Call Me Wild (25 page)

Sleep came slowly, but it came, until the banging at the door awoke him. Damn, Fisher opened his gritty eyes and remembered where he was—in his bed, alone, and someone was banging on the door like a madman. In the darkened room, Fisher grabbed a pair of shorts from his bureau, tugged them on as he ran, and threw open the door. Fisher stared at the man he’d seen kissing Jessica, and for the first time, really regretted taking the Hippocratic oath. The “do no harm” part stuck in his craw. Without that line, Fisher could break the guy’s legs and then fix them.

“Nice shorts.” Andrew looked as if he were holding back a laugh.

Fisher glanced down to find his once white tennis shorts were now bright pink. He groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face. Karma.

“Don’t tell me you actually let Jessie do your laundry?”

“Do you really want to go there?” The sound of Jessica’s name coming from this guy made Fisher want to take the binder Andrew held and shove it right up his ass. “I’m working on maybe six hours of sleep in the last three days. You’ve taken your life in your hands showing up here. You’re either brave, stupid, or you have a death wish.”

“Right now, I’m leaning toward stupid.”

Fisher left the door wide open, not really caring what Andrew did, and headed to the kitchen. He needed coffee if he had any hope of dealing with his replacement without committing murder.

Andrew was right about being stupid. He followed Fisher into the kitchen and set the binder on the bar. Fisher put on a pot of coffee, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms to keep from reaching over the bar and throttling the man. “Do you want to tell me what the hell you’re doing here? ’Cause I gotta warn you, if you’re here to gloat, you won’t be leaving without the help of paramedics.”

“I’m not a patient.”

“Yet.”

Andrew shook his head, and then looked into Fisher’s eyes. “Let’s cut to the chase, Fisher. You don’t like me, and believe me, after what you’ve done to Jessie, I really don’t like you. But this isn’t about me or you, it’s about Jessie. She’s my best friend, and I love her too damn much to sit by and watch her suffer when I can do something about it. I want her to be happy and after reading this,” he said and shoved the binder toward Fisher. “Even a blind man can see you make her happy.”

“What is it?” Fisher took the brown manuscript binder and opened it.
Call
Me
Wild
, by Jessie James.

“This is her book? It’s finished?”

“No, it seems she’s missing her research partner.” Andrew rubbed his forehead. “Look. I just drank the better part of a bottle of tequila. If you want me to continue this discussion, it would help if you poured me some of that coffee you just made.”

“Sure. Have a seat.” Fisher filled two mugs and passed one over to Andrew, who took a sip. Fisher took pity on the guy, dug a water out of the refrigerator, and slid it across the bar. “You might want to drink that too.”

“Thanks.” Andrew stared at the water bottle, picking the paper label off, while Fisher watched. Andrew appeared to be fighting an internal war and losing.

Andrew raised his gaze to meet Fisher’s. “Read the manuscript. Jessie drank as much as I did, but she hasn’t eaten or slept in days, so it hit her pretty hard. She’s at home sleeping it off. She won’t be up for a few hours at least.” Andrew took a deep breath and a sip of coffee. “Shit. Maybe I should have stuck with tequila.” He rubbed his chest. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mumbled almost to himself and then squared his shoulders. “I’m warning you. If you hurt her, Fisher, they won’t find the pieces of your body.”

“I love Jessica. I’d never hurt her, but she said I was temporary.” Man, just saying that word made his chest ache.

Andrew nodded and then met Fisher’s gaze. “Yeah, I know.” He patted the top of the manuscript. “Read this, and you’ll see there’s nothing temporary about you. Jessie’s my best friend. We’ve never been anything more than best friends. Don’t make her choose between us—it will hurt her, and it might just kill me.”

Fisher nodded. “This conversation never took place.”

“Okay, good.” Andrew stood and swayed on his feet. “Someone has to be there when Jessie wakes up. Is it going to be you or me?”

“Me.” Fisher picked up the manuscript. “Thanks… Jessica’s really lucky to have a friend like you.”

Andrew stood straighter, his eyes piercing Fisher’s. “You take good care of her, and don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay.” Andrew’s shoulders slumped. He set his coffee down and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

Andrew turned. “Hell if I know. LA, I guess.”

“You can stay here. There’s a guest room upstairs. Besides, you can’t leave without saying good-bye to Jessica.”

“Fine, but you better get over there. I don’t want her waking up alone.”

Fisher threw on a shirt and shoes and grabbed the manuscript. He was out of the house in no time flat. He let himself into Jessie’s house and went to check on her. Man, was she a sight for sore eyes. He sat beside her and brushed the hair off her face. Her eyes blinked open and shut.

