Wild with You

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Wild with You Page 11

by Sara Jane Stone


  “Hey there,” Brody said, kneeling beside the sleeping bag. “Are you Jason Matts?”

  “Ah fuck.” The teen rolled over and opened his eyes.

  “Your parents reported you missing. They’re worried about you, Jason,” Brody said in the same no nonsense voice he’d used to keep his siblings in line when they were younger. “And one of the logging crews spotted the smoke from your fire,” he continued. “You know camping and building fires is not allowed here, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.” Jason wiggled out of the sleeping bag. Tall and skinny, the teen was like a beanpole. “I’m sorry about the fire. And setting up camp,” the kid said as he rolled up his sleeping bag. “But I had to do something to get their attention. My parents are planning to move to Florida. My grandma is there. My uncle and cousins too. My dad wants us to live closer.”

  “You don’t want to go, so you ran away,” Brody said as Mitch checked the makeshift fire pit to make sure it was extinguished.

  “Yeah.” The kid pulled on his pack. “Can you imagine leaving all of this for fucking Florida? It’s flat there. No mountains. No trees. Just a bunch of old ­people.”

  “And your family,” Brody said. “Trust me, kid, you want to be where your family is. At the end of the day, they’re what matters. And right now they’re worried sick about you. So let’s get you home.”

  But his thoughts drifted back to Kat as he led the kid to the parking area. His own family was here. He couldn’t pack up and walk away from them because he took one look at Kat and thought, She’s mine.

  This community, the ­people here, his brother and sisters, and yeah even the falling down home that had been in his family for generations—­they were all his too.

  DUSK SETTLED OVER the mountains as Brody pulled up to the farmhouse. After returning Jason to his parents, who’d threatened to ground him for the next year—­in Florida—­for running away, Brody had swung by the Moore Timber office and focused on trucking schedules. His sister, who ran Moore Timber’s biomass initiative, wanted another semi to haul away the by-­products of the timber harvest, the branches and other pieces that generally fell to the forest floor. Brody had found a used truck for sale, but the mechanical inspection raised a few red flags.

  Holding the paperwork on his arm, he walked into his kitchen. Kat sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his brothers. Beer bottles and an empty pizza box lined the table.

  “Brody,” Chad called, raising his beer. “Just in time.”

  “You saved me a slice?” He went to the fridge and withdrew a cold microbrew before claiming the vacant seat opposite Kat.

  Smiling, her green eyes dancing with amusement, Kat laughed. “You’re in time for another embarrassing story. Your brothers are telling me all of your dirty secrets.”

  “We felt she deserved to know,” Chad said. “Rumor has it she woke up here this morning.”

  “They caught me rifling through the cabinets for the coffee,” Kat said.

  “And I wanted to prove that there is nothing wrong with my long-­term memory,” Josh added, pushing the pizza box in Brody’s direction.

  “Kat, did you ever visit the coast when you were growing up?” Chad asked.

  She nodded. “I went on a class trip to the aquarium.”

  “We should take you back sometime,” Chad said. “They’ve made a lot of improvements.”

  “I’d love to see it again,” she said, lifting her beer to her lips. “But I’m curious about what it has to do with an embarrassing Brody story.”

  “Cut right to the good stuff,” Josh said, rubbing his hand. “I like that about you.”

  Yeah, me too, Brody thought, reaching for a slice.

  Kat let out a bark of laughter and his hand stilled. Did she realize how at home she looked with his family? Seeing her smile, watching her with his brothers, the tension from his day slipped away.

  “Not the aquarium, but the coast,” Chad explained. “A bunch of the football players took a trip to the coast to grab some of the Clam Shack’s famous chowder.”

  Chad reached for his beer and Josh took over telling the story. “Some of the cheerleaders went along and dared the guys to take a dip in the ocean. Brody accepted the challenge.”

  “But as he dove in,” Josh jumped in, “a wave rose up and ripped his shorts off him.”

  Kat turned to him. “You went swimming in the Pacific without a wetsuit in, what, September?”

  “November,” Chad corrected. “And he was in his boxers.”

  Kat raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word about the hotel pool.

  “The wave ripped them right off and took them out to sea,” Josh added. “Brody had to walk out in front of everyone without a stitch on him. And the way I heard the tale, the cold didn’t exactly do him any favors.”

  “Hey,” Brody protested.

  “You might want to keep him out of cold water,” Chad added.

  Kat laughed. “I’m not worried.”

  “What about you, Doc?” Josh asked. “What is your most embarrassing story from growing up?”

  Brody froze, the lukewarm slice in front of his lips. His brothers could joke about his high school mishaps all they wanted, but Kat didn’t need to relive the worst moments of growing up here. And he could only imagine her long list of uncomfortable stories. He’d witnessed the old hurts coming back to haunt her, and he freaking hated that look in her eyes.

  But her face lit up as she lowered her beer. “Oh I have a good one. And it involves your brother.”

  Chad raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize you knew each other back then.”

