This was her dream, running her own experiments on a large scale to prove the efficacy of chiropractic manipulation in every way imaginable, and she was ecstatic. There had been months of prep. Long days filled with painstakingly scrutinizing the details of each and every experiment to ensure the tests would render valid results. However, the two days since Sierra’s visit had passed in a blur.
While the many projects she had going continued on task, her ability to focus on analyzing the results had been virtually non-existent, resulting in scattered stacks across her usually neat and tidy desk. If she was being honest, she found her lack of productivity irritating, unprofessional, and extremely out of character. Still, she surrendered to a smile as her thoughts drifted to her upcoming appointment with her newest participant.
Aside from getting to spend time with Sierra this week, the only thing that had pleased her had been her ability to make it through their Monday meeting without staring at the other woman’s breasts the entire time. If she hadn’t already known Sierra was prone to flaunting her form, she would have sworn it had been a challenge. While she may not have aced that test, she had definitely managed a solid B+. She laughed at the thought. Never in her life had she been proud of a B+, yet this seemed like a monumental achievement.
Not a moment later, her smile faltered. One single word had circulated through her consciousness for the last two days. Vanilla. That was the way Ronni perceived her. And the way it was used, as if it were some kind of deficiency that Ronni took pity on, had been grating her to no end. What made it even more aggravating was that she cared.
As she rounded the final corner, she shook her head to purge the negative thoughts. With her office door in sight, she took a sip of tea, hoping the calming properties of soothing heat would quiet her mind and allow her to get some much-needed work done.
No such luck.
Kara had never been one to concern herself with other people’s perception of her. She had been called cold, boring, workaholic, uptight, and most anything else along those lines. Oh yes, she was acutely aware of what others thought of her, but none of that had ever been as important to her as the satisfaction she received from her from work. She wouldn’t be where she was today professionally, had she given in to the demands of her previous girlfriends to “live a little.”
So why did it bother her now?
That answer escaped her keen diagnostic abilities at the moment. There was something about Sierra Cody that stirred her from within, and not just her sex drive. The woman dominated her thoughts and challenged her to step outside her comfort zone. But did Sierra also think of her as vanilla?
Slipping into her large leather office chair, she stared at the stack of files on her desk. Her brow furrowed in thought. Clearly, Sierra was used to associating with more colorful people, but just because Kara enjoyed working, didn’t mean she never let loose.
Her lips curled into a devious grin as a thought came to mind. At breakfast Saturday, Sierra and Ronni would get to see a whole other side of Dr. Kara Davies—one that has not come out to play in far too long.
“Vanilla,” she scoffed. “I’ll show you.”
“Dr. Davies? Ms. Cody is here for her appointment,” Christie announced over the intercom.
Kara flinched at the verbal intrusion, spilling tea onto her desk. Shit! Thankfully, it had missed her reports. “Thank you. I’ll be right there,” she replied and then quickly jumped into action wiping up her mess.
Once she was sure she had gotten it all, she tidied the papers, arranging them back into the orderly piles to which she was accustomed. The simple feat helped her regain some semblance of control. This was a professional visit after all, and Kara wanted…No. She needed to maintain her poise in the presence of Sierra.
She rose from her chair and walked to the door, taking one last look around before grabbing her white lab coat and slipping it on with care. The cotton garment was more than a designation of rank, so to speak. Sure, the navy embroidered name on the upper left told everyone she was a doctor, but it was more like her superhero cape. The lab coat represented Kara in her element—calm, composed, and in control. In the coat, she made a difference. Her choices were sound. The coat was how she wished she could live her entire life, personal and professional, but her life out of the coat lacked control.
Her personal life was messy, a continuous string of missteps that she seemed doomed to repeat. She had hurt people, unintentionally so, but pain had been caused nonetheless by her insistence on choosing the life in her coat over all others. Today would be no different.
