Wild About Her Wingman

by Robin Bielman

  His cell chirped on the nightstand. He reached for it without paying attention until he glanced down. A quick look back to the table and there was his phone. He’d accidentally picked up Erin’s instead. A text from Dominic lit up the screen: Looking forward to Saturday night. How’s eight?

  His chest squeezed. Every muscle in his body tensed, going rigid enough to crack. She’d decided to go out with him.

  Terrible, Troy wanted to text back, but he put the phone back in its spot. He had no claim on her. She could do whatever she wanted. He’d gotten caught up in her, yeah, but shit. She wasn’t going to stop climbing mountains and jumping off bridges. She wasn’t going to pass up cliff diving or any other adventure that carried risks.

  Dom might be the guy she was looking for.

  She padded back into the room, fluffy blue socks on her feet she must’ve picked up off her living room floor. Her hands were full.

  And damn, she was beautiful with her hair tousled, her cheeks stained pink, her lips still swollen from his kisses.

  “Thought you might be hungry.” She scooted onto the bed and dropped a box of crackers and a can of spray cheese. She handed him some papers. “And these are my notes and report I gave to Captain Sullivan. I figured you’d like a copy.”

  “Thanks.” He took a quick glance at the top sheet before putting them aside. “He told me you’d been by. Also, you should know that several of the guys think they may need to be evaluated by you now.”

  She rolled onto her stomach, bent her arms, and put her face in her hands. Her feet popped up and her legs swayed back and forth. “Really? Captain Sullivan told the station about me?”

  “No. They saw you, Erin,” he sort of growled. If a guy needed help, sure, Troy wanted him to get it, but the idea of Erin spending time with some of his coworkers rankled.

  “Oh.” She pulled a cracker out of the box, popped it in her mouth. Grabbed another and sprayed cheese on it. “Want one?” She handed him the snack.

  “You eat this junk?” He took the cracker, lifted it to eye level, and tried to decide what exactly the “cheese” really was.

  “It’s delicious.” She took a bite of a cracker, some of the drizzled cheese falling off onto her finger like silly string.

  He snatched her hand and ate the remaining half, licking her finger as he did so. His move knocked her off balance and she rolled onto her side with a “hey!”

  “It’s not bad, but I think I know how to make it better. May I?” He traded her the cracker she’d made him for the can of cheese.

  “The only thing better would be if we had olives to put on top. I forgot to buy some.” She ate the cracker anyway.

  Troy made a face.

  Erin laughed. “Not an olive lover?”

  “No.”

  “When I was little I’d put them on my fingers before I ate them.” She got a faraway look in her eyes as if she was remembering those occasions with fondness.

  “Being the inexperienced cheese-and-cracker eater that I am, I’d much prefer this.” He gently pushed her onto her back, straddled her, and proceeded to spray some cheese onto her mouth. “Don’t move. I’ll get it.”

  His lips glided over hers softly. He nibbled and licked. She put her arms around his neck and wriggled against him. Given that he had no clothes on, it was rather distracting. Once all the cheese was gone he lifted up.

  “Yes. Much better that way. Should I go lower?” He waved the can in front of her face.

  “Eww. No. That’s gross. It’s not like it’s whipped cream.”

  Troy raised his eyebrows. “Got any?”

  She pushed him off her. “No… Unfortunately. Now let me eat. I get very grumpy if I don’t eat.”

  He stuck to plain crackers after that, but really enjoyed watching her eat both. She seemed to enjoy eyeing his body. And when she turned the tables on him, straddling his hips and spraying cheese on his chest, he didn’t argue.

  Hell, she could put whatever she wanted on him if she followed it up with her very talented tongue.

  “Hmm.” She sat up, her hands splayed on his rib cage. “I’m not sure I got it all. You might need to take a shower.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think so.”

  “Know someone who can wash my back?”

  Her head titled to the side. “I do. She happens to need a shower too.” She pulled her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it aside. Next she scooted off the bed, turned her back to him, and took off her sweatpants, giving him a little show as she wiggled her hips in the process.

