Call Me Wild Read online

  He tossed the sampler scarf he’d been trying to knit for her into a bag and stuffed it under the bed. He’d have to figure out how to fix it later. Maybe after he figured how to make things right with Jessica.

  He’d just screwed up royally. He never realized he could be such a fucking caveman. He’d planned to give her time, not toss her over his shoulder and carry her off to bed, something he did not once, but twice.

  Rubbing his temples, he wished away the ache in his head and his heart. How did he ever get himself into this mess?

  Fisher wasn’t a man to just lie around and see what happened, no, concussion or not, he was a man of action—stupid action sometimes, but at least he wasn’t letting life pass him by.

  He tossed his legs off the bed and tugged on an old pair of sweats. He wasn’t going to lie here and wait for her to come to him. He was going after what he wanted, and he wanted Jessica.

  Taking his time, he got up slowly—at least the room had stopped spinning, a real improvement over the last time he’d tried to get up. He made it to the door without even holding on to the furniture. He pulled the door open and slid back down the hall, praying that Jessica hadn’t run.

  When he turned the corner and found her typing away on her computer, he shouldered the wall. Thank God he wasn’t going to have to call in the A-Team, or in his brothers’ case, the B-Team.

  She didn’t notice him, so he took the opportunity to watch her. She’d been working all day, and from what he could see, she wasn’t upset at all. She looked tired, but at the same time, energized—like someone who’d just had a great workout.

  Fisher cleared his throat, and she held up a finger before continuing to type. He sat down on the couch beside her, and she angled her computer away from him. At least she wasn’t talking to Andrew—the other man, the man who’d hurt her and left her, and the man she had no problem telling she loved him. Damn, just the thought of it had his head pounding.

  Jessica looked up as if she could sense his tension. “You’re supposed to be sleeping for another twenty minutes.”

  He moved closer to her, and she closed the screen on her laptop. “You can’t expect me to sleep all day.”

  “No, but the doctor said you’re supposed to stay in bed for three days. Just think. You can sleep for as long as you want now. It’s been about twenty-four hours since you got your brains scrambled.”

  “I didn’t scramble my brain. There is nothing wrong with my cognition.”

  “That’s debatable, but there’s certainly nothing wrong with your vocabulary. You can play a hell of a scrabble game on my iPhone if you’re bored. Your color looks better—you had that Wicked Witch of the West green thing going. Are you feeling any better?”

  He took her hand in his and toyed with her fingers. “Actually, I am. The swelling is going down, the knot on my head is back down to golf ball size, and the headache is almost manageable.”

  “Good.” She set her computer aside and rose. “Do you think you can eat something more substantial than soup now? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  He stood too, maybe a little too quickly, but he wasn’t about to let her know that—he still had a little male pride, after all.

  He blinked once or twice, until the room stopped swimming, and did his best to smile. “Let’s go see what Mom packed for us to eat. She must have been cooking since last night, after Karma called her.”

  She slid her arm around him, and some of his tension disappeared. He was sure she was trying to prevent him from taking a header, but at least she was touching him. It was a start, and right now, he’d take what he could get.

  She shot him a concerned look. “Are you sure you want to go to the kitchen? You can stay here, and I can let you know what we have.”

  “No, I’m good. I’ll just sit at the breakfast bar. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, just let me know if you need to lie down.”

  She was acting as if nothing happened, as if they hadn’t had unprotected sex, and he’d never said he loved her, as if she hadn’t gotten dressed and run right out of the room. She was also avoiding all eye contact. That couldn’t be good.

  He climbed up on the bar stool, and she brought him a bottle of water and his pain pills. He’d never taken so many pills in his life, and he was already sick to death of it. He watched her move around the kitchen like she belonged there—okay, maybe not belonged there, but she fit. After calling out options, she proved she could microwave with the best of them.

  “I got some good news today while you were sleeping.”

  Fisher looked up from his shepherd’s pie. “My brothers have won the Darwin Award?”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s an award given posthumously to those too stupid to live, thereby eliminating them from the shallow end of the gene pool. Accidental self-sterilization also qualifies.”

  Jessica chuckled. “Aren’t you part of that same gene pool?”

  “Yeah, but I swim in the deep end.”