  Brody’s brow furrowed. As far as he knew, their one and only interaction had occurred in the art room. But there was nothing embarrassing about fixing a pair of shoes out of sheer necessity. “Kat—­”

  “Everyone knew Brody Summers,” she said, taking another sip of beer and ignoring the note of warning in his voice. “And I was one of the many girls at Independence High who had a crush on your brother,” she added.

  “What?” Brody lowered the pizza.

  “A crush?” Chad flashed a charming smile as he rubbed his hands together. “This should be a good one.”

  “Kat, how many beers have you had?” Brody demanded, scanning the empty beer bottles on the table.

  “She’s on her second, bro. We didn’t get her drunk,” Chad said. “Calm down and let her tell the story.”

  “My sophomore year, some of the guys from Brody’s class threw a party in the woods,” Kat said, accepting his brother’s invitation. “They got their hands on a keg, built a bonfire and invited half the school. After my first beer, I decided it would be a great idea to declare my undying love for your brother.”

  Brody choked on his pizza and coughed. “What?”

  Her undying love? He searched his memory trying to determine if the party he didn’t remember—­because hell, they’d taken a keg into the woods more than once—­was before or after he glued her sneakers together.

  “But I never got the chance.” Kat pointed her beer at him before turning her attention to her audience. “I spotted him in the woods, removed from the party, and thought here is my shot.”

  “Don’t tell me you caught him with his pants down,” Chad said.

  “No, I didn’t.” Kat shook her head. “Though I’m sure the girl with him would have preferred that. Instead your big brother was telling her—­and I can’t remember her name, even though I was insanely jealous of her at the time—­”

  “Lisa,” Chad supplied. “Brody dated her for a while in high school junior year. Nice girl. With nice—­”

  “Chad,” he snapped before his brother could comment on Lisa’s breasts. Yeah, he remembered the girl and why he’d asked her out in the first place.

  “Your brother was telling Lisa,” Kat continued, “that he respected he
r too much to kiss her when she’d been drinking.”

  “Now how is that embarrassing for you, Doc?” Josh said.

  “I was stuck in the woods, listening to a boy I had a crush on lecture a drunk girl—­who looked like she wanted to abandon her clothes and jump him—­about the right time for kissing, when Abby Greenwald, the most popular girl in my class, found me.”

  “Hey, I know Abby,” Josh said. “She works at the animal shelter near the university.”

  “Of course she’d end up surrounded by puppies.” Kat shook her head. “Abby Greenwald teased me for the rest of the year, telling everyone I’d been spying on Brody and Lisa.”

  “While Brody talked to the girl,” Chad said. “Man, it is a miracle you ever got out of your own way for long enough to get laid in high school.”

  Brody growled, biting back the words, I did just fine in high school. Because what he’d done back then, who he dated, it didn’t matter now that he took one look at Kat, smiling and joking with his family. He wanted to make her his. Upstairs, alone, away from these idiots he loved with everything he had.

  Josh pulled out his notebook and pen. “I’m writing that one down. So I can tease you later, Doc. Next time you try to make me do one of those stupid memory card games, I’m going to remind you of your ‘huge Brody Summers crush.’ ”

  Kat laughed. “You’ll still have to do the memory exercises.”

  “So I guess you’re trying to tell us you spent last night talking with my brother?” Chad said.

  “Enough,” Brody said, pushing back from the table. He set his half-­empty bottle of local brew on the table and reached for Kat’s hand, drawing her up. “I trust you guys can make sure the bottles land in recycling?”

  Chad nodded. “We got it, bro.”

  “Where are you going?” Josh called, as Brody led Kat out of the kitchen.

  “To talk to your doctor,” Brody called.

  He led her up the stairs and into his room. After the solid wood door closed behind them, he turned to Kat. He captured her hips in his hands, holding her in front of him. “So about this crush—­”

  “It was nothing,” she said, her smile fading.

  “Did it start before or after I helped fix your lucky shoes?” he asked softly.

  Her wide-­eyed gaze met his and she stepped back, trying to break away from him. But he went with her, until her back pressed against the wall.

  “You remember?” she said.

  He nodded. “As soon as you told me who you were, I put the pieces together.”

  “I can’t believe you remember that day. Or me.” She let out a low laugh. “I thought you were cute before, but that day . . . the way you smiled, your skills with the Super Glue . . . you became my high school fantasy.”

  He stared into her eyes, his body tightening with each word, driven by desire and something more. Moving closer, he placed one hand on either side of her head, his body inches from hers. “Just how wild were these fantasies?”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. Most of the time I’d see you in the hall and I just wanted you to smile at me.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t ignore you, Kat.”

  “No, but you weren’t a part of my life either,” she murmured, her gaze focused on his chest. “And I wanted your attention, all that kindness, focused on me. Just for a little while.”

  Every muscle in his body froze. Back then he’d thought she needed new shoes. He’d been blind to the fact that friendship would have carried her a lot further.

  “And a kiss,” she added, lifting her gaze to meet his. “I would have liked a kiss too.”

  The vulnerability in her green eyes took him back to the Falls Hotel parking lot. He ran the back of his hand over her cheek and she closed her eyelids. She didn’t let anyone in. She didn’t let them see the helpless girl she’d been. But he’d caught a glimpse. And now he wanted to take care of her.

