Private Practice

chapter Two


Tyler listened to the silence while his question hung in the air between them. Ellie stared for a moment and then gave him such a measuring look he actually felt heat crawl up his neck. What the hell was going through her mind?

“Since you were, shall we say, chatting up Lou Ann this evening, I take it you’re currently unattached?”

Lou Ann had done all the chatting, in truth. He’d been looking for a polite way to shut her down even before her lips started blazing a trail along his throat, because Junior was one of his best friends and, contrary to what everyone seemed to think, he didn’t make a habit of hitting on his best friend’s girl. He crossed his arms over his chest and started to rest his hip against the table before remembering that probably wasn’t a good idea. “Yeah, Doc. I’m still waiting for that special someone to come along.”

“But you like to stay busy while you wait.”

Her words held no hint of judgment. Rather, his own recent but steadily growing dissatisfaction with his revolving door of a love life caused the comment to stick in his craw. Or maybe taking a bullet in the ass for being stupid or just plain bored enough to hang around when Lou Ann had flirted served as a wake-up call. Either way, seemed like time to make a change.

“Some might say,” he answered, eyeing her. This was an odd conversation to be having with anyone, let alone Sparky Swann. What in the hell did his relationship status have to do with convincing her not to report Junior to the authorities?

The belt of her short, pink robe claimed her full attention. “You’re very experienced in a particular area where I’d like to increase my…um…competency.”

She glanced at him, absently worrying her lower lip between her teeth. The gesture caused an uncomfortable tightening in his groin. “You want to learn how to build a house?”

“I’m talking about sex,” she said, setting her lip free, so now it was just her deep, brown gaze grabbing him by the balls. “You’ve been honing your talents since you were a teenager. If the gossip can be believed, you enjoy a sex life most guys only dream about.”

“Hey, now, you can’t believe everything you hear.” But a highly ambitious part of him begged to disagree. It begged him to part her slippery pink robe and show her things she’d only dreamed about.

This is Sparky Swann, he reminded himself, a bookish, awkward little girl, ’cept she didn’t appear to be any of those things anymore.

“I only have to believe a quarter of it. Tyler…” She trailed off and dragged a hand through her long, dark hair, unconsciously telegraphing nerves. “Promise to teach me how to be a wild woman in bed and I’ll leave it to some other concerned citizen to report Junior to the cops.”

Maybe he’d been shot in the head tonight too, because something was definitely wrong with his hearing. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Her chin came up. “You heard me. I want hands-on, real-life instruction.”

“Okay, let’s back up a minute. Mind if I ask why you think you need to be ‘wilder’ between the sheets?”

Those bourbon-and-Coke eyes skidded away from his again.

“I’d rather not say.”

“Of course not.” Sighing, he stared at the toes of his boots and tried to get his head around her proposal. “Let me sum this up, just to be sure I understand. You agree not to notify the sheriff if I promise to be your sex tutor?” He glanced up at her.

When she nodded, he laughed. “That’s pretty damn straightforward, Doc. Certainly strips all the silly games and romance out of the mix.”

“Oh, come on. How is my proposal any different from you and Lou Ann hooking up at Rawley’s on a random Friday night? You want it, she wants it, and off you go. You both know darn well the evening doesn’t end with a bended-knee proposal. It’s about enjoying the physical experience and then moving on. I’m suggesting the same thing, except without the drinks, small talk, or the risk of getting your ass shot off, and… ”

Her words faded and her captain-of-the-debate-team expression shifted to a look he couldn’t readily identify, but nonetheless made him feel like a jerk.

“And I’m no Lou Ann Doubletree,” she observed quietly, wrapping her robe tighter and securing the tie at her waist. “How stupid of me. Look, if you don’t think you can muster it up, forget I said anything.”

Ah hell. “I never said I couldn’t muster it up. Trust me. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“Maybe I feel like a child molester, mustering it up for little Ellie Swann.”

“I’m twenty-eight years old, hardly a child.”

She had a point. The crazy cap of frizzy ringlets she’d never quite tamed as a kid had turned into a tumble of smooth, ebony waves. Pert features and dimpled cheeks had matured and refined, so the grown-up version delivered a one-two punch of sweet and sexy. Back in the day, she’d worn glasses so thick she could see into next week, but now, only big, brown Bambi eyes blinked up at him. And that mouth. Even bare, it looked soft and ripe and kissable.

“No argument there, Doc.”