A deep breath fortified her for the day ahead. Before stepping out, she made a stop at the mirror. First, she looked over her slacks, then her hair, and finally, her lab coat, whose collar she adjusted until it was perfect. Now she was ready. Dr. Kara Davies was prepared to take on the world.
As Kara reached the edge of the lobby, her steps slowed. Sierra was a sight to behold, quietly thumbing through Outdoor magazine, bathed in the late morning sunlight falling through the large glass pane windows. The bright blue long-sleeved shirt clung to her breasts and her well-tanned, muscular legs filled out the cuffs of her black baggy riding shorts. She was clearly uninterested in reading, but rather using the glossy pages as a shield from the receptionist’s insistent stares.
If Kara’s lab coat made her feel like a superhero, then Sierra was proving to be her kryptonite, stripping away her powers of levelheaded professionalism and leaving her helplessly swinging on a pendulum of emotions. The blood coursing through Kara’s veins grew hotter and hotter. She thrust her hands into her jacket pockets, hiding them from the world as they balled into tight fists. Staring at the receptionist, her lips curled into a sneer. Christie’s behavior was going to end right now.
There was a fine line between exerting her professional authority and bringing personal issues into the ring, but in this case, the receptionist had pushed both boundaries. Kara’s legs carried her quickly toward Sierra. The steely glare she threw Christie on the way past was deadly enough to make the woman recoil and bury her head behind her computer screen. Kara held her laser-like focus on the woman, begging her to lift her eyes once more, but she didn’t dare.
Satisfied her point had been made, Kara refrained from uttering a word and instead, veered left toward Sierra. Coming to a stop three feet away, she stood in silence as her mind stumbled through an array of possible greetings. A simple, “Good morning. Nice to see you again,” would have sufficed, but no words came out. Instead, she basked in the beauty of the woman, as if standing before the Mona Lisa for the first time.
Sierra peeled her eyes from the behind the safety of the magazine, looking up with blazing eyes and a smile as blinding as ever. Kara’s tensed muscles released their hold, relaxing the stern frown that had fixed itself upon her lips, freeing them to assume a more pleasant form. Her entire body seemed to smile from the inside out.
“So nice to see you again, Doctor Davies.” Her hair was different—a touch shorter, darker, and no longer streaked with red.
Kara took a moment to admire the new look and decided it suited Sierra nicely. Finally, she regained her senses, cleared her throat, and returned the greeting. “Nice to see you as well, Sierra.” With her hands still buried in her pockets, she motioned her head back toward the corridor and asked, “Shall we?”
Sierra nodded and rose to her feet, pausing a moment to stretch her legs before taking stride. She brushed lightly against Kara’s shoulder as she passed, then glanced back over her shoulder with a wicked grin, clearly pleased with herself. When she reached the first hallway, she stopped and turned around.
With Sierra’s expectant gaze upon her, Kara realized she had not yet taken a step. Worse yet, her jaw was slack, her lips partially agape, and her mind void of thought. A rush of embarrassment swept through her at having been caught in Sierra’s thrall. Composure. She needed some stat.
Kara took a deep breath and shoved her shoulders back as she finally moved forward.
Her body willed itself to pass within Sierra’s orbit, the gravitational pull between them too strong for Kara to fight. She would have to do a hell of a lot better than that if she was going to stay focused on work.
It was going to be a long day.
***
Sierra sat quietly as a lab tech took her vitals. The young man with a buzz cut and dark glasses was quick and methodical about his work. Her gaze drifted across the room to the doctor diligently setting up shop. Wires, computers, a mountain bike on a stand, and an adjusting table like the one from the clinic, had her curious as to how this would all work. Mostly, her questions revolved around the woman in the pressed lab jacket secured around her torso like a coat of armor. Much to her dismay, not many words had been exchanged as they made their way from the waiting room to the lab. She had also noted the distance Kara maintained as they navigated the long halls.
Had she overstepped her bounds? This was Kara’s workplace after all.
