Crash & Carnage by Emma Slate

Chapter 8

We finished our pies—thebanana cream was the winner in my book. Pinky’s had begun to fill up, and another bartender hopped onto the floor to help Freddy.

I looked at my watch. “Holy hell. It’s nine p.m.”

“Still early,” Boxer said with a grin.

“Not for someone who gets up every day at four in the morning,” I quipped. “Whether or not I have to work.”

“You get up at four in the morning. I don’t even go to bed until then.”

“You must work odd hours.”

“I don’t work.”

I blinked.

“I’m just kidding,” he said with a laugh. “I work at Charlie’s Motorcycle Repair shop.”

“So, you’re a mechanic?”

“Nah, I work in the office. I’m the spreadsheet and parts guy. It’s a sweet gig. Not too challenging. Flexible. Allows me to drive to Dallas every now and again to seduce a hot doctor.” He winked.

“Maybe you need to be challenged.”

“Why? I like that I can do my job on autopilot. We’re not all driven to become doctors.”

“No, of course not. I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Yes, you did.” He pushed the empty pie plate toward the center of the table and placed his crumpled paper napkin on top of it. “I’m a biker, Linden. Not everything I do is on the books. You get me?”

I nodded slowly. It was one thing to know he was a biker. It was another to have him admit to the darker part of his life.

He pulled out his wallet and laid more than enough to cover our meal, Jed and Sylvie’s, and a large tip left over for Freddy.

“You love being a doctor, don’t you?” he asked.

“Most of the time, yeah. The medicine and helping people. It gives me—”

“Purpose?”

“Yeah.” I paused. “Purpose.”

“You must be good at hitting the books.” He grinned. “Bet you love libraries.”

“How did you know?” I teased.

“You sniff books, don’t you?”

“I might.”

He slid out of the booth and then put out a hand toward me. I grabbed my purse and took it. He pulled me into his arms and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“Freddy!” he called. “We’re out!”

She looked up from behind the bar, shot us a smile and a wave, and then grasped the cocktail shaker.

Boxer and I stepped out into the night. It was cooler now, and I shamelessly used it as an excuse to nuzzle closer. I enjoyed the casual ease of being with him.

He unlocked the truck and helped me with the passenger door. Before he shut it, he stared at me for a moment. We drove in relative silence with jazz playing through the speakers. Boxer reached over the center console, searching for my hand. I gave it, linking my fingers through his. It was comfortable, easy. There was no need to fill the void with mindless chitchat.

When we got to my condo, there was a parking space right in front on the street. Boxer easily maneuvered the truck into the spot and turned off the ignition.

“I’ll walk you up,” he said, unlatching his seat belt.

“You don’t have to,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah, darlin’. I do. I want to make sure you get into your place safe and sound.”

I frowned. “My building has a security guard.”

“Humor me.”

With a shrug, I grabbed my purse and hopped out of the truck. Boxer took my hand and linked his fingers through mine, as if he wasn’t ready to say goodbye or stop touching me.

We entered the building. I waved to Jerry, and we continued toward the elevator. I pressed the up button, and a few moments later the doors opened. Boxer and I stepped inside.

“So, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this was your best date ever,” Boxer stated.

A bubble of laughter escaped my lips. “Careful out there on that limb. It might snap.”

He let go of my hand and then draped his arm around my shoulders. Boxer pressed his lips to my forehead.

The doors of the elevator opened, and we stepped out.

His hand slid down my arm to rest on my hip, his finger teasing the denim at my waist. “I’m dying to know if you were yanking my chain, telling me you’re not wearing underwear. Is that true?”

I batted his hand away. “If I tell you, you might get ideas and overexert yourself. I haven’t cleared you for your favorite hobby yet, remember?”

“Give a man a reason to dream.”

“You don’t want to dream. You want spank bank material.”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth, Doc.” His grin was wicked. “I never would’ve guessed…but I like it. I like it a lot.”