“Then what’s the problem? I don’t buy the ethical dilemma. If you can bang Double D for the fun of it, you can bang me.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. I’ve had sex with women, I’ve seduced women, and on rare occasions, I’ve even made love to women, but I have never, ever banged a woman.” Still, terminology aside, he couldn’t debate her conclusion. If she’d shown up at Rawley’s tonight, a beautiful stranger, he’d have been first in line to offer her a drink, some small talk, and anything else she wanted.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t some beautiful stranger. She was Ellie. He’d always harbored a soft spot for her. They’d both been raised by tough, remote fathers carved from the same cold, hard stone. And while as far as he knew, Frank Swann had never resorted to the beatings Big Joe Longfoot had loved to dole out for any actual or perceived transgressions, the man hadn’t exactly showered his only child with praise and encouragement.

Taking in her big eyes, soft, sleep-tousled hair, and extremely kissable mouth, he realized he now had a hard spot for her as well.

The soft spot was easier to accept.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Semantics aside, do we have a deal or not?”

Christ, how did he get himself into these situations? Pressing his thumb to the growing ache between his eyes, he begged, “Give me a minute to think. How many, uh, tutorials are we talking about?”

She pondered the question for a moment and he could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she calculated. “Ten?”

His dick shot up and shouted Sold!, but his sense of self-preservation kicked in with a lowball counter. “Two.”

“Eight,” she retorted, and he secretly appreciated her unoffended gamesmanship.

“Four.”

“Five. That’s my final offer. Anything less and I don’t get enough education to make it worth risking disciplinary action from the state licensing board.”

“Okay, done.”

She smiled, and the dimples he remembered from years ago winked in her cheeks. When she stuck out her hand to shake on it, he fought a powerful urge to pull her close and kiss one of the adorable little dents. He’d never tutored anyone before, but this would be easy. Take her out a few times, give them both some thrills.

“Great.” She reached into her black bag, grabbed a handful of something he feared might be condoms, and tucked them in the pocket of her robe. “Let’s get started—”

His laugh cut her off. “No offense, Doc, but I doubt I can muster it up tonight. Half my ass is numb.”

She pressed those full lips of hers into what she probably considered a stern line. He wondered how she’d react if she knew it had his dick springing to attention and proving him a liar.

“None taken,” she said, and marched toward the door. “I was going to say, let’s get started once your stitches are out.”

“Ah.” The teacher’s aide in his pants settled down. He followed her into the hall. “Sounds like a plan. How long before…?”

She reached into her pocket and handed him a packet of gauze and a couple of large bandages. “Change the dressing daily. Make an appointment with my office for Thursday and we’ll see how the wound has healed.” She halted at the front door. “If everything looks good, we can figure out a timeline and pin down the curriculum.”

He nearly fumbled the supplies as he tucked them into the front pocket of his jeans. The curriculum? Leave it to overachieving Ellie to treat something as instinctive and elemental as sex like an academic pursuit. Though he couldn’t explain precisely why, the notion of a specific lesson plan excited and terrified him at the same time.

“Let’s not overcomplicate things. I’m comfortable winging it in this area.”

She scrunched her brow in another expression he found an inexplicable turn-on and then shook her head. “I’m not. I don’t want to waste one of my sessions covering something I already know. My goal is to expand my knowledge.”

He fought an urge to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans. “What, exactly, do you have in mind?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure yet. I need to do some research.”

“You go ahead and research to your heart’s content, Doc, but I reserve the right to veto anything on your so-called curriculum.”

That stalled her. “Why?”

He stepped out onto her porch and turned to her. “’Cause I’m the expert.” True, and yet the fact suddenly struck him as a little pathetic. She’d taken less than half an hour to decide the main thing he had to offer dangled between his legs. He had a sneaking suspicion most of the women in town would agree. Admittedly, he hadn’t worked hard to cultivate a different impression, but he was good for more than tangling sheets. One way or another, he was going to prove it to her, if only for pride’s sake.

Maybe it was pride, or contrariness, or maybe it had more to do with the sight of her standing in the doorway, looking at him dubiously and nibbling her lower lip, but he leaned in until he was close enough to see the subtle variations of color in her fascinating brown irises. “What do you say we start with a basic aptitude test?”

“A test?”

Her quick inhale reached his ears just before he brought his mouth down on hers. He’d meant to surprise her and perhaps throw her a little off-balance, but the surprise was all on him. The second he tasted those soft, velvety lips, all thoughts about proving anything except how fast he could get them out of their clothes, into bed, and rocking each other’s worlds ran right out of his head. Along with any shred of caution and a good portion of his blood.

