Wicked Whiskey Love

by Melissa Foster

  “I thought we’d have dinner, get to know each other a little better.”

  She waited for him to say more, like where they were going, and when he didn’t offer any clues, she got even more nervous. Needing to fill the silence, she said, “How was your day at work?”

  He slid her a slightly confused, and very hot, grin. “I don’t think anyone’s asked me that for years.”

  “Really? Your job is so demanding. I imagine it’s hugely emotional. If nobody asks, how do you get out from under it?”

  He focused on the road as he drove through town, his brows knitting. “I deal, you know.”

  “I don’t know, but I’d like to,” she said honestly. “I don’t know anything about being a doctor, but I’ve always been intrigued at how doctors can see patient after patient and keep them straight. I know you have charts, but at least with the doctors at the women’s clinic, they’re in and out so quickly, I think we all must blur together. But I guess it doesn’t much matter, because there’s no guarantee we’ll see the same doctor each time anyway. It’s a little uncomfortable. Do your patients see just you, or do they see other doctors in your practice?”

  “Depending on their situation, they might see a team of doctors, but if I’m overseeing treatments, I see them at every appointment.” Tension tightened his features. “You don’t have a private obstetrician?”

  “No.”

  He was quiet for a moment before saying, “I have a good buddy who’s an ob-gyn, Damon Rhys, and if you prefer a woman, his partner, Stephanie Blair, also has a great reputation.”

  She knew private doctors were more expensive than the clinic, but she appreciated his offer, so she said, “Thanks. I’ll have to see if they take my insurance. What’s the name of the practice?” He gave her the name as they neared Whiskey Bro’s and said, “When we park, I’ll text you his number.”

  “Are we going to Whiskey Bro’s?” Finlay handled the food for the bar, and Sarah knew she wouldn’t have to worry about allergens.

  “I thought we’d have a few drinks before…Oh wait…” He made a teasing tsk sound. “You can’t drink. Damn.” He shook his head as they drove past the bar, feigning disappointment. “First I have to bring four wheels instead of two, and now I have to skip my nightly brews?”

  She knew he was teasing, but before she could come up with a sassy retort, he reached across the console, taking her hand in his. Then he lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss there, making her heart sing.

  When he turned off the main road onto a narrow lane near Bullet and Finlay’s street, he pulled over to the shoulder and put the car in park, giving her his full attention.

  “I don’t know what type of guys you’re used to going out with, but I’m relatively intelligent. I know what it means to be pregnant and to worry about food allergies. And I know that even if you’re not worried right now, in about half an hour, regardless of whether you’re having a good time or not—and trust me, you will be—you’ll probably start worrying about your kids.”

  Feeling suddenly shy because of her transparency, she lowered her gaze.

  He lifted her chin and said, “You’re safe with me, darlin’. And if you want to call and check on your kids, or sit in your backyard for our date so you don’t feel so far from them, that’s okay with me. I just want to spend time with you.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. Apparently he didn’t need a response, because he turned his attention back to the narrow lane before them, and they drove in comfortable silence for a long while. Eventually they came to three forks in the road. Bones turned down the one farthest to the right, and a few minutes later the woods gave way to a beautiful view of a small marina.

  “Where are we?” she asked as he parked.

  “Harborview Marina. It serves the houses in my development. It’s empty this time of year. Almost everyone’s got their boats put away for the winter.”

  He climbed out of the car and came around to help her out. She took in the moon reflecting on the inky water and the boats rocking gently in the marina. Bones tucked her beneath his arm again. She wasn’t sure why he’d gone from a hand on her back to holding her closer, but as they walked toward the docks, a breeze swept over them, and she was thankful for his warmth.

  “You said you were from Florida. Did you spend much time on the water?” he asked as they stepped onto a dock and he guided her toward the last boat.

  “Not really. Life was a bit crazy back then.” She saw concern rising in his eyes and tried to dissuade him from asking more questions. “You know how it is when you live by the water. You take it for granted.”

