Best of Three (Counting on Love) (28 page)

She knew that smile. He really did love being in control.

“That’s it?” she asked. “I gave up chicken quesadillas for this?”

Nate chuckled and headed back toward his desk. “Honey, I dare you to find chicken quesadillas that can make you feel like
that
.”

She sighed and straightened her clothes. “Well, no, not without
a lot
of guacamole.”

There was a knock at the door.

He gave Emma a wink and called, “Yes?”

“Your next patient is in room three, Dr. Sullivan.”

He shrugged into his long white coat and Emma couldn’t help but feel a little flip in her stomach. He looked so good as the in-charge doctor.

“You called me down here and started all of this, knowing that you had a patient waiting?”

“It’s Mrs. Murse. She’s always early.”

He’d slipped her into his day. Emma decided to feel good that he couldn’t go any longer without seeing her rather than offended that he’d penciled her in for fifteen minutes between patients.

She turned the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m going to have quesadillas with guacamole now.”

He laughed. “Enjoy.”

She pushed the door open partway. “And I’m going to eat them naked.”

That made him pause. “Oh.”

“And if you were there, I’d show you just how much I like guacamole. On
everything
.”

He coughed. “Emma—”

She gave him one of his own sly smiles. “Too bad you have patients waiting.” Then stepped through the door and started down the hall.

But not before she heard him groan.

Maybe that would teach him not to call her down here in the middle of the day for a not-quite-a-quickie.

Though she kind of hoped it wouldn’t.

Emma stomped up the steps to Dena’s front door and let herself into the duplex she considered her second home. She needed to talk to Dena—the least judgmental person Emma knew. “Dena! I need some cookies!”

She knew that Olivia had been teaching Dena to bake. Olivia wasn’t home tonight—she was helping her buddy Cody shop for new ties or something—which meant Dena better know how to make Olivia’s Double Chocolate Chewy Whatever cookies. Emma didn’t know the official name. She just knew that they were the best damned thing she’d ever tasted.

And that included the chocolate cake with raspberry sauce from the other night.

Her whole body shivered with the memory of that cake. The only thing even close to being as delicious as Nate’s cock with that cake smeared on it was the Whatever cookies.

She needed some of them. Now.

Because she couldn’t afford any more of that chocolate cake, Nate’s cock was with him in Chicago at the moment, and she needed to stay far away from his cock anyway.

“Dena!” she hollered.

Her friend came down the stairs, her cell phone pressed to her ear. “That’s fine, honey. I’ll see you in the morning.” She disconnected her call. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Nate.

No question about it.

She missed him. How had
that
happened? The out-of-this-world sex thing was, of course, part of it. She was thinking she might miss that for the rest of her life. But she also missed him beyond that. She missed him making her roll her eyes, missed him bossing her and then sighing resignedly when it didn’t work, missed him making her laugh, missed making him laugh.

The I-need-more sex she could handle. The rest was making her crazy.

The noon-time hook-up in his office had been enough to make her addicted.

Then there was the late night phone call the next night where he’d talked her through another do-it-herself kind of orgasm and him showing up at her yoga studio after hours two nights later and making her go through a whole yoga routine while he sat and watched. Even the watching had made her hot. Amazingly, her hip hadn’t hurt at all as she moved through the more advanced poses. Then they’d had sex right on her favorite yoga mat. The one she used for teaching all of her classes. She could barely get any work done now she was so distracted.

Then he’d left for Chicago for some medical blah, blah, blah conference for a week and she hadn’t seen him since.

“I need you to make me cookies and then you and Shannon and I are going to watch movies all night.” She was going to ignore her phone. Because she was equally distracted whether he called or not.

“I’m all for cookies and movies,” Dena said. “But Shannon’s out tonight.”

“How late?” Emma asked, tossing her purse on the couch and kicking her shoes off.

“All night.” Dena gave her a smile. “Since Michael’s dad’s out of town, they decided to go camping with Ashley and Carrie and their boyfriends and some other people.”

Emma frowned. “Some other people? Who?”

Dena shrugged. “I don’t know. Some kids Ashley and Carrie know.”

“From college?”

“Probably.”

Emma stared at her friend, amazed that Dena didn’t seem the least bit concerned. “They’re camping. With a bunch of older friends. Most of whom you don’t know.
Because
Nate’s out of town?”

“That way he won’t bother them.”

But when he “bothered” them, he kept them safe.

The thought came out of the blue and hit her hard.

After running interference over the past couple of weeks, Emma was acutely aware that, while he acted crazy a lot of the time, Nate was coming from a very sincere and understandable place. He loved Michael. He wanted to protect his son. He’d never really had to worry or come down on Michael before Shannon showed up. He’d parented Michael but it hadn’t been complicated or difficult like it was now.

So he was overreacting most of the time. Was it better to be too protective rather than too trusting?

When the kids were barely eighteen—and having sex and drinking and staying out late with older kids known to be bad influences—yes.

Maybe it was because he was out of town that she was so aware of the way he would have reacted to this. Maybe it was that she thought he was a damned good father and she wished Shannon had had a little more of Nate’s brand of parenting. Maybe it was that Emma
had
been given a taste of Nate’s brand of parenting. Her brother and her older sister Amanda would have both followed her into a party and pulled her out if needed. Dena herself had pulled Emma out of a couple of sticky spots. She’d been far more relaxed in her approach to Shannon and her escapades for some reason. And Emma had tried to stay out of it as much as she could. Shannon wasn’t her kid.

