Going for Four: Counting on Love, Book 4 (36 page)

He grinned. Then frowned. “Hey. You’re gonna have one hundred percent of me, girl,” he growled playfully, pushing her off his lap and starting to stand.

But the pain in his leg grabbed him, and he slumped back into his chair with a groan.

She stood watching him, shaking her head. “What were you saying about one hundred percent?”

He looked her up and down. Then he grabbed her hand and hauled himself to his feet. With as much sincerity as he could manage while gritting his teeth in pain, he said, “I
am
one hundred percent your match.”

She put her hand against his cheek and gave him a smile full of love and promise. “No, you’re not, sweetie.”

“But—”

But he wasn’t.

“Okay, fine. But I am perfect for you.”

“
That
you are.” She smiled up at him. Then she blinked. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you about the tiramisu.”

“Tiramisu?”

“I thought it could be the first dessert we make together as an engaged couple. It goes with your romantic theme, and since I got my favorite, I figured it was only fair for you to have yours.”

He grinned. “Tiramisu is always a good idea.”

“Okay.” She started walking backward toward the door. “So, I got the custard and the rum.”

He started after her, but his leg protested. He gave in and grabbed the crutches they’d propped at the end of his bed when he’d said “fuck no” to learning how to use them. Now he hobbled toward the door.

“And we have the coffee and whipped cream at home,” she said, stepping out into the hall.

He followed. “And ladyfingers?”

“Ladyfingers?”

“You didn’t get ladyfingers? They’re kind of a big part of the recipe.”

She kept backing down the hall. “Darn, I didn’t get any. Gee, I wonder what we could put all this stuff on instead of ladyfingers.”

Cody paused and her mischievous grin confirmed that she was thinking exactly what he was thinking. He started hobbling faster.

“Hey.” Nate tried to stop him, but Cody kept going. “How are you feeling?”

“One hundred percent, Doc,” Cody said, flashing Nate a grin as he headed for the exit. “Absolutely one hundred percent.”

Cody’s Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookies

Special thanks to Joann Berggren, Donna Neels Harris,
Laura Gamble and Stephanie Staton for contributions to this recipe

1 cup butter, softened

½ cup butter flavored shortening

¾ cup sugar

1 ¾ cups packed brown sugar

1 ½ tsp instant coffee granules

3 large eggs

1 tsp vanilla

3 2/3 cups flour

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

1 (12 ounce) package semisweet chocolate chips

½ (6 ounce) package milk chocolate chips

1 (8 ounce) package toffee bits

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Mix butter and shortening until creamy. Add sugars and beat until fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add coffee granules and vanilla and continue to mix.

In a small bowl, combine flour, baking soda and salt. Gradually add flour mixture to creamed mixture, beating until well blended. Stir in the chocolate chips and toffee bits. Scoop ¼ cup amounts onto a cookie sheet about 3 inches apart. Bake for 7-10 minutes or until lightly browned. Let cool for 2 minutes before removing to a cooling rack.

About the Author

Erin Nicholas is the author of sexy contemporary romances. Her stories have been described as toe-curling, enchanting, steamy and fun. She loves to write about reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines and happily ever afters. She lives in the Midwest with her husband, who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books; her kids, who will never read the sex scenes in her books; and family and friends, who say they’re shocked by the sex scenes in her books (yeah, right!).

You can find Erin on the Web at
www.ErinNicholas.com
,
ninenaughtynovelists.blogspot.com
, on Twitter (
www.twitter.com/ErinNicholas
) and even on Facebook (
www.facebook.com/erin.nicholas.90
).

Look for these titles by Erin Nicholas

Now Available:

The Bradfords

Just Right

Just Like That

Just My Type

Just the Way I Like It

Just for Fun

Just a Kiss

Just What I Need: The Epilogue

Anything & Everything

Anything You Want

Everything You’ve Got

Counting On Love

She’s the One

It Takes Two

Best of Three

No Matter What

Hotblooded

Coming Soon:

Counting on Love

Up by Five

Sometimes it takes a couple of tries before you get love right.

Best of Three

© 2013 Erin Nicholas

Counting on Love, Book 3

Emma Dixon is known for getting in over her head—and having a great time doing it. She’s aware her shenanigans rub Nate Sullivan the wrong way, but getting a rise out of the cocky surgeon is one of her favorite pastimes. Truth be told, exasperated looks aren’t the only things she wants from the guy.

Nate has no intention of taking another trip down the falling-in-love road. Women are carefully compartmentalized—to his bedroom. Women who don’t mind his take-charge tendencies. Women very different from sassy, sexy, independent Emma.

But his usual strategy of arguing with Emma to keep from kissing her goes out the window when his son falls in love with her friend’s daughter. Emma sees a normal teenage romance. Nate sees his plans for the boy’s future ruined.

As Nate tries to derail the relationship, Emma runs interference, putting herself directly in the path of the chemistry that grows stronger every time they butt heads. And that could very well lead to the best surprise of all.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Best of Three:

He turned her so her belly was against the railing and caged her in by placing his hands on the railing on either side of her. “Look for Michael and Shannon.”

