“No.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I have my license,” she said a little defensively. “I made sure to get that when I was eighteen.”
“I’m sure you did.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re a thorough woman, Emma. You like to cover all your bases. You probably studied hard for your test, passed it with flying colors, and keep your license renewed even though you don’t drive.”
“Yes,” she said, not liking how amused he sounded. “I don’t see why that’s funny. It doesn’t hurt to be careful, to be organized and on top of things.”
“Thing is, Emma, as you pointed out, life isn’t easy. And it’s sure as hell not black and white. Being on top of things doesn’t always count. Your father would be the first to tell you that.”
Well if that didn’t make her feel even more defensive. “My father isn’t big on telling me anything.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“He’s trying to fix his by having me out here. I know that.” She thought of her mom, and more than physical pain stabbed through her. “I just don’t think that he gets that it’s not the right way, not for me. I don’t want to resent being here, but…”
“But you do. You’re tired of treating the flu, and wayward cats. Who, by the way,” he added with a smile, “gave birth to four adorable, wayward kittens last night. Annie named the first one Emma. She has your eyes.”
She snorted and put her head back against the headrest, casually setting her hands on her aching ribs for support. “That’s nice.”
His gaze cut to her hands, though he didn’t say a word about her ribs. “But you still don’t want to be here.”
“I can’t seem to help it. Being here reminds me of my mom.” She hated that her voice cracked.
“You miss her,” he said very softly, taking his gaze off the road for a beat, offering her the sympathy that tripled her pain.
It took her a minute to speak. “So much.”
Reaching out, he squeezed her hand, and she cleared her throat. “I just want to go back to my world,” she told him. “Where I’m in control. My mom liked to be in control. I guess I got that from her.”
“How’s your stepfather taking it?”
She shrugged, which shot pain through her. Note to self: stop moving. “He left on a world cruise after the funeral. He needed to get away. It must be working because he hasn’t been back.”
“So you’ve been by yourself?”
“I’m a big girl, you know,” she said wryly. “I’ve lived on my own from the day I went off to college.”
“Sure, but it’s nice to have family around. You’ve been without.”
“I manage to keep busy enough.”
“That’s not what I mean. Everyone needs a support system, Emma. People they can count on.”
“I have friends.”
“Spencer.”
Again their gazes met as he pulled into the Urgent Care’s lot. “Yes,” she agreed. “Spencer. And others.”
Stone turned off the truck, handed her the keys, then surprised her by getting out into the rain with her. She started to run through the downpour to the building, but the small movement sent fire along her torso and slowed her down. When she came to a stop on the top step, she pressed her hands to her chest as spots swam in her vision. Dammit.
With a low oath, he took her keys from her hands. “Easy,” he murmured, and unlocking the door for her, very gently nudged her inside.
They entered the reception area together, dripping water all over the floor as she realized he was now stuck here without a way home, which showed her just how little she’d been thinking in the past half hour. “I’m sorry. I’ll drive you—”
“I’ll call TJ for a ride.” But instead of doing that, he came at her. “In a minute.”
He was big and tall and wet, and not looking nearly as laid-back and easygoing as she was used to as he reached behind her and locked them in.
“What—”
“Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her down the hall to the first examination room, nudging her up against one of the tables. “Let’s see,” he murmured. “How did you get started with me? Oh, yeah.” He smiled grimly. “Strip.”
Chapter 17
Emma let out a laugh that sounded jittery and nervous to her own ears, but that was bound to happen when a gorgeous, wet guy looked at her from amazing green eyes and murmured “strip.” “Okay,” she said, lifting a hand. “I can appreciate both the irony and your sense of humor on this but this is really completely different from when you were hurt.”
“No, it’s not.” Clearly knowing his way around, he opened the drawer and pulled out a cotton gown, dangling it from his fingers.
She laughed, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not going to play doctor with you.”
“Ah, come on.” He waggled a brow. “I’ll let you hold the stethoscope. It’ll be fun.”
“You know, it just occurred to me to wonder why you’re not married or at least taken. But I think I’m getting why.”
He laughed. “Hey, I’ve been occasionally taken. It’s just that nothing’s stuck.” He set his hands on the jacket he’d put on her, spreading it open.