Wild with You Page 14

  “I asked her not to tell you,” Josh added. “I still feel like I can’t quite trust it. You know, like did I get a very special wake-­up call from Megan or was that my imagination?”

  “Joke all you want,” Brody said, closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around his little brother. “I’m just so fucking relieved that Kat’s treatment is working.”

  “I’m not sure that is the reason,” Josh said as Brody released him and stepped back. Suddenly starting his day in a room full of strippers—­with the only woman he wanted to see naked—­didn’t seem quite so bad. And so what if he’d spent the remaining hours of daylight in a ditch trying to fix a truck that belonged in the junkyard? The end was looking pretty damn good.

  “I think my memory was coming back before she arrived. Doc said it could happen at any time. I didn’t trust it, so it really freaked me out. And probably contributed to my depression.”

  Brody frowned. “Is Kat kicking you out of the trial?”

  “She doesn’t know for sure yet. We talked about it on the drive back today. She hasn’t heard from the lead doctor, but it doesn’t sound good. I can keep taking the antidepressant. And she had a few other ideas.” Josh hesitated. “But she’ll probably be leaving soon. I’m sorry, Brody.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll talk to her.” He clapped Josh on the arm, the relief still pulsing through him. “And we’re here for you. Don’t forget that. For as long as it takes. Now go, see Megan.”

  Josh disappeared into the darkness, the door slamming shut behind him. Brody ran his hands over his face, the relief still seeping in. Tomorrow he could talk to Josh about the long-­term. He’d call a family meeting and they’d figure it out together. Right after he met the tow truck to haul the broken-­down semi off the side of the logging road. Plus, he needed to sit down with Kat to find out if his brother was officially out of the trial.

  And somewhere in there, he should probably tell her that he was falling in love with her. Somewhere between keeping the trucking side of Moore Timber running, taking every search and rescue mission that came his way, and looking out for his family, he needed to ask Kat to stay. Because any way he looked at their relationship, she was his.

  His hand on the banister, one foot on the bottom stair, Brody closed his eyes. Maybe he should go up there and have that conversation right now, before they landed back in his bed. It was the right thing to do. Kat deserved to know that he wanted something lasting with her. Settling for less felt plain wrong.

  And it would break his heart.

  At the top of the stairs he headed for his door. His day, the crazy rush to find his brother, the call to help with the truck, the knowledge that Josh was getting better, it all faded away as he turned the knob. The need to see Kat, to hold her, rose to the surface.

  Stepping into the bedroom he’d lived in for the past thirty-­some years, he spotted her on his bed. His gaze ran up her long bare legs to the slip of black lace covering the part of her body he wanted to worship until sunrise, over her belly to her chest. Matching lace cups covered her breasts. In one hand she held a magazine, the pages folded back to reveal a picture of a brain. Her gaze met his and her entire face lit up with an intoxicating mix of need and excitement.

  Lying there, waiting for him, she took his fucking breath away. His Little Miss Perfect.

  “Some light reading?” he asked.

  “Neurology Today.” She set the magazine on the nightstand and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. “They published my article on new ways to treat athletes suffering from multiple concussions.”

  “Let me guess, baking?”

  She laughed. “That’s part of it.”

  “I hear it works. One of your patients just told me his memory is coming back.”

  “Josh did? Good. I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything.”

  Brody shook his head. “Don’t be. He was your patient. Not me.”

  “I’m glad we’re clear on that,” she murmured, rising from the bed. “I had plans for tonight that would be highly inappropriate if I was treating you.”

  She closed the space between them and rose up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss over his lips. “How was your day, Brody?”

  “I woke up missing you in my bed.” He held onto her hips, needing to keep her close. “Once I got you back, I had to leave you in a strip club. But then I came home, learned my brother was going to be OK. And then I found you here. In my bed.”

  “Sounds like a roller-­coaster. Lots of ups and downs. Maybe I should help you relax.” She placed a hand on his chest, pressing him back. “Are you ready for your private dance? Your brother took his time finishing his breakfast at the club. While I waited, I watched the dancers.”

  “Oh?” They hadn’t captured his attention. But the thought of Kat watching them . . . oh yeah, he liked that mental picture. But then the thought of Kat doing just about anything would probably turn him on. “Did you like what you saw?”

  Her hands moved to his biceps, guiding him back until his calves hit the chair. “I learned a few moves.”

  “I don’t give a damn about their moves,” he growled, his need rising. Two nights without her in his bed and he was damn near dying to have her. “I want you.”

  Desire flared in her green eyes. “Sit, Brody.”

  He obeyed, drawing her down with him. His hands ran up her thighs as she straddled his lap. “I need to touch you,” he said.

  “It’s against the rules. The bouncers were clear on that. Some guy tried to pull one of the dancer’s panties off while she was lying across his table and—­”

  “I’m not some guy, Kat.” He palmed her perfect ass, his fingers running over the thin strip of her thong underwear. “I’m yours.”

  She began to move over him, her hips grinding against his lap. “I’ll let the rules slide. This time. On one condition.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Leaning forward, her breasts pressed against his chest, her lips touched his ear. “Close your eyes and tell me about your fantasy lap dance.”