They stood like that, not moving, scanning the crowd for a few minutes. Eventually, she shifted off of her right leg, leaning onto her left.

He resisted the urge to put his hand on her hip, to rub it or…something. “You’re that sore?”

“Stiff.”

He barely heard her over the music and crowd. He put his mouth close to her ear. “What were you doing this morning that hurt it?”

She turned her face so her mouth was closer to his. “Trying some advanced yoga poses.”

“You need to be careful not to push too fast.” He had no problem with yoga. Emma’s physical condition prior to the accident and surgery had given her the potential for full recovery. But some things simply took time.

“I’d be happy to show you what I was trying and you can tell me if it’s too much.”

There was something in her voice, even with the music thumping and the crowd noise rumbling around them that made his body react. He was sure Emma demonstrating
any
yoga poses would be too much—of something.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Chicken.”

Very likely.

They didn’t try to talk for a couple of minutes. Then he felt compelled to say, “It’s normal, you know. To still be stiff and sore at times. And you’re trying high level stuff.” It was normal. And it was good for him to remember that too. He hadn’t failed her. He’d put her back together and had done a hell of a job. She was healing. She was getting better. She was going to be fine.

He saw dozens of people every week in her same—and worse—condition. Their lingering aches and pains never bothered him.

But it bugged the hell out of him to think of Emma hurting.

“I know that, Nate.” She sounded frustrated. “That doesn’t make it not hurt. You say that to me all the time, and I’ll bet you say it fifty times a day to other people. And then you don’t see us for six weeks and by then it
is
better and you feel all great about yourself and what you did. But living with it day to day is different. So…shut up, okay?”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She was right, of course. So he did shut up.

They stood facing the stage and the floor below them. He was aware of every inch of her. Especially when she shifted again, this time to lean back against him slightly. He knew she might not even be aware of it. She was seeking a position that would take weight off her sore leg and leaning against a support would help with that. But the position, thanks to her heels, put her butt right against his fly.

He held his breath and tried to ignore it, making his mind focus on searching the crowd for his son.

Then she wiggled.

Whether she meant to or not, he couldn’t handle that. He put his hands on her hips to stop her squirming and moved her an inch forward. That was all he needed. An inch of space between their bodies.

He felt the tension in her body immediately and assumed that meant she either hadn’t intended the position to be what it was, or his hands made her stiffen up. Which could be good or bad.

After several seconds, he started to relax. But right when he thought maybe he was safe and again began his search for his son, Emma turned.

His hands skimmed over her body as she spun, and when she faced him, he wasn’t inclined to remove them.

“You want to make both of us feel better?” she asked.

He could hear her, but he didn’t want to miss anything. He put his hand to the back of her head, holding her still, and leaned in. “Tell me.”

She lifted onto her toes, her mouth right against his ear. “We try some of the high level things I want to do…together. Then you can see that it
is
actually hard for me and get off my ass about it…or you show me that it’s fine and alleviate my fears and then I’ll listen to all your instructions from here on out.”

He worked on simply breathing. He wanted to press her more firmly against the railing and test some of her hip range of motion right here and now. And he couldn’t deny that the idea of her listening to all his instructions from here on out was really fucking tempting. “I’m guessing we’re not talking about jogging now.”

“I hate jogging.”

“I don’t know much about yoga.”

“Then we’ll stay away from the yoga.”

He pulled back to look down at her. Dammit. He couldn’t sleep with her, but there were so many reasons that he wanted to and with her standing so close, the dark and the music and her scent and her lips right there…the reasons why it was a bad idea were fuzzy.

Nate didn’t do fuzzy. A woman who muddled his brain and distracted him so easily was the last person he should—and would—get involved with.

He liked to be in control in his relationships.

It came from a history of a controlling son-of-a-bitch grandfather and two women who had made choices, without his input, that had changed his life profoundly.

He was never going to be in a position again where someone else made decisions that affected his life and his loved ones.

Staring at Emma now, he shook his head. It was ironic, but he loved strong, independent women and knew that none of the women he was attracted to would put up with his chauvinistic, controlling tendencies in a full-blown relationship. Therefore, he kept women specifically compartmentalized to the bedroom. There they didn’t seem to mind him being demanding.

Bringing Emma into his bedroom seemed inevitable. But he knew Emma Dixon would not
stay
compartmentalized. Keeping Emma to one part of his life would be like telling a tornado to only tear apart a room instead of taking the whole house. It would never work and he’d be left with a big mess to clean up afterward.

“You’re thinking about it too hard,” Emma told him.

She gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss.

The moment their lips met, as heat and desire and need swirled in him, Nate knew the tornado comparison was exactly right. And that it was futile to try to resist its force.

Nate had been fighting this for months. There had been opportunities before this. He could have had her before this; he knew that. But he’d fought it. Fought against his natural instincts. Fought against his body clamoring for hers whenever she was within a few feet of him. Fought because her brother, his teammate and a damned good guy, would want to kick his ass. Fought because there was no way they could make this more than a night. Or two. Maybe a long weekend.