Wicked Whiskey Love

by Melissa Foster

  “He’s your brother. In my world that means he looks out for you and deserves a heads-up.” He spread his hand over her upper back, his fingers brushing the ends of her hair, and felt her heart beating rapidly.

  The song ended, but they continued dancing. When the next song started he said, “Everyone is in our corner, darlin’. One date. One night to see if whatever this is between us is as real for you as it is for me.”

  “How do you know it’s anything for me?”

  Did she really think she hid her emotions that well? “You said you can’t breathe when I look at you.”

  “Ohmygosh,” she whispered. “I’m the lamest woman on earth.”

  “What does that make me? Because each and every time you look at me, I feel like I’m finally breathing for the very first time. And when you look at your children? Dear God, woman. That smile and the love in your eyes…? It makes all the bad in the world seem not quite so harsh. Go out with me, Sarah. Trust me enough for one date.”

  Her brows knitted. “Are you…? Dixie said you could be lethal.”

  “Dixie looks up to all her big brothers, but I promise she didn’t mean it the way you’re thinking. We were brought up to protect our own and those who are close to us. I’d take a bullet for anyone in that tent. I’d take a bullet for you.”

  “That’s terrifying.” Her hands slipped to his shoulders, holding on tighter, as if she didn’t like the idea of something happening to him.

  Cancer was terrifying. The thought of her leaving home at sixteen and her sister at thirteen was terrifying. Caring for a family without health insurance was terrifying. But he didn’t say any of that to her. She had enough worries on her plate, and he felt her walls coming down. “No, darlin’. The thought of you turning me down for this date is terrifying. Having someone watching out for you is reassuring.”

  “You have all the answers. So tell me this. What did Bullet mean when he called you the dirty doctor? Because I’m not a biker groupie. I don’t want to be tied up or spanked or to wear a leather collar.”

  “Is that what you think Dixie and Gemma are like? Or Crystal? Finlay?”

  “No! I just meant…What did Bullet mean? I don’t know what you’re into. Obviously you have some weird sexual hang-ups, because you like me.”

  He clenched his jaw. “You need to stop doing that, please.”

  “What?”

  “Putting yourself down. You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong woman who puts her children ahead of herself, works hard, and still makes time to do things for others.”

  “Fine, but just because you think I’m pretty or smart doesn’t mean I have to see myself that way. But I’ll take strong,” she said lightly. “And a mother is supposed to put her children first. Now, if you want to go out with me, then stop dancing around the answer and fess up, dirty doctor.”

  “I like your sass,” he confessed. “My brothers have always been very open about their sexual conquests. For as long as I can remember, they’d joke about it. Until they fell in love and finally had a reason to stop. They wanted to protect their significant other’s privacy. I’ve been private since day one. If I take a woman to bed, that’s between me and her, not an act for someone else to get off on. I’ve never questioned them, but I assume they call me the dirty doctor because they have no idea what I’m into, and since I like leather and appreciate a woman in lace, maybe they think I’m into kink.” He pulled her closer and said, “I’m a private guy, but don’t worry, darlin’. If you want dirty, I can be as naughty as you like.”

  “No, I didn’t mean…I like naughty, but…” She turned bright pink and huffed out a sigh. “Never mind. I can’t believe I said that. I told you I was lame.”

  She tried to pull away, and he slid his hand down her bottom, angling their bodies so her side was pressed against him, bringing her ear close enough for him to whisper, “You’re anything but lame.” He pressed a kiss just below her earlobe, feeling her shiver in his arms. “How about that date?” He turned her face toward his, desperate to take his first taste of her. Her lips were so close, so tempting. If he leaned in… “Say yes, Sarah. Give something good a chance.”

  “I have baggage.”

  He wondered how she’d ever gotten pregnant with how hard she fought getting close. Disturbing ideas came to mind. He pushed them away to dissect later and said, “I have a knack for unpacking.”