I chuckled and placed my hand on his chest, not to force him away but because I wanted to feel his heartbeat. It raced with strength, and I shivered with want.

Boxer saw it.

His eyes darkened, and he stepped closer. “You’re killing me slowly, Doc.”

He gently pushed me against the door, angling his pelvis against me so I could feel how much he wanted me. His hands tore through my braid, loosening the strands and plowing his fingers through my hair.

“Linden,” he growled, right before his mouth covered mine.

I grasped the lapels of his leather cut and pulled him into me. My eyes closed, and my heartbeat fluttered in my neck.

He pillaged my mouth, mimicking with his tongue what I was sure he wanted to do to my body.

My skin erupted with warmth, and I suddenly felt like I had too many clothes on. One of his hands snaked beneath my sweater, his breath catching when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. His thumb grazed my nipple, causing it to harden.

He pulled back and stared into my eyes. “I want to see your skin flush with pleasure. I want to see your beautiful blue eyes roll back into your head when I bury my face between your thighs and lick you until you come. And then I want you to beg me to slide deep inside you.”

His vision flashed in my mind, and my legs trembled. I wanted to pull him into the condo, strip him down, and demand he make good on his promises.

Boxer smiled, his hand cradling my cheek. And then he kissed me soft, gentle, like he hadn’t just told me he wanted to screw me into oblivion.

“Good night, Doc.”

He kissed me one last time and then he left, taking his heat and promises with him.

* * *

“Linden? Earth to Linden,” Peyton said, waving her hand in front of my face.

I absentmindedly stirred creamer into my third coffee of the day as I looked at her. “Sorry? Did you say something?”

Peyton grinned. “What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?” I took my cup of coffee to the staff couch, glad to have a few minutes between patients.

“I mean, you don’t even look like you’re on this planet.” Peyton quickly made herself a cup of coffee and took the seat next to me. “Are you going to tell me what’s gotten into you?”

I debated confiding in Peyton. I didn’t want my personal business to spread throughout the entire hospital. I’d sworn Amanda to secrecy about running into Boxer at The Rex and so far, she’d kept her mouth shut. Not that I thought Peyton would blab on purpose, but there was always chatter between nurses.

“Does it have anything to do with that hot, yogurt-loving biker?” Peyton asked in delight.

My cheeks flamed. “How did you know it was him?”

“Because I know for a fact it wasn’t that stuffy lawyer you pretended to give a chance a while back.”

“He wasn’t stuffy,” I protested, but then immediately recanted. “Yes, yes he was.”

“So, I’m right then? About Boxer?”

“You might be right about him. We went out the other night.”

“Did you, now? Well, well, well, the plot thickens. Did it turn into something dirty?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Will it?”

“Eventually.”

“When?” she demanded.

“My love life is not a create your own adventure book,” I said with amusement. “If you’re so hard up for it, find yourself a hot guy. I hear home improvement stores are great places to find men with tools.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it,” she said, her tone dry. “But seriously. Is it going to get physical?”

I paused and then nodded.

“Are you seeing him again?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Don’t know,” I admitted. “He kissed me outside my condo door and then left. He has a habit of kissing me and walking away without making any plans.”

“You mean he’s done this before?”

Whoops.

“Yeah,” I admitted slowly. “I kind of accidently bumped into him at The Rex—the night I went out with Amanda.”

“You’ve been holding out on me! We need a bottle of wine and girl talk immediately!”

Dr. Sawyer strode into the lounge, saw Peyton and me talking, and shot us a look that was both condescending and full of arrogance at the same time.

Peyton quickly hopped up like she’d been caught doing something illegal and skittered out of the lounge.

“Dr. Ward,” he drawled. “When you find the time after enjoying yet another leisurely cup of coffee, please discharge my patients in rooms 302 and 327.”

“Right away,” I said.

Nodding, he strode out of the lounge.

“Right away, Dr. Prick,” I muttered under my breath.

My phone buzzed in my lab coat pocket, and I grabbed it. A smile bloomed across my face.