“Fisher, you’re here,” she mumbled and curled around him.

“Hey, darlin’, I heard you had too much to drink.”

“I had fruit.”

“That’s good. I’ll be right outside if you need anything. Okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

It was beginning to get dark, so Fisher left the bathroom light on and the door open, in case she needed to make a run for it.

He picked up the manuscript and read. The girl could definitely write. The story was engaging, the characters were well-rounded, the emotions were high, the sex was smokin’ and eerily familiar, and the fear Jenny felt every time Seth told her he loved her was palpable. She’d been terrified. If Jessica’s backstory even remotely resembled Jenny’s, well, shit…

When Jenny told Seth he was temporary, he couldn’t have explained how he’d felt as accurately as Jessica had. It was as if she’d crawled into his mind and took up residence. She knew him. She loved him, just like Jenny loved Seth. When he’d read what Jenny’s next week was like without Seth, his heart broke all over again.

And to think Fisher had thought it was hard to be on the receiving end of that conversation. It didn’t compare to the horror that Jenny had felt—the guilt, the fear, the loss that she knew she’d brought on herself.

He left the manuscript on the table. It was after midnight, and Jessica was still sleeping. From what Jenny had been through, he surmised Jessica hadn’t been able to sleep any better without him than he’d been able to sleep without her. He went to her, slid under the covers, and pulled her into his arms.

Jessie shot up in bed, and her hand went to her head to keep it from exploding. What the hell had happened? She’d dreamt that she’d spent the night in Fisher’s arms. It had seemed so real, she could swear she still smelled him. But he wasn’t there, and her bed looked like a bomb exploded in it—signs of a restless night. Still, except for being extremely hung over, for the first time in a week, Jessie felt rested. She figured tequila was good for something.

Gingerly, she slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and cringed. The dark circles under her eyes made the rest of her face look even paler than she suspected the nausea did. She opened the door, and the scent of coffee drew her to the kitchen.

“Andrew, from now on, we are not doing sugar.”

“You should probably lay off the tequila instead.”

Jessie looked up and swore she saw Fisher sitting in her kitchen. The sun shone through the window at his back. “Fisher?” She put one hand on the wall to steady herself, the other on her pounding head, and closed her eyes. Breathe. God, now her eyes were playing tricks on her. Maybe she was still dreaming. After all, the man before her was dressed completely in cotton candy pink. Her Fisher never wore pink, well, not that she’d ever seen. When she opened her eyes again, he was still there, pink shorts and all. “Nice shorts.”

He stepped toward her. “It’s a long story. I was just about to bring you coffee.”

She reached out and touched his face, the stubble rough against her fingers. “You’re really here.” Her eyes sprang a major leak, and her hand trembled. She thought he nodded, but it was hard to tell through the flood in her eyes.

“A little birdie told me you had a bad case of writer’s block and still needed your research partner.”

A rush of blood roared through her ears. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. She covered her mouth and ran, slamming the bathroom door behind her, before making a two-pointer into the porcelain hoop.

She washed out her mouth and splashed her face. God, could she be any less attractive?

“Jessica, are you all right?”

She couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. She opened the door, peeked out, then shut the door again and leaned against it. He was still there looking worried.

“You should sip water. It will help.”

Nothing was going to help. Fisher was here in her house—okay, Andrew’s house—on the other side of a bathroom door, sounding as if he cared. Everything she had rehearsed to say to him flew out the proverbial window as soon as she laid eyes on him. She’d imagined so many make up scenarios, but none of them had involved puking.

“Jess, darlin’, open the door.”

She took a deep breath and turned the handle. She’d have to get through this. She’d apologize and hope for the best. If he never wanted to see her again, that would be fair. She looked into those green eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t think I could feel much worse after what I said to you when I left. I was cruel and mean, and well, I was scared ’cause I felt… Anyway, I didn’t mean it—any of it. I’m sorry.”

When Fisher didn’t say anything, she glanced up from wringing her hands. Fuck. She was becoming her mother.

He looked at her in the same way a doctor looks at patient when he has bad news. All concerned and seriously stone-faced. She did not want to hear Fisher’s bad news. She already knew what it was. He wasn’t taking her back. He didn’t love her anymore.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and went to the bedroom, opening her closet, and pulling out her bag. “I can’t stay here. Everywhere I go reminds me of you. I can’t go to the Albertsons. I can’t run. I can’t go to Humpin’ Hannah’s. I can’t even go into Starbucks. I told Steph I made a mistake taking the job. God, some blonde came through the drive-thru with your cup, and my eyes leaked. I just want to go home.”