  “I’m not kidding,” she said with pleading eyes. “You’ve only seen my children, and they’re my best features. I have real baggage that you can’t see.”

  “I see you, Sarah, and your beautiful children. Whatever it took for you to be right here, right now, whatever made this moment possible didn’t ruin you.”

  She looked away and said, “You have no idea.”

  “Then let me in. What’s the worst that can happen?” Bones had known killers and drug dealers and women who had been raped and beaten. There was nothing he couldn’t handle or help with.

  “I could lose you as a friend.” She gazed at the tent and said, “My children could lose you. We could lose all our friends, and this is the first place I’ve ever had any friends who were good people not because they wanted or needed something but because they just were. I’m afraid to lose that.”

  Her confession slayed him. “We’re not going to let that happen, darlin’. How about we take things one step at a time? Say yes, Sarah. Let me show you how a lady should be treated.”

  She was quiet for a long moment. The band faded to white noise, leaving Bones to listen to the sound of his own thundering heart.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she said tentatively, “but okay. One date, but I can’t ride your motorcycle.”

  He chuckled, then feigned irritation. “Damn. What about skydiving?”

  “Oh, sure. Why not?” She laughed sweetly. “We should go back in. I’m worried about leaving the kids for too long.”

  They talked through their schedules and settled on Thursday night for their date so Scott could watch the kids and put them to bed. He knew Sarah was still nervous, but as they headed inside, he draped an arm over her shoulder and said, “You know, some people around here might think I’m a catch.”

  “Ya think?” she said sarcastically.

  “They’d be wrong, darlin’. In this equation, you’re the catch.”

  “That’s a pretty smooth line, but don’t get too cozy. It’s one date, and you’ll probably end up regretting it.”

  “Like hell I will,” he said more harshly than he meant to. If he did nothing else, he was going to break her of that self-deprecating habit. “We’ve got a date, which makes you my girl, and—”

  “I had no idea you were so possessive,” she said. “Maybe I need to rethink this date.”

  “No rethinking, and nobody talks smack about my girl. Including you.”

  She winced. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m just nervous, and—”

  As they neared the entrance to the tent, he drew her into his arms, catching her by surprise. In a split second that surprise turned to heat. He lowered his lips toward hers to quiet her worrying mind and satiate his thrumming desires.

  “There you are!”

  Dixie’s voice startled Sarah, and she stumbled backward with a gasp before he had a chance to kiss her. Bones kept one arm around Sarah, glaring at his sister. “Great timing, Dix.”

  “Shit. Sorry. Wait. I thought…?” She looked at Sarah.

  Sarah bit her lower lip and shrugged one shoulder.

  “Hallefuckinglujah! About damn time.” Dixie hiked a thumb over her shoulder, mischief flickering in her eyes. “I’ll go back in and leave you alone.”

  “No!” Sarah said way too fast.

  Bones arched a brow, but embarrassment was written all over her face. Well, hell. It looked like he’d have to tread even more carefully after all.

  “Good, because you have got to see this.” Dixie grabbed Sarah’s wrist and hauled her into the tent. Sarah looked over her shoulder at Bones
and mouthed, Sorry!

  He thought he’d take them on a wild ride, but he had it all wrong. Sarah definitely held his reins in her hands.

  He walked into the tent, mesmerized by her sappy expression as she looked at the dance floor. He followed her gaze, his insides melting at the sight of Biggs dancing with Lila in one arm, his cane in the other. The little angel had her fist buried in his beard, her head on his shoulder. By his side, Bradley and Kennedy danced with their arms around each other. Hawk stood discreetly off to the side, catching it all.

  “Does she know?”

  Bones turned at the sound of Bullet’s voice. He hadn’t even heard him approach. “Know what?”

  “That you paid Hawk to take pictures of her and the kids all night.”

  Bones smiled to himself. “No, but we’re going out Thursday night.”

  “The dirty doctor strikes again.”

