Page 5 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Willow pinches the bridge of her nose.

“I thought the same thing when I spotted you. What are the chances? You ghost me and here you are?”

“I didn’t ghost you! It was time to leave.”

“You could have at least answered my question.”

“What was the question?”

“When I asked your name.”

“There was no need. Everything was so… weird.”

“Tell yourself that.”

“Let’s get this out of the way so we can have a session without the awkwardness.”

“It’s not awkward to me. I consider it opportune.”

Her cheeks flush, a splotch creeping down her neck. “I’ve never made out with a stranger in public before in my life. That night was very out of character for me.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate? Do you make it a habit of kissing strangers in bars?”

“Never did it before, but also hadn’t been propositioned by a gorgeous woman in need.”

“I wasn’t in need. And I didn’t proposition you. My friend lost her mind.”

“A thank you will suffice.”

“Thank you? For what?”

“For saving your ass.”

“I can handle my ass just fine!” she whisper-hisses.

I bend to the side and take in the view. “Yes, looks like you handle it fine.”

Her eyes flame, transforming into a deadly glare.

“I am teasing. It was a kiss. Nothing needs to be awkward.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“All part of my charm.”

Her face goes to the ceiling as she huffs out a breath. “Let’s get to work before I do something that blows the last seven years of schooling up and I lose my job.”

There’s a hitch in her voice that kills all my playfulness. “Hey, seriously, I’m kidding around.”

“Can we keep this professional?”

“Scout’s honor.” I give the triple-finger solute.

“Were you a scout?”

“Better. I’m a Marine.”

“Good God, this keeps getting better and better. Police and military. A real thrill chaser.”

“Thrill is my middle name.”

This gets me a sliver of a smile. She steps in, reaching up to my shoulder. “Let’s get a feel for what I’m working with.”

Even on her tiptoes, she’s considerably shorter. I sink into the chair to give her a better position.

“I’m not that short.”

“I was tired of standing.”

She knows I’m full of shit and moves beside me. Her mouth cinches in concentration, her fingers pressing and prodding the area.

“Tell me what happened?”

“I knocked a home run out of the park and tweaked it on the home plate.”

“That’s how you hurt it? When you slid?”

“You saw it?”

“Bits and pieces. I was at the game with friends.”

“So, you know I won the game.”

“I know you hit a home run that clinched the win. Why you still slid into the home base is beyond me.”

“It’s all about the big finish.”

“You mean it’s all about grandstanding.”

“Not grandstanding if you can back it up.”

“Men are so silly.” She catches the joint at the wrong angle and I withdraw.

Her pressure eases off, and her hand goes to my neckline. “I need to feel the nerve reaction. Do you mind?”

I refrain from telling her she can feel any part of me she wants and just nod. The instant her fingers dip into the socket area, I hiss at the zing of pain that radiates through my shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

“Sorry, you really tweaked it. What was your initial injury?”

“Dislocated it.”

“Hmmm,” she hums, continuing to prompt. “That’s painful.”

“I survived.”

“Dislocated shoulder must have put you out of commission for a while at work.”

“You could say that.” As well as a punctured lung and a list of other injuries. I don’t mention these, knowing the motherfucker responsible and the details are mostly classified. Bringing down a domestic smuggling operation made the news. Our involvement was a special assignment.

We were the silent operatives working with a specialized group.

Until someone came after Rowan.

Then it became a different sort of mission.

“Mr. Simms, breathe through it.”

I break out of my thoughts, realizing Willow is now resting her fingers against my pulse point with a troubled expression. “Your heart rate is elevated. Breathe through the pain.”

I should correct her, but that could lead to questions. Instead, I say, “Call me Talon.”

She studies me, her concern fading. “Talon, think you’re up to some exercises?”

The coaxing in her voice reminds me of my mom when I was a boy. “You have me for the hour.”

“We don’t want to overdo it.”

My pride gets the best of me, not willing to let this woman think I’m a pussy. “Babe, that wasn’t pain that sent my pulse racing. Pretty sure it was the fact your hands are roaming all over me. A little more and there’d be a whole different reaction.”

Her skin flames again. “Mr. Simms?—”

“Talon.”

“Talon, this is my job. And well…”

“Well, what?”

“I just… this is my job.”

“Heard that the first time.” I can’t stop my grin.

“What happened to scouts honor?”

“Keeping it real, babe. Get used to it.”

“For some reason, I highly doubt you talked like this to Dr. Koch.”

“Dr. Koch isn’t a gorgeous woman who I happen to know tastes like peaches and kisses like she was made for me.”

I’m pushing hard, but fuck if I don’t enjoy seeing her flustered.

There’s a flicker of heat in her gaze before it switches to a mix of disbelief and irritation.

Without responding, she walks away, coming back a minute later rolling a cart with weights and kettlebells.