  “Easy.”

  He captured her mouth, kissing her deeply. Keeping his eyes closed, he broke away as his hands moved up her back to the clasp of her bra. He undid the series of hooks, felt his way to her shoulders and guided the straps down. The bra fell to his lap as he cupped her breasts.

  “You,” he said, opening his eyes. “You’re my fantasy.”

  And so much more.

  “You have me.” Kat’s hands pulled at his T-­shirt, freeing it from his pants.

  His thumbs brushed her nipples. “Good, because I can’t let you go.”

  “Hmm, please don’t.”

  Brody’s hands froze. He needed to tell her now. This was so much more than foreplay. “Kat—­”

  “Lean forward,” she ordered, her movements frantic as she drew his shirt over his head. She placed a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back, and reached for his belt.

  He had so much to say, but feeling her fingers against his lower abdomen, unbuttoning his pants, drawing the zipper down . . . She brushed his dick, and his mind zeroed in on one thought.

  Take me.

  “The dancers at The Lost Kitten, did they strip off their customers’ clothes?” he asked.

  “No. I’m improving on their model.” She shifted off his lap. Standing between his splayed legs, she reached for his waistband. “Lift your hips.”

  He did as she asked, his pants and underwear joining his shirt in a pile on the floor. Her gaze lingered on his erection for a second before she looked up.

  “Don’t move, Brody.”

  Swaying her hips to an imaginary beat, she began to dance. Her fingers toyed with her thong. Slowly, she slid the slip of black lace down her legs and kicked them to the side.

  “If you find those later, you can keep them,” she said. “A
s a souvenir.”

  “I don’t want your underwear, Kat. I want you.” His fingers dug into the arms of the chair. “And I’m going to want you tomorrow and the day after that.”

  “Brody,” she gasped, running her hands up her naked body, cupping her breasts as she continued to move.

  “I want you, Kat.” He would never stop saying those words to her. Over and over, he’d make damn sure she opened her eyes every morning feeling wanted—­a part of his life and his family.

  Releasing her breasts, she placed her hands on his shoulders and reclaimed his lap. She was wet and hot against his cock and he nearly forgot the words he needed to say before he sank into her.

  His hands moved to her hips, holding her still.

  “Brody?” She raised an eyebrow, the heat and need in her eyes matching his. He hoped. God, he hoped she felt the same way.

  “You deserve so much more, Kat.”

  She slipped her hand between them, reaching for him. “I’m not sure I could handle any more.”

  The humor in her tone was like a warning. And a signal that she’d raised her defenses.

  “Kat, I need you to listen to me.” He kept his gaze locked with hers, watching as wariness displaced desire.

  “I thought we agreed to abandon the serious sex,” she murmured.

  “That’s not what I’m asking for. I want to be wild with you, Kat. But you should know where this is going, how I feel about you.”

  “Is this about the lap dance? Is this your way of regaining the upper hand? If you want control, take it, Brody. Take me.”

  “This is not just sex,” he said. “Not for me. Maybe it started out that way, and heck, I thought I was stretched too thin to add a relationship to my life right now, so I held onto that thought. But I fell for you.”

  He felt her pulling away, her hands pressing against his chest as her feet scrambled to find the floor. But he couldn’t hold back the words.

  “Kat, I’m falling in love with you.”

  Chapter 18

  IN HER MIND, the difference between loneliness and love spanned the continental United States. It was like the distinction between New York and Oregon. And right now she didn’t want either one. She wanted to make an emergency landing in North Dakota and wait out the storm.

  Crossing her arms in front of her bare chest, Kat backed away. How had they gone from “I’ll brighten your day with a lap dance” to “I’m falling in love with you”? They’d known each other a week. OK, maybe she’d lusted after him for years. But that didn’t mean she knew him.

  “This was insane.” She glanced around the room, searching for her clothes. She found her underwear and slipped them on, followed by her bra and the shirt she’d folded beside his bed. “And you had to tell me now?”

  “I know what I feel Kat,” Brody said, following her lead and pulling on the clothes she’d stripped off him. “And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you feel unwanted and unworthy of love for another day when that is exactly what I feel for you.”

  “You can’t,” she said, the words falling out in spite of the panic cartwheeling through her. “In less than a week?”

  Wearing only his jeans, he put his hands on his hips. “I can’t love a woman who offers support? Who listens to me? And who drives me crazy with desire?”

  “I’m not the only woman in the world willing to experiment with kinky fantasies,” she shot back.

  “No,” he said evenly, his gaze locked with hers. “But you’re the only one I want to tie up. The only one I want in my bed covered in whip cream. The only one—­”

  “You don’t know enough about me to love me,” she snapped, the panic like a tornado now, threatening to envelop her. “What is my favorite color? My favorite food? What kind of movies do I like to watch? And there is so much I don’t know about you.”

  “I don’t give a damn about colors. I like a good burger and the occasional steak. I prefer action flicks, but I’ll watch just about anything. I’ve seen Cinderella nearly a hundred times because that was Katie’s favorite when she was little. I’d be happy if I never saw another Disney princess movie again,” he said, the words coming out hot and fast. “How does knowing any of that help?”