“All done here, Doctor Davies,” the lab tech called out as he unwrapped the blood pressure cuff from Sierra’s arm.
“Great. Just need one more minute,” Kara replied over her shoulder, her eyes glued to a computer screen as she typed at a feverish pace.
The longer Kara typed, the wider Sierra’s smile grew as inappropriate thoughts clouded her mind. Damn, look at those fingers go! And I already know she’s good with her hands.
“Ms. Cody?” The lab tech tapped her on the shoulder.
The firm contact was enough to pull her from her musing. Having lost track of time and space, she glanced around in confusion and mumbled, “Huh?”
“The doctor is waiting on you. You all right?” An analytic eye scoured her blank expression for answers.
“Oh. Right. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” Catching a gleam in Kara’s eye, she knew she had been caught staring yet again. There was no point in making excuses, so she dropped her head, fought a grin, and ambled over to the testing area. How was it that Dr. Kara Davies had so easily taken up residence in her mind—a place that had previously allowed only the singular idea of winning a championship? The sudden change in thought process was sure to have negative effects on her performance, but she was helpless to change a thing.
“Do you think you’ll be able to concentrate on the tests, Ms. Cody, or are you still experiencing the lingering effects of hitting that tree?” Kara managed to keep her snicker to a minimum, but her smug grin was on proud display.
“Ha ha. I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, Doctor.” If it had been anyone else, Sierra would have let her hot head prevail over a comment like that, but she enjoyed the playfulness. The back and forth between them had been hot and cold. When it was hot, she would take all she could get.
Kara’s smugness faded into an easy smile as she motioned to the bike. “Very well, then. If you’ll climb onto the bike, we can get it fitted for you.”
“Sure. How’s this going to work?”
“Once you’re all set, you’ll put on the virtual headset and I’ll attach a few electrodes to your body. A video of a downhill course will play and you’ll ride as if it were a real race, responding to what you see. Your goal is to get the best time possible.”
“Then what?”
“We’ll adjust a specific region of your spine and run a new race, comparing reaction times and the force of muscle output in your legs. We will do this over the course of eight sessions, as your schedule allows.”
“And this will help me?”
“That’s my hypothesis, but I can’t promise you how much it will affect this season. It will take a few sessions to get a baseline of how you respond. Then we learn from that. Also, I have to complete the eight sessions without deviation, or else it will invalidate the results. But after that, we are free to experiment with other possibilities. Any other questions?”
“No. I don’t think so. At least, not right now.”
“Okay, but feel free to ask if one comes up. I want open communication between us. Also, let me know if the virtual reality makes you feel woozy. I don’t want that to affect your times. You ready?”
“Every second of my life. Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Saturday morning, Kara slipped one foot into her black leather Dainese riding pants, then the other, and then pulled them up—a tricky thing to do when you were sweating like crazy. Nerves had gotten the better of her somewhere around the time she had pulled up to her house in Eugene last night. It had been a quick in-and-out stop, grabbing clothes, loading her black and gray Ducati Corse 1199 Panigale onto her bike trailer, and then hitching it to her Grand Cherokee. She was gone in less than half an hour, not even stopping by to see her best friend and business partner, Nicole. That had not been one of her smarter moves. Nicole would have been the voice of reason reminding her why this was a bad idea. Or not. More likely, Nicole would’ve encouraged her.
There were so many little reasons why Kara should strip off her riding pants, put on her khakis, and go back to the lab. So many…not to mention one really big one. She needed to grow a pair and deal with that sooner than later, but burying herself in work was so much easier. At least it had been, until she met Sierra. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to say no to the woman, even though she knew she would only end up hurting her. Work would always win in the end.
Kara picked up her phone and mulled over a quick call to Nicole, but the idea of cancelling on Sierra made her chest tighten, resisting expansion as if someone had screwed a vise down onto her sternum. She could practically see the sadness in those damned expressive eyes.