It’s been a long time since I worked with free weights.

In the last few months with Dr. Koch, we skipped the basics on my insistence.

“We doing the kiddie exercises today?”

She purses her lips. “Standard initial discovery. New injury, new protocol.”

“I can respect that, but I can handle much more.”

“Humor me, tough guy.”

I resist the urge to argue that this is a waste of time. For the next forty-five minutes, she guides me through exercises, constantly measuring my range of motion. With each rep, she increases the weights.

Before the incident in December, I could bench press over two-hundred-and-fifty pounds without a thought. But fuck if I’m not feeling this as sweat trickles down my neck.

“That’s enough for today.” She eases my elbow down from the extension.

I bite the inside of my cheek at the throbbing in my shoulder. Her lips curl at the slight twitch in my arm.

“Something amusing?”

“Hmmm.”

“You enjoying this?”

“Kiddie exercises kicked your butt.”

“Take a lot more than that.”

“I’ll remember that.”

She bends to load the cart and my eyes zone in on her ass. “Eyes off my ass, Mr. Simms.”

“Just making sure you didn’t need help with the cart.”

“You able to control your reaction if I assess the muscles before you leave?” She points to my shoulder. “Or should I ask Lucas to come back?”

“Want me to take my shirt off to help you out?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

She eases her hand under the collar of my shirt. I close my eyes, enjoying the softness of her hand gently massaging. The ache eases with each rotation.

“You’ve got a way with your hands. Can’t say Koch ever did this.”

“Different techniques.”

“I can get used to this.”

There’s a beat of silence before she speaks low. “It was the vodka. I was drinking peach-infused vodka.”

“Drink of choice?”

“On occasion. Not many bars carry it. I was surprised Tom’s had it.”

“Why? Because it’s a blue bar?”

“Didn’t know it was a blue bar before we went in. My friend Bex picked the place.”

“The pretty blonde?”

Her pressure increases on my joint. “That’s her. She’s single.”

“Any reason you’re letting me know that?”

“You obviously noticed she’s pretty. Most men would want to know she’s single.”

“I’m not most men. Plus, I’m partial to brunettes.”

“Does that line work?”

“Go out with me tonight and I’ll tell you.”

“You’re a natural flirt.”

“All part of my charm.”

“Your charm is wasted here.”

“Because you don’t date cops?”

“Something like that.”

“Maybe I can change your mind.”

“Doubtful. And now you’re my patient. Your efforts are useless.”

“Oh, firefly, you have issued a challenge.”

She veers off the area and freezes when her fingers come into contact with the scarred skin covering my pec.

My body tenses and she yanks her hand out of my shirt. Her coloring has paled and eyes clouded over.

“How did you say you injured yourself?”

“Occupational mishap.”

“Mishap?” The question is loaded with skepticism.

The night in the bar flashes in my mind. The way she closed down and bolted when she discovered I was a cop. There’s something behind that look that settles uneasily in my gut. It’s more than apprehension; it’s fear.

“What kind of mishap leaves welts and scars on your skin?” All light-heartedness is gone as she shuts down.

“Willow—” I stop, not sure exactly what to say.

“Forget I asked. It’s not in your file so it’s obviously irrelevant to your rehab treatment plan. Which makes it none of my business.”

“Willow—”

She cuts me off. “I’ll let Koch know about our session. You did well. He’ll return on Wednesday.”

It’s clear I’ve been dismissed when she wheels the cart away without another word.

My phone dings and I hold in my groan when I check the message.

Ford

You almost fucking done?

I glance around for Willow, not finding her, Bex, or Lucas anywhere.

Ford is waiting with a scowl when I hit the waiting room.

“Took you for fucking ever,” he grouses.

“No one asked you to come supervise.”

“Try and tell Rowan that.”

“Get your woman under control.”

He balks as if I’ve hit him, his facial expression going hard. “You fucking high?”

It was a dick thing to say. Even if it’s partially true. She may be overbearing, but her heart is in the right place.

“What crawled up your ass?”

I ignore him, heading for the door.

“Oh, shit. Is that the woman from the bar?”

I twist to see Willow talking to the receptionist. Her eyes meet before her attention goes back to the papers in her hand. Even in the brief second, I caught the flicker of heat between us.

“Yeah, it’s her.”

“Tell me you at least got her name this time.” Ford’s tone is laced with amusement.

“Yeah, I got her name.”

“Makes sense now. Your grumpy ass got shot down, again.”

Goddammit, the last thing I need is to take his shit. I should learn to keep my mouth shut.

He has no idea I had her name within an hour of her leaving Tom’s. DMV record was easy but I was sitting on the information. The woman obviously had hang-ups about my job.

It was one fucking kiss.

But it wasn’t. It was the way I was drawn to her at first glance.

The way she felt in my arms.

It was an awakening and I’d been holding back.

Not anymore.