  “That’s a shame. The water brings me a sense of peace. Give me one second.” He climbed onto the luxurious boat, which had a massive indoor area with several large windows across the front and more on the sides. There was a deck on top of that area with an awning above. The back of the boat had lots of comfortable-looking cushioned benches. She was pretty sure this would be considered a yacht. It was beautiful, like something out of a travel magazine.

  He lowered a ramp to the dock, and then he walked with her onto the boat with one arm around her back.

  “Is this yours?” she asked.

  “It is. Sarah, meet Edison. Eddy,” he said to the boat, “be good to my girl.”

  “Are we going sailing?” she asked nervously. “I’ve never been, and I don’t know if I’ll get seasick.”

  “Don’t worry, darlin’. We aren’t taking the boat out. I didn’t think you’d want to be that far from the kids in case they needed you.”

  She followed him to the seating area, and he lifted one of the cushions, revealing a secret compartment. He withdrew several blankets and said, “I’m sorry, but I need just a few minutes to get us set up. Do you want to sit down and relax? Can I get you some lemonade? Iced tea? Hot tea?”

  “Hot tea on a boat? That sounds elegant.”

  “Hot tea it is.”

  She sat down, and he draped a blanket over her legs. “I’m not too cold, but thank you. You sure you don’t want some help?”

  “No. I’ve got it. You sit there and relax.”

  He disappeared into the cabin, and a few seconds later strings of tiny amber lights bloomed to life along the boat railings and up the mast, making the evening even more romantic. Country music began playing softly from speakers near the entrance to the cabin, and then Bones appeared with an old-fashioned-looking lantern, which he lit and set on the table. He disappeared into the cabin again, returning a minute later with a tall, silver contraption. He fussed with it, and a moment later it glowed orange, and she realized it was a space heater. He’d thought of everything. He ducked inside again, longer this time, and when he returned he set the table for two and then popped back into the cabin for another minute and brought her a mug of tea and a plate of sliced lemon, honey, and packets of sugar and sugar substitute.

  “You have quite a system,” she said, wondering if he did this for all his dates.

  “I wish I had a system,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve never cooked dinner for anyone before. It’s usually just me and the sea, or family, of course. I bought the space heater today, and Scott helped me set up the lights. I’m winging it, Sarah, and I’m sure it looks that way. I wanted everything to be perfect for you.” He held up one finger and said, “I only need another minute or two. I guess if I were smarter, I’d have had the meal catered, so I wasn’t running back and forth, but I didn’t want to chance it with your allergies.”

  Back into the cabin he went, leaving her slack-jawed. He’d cooked for her and bought a space heater just for tonight? All her basal instincts wanted to pick apart his thoughtfulness and figure out what he expected in return. But when he came out of the cabin carrying a silver tray with three dishes on it and his eyes found hers, she saw in them everything she needed to know. He wasn’t looking at her like he wanted to take anything from her. No, she sensed just the opposite, that he wanted to give. To spend time together, just
as he’d said.

  He set the food on the table and sat down beside her. “I hope this is okay. Creamy Tuscan chicken with sundried tomatoes and cilantro and lime sweet potatoes. I got the recipes from Finlay before they left on their honeymoon. She assured me that it was gluten free, dairy free, soy free, egg free, tree nut and peanut free.”

  She felt herself tearing up.

  “Oh no, I blew it, didn’t I? Are you allergic to something here? Do you have allergies other than to food? I should have asked. I can put this away and we can go to a restaurant.” He pushed to his feet, but she touched his arm and shook her head, bringing him back down beside her.

  “No, you didn’t blow it, Bones. It’s beyond perfect.” Pregnancy hormones always made her more emotional, but she had a feeling even without them she’d be teary eyed. “I’m sorry. Other than when Finlay brought meals right after the accident, nobody has ever cooked for me, much less done anything like this.” Even her parents hadn’t gone to any lengths to feed her things she’d enjoy. She’d go weeks eating only jam sandwiches on gluten-free bread and taco meat without shells.

  “That’s a shame, because a woman like you deserves to be treated special.”