Boxer: You owe me another date.

Me: I owe you? For what?

Boxer: I had to settle for my hand instead of you.

I pressed a button and put the phone to my ear. It rang for a moment, and then Boxer picked up the line and I said, “You lay it on thick, don’t you?”

“Yup. Are you gonna punish me for disobeying your orders? You told me not to touch myself, and I didn’t listen. Punish me, Doc. Punish me real hard.”

I laughed. “I knew you weren’t going to be able to keep from jerking it. Why do you think I told you weeks? I knew you’d only be able to hold out for a little while.”

“Did you manipulate me?”

“Yup.”

He chuckled. “So, when do I get to see you again?”

“I’m working the next forty-eight hours.”

“Forty-eight hours is too long.”

“It’s my schedule, Boxer. I’m free the two nights after. You can have your pick.”

“Wednesday.”

“Dr. Ward,” Dr. Sawyer barked as he appeared in the doorway of the lounge. “Are you incapable of following my request for some reason I should know about?”

“Sorry, I’ll be right there.” I turned away from him again, and then into the phone I said, “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Who’s yelling at you?” he demanded.

“No one. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you later.” I quickly hung up with Boxer and shoved my phone back in my pocket. It vibrated immediately.

Dr. Sawyer glared at me. He was in a fine snit today, and I just hoped it didn’t get worse.

* * *

It got worse. Way worse.

Dr. Sawyer became my shadow, and every moment I tried to sit down to have a quiet moment, he found something else for me to do. He made me run labs and draw blood, remedial tasks that normally only interns and nurses did. Any consult in the ER that was needed, particularly when it was something vile, he sent me. Just to prove he could.

I’d worked with people like him before, those that were intimidated by others who showed promise and skill. Instead of cultivating it, they resented it.

After eighteen hours on the go, I finally managed to drag myself into an on-call room. I kicked off my shoes and all but collapsed face first onto the mattress. I was asleep within minutes.

An hour later, my pager went off. Groaning, I rolled over and flung my legs over the side of the bed. I quickly slid into my tennis shoes and was out the door.

I popped a small mint into my mouth and made my way to the nurses’ station.

“I was paged,” I said to Lizzie.

“I didn’t page you,” Lizzie said.

I frowned and grabbed the pager at my waist, which had no missed notifications. I felt another vibration in my pocket and checked my cell phone.

Boxer: Turn around.

I turned—and saw him rising from a chair in the hallway waiting area.

I strolled toward him, my traitorous heart fluttering like a caged butterfly. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you had some decent food instead of having to eat that shit in the hospital cafeteria.” His hand touched my cheek. “Damn, you were asleep.”

“How did you know?”

He leaned forward and whispered, “You have a pillow crease on your face.”

My hand flew to my cheek, and I groaned. “This is what I get for rolling out of bed and not bothering to check my appearance.

“This is how you look just waking up?” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“What?” I asked.

“Never mind.” He held up the brown bag. “You have time for some food?”

I nodded. “Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

“Sorry I woke you up, darlin’.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said. “You brought me food. That was—you didn’t have to do that.”

“I was at The Rex when I thought about you not having a decent meal, and then I remembered the restaurant has killer steak and mashed potatoes.”

“You didn’t.” I opened the brown bag and peered into it, the smell of meat wafting to my nose. “You so did.”

“Careful, you’re drooling.” He winked.

I pushed the down elevator button on the wall and stood back. The doors opened, and I stepped in with Boxer next to me. Once the carriage closed, he wrapped his arm around me and dragged me toward him. His lips covered mine in a hungry, demanding kiss. I curled my hand into his shirt, desire zinging through my blood.

He pulled back and looked down at me with a lopsided grin. “Three birds, one stone. That was the first bird.”

I laughed and pressed the button for the cafeteria.

“I wanted to bring you food, which I’ve now done, so that’s the second bird.”

The elevator opened, and we stepped out. It was quiet this time of night, but there were a few people sitting on the other side of the room.