But everyone deserved to have at least one person in their life who was willing to go over the top for them.

And while it might piss her off, Shannon needed to know that she had someone that was committed to keeping her safe no matter what.

Maybe Nate was rubbing off on her, but Emma felt confident that it was a good thing. She’d rather be like Nate and have the kids frustrated but alive and well, than have the kids think she was cool…and get hurt.

Emma had always been aware that Shannon and her friends did stupid things sometimes. All teenagers did. But she hadn’t realized how nice it was to have someone concerned about it—and willing to jump in.

Emma put a hand on her hip. “And you’re cool with this?” Of course Dena was cool with this.

“Sure. They’re going to do a bonfire and some skinny dipping.” Dena smiled. “Kid stuff. They’re having fun.”

“Dena…” Emma trailed off. She’d never questioned Dena’s parenting before. Well, not out loud. She’d simply always been there to pick up pieces and clean up. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Dena looked surprised. “It’s nothing you haven’t done before.”

Emma couldn’t argue with that. That, however, did not make it a good idea. “So, I know what I’m talking about. And so do you. Bonfire? Camping? You know they’re going to be drinking. Do you honestly think drinking and fire and swimming all go together?” Geez, she sounded like Nate. But she couldn’t stop.

Dena frowned. “It’s kid stuff,” she repeated. “Shannon’s a smart girl.”

“Who’s in love and having the best summer of her life and is no way going to say something to ruin either of those things.” Michael was a good kid too. Beyond intelligent. But Emma knew too well how easy it was to go along with bad ideas when she was in a big group, having fun and the adrenaline was flowing. Not to mention the alcohol.

And Nate wasn’t there to step in or curb it. He wasn’t there to go storming out there and break the party up. That meant someone else would have to do it.

“You didn’t care about the party at Heather’s,” Dena pointed out. “Why do you care about this one?”

Emma opened her mouth, then shut it. That was a good question. The party the other night had seemed like a harmless, normal teenage thing to do. Tonight didn’t.

But the party the other night had occurred before she spent so much time with Nate.

He’d shown her a really attractive side to being protective and bossy. Being bossy with his son was different, of course, but being on the receiving end of Nate’s attention was an intense, and strangely comforting, place to be. She knew Michael felt it—deep down if he really thought about it. And she wanted Shannon to also feel the security that came with someone caring about her every move.

There were a dozen bad things that could have happened the other night at the party Shannon and Michael had been at. There were at least that many things that could go wrong tonight.

And two weeks ago she would have laughed her ass off if anyone had told her she would ever be seeing things from Nate’s perspective.

“So I should tell her no,” Dena said, clearly not a huge fan of that idea.

“Yes,” Emma said. “But I’m not sure that will do a lot of good.” Shannon was, as she’d pointed out to Nate numerous times, eighteen.

Dammit.

“What do I do?” Dena asked.

That was a great question. But there was no way Emma was going to be able to enjoy her cookies and sit back and watch a movie while she was worrying that Shannon would have a couple of wine coolers and jump in too deep and drown.

She sighed. “Do you know where they’re camping?”

Dena nodded. “I know how to get there, roughly.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s someone’s uncle’s place or something.”

“It’s private land?”

“Yeah.”

That could make things better or worse. Better if the owners knew they were there and even if they were in attendance. If it was an organized party and the hosts knew the waters, it would be safer. But if it was a teenage hey-I-know-a-place-we-can-go type party, then it could be worse. If the land owners didn’t know about the party and found out, they could call the cops and turn the kids in for trespassing.

In which case having Shannon and Michael be eighteen—and no longer minors—would mean a bigger penalty.

Emma grabbed her phone. “Did the owners invite the kids over?”

Dena shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Emma dialed Shannon’s number, but it went to voice mail. Of course.

“Come on,” she told Dena. “Looks like we’re going camping too.”

Forty-five minutes later, they bumped down a winding dirt road leading out to what appeared to be nothing more than a cow pasture. They were well outside the city limits and it was getting dark. Emma hoped this was right.

Dena braced her hands on the dashboard as they hit yet another huge pothole. “At least give me credit for finding out where they were going to be,” she said.

Emma rolled her eyes but said, “Yes, at least you did that.”

They came over a small rise and saw the flames of a huge bonfire in the distance. Emma killed the headlights, grateful there was still enough sun to see the general direction they were headed in. Not that being on the road was doing them a lot of good. The pasture itself couldn’t have been more rough and bumpy.

“There they are.” She slowed down and rolled up slowly, then pulled off the path when they could see the kids and cars, but were far enough back to not be noticed themselves.

“What are we going to do?”

“Get up closer and see what’s going on.”

“And hang out? Jump in to save them if someone starts to drown?” Dena asked.

“Yes. And you’re going in first,” Emma told her.

“You were a lifeguard too,” Dena said.

“But I’m not the one that thought this party was an okay idea,” Emma retorted. “And I do heavily chlorinated water,
not
river water.”

They got out and walked up on the campsite, careful to stay in the shadows. Several cars and pickups were parked around the perimeter of the fire pit and they were able to use those as cover.

“Do you see them?” Emma whispered to Dena.

“There.” Dena pointed.

Shannon and Michael were on the side of the fire closest to where Emma and Dena were. They were dancing to the music that was booming from one of the truck radios. Shannon wore flip-flops, denim shorts and a green bikini top, her hair fell past her shoulder blades, loose and wavy as if it had been wet and had dried in the summer air. She looked happy and young and uninhibited.