  SARAH TRIED SO hard to mask her feelings, she actually drew more awareness to the depths of which he’d touched her. As much as Bones hated to see and acknowledge it, there was also something much darker lingering in those gorgeous eyes. Unhappiness perhaps. Bones had always had a sixth sense about despair in others. It helped him in the medical field and in the dating world, telling him which women were potential trouble before he got involved. But with Sarah, it felt different. His feelings for her over the past couple of months had grown too deep to heed the red flags she’d tried to warn him about.

  “I think you have a second calling as a chef if this whole doctor gig doesn’t work out for you,” she said as they ate. “This is delicious.”

  “Oh yeah? I’ll let them know at the women’s shelter where I volunteer. I bet they could use another cook.”

  “I didn’t know there was a women’s shelter here.” She took a bite of the sweet potatoes and closed her eyes. “Mm. I love sweet potatoes.”

  He stabbed a piece of sweet potato from his plate and held it up for her. Her adorably shy smile tweaked his heart as she leaned in to eat it.

  “The shelter is in Parkvale, about thirty minutes outside of town, and run by Eva Yeun, the wife of a Dark Knight. It’s in a pretty rough area, but they provide housing and counseling for women and children who have suffered abuse or are in danger of being abused. I volunteer when I can, usually once or twice a month, to examine the residents and children, but oftentimes they need someone to listen more than they need medical attention.”

  Sarah gripped her fork tighter and shifted uncomfortably, putting a little more space between them. “They don’t mind a man doing the exams?”

  “Finding volunteers can be difficult, which is why an oncologist is doing general exams and not a family practice doctor. I can’t say that all of the women are open to being examined, but I do what I can.”

  She nodded, fidgeting with a seam on her jeans. “You sort of avoided my question earlier about what your days are like as a physician. I get it if you don’t want to talk about it…”

  The quick subject change, and her discomfort, did not go unnoticed, but Bones didn’t push. “It’s not that I don’t like talking about my day. Nobody ever asks. I’m glad you did, but I guess I’ve learned to compartmentalize my work, the Dark Knights business, and everything else in my life. My family says I’m the king of distancing myself from people and situations, and they’re probably right.” He’d learned how to do it after losing a childhood friend who had been the impetus for his going to medical school. A familiar pang of longing washed through him. “I’ve done it for a very long time, but I don’t seem to have the same inclination when it comes to you.”

  A sweet smile appeared for only a moment before turning serious again, and she said, “I know all about distancing yourself from people and situations, and I’m honestly interested in hearing about your day. I want to get to know you better. The real you, not just the person you want everyone to see. I mean, I really like who you are, but we spend so many hours being something—a doctor, a hairdresser, a mom, a bartender, whatever—it shapes us into who we are in other parts of our lives. But oncology is such a scary field. Even the word cancer makes the pit of my stomach hurt, and you deal with it every day. I guess what I’m saying is, if you want to talk, I’m a pretty good listener.”

  Bones had gone out with a lot of women over the years, and never once had any taken such an interest in those aspects. He loved that Sarah wanted to know more about him and about the more important parts of his life, but he wondered again about her background. What or who had shaped her to be such an amazing mother and empathetic person, when from what he’d gathered, her parents hadn’t been either?

  He knew she’d clam up if he asked, so he said, “I’d like to share what it’s like with you. The truth is, as sad as cancer is in general, my days revolve around hope. When a person receives a cancer diagnosis, they suddenly go from living their life to fighting for it. Nobody is prepared for it. It’s not something we teach our children, like being wary of strangers or how to interview for a job. It’s like being dropped onto an iceberg, where the landscape they’ve always navigated is suddenly foreign. Even patients with strong support systems can feel like they’re battling the disease alone. In addition to doing everything I can medically for my patients, I try to give them what they need sometimes more than medication. I listen, and I don’t overbook my schedule for that reason. I never know if a couple will have an hour’s worth of questions, a single parent will need to talk about his or her children, or an elderly patient will wax nostalgic and simply need to tell a story. I give them the best care I can and the most time I am able.”