  Troy let her get to the bathroom door before he followed. Committing every slope and curve of her gorgeous backside to memory took a few seconds. Tonight everything about her was getting cataloged, because come morning he had to walk away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Troy dragged himself to his mom’s kitchen to make coffee and raid the fridge. Yesterday had been one minor emergency after another and he’d gotten little sleep at the station. The smell of fresh-baked something hit him when he walked in, and his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten either.

  Bree stood at the counter, flour on her cheek and in her hair. With muffin tins everywhere and bananas piled high, it looked like a banana muffin bake-off was taking place.

  “Hey sis.” He grabbed a muffin and sighed with gratitude when he found the coffeepot full and hot. “You do all this for me?”

  “Not quite. I have to bring muffins for the bake sale at Amelia’s school tomorrow. How are they?”

  “Terrible,” he said, his mouth full. He sat on a barstool at the kitchen island with his coffee.

  She flicked a dish towel at him.

  “Actually, they’re not bad, Martha. But I’ll have to eat at least one more to be sure.”

  “Have two.” She leaned her elbows on the counter and eyed him a little more closely. “You look like you could use a little extra pick-me-up this morning. Want to talk about it?”

  Bree could always tell when stuff weighed on his shoulders. And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t hoped she’d be around today to bug him about it.

  Still, he didn’t exactly enjoy talking about feelings, so he took another bite of his muffin. Bree waited patiently. Just spit the damn thing out.

  “I’m in love with Erin.”

  His sister’s face morphed from placid to psyched in two seconds flat, a huge smile overtaking every feature from her mouth to her eyes to her cheeks. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Is it?”

  Bree sat on a barstool and studied him. “Yes, love is wonderful. So what’s the problem?”

  “I’m not sure I should be with her.” He stared into his coffee mug. He hadn’t talked to Erin in several days, thinking that was the best thing for her. Wondering if she’d seen Dom and how that had gone if she had.

  “Why?” Bree asked, her tone void of condescendence or criticism. She’d always done that. Never belittled what he said or felt. Her concern always made it easier for him to talk about crap he didn’t want to talk about.

  “She’s too much like Jamie.”

  “She’s nothing like Jamie.”

  Troy narrowed his eyes. “She’s daring, bold, and there’s nothing she won’t do. She’s a rock climber, too, you know. And a bungee jumper and skydiver. You name it, she’ll do it. Just like Jamie was, she’s not afraid to take risks.”

  “And you’re afraid she’ll die on you?”

  A goddamn boulder twisted his stomach. His sister never beat around the bush. “Yes.”

  Bree stretched her arms across the granite countertop of the kitchen island and took his hands. “I get that. I do. But here’s the thing. There are no guarantees in life. You can’t be so worried about someone dying that you forget to live.” She took a steadying breath. “Jack didn’t take risks, Troy. He did everything by the book and he died. He didn’t rock climb or do anything dangerous. He got sick and he died.”

  “I’m sorry, Bree. So sorry.” He squeezed her hands.

  “
If I had known he was going to die, if there was some, I don’t know, looking glass that told me I’d lose him so soon, would I have given up marrying him? Not a chance. I loved him.”

  They’d talked about Jack, but he’d never thought about it in the way his sister had just laid out. He’d never looked at Jamie’s and Jack’s deaths as two sides of the same coin.

  “I may have also acted like a jerk.” Ignoring her after spending an incredible night in her bed was a douche move.

  “All men in love act like jerks. She probably found it endearing.”

  Troy rolled his eyes. “No one has ever made me feel the way she does, and that only makes things worse.”

  “Listen to me. Erin isn’t Jamie. They have extreme sports in common, but so do thousands of other women. It’s part of what makes Erin who she is, yes, but her actions are hers alone. You can’t compare what she’d do in a situation with what anyone else would do.”

  “You’re telling me to get over it. To let it go.”

