Page 4 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

TALON

“What the hell?” I exit my truck at the same time Rowan steps out of her SUV.

“Thought you may want some company,” she chirps, adjusting her sunglasses.

“You mean a babysitter?”

“I’m here for support. What if the session is intense and you need a ride home?”

“Babe, been in physical therapy before.”

“That was different.”

“Think I can handle it.”

“I don’t want you to handle it. If you’re in pain, you shouldn’t be alone.” Her lip quivers and voice cracks on the last word.

I step forward, raising her glasses. Her blue eyes are pooled with tears. It’s no wonder my best friend fell in love with this woman. Her eyes alone tell her story. Kind, beautiful, loving, selfless… and currently swimming in guilt.

This time my chest aches and protective instincts kick in. She has been through the fucking wringer and come out stronger than ever. And it didn’t pass without some scars. Mainly Rowan’s guilt.

Guilt she has no right to hold on to.

Ford was already protective, but now he’s a beast. And if he knew she was standing here in tears, he’d lose his mind.

“Hollywood, I’m good.”

Her mouth slips into a sad smile at the use of her nickname.

“Does Whitman know you’re here?”

“He will.”

“Meaning you didn’t tell him, but he’ll track your phone?”

“Something like that.”

“Then I have to deal with his cranky ass bitching because he realizes you love me more?”

This earns me a genuine smile. “He’ll get over it.” She wiggles her ring finger.

“Get to your salon and save us both the headache.”

She peeks over her shoulder at the building and then back at me. “Since I’m here, might as well get you checked in.” Without waiting for my reply, she loops her hand through my elbow and jerks me forward.

“Does anyone ever tell you no?”

“All the time. Yesterday, Cruz was critical of every idea I mentioned.”

Cruz is a relatively new addition to our group. Rowan lived with him and his partner, Alex, for a brief time before Ford convinced her to move into the house with us.

Cruz and his cousin, Ember, own an upscale formalwear store in town. Ember is creating a custom wedding dress for Rowan, and Cruz has taken the unofficial role as the wedding planner.

Outside of a small business owner, he’s also a lawyer. From tuxedos to contracts, Cruz’s expertise is limitless.

“What ideas?”

“Plunging necklines, high slits, things like that.”

“Do I want to know?”

“I found a beautiful bridesmaid’s dress, but he said the neckline was too deep for Jewls to wear because of the size of her breasts after the twins.

He also said Harley would pop out and he didn’t want to deal with Ace’s barbarian tantrum.

The other dress had a slit on the side that was sexy but tasteful.

At this option, he declared he didn’t want to deal with every man’s wrath. ”

I barely hear her over the ringing in my ears after Jewls’ breast comment. “I didn’t want to know.”

She laughs, stepping aside so I can open the door, but still keeps a hold on me.

“You gonna let me go so I can check in?”

“Yep, I’ll wait here.” She drops her arm and looks around. “Is this the same place as before?”

“Same group, different location.”

I leave her, going to the registration desk and immediately noting the way the woman eyes me as I approach.

“Talon Simms,” I announce, fishing my license and insurance card out of my wallet for her.

She takes them, continuing to gape until the girl next to her nudges her arm. Heat fills her cheeks as she fumbles to scan the cards and read through her screen. “I-i-is your address the same?”

“Yes.”

“Phone number?”

“Yes.”

“How about emergency contact? Should I add your wife? Girlfriend?” Her gaze darts to Rowan.

“Darlin’, I completed the pre-registration information online. Everything is accurate.”

At the term of endearment, her eyes flare and she chews on her bottom lip. “Here you go, Mr. Simms.”

I take my cards, going back to Rowan who’s grinning like a loon. “You can’t help it.”

“Help what?”

“That girl stuttering over herself.”

“I have that effect on most women. This one’s a little young for me though.”

“Such a playboy.”

“I prefer the term lover.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Seriously, I’m all checked in like a good boy. You can stop your mothering and get to the salon before Ford rolls up and makes a scene.”

Her smile falters. “I’m already here. Maybe I should go back with you.”

As much as I adore her, this woman is driving me nuts.

“How about I stop by the salon on my way home with a full report.”

She seems to think about it and finally nods. “Okay.”

I lean in, kiss her cheek, and gently prod her toward the door.

A young guy walks out, calling my name, and I hold up a finger until Rowan’s SUV is out of sight.

We go down a hallway until it opens into a huge room loaded with equipment and machines. With my history, I can tell you what most everything in this room is for.

A guy in a knee brace is working on leg extensions, his face a mask of uncomfortable determination as he pushes through.