  “That’s why you offered to refer me to Dr. Rhys. Because you care so deeply, you think every doctor should.”

  He knew most did, but he also knew many who slighted their patients, jamming in as many as they could to make more money. “You’re having a baby. Your doctor is not just looking at your most private area, which I would imagine is uncomfortable enough, but they’re caring for your most precious gift. I guess I feel like your emotional state is just as important as your physical. Connecting with a doctor during multiple visits allows him to assess that on a more personal level, picking up on nuances a doctor who doesn’t know you might miss.”

  “I see what you mean. Being a doctor is so different from what your other family members do. Did you always know you wanted to be one?”

  “Not always,” he said honestly. “To understand me, you have to understand all the pieces of my life. I’m not sure how much you know about the Dark Knights beyond the fact that we’re a club, not a gang, and we help people in need and protect the community.”

  “I’ve seen that firsthand,” she said with a smile. “I don’t know if any of us would be alive if not for Bullet’s bravery. He literally ran into a burning car and saved all of us and then stayed with me at the hospital. That’s…well, you know how unbelievable that is. I would be knee deep in debt if not for you guys. I’ve never met anyone like you or your family and friends. It’s so far from my life, it feels like a dream.”

  “Well, that’s how we were raised in and out of the club. My great-grandfather founded the Dark Knights as well as our family businesses. He was a hard-ass biker, and he brought his sons up to be as well. That’s why Biggs, my father, takes total responsibility for everyone around him, including the residents of this town. He raised us the same way. From a young age we were taught to help and protect—everyone.”

  “So that’s why you became a doctor? You wanted to help and protect? That makes sense.”

  “It makes sense, but it wasn’t the reason I became a doctor.” He’d never told a soul about Thomas, but he wanted to tell Sarah the truth, and if he ever expected to find out
about the shadows behind her eyes, he had to expose his own. “When I was in seventh grade, a boy named Thomas moved to town. He was wicked smart. The kind of smart that blows your mind, but he was this skinny, meek kid who wore glasses and kept to himself. The only way you knew he was smart was by listening to his answers in class. He never acted like he was better than anyone else. One day after school, I saw a kid giving him a hard time, and I stood up for Thomas. The bully was a real jerk, and I ended up giving him a black eye. He was just a punk who skipped school more than he showed up. But I hung around Thomas after that, knowing that guy would try to find a time when Thomas was alone just to show he was the top dog. Well, Thomas was afraid of me at first, trying to avoid me, because I had fought the other kid. But I was relentless,” he said, remembering those early days vividly and fondly. “I can still see Thomas looking over his shoulder as he walked home from school, telling me I didn’t have to watch out for him.”

  “Aw, the poor kid was probably embarrassed.”

  “Better to be embarrassed than to have a broken nose. Eventually, he gave up telling me to go away and we became friends. Really good friends. We’d go down to the docks at the big marina where his dad used to keep his boat, and we’d hang out for hours. The summer before ninth grade, Thomas got sick.” He swallowed against the emotions clogging his throat and said, “At first they thought it was just a virus. He had headaches and was tired a lot. But then he developed other symptoms, numbness in his legs, blurred vision.”

  Sarah put her hand over his. “He had cancer?”

  Bones nodded. “Brain tumor. They found it too late. I spent as much time as I could with him, whether he was in the hospital getting treatments or at home. I saw the way he looked at those doctors, hoping for a miracle. He never got his miracle. After he died, I wanted to give him miracles. I wanted to give every kid, every parent, every damn person touched by cancer miracles.”

  Tension spiked across his shoulders with the memories, and he looked away to avoid letting Sarah see his pain. “I used to call him Edison because he was so smart. You know, like Thomas Edison? He called me bonehead, because the guy I decked was twice my size and he thought I was stupid for going after him. After he died, I felt like school was moving too slowly. I wanted to get on with things, go to medical school, and make a difference. That’s why I graduated at sixteen. When I told my dad I wanted to go to medical school, I also told him I’d chosen my biker name. Bones.”