  Bones put a hand on Bullet’s shoulder and said, “About that. How about you calm that shit down around her, okay?”

  Bullet chuckled.

  “I’d hate to kick the living hell out of you before you have a chance to consummate your marriage.”

  Bullet looked across the dance floor at Finlay. Her hair was tousled, her lipstick worn off, and she had a sated expression on her flushed face. “Too late.”

  “What? Where? How?” Bones couldn’t imagine sweet, proper Finlay sneaking off to have sex at her own wedding. Then again, it was obvious that her love for Bullet knew no limits.

  “Dude, real men don’t say shit.” Bullet took a pull on his beer and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Fins told me if I told a soul that was all the action I’d get for a very long time.”

  “Never thought I’d see you pussy whipped.”

  “Never thought I’d like it so much.” Bullet nudged him toward the bar. “Let’s go celebrate. Sounds like we both got lucky tonight.”

  Chapter Six

  THURSDAY AFTERNOON BONES sat in his office at the Peaceful Harbor Center of Hope, a premier East Coast cancer center, listening to his patient Wendy Stockard talk about her fourteen-year-old son Ollie’s latest musical endeavor, his friends, grades, and just about everything other than herself or the aggressive form of breast cancer she was dealing with. The disease was so invasive, it had spread dramatically in the time between her biopsy and the date she was supposed to begin chemotherapy, and they’d had to act while there was still time. She’d had immediate surgery to remove her right breast, along with several lymph nodes in her armpits and neck. That was ten weeks ago. She began aggressive chemotherapy and radiation two weeks after surgery, and the entire ordeal was taking its toll. Bones met with her every week before her treatment to go over lab reports, adjust medications, and assess her mental state. Which was currently par for the course for Wendy, avoiding the topic of herself and the disease. Though this wasn’t a case of denial. From the start she’d been determined to conquer the bastardly disease. Now he understood that, like Sarah, as a single mother she attacked everything this way, putting her son first and then dealing with her own issues. It had been a struggle for her to learn to put her health first, but she had come to understand that her well-being would feed her son’s.

  She touched her headscarf, an uncomfortable expression rolling into place. It broke his heart every time he saw the familiar embarrassment in his patients’ eyes. He knew some patients had a hard time because they had come to see him initially with coiffed hair, flawless skin, and their lives under control. They thought their lack of hair, ashen skin, fatigue, and anything-but-in-control lives made them less attractive or appear weak, but the truth was, those were the signs of their strength. Bones was in awe of every person he treated and of every family member who had to deal with the hell that was cancer.

  “Ollie wants to shave his head,” she said with a small smile. “He has such thick, gorgeous hair. He got that from me, you know, not the man who fathered him.”

  He’d been waiting for her son to do it. He’d seen many loved ones take that step—showing the world their support and relieving a little of the feelings of helplessness that plagued them. “I’m surprised he’s waited so long.”

  Ollie was as tough as his mother. Bones had been with them when Wendy told Ollie about her diagnosis. She hadn’t wanted to do it alone, for fear of breaking down. Ollie had cried for only a minute before that sadness had morphed to anger, and weeks later, when Wendy was sick and weak from treatments, it had turned to pure rage. He’d run away, and Bones and his Dark Knights brothers had taken to the streets and tracked him down. Ollie had needed something other than his mother’s disease to focus on. Something to give him a purpose and let him feel as though he was helping. They’d gotten him a job at the marina, where he earned enough money to bring his mother a little present now and then. He could have made the encouraging cards he left in her purse the mornings of her treatment, but knowing he’d worked toward them gave him a sense of pride.

  He was a good kid. His world had been ripped out from under him, but he had a grip on things now, and his desire to shave his head proved how far he’d come. He was no longer running with fear; he was acting on it and supporting his mother in the only ways he knew how.

  “It doesn’t worry you?” she asked nervously. “Because I want him to be thinking about girls he wants to kiss and music he wants to create. I want him to gripe about doing homework and slam his bedroom door because his mother doesn’t understand him.”