“Tough kid, shame what happened to him,” my escort states, shaking his head. I’m about to ask more when the guy faces my way.

“Is that Mansfield?”

“Yes.”

“Shit. Saw that game.”

A phantom pain shoots down my leg, thinking about the scene on the court.

This kid is a rising star who had every NBA scout drooling over him.

Rumor has it he is as brilliant as he is talented.

Wooed by all the colleges to play basketball and stayed close to family, signing with Vanderbilt.

He got a full ride, taking the team to the top.

In one second, it all changed when an opposing player took a dirty move, causing Mansfield to go down.

A riot broke out on the court after he was carted off.

A while later, the team confirmed he was out for the rest of the season and was in surgery for his knee, his future unclear.

The other player was suspended and the NCAA is conducting a review.

“He had the potential. The whole city was rooting for him.”

“They still are. He’ll make a comeback.”

“I like your perspective. You keep that attitude, Wills will have you fixed up in no time.”

“Dr. Koch out today?”

“He got called away. Wills took his patients.”

My skin prickles and body goes on alert, the name sinking in.

“Wills?” I repeat, making sure I didn’t hear him wrong.

The guy glances back at the folder in his hand. “Your PT.”

A shrill sound echoes through the room. It’s a mix between a squeal and a squeak. Mansfield is now sitting up and smiling at a woman in purple scrubs.

A sense of familiarity glides through me when the woman pivots and her profile is in full view.

Wills.

Otherwise known as Willow Mara Richards.

The woman I haven’t stopped thinking about since she ran out of the bar over a week ago.

The background I ran listed her as a twenty-six-year-old graduate student with a clean record.

Her long dark hair is pulled back and make-up is much softer, but there’s no mistaking she’s the shy beauty from Tom’s. She skips in a circle, pumping her arms while repeating something that sounds like a victory chant.

My eyes roam over her, taking in the full view. Her scrubs hang loose, but I remember clearly the curves and lines of her body. She high-fives Mansfield, who seems to be in a trance by her.

“This is going to be fun.”

I tear my eyes to the guy who’s still standing next to me. “Fun?”

“You aren’t the first man in here to have that reaction.” He jerks his chin at the woman who is now helping Mansfield to his feet.

“That’s Wills? My PT?” I play it off to be sure and hide the fact that I’m mentally forming a plan.

“The one and only. She’s quite popular. But fair warning, she’s a ballbuster.”

God must love me.

“Is that so?”

Another woman in black scrubs approaches them, her eyes locking with mine for a split second before they grow wide. It’s the petite blonde from the bar. She whispers something and Wills turns my way, her green gaze filling with shock and panic.

I hold back my grin as she looks like a deer in headlights.

“You’re right, this is going to be fun.”

“Why do I feel like I’m on the outside of a private joke?”

“Nothing private about it.” I slap him on the shoulder. “How about introducing me to my new PT?”

“She’s a fill-in. We’re all in clinicals.”

“We’ll see.”

He shakes his head. “Pity the man. She’ll let you down easy because that’s her style.”

“Made it through a few wars. Think I can handle the princess.”

“Good God, man! Don’t let her hear you call her that.”

I chuckle, watching as she slowly comes our way.

My cock stirs at the way her hips sway with each step of her approach. She’s veiled her shock with indifference. “Is this some kind of prank?”

“More like a hell of a coincidence. It’s my lucky day.”

“Lucas, is this my patient?” She addresses him, avoiding direct eye contact.

“This is Talon Simms.” He hands over my folder. She glances through it, ruffling the pages with slightly shaky fingers. “Shoulder injury?”

“Something like that,” I answer.

“Reoccurring?”

“Two separate incidences. One occupational, one sports related.”

“Occupational?” She spares me a quick glance. “Dr. Koch released you three weeks ago.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty pissed.”

“I doubt that. The man is even-keeled.”

“You didn’t hear him when I called.”

“Maybe you should have taken your rehabilitation with him more seriously,” she snipes. “You’re fortunate he chose to work with you again.”

My cock comes fully alive. Who knew fire and ice would be my kryptonite?

“Wills,” her friend rumbles, kicking her foot.

This seems to snap her back into place and she straightens her shoulders, shutting the folder. “That was uncalled for. I’m Willow Richards. I’ll be working with you today.”

“Sounds good. Should I call you Doc?”

“Not until after I complete the DPT program. For now, you can call me Willow.”

“Maybe we should let them get started.” The woman pulls on Lucas to leave, snatching my file. When she’s behind Willow, she flashes me a thumbs up and mouths ‘good luck’.