Her thoughts apparently raced down the same path, because she surged up on her tiptoes, clamped a hand around his neck, and returned the kiss with all kinds of innate talent. His mind went as numb as his butt. Before he knew what he was doing, he had his hand fisted in the slippery fabric at the back of her robe, holding her close while his tongue took a long, slow slide over hers.

An appreciative sound vibrated deep in her throat and she pressed even closer. The unguarded little noise penetrated the haze of need he’d sunk into the minute their lips had touched. He drew back, sucking in air like a drowning man, and waited for the world to tip back onto its axis. What the f*ck was he doing? Getting shot and then propositioned had clearly screwed his equilibrium. There was no other explanation.

Her eyes blinked open and focused on him. In them he read all kinds of shock and awe, which would have been satisfying but for the disturbing fact that they mirrored everything currently going on inside him. He bit back a groan as he watched her tongue make a quick sweep over her lips, now wet from their kiss.

A tardy sense of self-preservation kicked in. He let go of her and stepped back, absurdly grateful his legs cooperated. When she wobbled and grabbed the doorframe for support, he felt some of the satisfaction that had previously eluded him.

“Congratulations, Sparky.”

She shook her head as if to clear it. “For what?”

He couldn’t have held back his smile if his life depended on it. She looked so discombobulated.

“You passed with flying colors. ’Night.” He held on to the smile until she shut the door, and then all hell broke loose between his ears.

Cleaning up the mess he’d made of her front porch didn’t bring him any closer to figuring out what had just happened. He’d kissed women. Plenty of women. Maybe more than his fair share of women, and enjoyed every single lip-lock. Some stood out, some faded into a background of pleasantly lustful encounters. None came anywhere close to that kiss with Ellie. It felt like hurtling into a new adventure and coming home at the same time.

The realization troubled him. He used his long strides to put some distance between himself and the biggest shock of his life since taking a bullet in the ass. He was supposed to be the one who knew what he was doing. But as soon as she’d parted her lips and applied herself, he’d realized this straight-A student was about to set the curve yet again. Hell, she’d set it, skewed it and then blown the damn thing away.

He carefully straddled his bike, more than a little grateful for the local anesthesia, and kick-started the engine. Fine. They’d struck a deal and he’d hold up his end, but before they dove into her so-called lessons, he’d take a few precautions. First, make sure the good doctor understood the real-life implications of what she thought she wanted. All the research and planning in the world didn’t mean that when the moment of truth arrived, she wouldn’t have second thoughts—especially if he planted one or two of them himself. If she did, well, he’d graciously let her out of the bargain.

Second, he’d find out why she’d hatched this crazy proposal in the first place. He had an uncomfortable suspicion that his eager student intended to use what she learned to blow the pants off someone else.

…

Ellie rattled off her request for a skinny mocha to the fuchsia-haired cashier at Jiffy Java. Normally, the word “decaf” would have preceded her order, but after her early-morning caller, she needed a jolt of caffeine. Her patient schedule was mercifully blank because her official opening wasn’t until Monday, but she planned to spend her entire Saturday setting up three exam rooms’ worth of supplies and organizing her office. These activities required some uninterrupted time…and energy.

She tried and failed to stifle a huge yawn as she moved to the pickup counter to wait for her order.

“Sparky, you haven’t been back long enough to be bored to death already,” a teasing voice intoned.

Turning, she came face to face with… “Roger! Oh my God, it’s so nice to see you.” Nice to see him? Could she be any lamer? She smoothed the hem of her slim black T-shirt and wished she’d paired it with something more eye-catching than cropped khaki cargos and black canvas ballet flats, because he looked wonderful. A pristine white polo shirt and tennis shorts set off his sun-streaked hair and tanned skin. Could any man be more perfect? And yet, even as she formed the thought, a picture of Tyler sprang into her mind—tall, dark, and distractingly handsome. She shoved his uninvited image out of her head.

“Good to see you too, Ellie.” Roger’s warm greeting and the quick brush of his lips against her cheek sent her heart fluttering. “Or should I say, Dr. Swann? I heard you were back.”

Dazzled by his smile and the mesmerizing sparkle in his heavenly blue eyes, she managed a breathless, “News travels fast.”

“’Round these parts, it doesn’t have far to travel.” With a shake of his head, he added, “I can’t believe it’s really you.” He stepped back and took stock. “Sometime during the last ten years you got all grown up. You look good, Ellie. Really good. How are you?”

A blush heated her face, all the way to the roots of her hair. Thankfully, the barista placed her mocha on the counter just then, giving her an excuse to turn away for a moment. “I’m great.” Giddy, nervous, nearly incoherent with excitement. “And you?”