  “Yes, because if you don’t, you’re going to be miserable. You’ll settle for someone you don’t love passionately enough and let the best thing that’s ever happened to you walk away.”

  He rubbed at his forehead. His sister was right. Erin turned his life upside down in the best possible way. She made him laugh. She was clever, strong, upbeat and imaginative. And she loved with a powerful combination of loyalty and pureness. He’d watched her with her family, her friends, and wanted to be on the receiving end of that adoration, too.

  You have been.

  “I should tell her.”

  Bree put her elbows on the counter and toyed with her gold wedding band. “A girl never minds hearing that a man loves her.”

  “Uncle Troy!” Amelia barreled into the kitchen wearing her princess pajamas and jumped onto his lap.

  He almost lost his balance on the barstool. “Hey, pumpkin.”

  “Did Mommy tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “We’re having a feast at school for Christmas and Hanukkah.”

  “Sounds like fun,” he said, his grip on her tightening as she wiggled.

  “And wanna guess who gets to come?”

  “Who?”

  “You and Mommy and Nana and Erin.”

  Troy looked at his sister. “Erin?” He felt dizzy. He knew Amelia liked Erin, and deep down he sensed Erin liked Amelia. But the incredibly warmhearted and precocious child in his lap gave 100 percent, and he worried about her being disappointed. It was one thing to risk his own heart, quite another to risk his niece’s.

  Bree gave a small smile. “She can’t stop talking about her, you know.”

  “My teacher says it’s okay.”

  “How about I ask her for you, then? She might have to work.”

  “Okay.” Amelia squeezed his nose with her chubby fingers and then Eskimo-kissed him.

  “Ames,” Troy’s mom called from another room. “Time to get dressed.”

  He released his hold and Amelia scurried off his lap.

  “Amelia?” he said, catching her before she disappeared out of the kitchen. She stopped and wheeled around. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too!” And then she was gone.

  “She’s pretty excited about us all being there,” Bree said, pulling his attention away from Amelia’s retreat.

  Us. A tiny word that held more meaning than he was sure Erin was ready for. More than he might be ready for. But most importantly, more than Amelia might be ready for. His niece was his number one girl. How would she feel if Erin took that spot?

  He stood. Hell if he knew the right thing to do. But there was one place he needed to go before he decided. “Thanks, sis.”

  She frowned and came around the kitchen island. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m here if you need me, you know. You’ve been my rock—our rock. Amelia and I would’ve been lost without you. You’ve put us first for a long time. I think it’s time you did something for you. And if there’s anything I can do to help, you know I will in a heartbeat.”

  He wrapped his sister in a hug and kissed the top of her head. “You just did. I love you.” He let go and headed toward the door. “Catch you later.”

  “Don’t be afraid to go after what you want,” she shouted after him. “And I love you back!”

  Fear had been a son of a bitch for a while now and Bree was right. It was time he stopped letting it make his decisions.

  After a shower, a shave, and dressing in nice slacks and a button-down, Troy passed through the iron gates of Cascade Mortuary and parked his truck. He hadn’t been back to the cemetery since the funeral, but today he needed to visit.

  He read each headstone or placard as he took his time walking up the small hill covered in dark-green grass. Bright-colored flowers decorated several spots. A few other mourners visited loved ones in the distance.

  A cold breeze combined with gray skies sent a chill through him and he lifted the collar of his jacket. Nothing helped the ache of loss tightening his chest, though.

  He stopped at his brother-in-law’s marker.

  “Hey, Jack. It’s been a while.” The wind picked up as if in answer, and Troy knelt.

  For several minutes he reflected back on times with Jack—the one-on-one basketball games, his bachelor party weekend in Vegas, fantasy football league, those first few days with Amelia. Then he wondered what it must have been like. To know the end was near, to look at the woman and child he loved and know his days were numbered.

  “I miss you,” he said. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about him. Hell, looking at Amelia it was hard not to see Jack. She had his coloring, his eyes, his expressions and mannerisms.