“I think you’re right. You’ll feel better once we get you home.”

So much for him wanting her back. She wanted to curl up on the bed and just disappear.

“Sit down, and tell me what’s yours.”

“Just the clothes.” Jessie sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped her arms around herself and rocked, trying not to cry.

“Okay.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll take care of it. Do you want some tea and toast first?”

“I don’t have anything but fruit, and after last night, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another orange or lemon for a while.”

“That’s understandable.”

Fisher was even the perfect ex—just watching him fold her clothes hurt. Within a few minutes, everything was packed.

“I’ll go put these in the car, and we can go.” Fisher shouldered the bags. “You need to get some food into you.”

Jessie followed him down the hall and watched him carry her things out the front door. God, how was she supposed to drive away from him?

Her head pounded, and she went to the kitchen, needing to sit and get a grip before she dissolved into a puddle of tears. She grabbed the coffee Fisher had poured her and took a tentative sip, sat at the table, and flipped open Andrew’s binder to see what he was working on. Anything to stop thinking of Fisher packing her car for the long drive home. The title jumped out at her.
Call
Me
Wild
, by Jessie James. The lukewarm coffee she held slopped over her hand.

“Hey, be careful with that.” Fisher took the coffee from her and wiped up the spill. “That’s my only copy. You’re really a fabulous writer, darlin’, but there were a few inaccuracies.”

“You read it?”

“Every word.” He sat beside her and threw his arm around the back of her chair. “The story was riveting, but Seth wasn’t really a closet knitter.”

“No?”

“Maybe he was after Jenny dumped him, but he’d only taken a knitting class because he lost a bet with his brothers. You see, he’d been in kind of a funk, and they bet him he couldn’t pick up a woman on Ladies’ Night at Hannah’s. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t. He just wasn’t interested, and he was never the kind of guy who was only out to get laid. He lost the bet and found himself signed up for three beginning knitting classes.”

“That makes sense, knowing Seth’s brothers. Those guys will bet on anything.”

“Exactly.”

“And Seth had it bad for Jenny, well before his little sister tricked him into going to the cabin.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Jenny was beautiful. That first day when they ran into each other at Starbucks, he looked into her eyes and saw a woman who was so strong, so self-assured, but had no idea how amazing she was. She pushed him and challenged him and had him tied up in knots. He was so busy trying to catch her that he’d fallen in love without even realizing it. When he figured it out, it scared the hell out of him. You see, he’d never met a woman he could picture spending his life with.”

Fisher tore his eyes away, took a deep breath, and straightened his back, as if gathering his courage. “Jessica, I’d never met a woman I could picture spending my life with until I met you.”

“Yeah?” She turned to him and crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her biceps. “Then why did you pack my bags so I could go back to my parents’ on Long Island?”

“I packed your bags so you can go home. With me.”

“Your home? But Fisher, I don’t want this to be a temporary research thing. I want this to be a permanent gig.”

He stood and picked up her coffee cup. “Okay.”

She stood too, and tossed the napkin on the table. “Okay what? What is okay?”

“Okay, I’ll marry you. Call it research for your next book.” He tapped the top of the manuscript. “Darlin’, this one isn’t going to print.”

“What did you say?” She dropped her arms and stood nose to nose with him.

“I said,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “this book isn’t going to print.”

“No.” She pushed on his hard chest. “Before that.”

“The part about you coming home with me?”

“No.” She pushed him again. “After that.”

“Dammit, Jessica. Marry me.” He grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. “I can’t go through this again. I lost it when you left. My house went to shit. I’m surprised it wasn’t condemned by the health department. It got so bad Karma did my laundry. Now, everything that I owned that was white is pink. I puked on Trapper’s boots. Do you have any idea how much it cost to replace them? I knit three six-packs of beer cozies and a scarf long enough to hang myself with. And I’ll be damned if you’ll ever have another research partner. You got that? I don’t think I can take it.”

God, she loved it when he went all alpha on her. “I guess that explains the outfit, so okay.”

“Okay what?” Fisher looked like he was about to strangle her.

“Okay, I’ll marry you.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Fisher. Let’s go home.”

***

Fisher carried Jessica into his house and let out a breath as relief rushed through him. Andrew must still be upstairs. He carried Jessica back toward the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He kissed her and set her down on the bed and straightened. “I’ll get you something to eat. You just rest.”

She got on her knees and scooted toward him, tugging on his T-shirt. “I’m not hungry—for food.”