“I’m doing well”—his smile faltered—“or, maybe I should say working my way in that direction. I don’t know if you heard about Melody and me?”

“I heard you called off your engagement,” she said, giving his forearm a comforting pat. No way would she admit to overhearing why. “I’m very sorry.”

He offered her a pained look. “News travels fast, huh?”

She inclined her head and gave his earlier response back to him. “’Round these parts, it doesn’t have far to go. But I have to admit the news came as a shock. I always assumed you two would go the distance.”

He sighed. “She’s a great girl, and she’ll always be my best friend, but our relationship just didn’t work out. I— It’s completely my fault.”

Sympathy swelled her heart. Melody might have been putting on a brave face for Ginny, but she hadn’t sounded nearly this broken up about the end of the engagement yesterday afternoon in DeShay’s. Frankly, she’d come across as completely at peace with the decision, whereas he seemed racked with guilt.

“If you need a good listener or a shoulder to cry on, I’m available.” I’m available? Shoot, did she sound too forward? All she’d meant was—

“Thanks, Sparky. That’s really sweet.” His eyes shifted to someone behind her. He straightened and smiled. “Hey. How’s it going?”

This time when she turned, she came face-to-face with her 2:00 a.m. caller.

His mouth tipped up at one corner in a slow, ridiculously sexy grin. “She doesn’t like to be called Sparky anymore—prefers Ellie or Dr. Swann.”

“Whoops. Sorry, Ellie. I hope I didn’t offend you. It’s just”—he shrugged—“you’ve been Sparky for as long as I can remember. Since the Knights of Columbus Annual Fourth of July Festival back in…gosh, how long ago was it?”

She prepared to brush the question away, but Tyler spoke up. “Twenty-two years. You were six, right Doc?”

Shock that he remembered the details of the incident nearly overshadowed her annoyance. Why in God’s name did he have to have such perfect recollection of something she’d prefer to leave long forgotten? “Right. Six. Hardly a fair age to be saddled with a lifelong nickname.”

“Well, you did burn down the bandstand,” Roger pointed out with an apologetic smile.

“Blame Budweiser and Earl Rawley, who should have used better judgment, considering the man owns a pub. What kind of maniac hands a six-year-old a sparkler and then lights it? Small wonder I freaked out. Thank God nobody was hurt.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘nobody,’” Roger objected. “I think your dad blew a vessel. I’d never seen anyone so mad before.”

Yeah, he’d been angry. What Roger probably didn’t appreciate, being only six at the time and from a family where no one ever raised their voice in anger, was that she’d been as much the target of her father’s temper as Earl. Her little accident had forced him to actually deal with his daughter instead of pretending she didn’t exist. A quick glance assured her Tyler knew. Sympathy—or worse, pity—clouded his eyes.

A fistful of muscle relaxants couldn’t have stopped her spine from stiffening. Granted, Frank would never nominate her for daughter of the year, but now that she was back in Bluelick, she planned on forging some kind of adult relationship with him. In the meantime, she had a pretty good life, if she did say so herself. She set high goals for herself and worked hard to attain them. No pity necessary.

In her haste to close the topic, she replied more brusquely than she intended. “The whole incident serves as a perfect example of what happens when liquor, lame-ass judgment, and dangerous toys come together. Speaking of which”—she cocked an eyebrow at Tyler—“how’re you doing this morning?”

Roger cleared his throat and eyed them both speculatively. “I get the distinct impression I’m missing something interesting. Unfortunately, I’ve got a game with my dad at the club in ten minutes, so I’ve got to go. Tyler, always a pleasure. Ellie, let’s catch up real soon.”

See you? Call me? Potential farewells flashed through her mind as he ambled out of the coffee shop, but before she could settle on one, Tyler draped an arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear.

“I’m doing fine, and so is my lame ass. Thanks for asking.”

She shivered and told herself his breath tickling her ear caused the reaction, rather than the unbidden memory of his lips plastered to hers last night during his little “aptitude test.” She couldn’t deny that the image of his sculpted backside elicited tingles in some highly personal places. Goodness, she felt wilder already. Then again, she’d always been a quick study, particularly when the instructor inspired her interest in the subject. Apparently, Tyler inspired.

Unsure of her next move, she fell back on manners. “I noticed the garbage fairy cleaned up my porch. You didn’t have to do that. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

He shrugged. “I made the mess. Least I could do was clean up after myself.” His low voice tickled her ear.

“Well…thanks,” she managed, around her suddenly dry throat. Her discomfort only intensified when a familiar voice called, “Ellie! I’ve been hoping to run into you ever since I heard you were back.”