“Dammit,” she muttered and tossed the phone back on her bed. She fastened her pants button and patted herself on the back for having kept such a strict diet and workout regimen. She hadn’t worn the pants in two years, but they still fit perfectly. Black riding boots and her black leather and fabric jacket were next. Finally, she made her way to the mirror and smiled. Kara missed this. Not only had she lost girlfriends to work, but she had lost riding as well. This was one thing she would have to get back to, starting right now.
With her backpack fastened in place, she walked out the door of her Bend apartment—a perk from her job—and stared at her bike. She had kept it well maintained and had run it around the block here and there, but today, she was going to let her Ducati stretch its legs.
“Let’s do this,” she said and then swung her leg over her bike. The engine turned easily. The soft purr brought a smile to Kara’s lips as a deep satisfaction filled her. Yes, she had missed this—a lot. Her hand slid down to the fuel tank, lightly caressing the paint as if taming a feral cat. “Time to let you run wild.”
***
The parking lot at Viv’s was nearly full when Sierra pulled in on her old-school, flame painted, 1947 Harley Knucklehead chopper with straight pipes and a bitch seat. She was dressed to impress a certain doctor, wearing her favorite low cut black leather vest with matching jacket and chaps over her tight black pants and boots. If this look didn’t have Kara doing a triple take, then she’d be severely disappointed.
No sooner had Sierra dismounted before Ronni roared in on her custom-painted pink and black Suzuki Hayabusa sport bike, taking the spot beside her. She removed her pink helmet adorned with a black mohawk and shook out her freshly-dyed platinum blonde hair. As usual, her attire matched her bike, with a pink riding jacket, white tank top, black leather riding pants, and tall lace up boots with black and pink laces.
Ronni chomped on her gum, appearing uninterested in her surroundings. “I bet she shows up in something pressed,” she spouted out of the blue. “There is no way anyone that uptight is going to ride on the back of a motorcycle and get her pants creased.”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” Sierra replied, trying to stymie the possibility of disappointment. “But I can’t help feeling there’s something else to her. All I do know is that she is delicious when she is in doctor mode.” Just the mere thought brought a wide smile to her face.
&nbs
p; “Who we talking about, ladies?” Randy Burns, an old friend and fellow rider on the men’s downhill tour, intervened. The thirty-something year old with scraggly red hair and a deep voice was known as “the old man” of the group and joined them from time to time on a ride.
Ronni piped up teasingly, “Sierra’s in love with the new clinic chiropractor, Doctor Kara Davies.”
Sierra huffed, her hands moved to her hips as she challenged, “I’m not in love with her. I just think she’s interesting.”
“Don’t forget ‘delicious,’” Ronni added with air quotes and an eye roll. “She actually said that, Randy.”
“Yes, she is. She is delicious and the way she recites all that medical jargon is as sexy as…well, as sexy as speaking a foreign language.” She drifted off with a goofy grin.
“It is a foreign language. Its Latin,” Randy returned matter-of-factly, causing Ronni to snort with laughter.
“See? Sexy.” Sierra smiled and smacked Ronni on the shoulder. “Besides, you love her too since she fed you and let you play video games all day.”
“Love? Sure. The woman gave me of my two favorite things in life, and I must admit, it was kinda cool of her. But in love? No. That, my dear, is you going all googly eyes every time you see her.”
Sierra crossed her arms and pouted, unable to deny her best friend’s assessment, although it was far too early to say she had feelings for Kara. She was merely a smitten kitten.
“Well, ain’t that something now? Ole ‘never to be tamed’ Wiley is into the domesticated, uptight doctor type. That explains why you haven’t taken me up on any of my generous offers. I’m not straight laced enough for you,” Randy teased.
“I’m sorry to inform you that there are plenty of reasons why I’ve not accepted any of your offers, only one of which is that you’re a dude. Besides, there is nothing straight about Kara,” Sierra smirked. “Can you all give her a chance, please?”
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