  Bones had become adept at distancing himself from his patients in order to keep his emotions out of his professional medical decisions, but at the end of the day, after those decisions had been made, thoughts of his patients and their families lingered.

  “You want him to be a typical teenager,” he said, “but I’m not sure there is such a thing. Every teenager has something they’re dealing with. Ollie happens to be dealing with your illness.”

  “But he’s just a boy,” she pleaded.

  “Don’t let him hear you say that,” Bones said with a smile, earning one in return. “He’s almost fifteen. That’s a strange time for guys. Their bodies and minds are maturing, but there’s a place inside them that fears the changes as much as they crave them. As you told me the day I shared your diagnosis, you and Ollie are all each other have. He felt powerless, and now he’s showing you that he can handle it. He wants to be in the trenches with you. I think he might be well served if you let him have the sense of doing something.”

  She sighed. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I should be thankful that he asked my permission in the first place.”

  “That’s one way to look at it.” Bones clasped his hands and set them on his lap. “Now, how about you tell me how Ollie’s mom is faring?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Do I have to?”

  “Seems like a good idea. I hear your doctor is a pretty good listener.”

  “I’m still wondering how you’re single.”

  Bones chuckled. If he had a dollar for every female patient who said something similar, he could buy a second boat. “Nice try at changing the subject.”

  “I really am wondering…and changing the subject.” She sighed and sank back in the chair. “I’m tired, my body is hairless, and half the time I don’t want to get out of bed.”

  “And do you stay in bed?”

  She nodded. “Sometimes, but not because I want to give up. Single moms don’t rest. We don’t rely on others or wallow in our misery. We can’t afford to. When I stay in bed it’s because I don’t have a choice.”

  He thought of Sarah and how hard she pushed herself for her family. “And the other times, when you’re not in bed?”

  “I’m either getting treatment or thanking the heavens above that I have these things to worry about and I’m not buried six feet under.”

  As hard as it was to hear, her blatant honesty was reassuring. She recognized the value of the treatments. They talked for a while longer, and when Wendy left, Bones found himself thinking of Sarah and her ch
ildren again. There was no escaping the worries and what-ifs of single parenting. He knew Sarah had health insurance through the salon, and she had Scott to help her if something were to happen. And she has me. If she wants me.

  She wants me, he mused. Even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself yet.

  It had been such a busy week, he hadn’t had a chance to really talk with her. Sunday he’d gone on a ride with Bear and a bunch of their buddies, and Monday night they’d had church, which was what they called the meetings of the Dark Knights. He’d helped Scott Tuesday and Wednesday evenings with the basement, but Sarah hadn’t gotten home from work until after eight, and then she’d been busy with the kids. They’d texted a few times since, but even through her texts he could tell she was nervous about their date.

  He pulled out his phone and sent her a quick text. Hey, beautiful. Three short hours until you go on the best date of your life.

  His office phone rang. He picked it up and said, “Dr. Whiskey.”

  “Wayne? Hey, man, it’s Jon.” Jon Butterscotch was an orthopedic oncologist who worked in his building, and he was a good friend. He drove a motorcycle, hung out at Whiskey Bro’s, and was an avid extreme sports fanatic with a boisterous personality. But on the job, he was purely professional.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Could be better. I need a consult for a seventeen-year-old girl with a brain tumor.”

  After discussing the patient and setting up a consultation, he read the text from Sarah that had come in while he was talking with Jon. Are you sure you want to go out tonight?

  She’d asked if he was sure each time they’d spoken. It was time to quash the question once and for all. He grabbed his jacket and stalked out of his office.

  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” he said to the receptionist on his way out the door. He climbed onto his bike, tugged on his helmet, and drove over to Chicki’s salon. He parked by the curb and took off his helmet on the way inside.

  “Hi, Bones. Do you have an appoint—” the receptionist began as he set his helmet on the desk on his way past, heading for Sarah.