“Uh huh.” She eyed him with exasperated amusement. “Tell me. How often does that sexy swagger and smile, and then the ‘I have a better way to burn off steam’ line get you laid?”
He laughed. “Look, I’m not trying to—” At her long look, he grinned. “Okay, I’m a guy, and therefore, by default, am always interested in getting laid, but that wasn’t my ulterior motive.”
“What was?”
“Getting rid of that stick up your ass.”
“Excuse me?” She sputtered, then at a loss, laughed in disbelief.
“Look, you were saying you have an image problem here in Wishful, and I think I can help you.”
“By loosening me up.”
“By teaching you how to smell the roses. I’m a giver that way. Come on, Emma. Unless…you’re too chicken?”
Chapter 11
Oh, wasn’t he funny, Emma thought. And somehow…charming. And sharp. And he had a bad boy truck, and hell. Deep down, somewhere she didn’t like to visit too often, she had a fantasy about a guy. Not another uptight doctor guy. Not a white-collared professional of any kind.
But a guy in a bad boy truck.
She wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. “I’m not chicken.” She swiped her damp forehead and looked at her watch. “You have thirty minutes.”
“You can’t put a time limit on relaxing.”
“Try.”
He smiled, promising no such thing, and drove her to Moody’s.
Emma stared at the bar and grill. “You going to get me drunk?”
He shot her a look as he parked. “First of all, I never get a woman drunk on the first date.”
“Why, because she doesn’t remember you the next day?”
“No, because I don’t like to clean up puke. And second, I was going to feed you food, not alcohol. Moody’s has great burgers.”
They got out of the truck and when he took her hand, she looked at him. “This isn’t a first date.”
“What is it?”Since she wasn’t quite sure, she didn’t answer. They walked into the place, and immediately a handful of people waved at Stone. “You’re popular,” she said.
“Yes, and if you smile, you too can be one of the cool kids.”
Okay, so she was holding herself tense, and she definitely wasn’t smiling.
The place wasn’t bad. It was done up Old Western style, with the bar itself a series of refurbished barn doors laid on their sides. The front room was filled with tables for dining, the back room held the pool tables, dart boards, and an area for dancing to the music blaring from the largest juke box she’d ever seen. There were huge antlers hanging on the wall, along with lassoes and brass light fixtures, casting an old-fashioned sort of glow over everyone.
They ordered burgers and fries, and by the time they were done, the place had filled. Stone brought her into the back, to a pool table where Annie, Nick and TJ were playing a rather intense game. Annie came around the table and shoved Stone very affectionately in the shoulder. He stumbled back a step, grinned, and kissed her on the cheek. She softened and hugged him tight.
TJ gave Stone a friendly shove as well, and nodded to Emma. “Hey, Doc. I’m kicking Nick’s ass here. I can kick yours when I’m done if you’d like.”
Stone turned to Emma. “He likes to think he’s the best.”
Emma smiled. “And is he?”
“Hell, no. That would be me.”
“You wish, man.” TJ turned to the bar. Serena was there with another woman, sipping something that looked cool and delicious, the two of them watching the pool game with inscrutable expressions. “Hey, Serena, Harley,” TJ said. “You know Dr. Emma Sinclair?”
“Aw, look at that.” Serena nudged the woman with her. “You said he didn’t have any manners.”
“No.” Harley pulled off her knit cap, revealing short, spiky blond hair that framed a beautiful face that didn’t quite go with the coveralls she wore. “I said he didn’t have any feelings.”
Annie laughed. “Good one,” she said, and rubbed her husband’s back when he looked at her with a raised brow. “Harley and the guys went to school together,” she explained to Emma.
Emma was guessing that they’d more than gone to school together, at least in TJ’s and Harley’s case, and not a good one, as evidenced by the dirty look Harley gave TJ, and the way he pretended to ignore it. He leaned in with his pool cue and took a shot, sending the ball into a middle pocket.
Unimpressed, Harley made a sound that might have been a tire going flat.
TJ straightened and looked at her. “You have something to say?”
Harley’s eyes were cool as ice as the air around them tightened with tension. “Maybe that’s my question to you.”
“Nope.” He lifted a shoulder. “I have a clear conscience.”
“A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.”
“Okay, kids, off to your own corners.” Stone smoothly stepped between them. “I’m thirsty. I’m having a beer, and then I’m going to show the good doctor how to play pool. Who else wants a drink?” He looked around, nodding with a question in his eyes at Emma.
“Whatever you’re having,” she said, and earned herself a warm, slow as molasses smile.
Just like that, the mood around them lightened again. Nick slung an arm around Annie. Annie patted the stool next to her for Emma.