  The only thing she didn’t have was him.

  Troy shut his eyes. He’d do whatever he had to to spare her from any more hurt.

  His cell chirped and he pulled it out of his pocket. The text from Captain Sullivan quickened his pulse. His boss needed him for a rescue mission stat.

  …

  “She’s been stranded for well over six hours,” Captain Sullivan said. “Wedged between the rock for most of it. A large slab of granite cracked loose and took one person with it when he lost control of the rope. He’s in serious condition. Looks like his body shielded hers before he went down, and her helmet kept debris from striking her head.”

  Troy checked his gear, looked at Oliver. They stood atop Suicide Rock, one of the most dangerous mountain climbs in the country. Rain pelted them. Clouds meaner and darker than he’d seen in a while sneered at them. His first time back to rescue duty and Mother Nature shouts, Let’s see what you’re made of.

  “The third climber’s been knocked unconscious and is stranded on a ledge about seventy-five feet down,” Captain continued.

  Under the best weather conditions, belay accidents were common here. The jagged rock, narrow crevices, and multi-pitch routes kept most beginners away, but even the most advanced climbers got into trouble.

  Despite the cold temperature, sweat coated Troy’s back.

  In the distance, news vans, reporters, police cars, engines from a few different stations, and an ambulance reminded him the climbers were famous. A couple of world champion skiers who’d decided to skip the snowcaps today and come here instead.

  He and Oliver double-checked each other’s harnesses and other equipment. They’d already discussed the best anchoring method and attachment, the raising and lowering system, knot passes.

  Satisfied, Troy said, “Let’s do this.”

  Captain put his hand on Troy’s arm. “You good?” he asked through sheets of rain.

  “Yes.”

  They moved to the edge of the rock, he and Oliver fist-bumped and readied themselves to rappel down the mountain.

  He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. Fear climbed up the back of his spine, but he didn’t need to be his fear. Uncertainty was part of the gig and always had been. But Troy knew how to proceed. And he knew ke
eping his focus on the task would help keep his mind clear.

  Help him keep Jamie in the past.

  Erin flashed through his mind. He remembered every word she’d said to him during their therapy sessions and recalled them now. Her sexy voice in his ear was all he needed to forget the dizzying emptiness he saw between him and the ground more than a hundred feet below.

  Deep breaths helped, too. And communication with Oliver.

  Nothing mattered more to him at the moment than getting those climbers out alive.

  …

  Erin sat on her couch, Frito asleep in her lap, and clicked through the television channels. All caught up with The Amazing Race, she was leaning toward some Cupcake Wars next. The tapping of rain grew louder and she glanced at the droplets streaking down the window.

  “Two rock climbers stuck—”

  She lifted her finger off the remote and turned her head.

  “—in Suicide Rock have been identified as Cyn Phillips and Brody Smith.” A picture of the couple popped up in the corner of the screen. “Cyn and Brody have five world championships in downhill skiing between them, but today’s mountain is far different than what they’re used to. A third unidentified climber has been taken to Cascade General in serious condition. Rescue personnel are on the scene, but with the heavy rainfall, visibility is poor and their own safety at risk.”

  Troy.

  Erin jumped to her feet, Frito almost slipping off the couch before he found purchase on the edge of the cushion. Oh my God. Oh my God. She jogged in place. Was Troy there? Was he one of the rescue workers? She hadn’t talked to him since he’d left after spending the night with her. She’d gotten the feeling when he’d kissed her and said good-bye that he was conflicted. As confused as she was about where they went from here. Suddenly, the whole matchmaking thing had felt finished, though—because she’d found the perfect guy for her. Only Troy hadn’t seemed to realize he was it.

  Besides the blond hair, which really didn’t matter to her, he had everything on the list she’d made with Teague.

  Sense of humor. No one made her laugh the way he did.

  Compliment when it’s least expected. He’d said more nice things to her than any guy ever had. And he said them with sincerity each and every time, not just to win her over.