Fisher just about groaned. “Darlin’, we have a houseguest, and I wouldn’t put it past the whole family to show up. They have a sick sixth sense about these things.”

She kissed him hard and long, and when she slid her hands into his pink shorts, he’d forgotten what he was saying.

“Fisher? Do you love me?”

“God, yes.”

She kissed a path from one nipple to the other, and licked her way to his fly, and he swallowed hard. His shorts hit the floor.

“I want you so bad it scares me. I need you. Inside me. Now.”

Fisher was lost in a frenzy of rediscovery—her taste, her scent, the texture of her skin fascinated him. He licked and teased and played, until she begged for mercy. He floated on sighs of pleasure and passion, on nips of temptation, and the heady freedom to love Jess freely with nothing withheld.

Jess stared into his eyes, unflinching. When he entered her, it was if the last piece of his heart fell into place. They moved as one, and together they rode the crest and flew and shattered, holding tight to each other.

“I’m crushing you.” Fisher rolled off her and spooned his body around hers. Her long hair draped over his arm, his hand against her stomach.

Jessica’s snuggled closer, and he followed her into the first good sleep he’d had in days.

***

“I have a bad feeling about this, and I called Mom.” Karma stood on Fisher’s front lawn, crossed her arms, and looked at Hunter and Toni. “I’m not gonna take the fall for this one, Hunter. I’ve joined MA—Meddlers Anonymous. I think you should leave Fisher alone.” She shot Toni an I-can’t-believe-you-let-him-talk-you-into-this look.

Toni just shrugged and looked away as Hunter gave Karma his patented pesky-older-brother pout. “You always were a snitch. The neighbor called me because she was worried. She said there was a strange man here last night. We have to at least check it out.”

“What do you think? That Fisher’s batting for the other team?”

“He did swear off women that night at Hannah’s.”

“Get real. Maybe he just has a friend over from college or med school. You know, he does have a life.”

He headed toward the porch and threw that same look over his shoulder. She was tempted to kick him. She would have, if she didn’t know mom was on her way.

Trapper walked up beside her and rocked back on his heels. “Don’t even think about it, Karma.”

“I can think about all I want.” She put her hands on her hips, rolled her eyes, and stuck out her tongue just for good measure. “I just can’t do it. Hunter’s acting like an ass again, and he won’t listen to reason.”

“Hi, Toni.” Trapper kissed her on the cheek.

“I tried distracting him.” Toni fingered her studded collar. “But he was acting like a nervous nanny all night.”

Hunter shrugged. “I’m getting some pretty strong mixed signals. I don’t understand it. I’ve tried calling him, but he must have his phone off. It goes straight to voice mail.”

“Or maybe—” Karma pushed his chest. “He just doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m worried, Karma, Something big is happening, and I’m not in the loop.”

Brothers, you can’t train ’em, you can’t shoot ’em, but damn, she did love ’em. “Now, you know how Fisher’s felt ever since you and Toni got married. Something big happened, and he wasn’t in the loop either. It’s enough to throw off any twin’s game.”

“Yeah, well, his game moved to a whole other conference if you ask me.” He pointed to the mango-green Karmann Ghia convertible with California plates. “Do you know any straight man who would be caught dead in that?”

Maybe not in Boise. “Sure, I do. Anyone in LA. Not everyone needs a four-wheeler to feel like a real man.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” Hunter put his hands on his hips, his feet spread, doing his macho-man-of-the-mountain impression. “I still haven’t recovered from Fisher’s last stint in the psycho-city jail. I ruined a perfectly good pair of gloves cleaning up the disaster that losing Jessie created. And Steph at Starbucks said that Jessie’s quit and is moving back home, so I can guaran-ass-tee, it’s not her. Besides, she drives a red Mini Cooper.”

Trapper smiled. “I ended up getting two pairs of really nice boots out of the deal. Not bad for a few hours of work.”

Gramps’s White Lincoln pulled up to the curb, and Mom rushed out, followed closely by Gramps. “Who called this family meeting?”

Karma and Trapper pointed to Hunter. Karma stepped up and gave her mom a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve been trying to talk him out of it.”

Mom gave her a sideways glance. “No, you just don’t want to get blamed for it.”

“Hi, Mom.” Trapper tipped his cowboy hat back and leaned in for a kiss. “Who else is coming?”

“Ben and Gina are on their way.”

Karma sidled over to Gramps. “What’s this I hear about Jessie moving home?” she whispered behind her hand.

Grampa winked. “Don’t you worry, girly. I’ve got it all under control.”

Ben and Gina walked hand-in-hand across the lawn, Gina’s five-inch spikes sinking into the grass.