I gestured to a table near a large plant, and Boxer nodded. He set the bag down and removed containers of food.

My stomach turned to marshmallow fluff. “So, the third bird?” I dug into the steak and only my ingrained manners prevented me from eating like a hyena. It was that good.

“I wanted to show my face to the asshole who yelled at you while I was on the phone,” Boxer said, leaning back in his chair. “Though I have a pretty good idea of who it is.”

I stopped chewing and peered at him. His expression gave nothing away and even though he looked relaxed, there was something in his body, an alertness, a readiness to spring.

“Why?”

“I’m curious.”

“About?” I asked in confusion.

“How’s the steak?”

“Perfection. And don’t change the subject.”

“I want to meet the guy that’s riding your ass hard at work, okay?” His gray eyes glittered with challenge. “I’m not gonna cause trouble, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

I looked at his hands that rested on the table. They were large. And his fists could do serious injury.

“I wasn’t thinking that,” I admitted.

“Liar,” he said on a laugh.

I blushed in shame.

“Hey,” he said, reaching across the table. I gave him my free hand, and he threaded his fingers with mine. “If someone treats you bad, I’m gonna want to punch the shit out of them. That’s just my nature. But I know that kind of crap won’t fly here. This is your terrain, not mine, and it’ll just cause you more trouble. But I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want to meet the asshole and give him something to think about.”

I looked Boxer up and down, from his tattoos, to his leather cut, to the overall dangerous vibe he put out. Boxer made women’s heads turn and men sit up and take notice.

A natural predator.

“You remind me of a lion,” I said to him. “Sitting the way you are. Like you’re happy to laze in the sun but ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.”

A smile spread across his face.

“What?” I asked in amusement.

“You. That’s all.” He gestured with his chin to the remainder of the potatoes. “Eat up, and then I’ll walk you back upstairs.”

We got up to the floor, and the nurses on night duty watched us with fascinated gazes. I thought about being embarrassed—embarrassed because Boxer kept a possessive hand clasped to mine. But then something truly marvelous happened.

I realized that I didn’t have to care what other people thought of us.

“Thanks for bringing me dinner,” I said, turning my back on the nurses’ station.

“Happy to do it.”

I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, dame, I’ll see you soon.”

“Dame?” I repeated.

His grin was impish, boyish. “Yeah. You’re a dame, through and through.” He grasped the tail end of my braid and used it to tug me forward. “Now, kiss me again. Only this time, use your tongue.”

“But they’re watching,” I murmured.

“Even better. Give them something good to talk about.”

Laughing, I kissed him again and my tongue slid into his mouth to tangle with his.

When he pulled back, his eyes were heated with promise. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I plan to finish,” I teased. “You’ll just have to wait for it, but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

With one final tug on my braid, Boxer let me go, and then he sauntered to the elevator. Only when the doors shut, did I finally come back to the present.

“You were totally staring at his butt, weren’t you?” Lizzie called out.

I turned to look at her. “Yeah. I totally was. No shame.”

* * *

Boxer’s impromptu visit stayed with me the rest of my shift, leaving me warm and buzzy, like I’d consumed too much caffeine. Every part of me tingled with energy. Not even Dr. Prick’s incessant demands and throwing me each nasty case that came through the ER dampened my spirits.

Texts from Boxer every now and again emboldened my spirit and kept me going. I didn’t spend any time dwelling on why the charming playboy biker was using his time to randomly text me. I was a sure thing once I deemed him healed. In fact, I was more than ready for it. My brain was no longer protesting, and my body was primed and eager.

By the time my shift was over, and I was back in my own clothes, I was dragging hard. I stopped by the nurses’ station on my way out. Peyton was gathering her belongings and jacket.

“I’ll walk with you to the parking lot,” she said.

“Great.”

We headed to the elevators as she asked, “Do you want to come over this week for dinner?”

“Sure, that sounds good. I have the next two nights off, but I already have plans for tomorrow night.”

