Wyatt stepped into the room as she spoke again. “I’m on a lunch break,” she said. “And absolutely not obsessively checking the auction bidding.”
Except she totally was. Wyatt could see it. He scanned the list over her shoulder and grinned wide when he realized she had her mouse hovered over . . .
Him.
“I’ve been outbid by no less than five other people,” she said. “Yeah, and now he’s up to . . . five hundred dollars—” She broke off to listen to whoever was speaking on the other end of the line—he was betting Sara.
“Damn that Cassandra. No, I’m not going to bid five hundred bucks,” she said. “Are you kidding me? With that much money, I could fly us home to visit Dad for the weekend. I could get that new transmission for my car. I could take us to a spa day and get the works— Yes, I realize we’ve never been to a spa, Sara, the point is that we could go to one if we wanted— I’m not being ridiculous!” She sighed. “Look, I’ve gotta go.”
Wyatt watched as she ended the call without taking her gaze off the screen. He was still watching when she blew out a breath and hovered her mouse over the bidding block.
And then clicked.
“Dammit,” she muttered to herself, typing in a new bid. “You have no will power.”
“Sounds promising,” he said.
She jumped about five feet in the air at the sound of his voice and whipped around. “What are you doing?” she demanded.
“I think the question is what are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Her gaze skittered away. “Just . . . making a shopping list. You know, cat food, cookies, Mace for people who read over my shoulder . . .” She hit a key on the keyboard, clearly intending to put the screen to sleep.
Instead, it brightened again, revealing the auction site.
Wyatt smiled and leaned over her shoulder. “I thought you said you let the bid go.”
“I . . . meant to.”
“Uh-huh. Let’s see how much I’m worth to you . . .” He felt his brows raise. “Five hundred and one dollars?”
“That’s a typo,” she said, and hit another button. This time the screen went black. “And it’s for charity.”
“So I’m a . . . pity bid?” he asked.
“Yes.” She sucked in a breath. “Exactly.”
He burst out laughing, and she frowned. “It’s true,” she said. “Brady and Dell and Adam are all getting up there in the bidding. I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
He was still grinning. “Look at you, digging yourself deeper.”
She flushed, but lifted her chin. Heaven forbid she cave on anything. “Hey,” she said. “I’ll have you know that your Casserole Brigade has divided into factions. Some of them are now pooling their funds to take the bid on you up to one thousand bucks so that Cassandra can’t get you. I’m just helping them get there, is all.”
He bent low so that his jaw pressed against the side of hers as together they looked at the screen. “Such a pretty liar,” he chided, and turned his head, letting his lips graze the sweet spot just beneath her ear.
She sucked in a breath and shuddered, and when he touched the spot with his tongue, a soft moan escaped her.
“So it has nothing to do with missing me in your bed?” he asked in her ear.
“N-no, of course not. I don’t miss you in my bed.”
“How about my truck? You miss me in the driver’s seat of my truck?” he asked, sucking her skin into his mouth. Christ, he wanted to eat her up.
She moaned again, and he set his hands on the arm of her chair to spin her around to face him. He was just able to haul her out of the chair and show her exactly what she was missing when they heard footsteps coming down the hall.
Emily shoved free of him and was doing her best to look casual as Dell strode in. He snatched a bottle of water from the refrigerator and smiled at her.
She smiled back.
“You got some sun out there today taking care of those geese that were brought in,” he said. “You’re all flushed. Wear sunscreen tomorrow.”
Emily’s gaze slid to Wyatt’s. “Will do.”
“Did I tell you?” Dell asked her. “The head vet from the Beverly Hills center called me. Their intern isn’t enamored with L.A. Her family lives in Coeur d’Alene, and she misses them.”
Emily blinked. “No,” she said a little faintly. “You didn’t mention that.”
Her smile had slipped so briefly, Wyatt would have said he’d imagined it if he didn’t know her.
“I told him we were damned lucky to have you,” Dell said. “Since you’re so happy here.”
Yeah, her smile was definitely a little short of her usual wattage, but Dell was oblivious as he turned to go. As he did, he slid Wyatt a brief glance.
Not oblivious at all, Wyatt realized. Just respecting her privacy.
When they were alone, Emily also turned to leave.
Wyatt caught her hand and pulled her back around, giving her a long, searching look.
“What?” she said.
“You tell me.”
She pulled free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So I just imagined that quick flash of horror as you realized you could have switched places with that other intern and gone back to L.A. early?”
Again she tried to go.
And again he held her to him. “How many days left?”
“Three hundred and thirty-six,” she said without hesitation.
Shit. He took a deep breath. “You’re still not happy here,” he stated flatly.
She closed her eyes.
He didn’t know what he expected. That she’d have miraculously given up on her plan just because they’d slept together a few times?
But that wasn’t what pissed him off. It was that he’d been hoping for more.
And she’d been hoping to be sent home.
“You should have told him,” Wyatt said.
“He’d just said how much he valued me as a vet,” Emily said. “Do you know what he’s given me? Everything. I’m not going to tell him I’d rather be in L.A.”
Wyatt drew a careful breath, trying to leave his personal feelings out of the mix. He was good at that. Hell, he fucking rocked at that. “He would’ve understood.”
She turned back to him, with heartbreaking sincerity. “You think so?”
Christ. “Yeah,” he said. “I think so.”
And then, because what he really wanted to do was push her up against the wall and kiss the living shit out of her, until she was panting his name and tearing at his clothes to get him inside her, he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them off her.
He walked out.
Lilah came by after work and dragged Emily off for “some fun.” Turned out Lilah’s husband, Brady, was on a team with—among others—Dell, Adam, Adam’s BFF Griffin, AJ, and a player who ran onto the field at the very last minute.
Wyatt.
The guys were all in athletic shorts, T-shirts, and cleats, and since it had rained until about five minutes ago, they were also drenched. And muddy.
Nobody wore drenched and muddy better than Wyatt, a fact Emily did her best to take in while pretending not to . . .
Sitting in the stands around her were other wives and girlfriends. She also figured out, when one pretty twentysomething struggled to the stands using a walker and stopped to yell at Wyatt through the fence, “You need to kick ass, Wyatt Stone, to make up for last week’s suckage!” that sisters were welcome as well.
Lilah waved her over to sit with them.
“Aw,” Darcy said, sizing Emily up. “The new vet.”
“You’re one of Wyatt’s two sisters,” Emily said.