  “It matters,” she said.

  His brown eyes stared at her, dark and possessive. She’d seen a glimmer of she’s mine in his gaze before, and she should have heeded the warning. She should have left before they’d landed here.

  “It matters,” she continued, her voice rising with each word, “because I think about the number of ­people who know those things about me, and I come up with a big fat zero.”

  Kat shook her head. She’d imagined tonight would lead to raised voices, possibly screaming. But not like this.

  His hands fell to his sides. “Look Kat, I don’t want to fight with you. But I needed to tell you how I feel. I love you, Kat. I don’t care if your favorite color is fuchsia or if you saw Frozen a dozen times in the theater. I’d like to learn your favorite things, but knowing won’t change how I feel about you. I don’t know what that means for the future, for us, but—­”

  “You told me because you think I’m leaving,” she said, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “Now that Josh has regained his memory, I’ll be heading back to the East Coast.”

  He cocked his head to one side, studying her. “Aren’t you?”

  She nodded. Her work was in New York. Brianna was there, waiting for her to provide a forever home. The life she’d built for herself—­it was all there.

  “I had to say something before I took you back to my bed,” he said. “It was the right thing to do.”

  The truth crystallized in her mind. Brody Summers wanted to do the right thing. He never strayed from that path. And that meant giving her what he thought she needed.

  But she’d lived most of her life without love, without anyone wanting her beyond her academic and professional life. And she wasn’t about to risk her heart, to open herself to the rejection that would come when their week-­long fling fell apart. Because it would hurt ten times as much as the family who hadn’t wanted to keep her as a child when Brody told her loved her but couldn’t be with her. And that day would come.

  But not if she got out first. Not if she left the burning fear that had eclipsed every other emotion—­desire, wanting, joy—­carry her away from here.

  “Doing the right thing just cost you a lap dance,” she said, turning to the door.

  “I didn’t fall for the fantasy, Kat,” he said. “I fell for you.”

  Those words planted a kernel of hope. She wanted to believe him. But in just one week? If it was that easy, if it only took a week to learn to love her, why hadn’t it happened before?

  Because you run. You started running as a teenager, leaving the families before they gave you up. And you haven’t stopped.

  The hope withered and died before it grew roots. What if Brody changed his mind? What if the very real obstacles proved to be too much? “It won’t work, Brody. Your life and your family are here. And mine are waiting for me in New York.”

  “It’s only a plane flight,” Brody said. “We can find a way to make it work.”

  “No, we can’t,” she said, biting back the words, I’m too afraid you’ll hurt me if I let you in.

  “Good-­bye, Brody.”

  Chapter 19

  “PLEASE TELL ME you have a good reason for dragging us out of bed in the middle of the night,” Chad said, sinking into a chair beside Lena. The golden retriever at her feet glanced up at Brody with a look that echoed Chad’s words.

  “It’s seven in the morning,” Brody said. “You’re scheduled to take the helicopter out to a logging site in a ­couple of hours. Katie has work. And this couldn’t wait.” He scanned the tired faces seated at his kitchen table.

  “If it is about my ring,” his sister said, “I sh
owed it to everyone.”

  “If this is a family meeting, shouldn’t Liam be here too?” Chad said. “Based on that rock, he’s one of us now.”

  “I’m here. Without a ring on my finger,” Lena added with a pointed look at Chad.

  His brother flashed a charming smile. “But you know it’s coming. I’m just waiting for the perfect moment.”

  Brody jumped in before the conversation dissolved to weddings. “Josh has something he wants to share.” He nodded to his little brother seated at the opposite end of the table.

  “That’s why you pulled me out of bed?” Josh demanded. “I could have e-­mailed or sent a text. Instead of leaving Megan asleep in my bed.”

  “Josh.” Brody stared down the length of the table.

  “Fine,” Josh said, glancing from Chad to Lena to Katie. “My memory is coming back.”

  Suddenly awake and alert, Katie and Chad fired off questions, demanding to know how he was feeling, if he recalled everything and whether this was a result of the treatment. Josh patiently explained what he could.

  “We will find out soon if he still qualifies for the trial,” Brody added.

  “But it doesn’t sound like he needs it,” Chad said.

  “Which means your doctor will be heading home,” his sister said, looking at him.

  “Kat is Josh’s doctor,” Brody pointed out. “Not mine.”

  “Josh isn’t the one who has fallen head over heels for Dr. Katherine Arnold,” Katie said.

  “Katie, I distinctly remember you telling me to mind my own business when you started seeing Liam.”

  “I did,” his sister agreed, reaching for her coffee mug. “But you hiked out to the cabin where we were staying and busted right in.”

  “We were worried about you,” Brody said.

  “And now the tables are turned. It’s my turn to worry about you, Brody.” Katie took a sip of coffee and added: “Have you told her how you feel about her?”

  “She’s leaving,” Brody said, his voice firm. Hell, as far as he was concerned, she’d already walked away. Sure, he’d followed her into the hall last night pointing out that she couldn’t exactly walk up the gravel drive and hail a cab. Though she’d looked ready to try.