“Do you, now?” Her smile was slow, and she raised her brows. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

The late afternoon sun bathed the parking lot, glinting off the rainbow of cars. I got my keys out and unlocked my Mercedes with the clicker just as my phone buzzed.

I quickly removed my cell, a smile already making its way across my face. It died when I realized it wasn’t Boxer but my mother. I didn’t even bother to read her text.

I opened the car door and tossed my phone and bag onto the passenger seat. After climbing in, I shut and locked the door, and just sat for a moment, getting my head together.

My phone vibrated again. I eyed it warily, and then with a sigh, I grabbed it.

This time my smile came fast and furious.

Boxer: Do you like carnivals?

I turned on the car and then pressed a button on my steering wheel. His phone rang once, and then he answered.

“Hey,” I said. “I can’t text. I’m about to pull out of the parking lot and drive home. And no, I don’t like carnivals.”

“Why not? You don’t like Ferris wheels or funnel cakes?”

“I can get behind funnel cakes, but I’m afraid of heights and carnivals make me sad.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. They’re—never mind.”

“Tell me why they make you sad.”

“Because they’re seasonal and transient. And when they pack up and leave, there’s a big open space and leftover trash and forgotten stuffed animals, and the fun is gone. It’s sad.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment and then he said, “No carnivals then.”

“No carnivals,” I agreed. I put on my seatbelt and then slowly backed out of my spot. “Though I do appreciate a good merry-go-round.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of that scene in Mary Poppins when they jump into a chalk painting.”

Boxer chuckled. “I never know what you’re gonna say. I like that about you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Hold on a second. Silas! You and Brock need to get in the truck! Linden? You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Who are Silas and Brock?”

“Silas is Mia’s kid. Brock’s his best friend. I’m at the park with them. Silas decided he wanted to try out for the soccer team because the most popular girl in his class said she liked soccer players.”

“You’re not supposed to be doing anything too strenuous!” I admonished.

“I’m not. It’s cute though, how you worry about me.”

“I’m not worried.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“Silas is twelve and already into girls?” I asked.

“How did you know he was twelve?”

“Mia said so when I met her.”

“Huh.”

“Huh what?”

“You listen. When people talk.”

“Well, sure. I’m a doctor. I’m supposed to listen so I can make things better.”

“Do you know how many people don’t give a shit about that?”

“Language, Boxer, you’re around children.”

“Yeah, Doc. School me. I like it.”

I let out a laugh. “So is Silas any good at soccer?”

“The kid’s got two left feet,” Boxer said with a chuckle. “But what he lacks in coordination, he more than makes up for with enthusiasm.”

“Boxer!” a young boy yelled. “Stop talking to your girlfriend!”

“Hold your horses, kid. When a pretty girl wants to talk to you, you take your time.”

“You better get going.”

“Yeah, I better.” He sighed. “They’re making asinine kissy faces at me. I’ve got to have a sit-down talk with them about women.”

“Silas is practicing his soccer skills to impress a girl. I’m pretty sure he’s already clued in.”

“Still. It’s my job as his uncle to level with him about how to really impress women.”

I grinned at the idea of a young boy mimicking Boxer. “How should I dress for our date tomorrow? Jeans?”

“No. Wear a dress. A fancy, sexy one that shows a lot of leg.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere special.”

“The Rex Hotel?”

“Nope, somewhere else. Somewhere else that’s gonna wow the fuck out of you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, but let the record show, I didn’t ask to be wined and dined.”

“Trying to prove you’re not high maintenance?”

“Yeah. Is it working?”

“Nope. It’s okay, though. It’s keeping me on my toes.”

My heart lifted in my chest like a birthday balloon. “Any color you’ve got in mind?”

“Nah. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“Anything else, Boxer?” I demanded.

“No underwear. I want to be able to slide my hand up your leg and—”

“Boxer! The kids!”

“They’re already in the truck. They can’t hear me.”

A horn blared in the background.

“Okay, now I really do have to go. See you tomorrow. Seven.”