Instant Gratification

“My word is my word.” She eyed his truck, sighed heavily, and hopped into the passenger seat.

Unable to believe his luck, he stared at her for a beat, then jogged around to his door before she could change her mind.

Emma swiped her forehead on her arm. Lord, it was hot. Very hot. She looked around the cab of the bad boy truck. It wasn’t for show, the thing had dents and wear and tear, and was clearly well-loved and well-used.

And it had a/c.

Her secret fantasy upped a notch.

Stone started the engine, made her his friend forever when he cranked the air, and within five minutes they were out of Wishful. They made a quick stop at the lodge, where he vanished for a minute, then came back and loaded two bikes in the back.

“I’m not a mountain biker,” she said.

“You will be.”

He took them up a narrow dirt road that she’d never been on before. The going was rough, and she was grateful for her seatbelt as she was knocked side to side. The landscape was thick here, overgrown and wooded, and with the late afternoon sun making shadows, she couldn’t tell much about where they were going except that they were climbing.

And climbing.

“How about a hint about where we’re going?” she asked.

“It’ll take your breath,” was all he said.

Well at sixty-three hundred feet, that she could believe. She looked over at him, driving the nearly nonexistent road with ease in his loose and battered jeans and a t-shirt. His Nike’s looked as old and comfortable as his jeans. Once again, his hair was finger-disheveled and he hadn’t shaved.

Another secret fantasy, a man who wasn’t a slave to his razor. She wanted to know what that stubble felt like rubbing against her skin.

He glanced over at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, it was something. You looked…I don’t know. Hot.”

“That’s because it’s a million degrees.” She’d rather work at the Urgent Care for the rest of the year than admit she’d been picturing him running his face all over her body. “You’re not really a ski and bike bum, are you?”

He slid her another glance. “Is that what you were thinking about?”

“Sort of.” Indirectly. “You run Wilder Adventures. You lead treks by day, and by night you work on the business end; the reservations, the books, the scheduling. Annie seems to think you’re the glue that keeps your family together.”

He seemed amused by his aunt’s assessment. “That’s because I’m her favorite.”

She slid him a look. “She said Cam was.”

He laughed, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was at ease, confident. Happy.

God, that was attractive. “You’re a close family.”

He slid her another look. “We are.” He pulled into a clearing and turned off the truck. “But we’re not exclusive.”

“What does that mean?”

He got out of the truck and came around for her, opening her door, waiting until she leaned forward to get out before stepping between the opened door and where she sat.

Her legs bumped his. She liked the feeling.

Slowly he crouched until they were at eye level. “It means I know you’re feeling alone. That you don’t think you fit in here. But you’re wrong about both. You’re not alone, and you can fit in.”

It was a nice thought. A comforting thought. It put others into her head, which meant her brain got a little fuzzy, what with the hot guy hunkered in front of her and his hot truck at her back. Anticipation hummed through her, and more shocking, a hunger.

Not the usual hunger to be busy, or the thrill of a new medical case.

But a hunger for a man.

For him.

Needing some space, she nudged him with a hand to his chest, and for one beat, he nudged back, his broad torso filling her vision, his eyes suddenly somber and filled with a hunger of his own, his heat and strength tantalizingly close. Just when her fingers were beginning to fist into his shirt, he backed off and held out his hand.

She followed him around the back of the truck. He pulled out the two mountain bikes and handed her a helmet, and when she just stared at it, he put it on for her, his fingers brushing her throat as he clicked her in.

“I don’t know about this,” she said. “It’s so damn hot.”

“It’ll cool down soon.”

“Is this the bet then? You want me to ride with you?”

“No.” He eyed her for a moment, scrubbing a hand over his jaw, which made an oddly erotic scraping noise. “You don’t like to do new things.”

She looked at the trailhead. It seemed narrow. Scary. “I do so.”

“No you don’t. And I know why.”

She turned back to him and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, Mr. Know It All, why don’t I like to do new things?”

“Because you only like to do the stuff you’re good at.”

She blinked, and he laughed at her softly. “Have you ever really had to try at something, Emma? Something important? Or does it all come naturally to you in your world?”

Okay, she resented that. “I worked my ass off to get through medical school.”

“Really?”

She stared at him, then deflated. “No. It came…. easy, and I loved it.” He couldn’t be right, could he? “But residency was hard and exhausting,” she came up with triumphantly. It’d been hard and exhausting and…and exhilarating. “Oh, shut up.”