  “Kat, look at me,” he said, capturing her face between his hands. She obeyed, opening her eyes and staring into his. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  His lips captured hers, soft at first before demanding more. A low growl escaped as she opened up to him, her tongue brushing his. Her fingers dug into his shirt as if she wanted to keep him right here, kissing her.

  Don’t let go.

  But she pulled back, breaking the kiss. “Do you know what I’m picturing now?” she murmured, her hands running down his chest, heading lower and lower. “Do you want to find out if it lines up with your mental picture for tonight?”

  “It does, Kat. Trust me.”

  She let out a low laugh. “You might want to hear the details first. We made caramel sauce today.”

  He listened, her words turning him on as she described all the ways she planned to cover her body with caramel. Hell, every time she rocked her hips against his, she could feel the hard proof that he liked the idea of licking her clean. But it wasn’t the just caramel sauce that left him aching to strip off her clothes and take her on the bed.

  It was Kat.

  He was falling for the woman behind the fantasy.

  Chapter 14

  ON WEDNESDAY MORNING Kat watched Josh move around the kitchen, gathering ingredients for a chili. She’d spent three nights in dessert heaven. Now it was time to leave the sugar haze behind and face reality. Her time in Independence Falls was limited—­and so were her nights in Brody’s bed.

  “After yesterday’s brownie disaster, I’m ready for some real food. What about you, Doc?”

  And there it was, another clue she couldn’t ignore.

  “I love a good chili.” Though she couldn’t envision eating it off Brody’s body.

  But then yesterday’s brownies hadn’t worked either. Plus they’d come out of the oven hard as rocks, stumping both her and Josh. She’d never claimed she could bake, but she had a growing faith in Josh’s ability to follow a recipe. Of course, the chocolate syrup she’d picked up to go with the brownie disaster had added a fun twist to her night—­especially when Brody offered his well-­defined abs as her plate.

  Josh stirred the pot once, set the wooden spoon beside the stove. “It just needs to simmer for a while.”

  “Why don’t you have a seat,” Kat suggested. “While it cooks.”

  “Don’t tell me you want to play another one of those card games.” Josh slid into the chair beside her at the handmade kitchen table. His red curls fell across his forehead. “I feel like a freaking kindergartener matching shapes,” he added.

  “No more games.” She set her pen down and interlaced her hands. “You don’t need them, do you?”

  “What?” His eyes widened.

  “You remembered the brownies we made yesterday. And you knew who I was when I walked into the kitchen.”

  “How do you know I didn’t look at my notes? You’ve been spending every night here. Do you even still have a room at the hotel?”

  “I do.” She didn’t point out the fact that he’d recalled a detail about her living arrangements or that she’d kept it for her own sanity. Even though she’d spent the past few nights with Brody, she needed to know she had a place to go that was hers, even if it was only a temporary room.

  “How do you know I didn’t check my notebook before you came down? After I heard you screaming my brother’s name and calling him a god in the shower this morning.”

  “That was yesterday morning,” she pointed out, burying her embarrassment. She thanked the same higher power she’d linked with Brody’s name that Josh’s older brother was out on another rescue, his second this week. “You remember,” she said, focusing on her patient.

  “Maybe.” Josh shifted in his seat, staring down at the table. “I guess your cooking therapy is working.”

  “It’s possible. Though it hasn’t been long. I would guess you were on the road to recovery when I showed
up. There is a lot we don’t know about the brain. Sometimes ­people who suffered accidents like yours only lose their short-­term memory for a few months. Some a few days. And sometimes it just comes back. Especially in patients who underwent brain surgery.” She reached out and covered his hand. “Your memory has been coming back for a while now, hasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. But it is confusing. I’m not always sure I can trust it.”

  She squeezed his hand. “That’s normal. It may take a while. And it might not come back completely.”

  He glanced up at her, his eyes bright with panic. “Does this mean I’m done? With the trial?”

  “I’ll need to confer with Dr. Westbury. This hasn’t happened with any of the other patients. We’ve seen progress, but after months of following an established therapy plan.”

  She left out the part that he’d barely qualified. Hearing that others were so much worse off than him wouldn’t help. And it might make him feel guilty about his recovery. But she couldn’t risk skewing the outcome of the trial. For reliable results, they needed some semblance of uniformity.

  “I can help you establish a long-­term plan,” she continued. “The confusion and the fear might linger for a while. The medication will continue to help with the depression, but the rest is about building a life that works for you.”

  “I can’t go back to driving trucks and hauling timber.”

  “Is that what you wanted?”

  “After we sold the business, I was thinking about picking up more shifts with Eric Moore’s crews. Though I don’t think they want me out there operating heavy machinery or chainsaws.”

  “Probably not,” she agreed. “Maybe you could take on a different role?”

  “I’m not sure I want to. Before the accident, I thought about buying some land and starting a vineyard. I’d toyed with going back to school to study viniculture.” He smiled. “Megan really likes the idea.”

  “When I get back, let’s talk about how to make your plan a success.” She withdrew her hand and picked up her pen.

  “You’re leaving?”

  She nodded, scribbling a quick note in his chart. “I’m taking the red-­eye back to New York tonight.”

 

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