  “More like you’ve gone off the deep end. My friend got me an interview for ESPN. They’re looking for a new female sports reporter. He already sent them a sample of my work and a few on-screen interviews I had on my blog. They want me to fly out to LA the week after next for a meeting.”

  “Wow, that’s great. Where’s the job?”

  “New York, I think. But there’ll probably be a lot of traveling.”

  “Oh.” He held back the word fuck, because he didn’t curse in front of women, and he knew he should be happy for her. Happy was not what he was feeling. Panic was more like it, with a mixture of disappointment, and a whole lot of self-pity. “What about your book?”

  “I’m still working on it. It’s an interview, Fisher, not a job offer. Still, I have an appointment with my friend’s agent, just in case. I’ve never thought about live broadcasting. I mean, I did some in school, but my size was always against me. Maybe with ESPN it’ll be different.”

  “How can your size be anything but an advantage? You’re beautiful, and perfectly proportioned. God, Jess, the way you talk, you’d think you were huge.”

  “I am. The average woman is five foot four. I was five nine by the time I was thirteen. I was taller than every kid in my school and most of the teachers. You heard your brother and cousin. They thought I was a man.”

  “My brother and cousin both need their eyes checked.”

  “I’m five eleven and three-quarters, if I slouch. If I wore heels, I’d be taller than you.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t know why anyone else would either.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re definitely in the minority.”

  “So, who’s this friend of yours?” He knew damn well who it was. It was that creep who’d left her, the one she said she loved.

  “Andrew? We went through Columbia together. We’ve been friends for years. He’s the one who dared me to come out here and gave me his house to stay in. He’s writing for TV now, but he’s hoping to get into screenwriting.”

  Fisher wanted to ask more, but didn’t know how without coming off like a jealous asshole, which, when he thought about it, was exactly what he was. “You know, I have some time off coming. Why don’t we go to LA together, maybe head down to San Diego, and stay at the Coronado for the weekend? I promised you romance. This will give me the chance to do it right.”

  Jess just about choked on her dinner. “Gee, Fisher, that sounds nice, but I kind of told Andrew I’d hang with him for the weekend. We haven’t seen each other in ages, and well, I wouldn’t feel right just taking off with you and leaving him high and dry.”

  Fisher pushed his plate away. “Sure. I understand.” It didn’t mean he liked it. Damn, he couldn’t believe how much he didn’t like it. But he and Jessica had a deal.

  “Besides, you’re not going to be able to work until at least Thursday, and even then, you need to take it easy. It wouldn’t look good for you to take off that next week.”

  “I got
it, Jess. It’s fine.”

  “Good. I’ll only be gone for a few days, and by the time I leave, I have a feeling you’re going to be sick of me. You’ll be happy to see me go.”

  “Jess, I love you. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you. Well, not in the next fifty years anyway. Come on. Let’s go curl up and watch some TV.”

  Jessie got up and collected their plates and put them in the sink. “Why don’t I help you to the den? And then I’ve got to clean up the mess I made. I heard the guy who lives here is anal about keeping everything clean. Then I need to get back to my writing.”

  “I’ll take care of the dishes in the morning.”

  She slid an arm around him and helped him get up. “Oh no, you won’t. Doctor Gilg said you’re to stay in bed for three days. You’re not to do anything more strenuous than walk from the bed to the bathroom.”

  “I know him. He’s a quack.”

  “He’s a neurologist. And he warned me about you. Am I going to have to tie you down to get you to stay in bed?”

  He nibbled on her earlobe. “I’ve got some silk ties, but I get to tie you down first. To hell with the TV, let’s just go to bed.”

  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t disguise the shiver that ran through her. That was something at least. She might not look him in the eye, but she still wanted him. Of course, that didn’t stop her from dumping him on the couch, handing him the remote and a bottle of water, and running back to her computer as fast as her long legs would take her. “Just yell if you need anything.”

  He needed her, and he wanted her tied to his bed—at his mercy. He just didn’t think she was inclined to hear that. Hell, she hadn’t looked him in the eye since he’d told her he’d loved her.

  At ten o’clock, Jessica forced him back to bed, claiming to still be working. At four in the morning, he woke alone and found her asleep in his recliner with her computer still running on her lap. He saved her work, moved her computer, and wished he could pick her up and carry her to bed. He was feeling better, but he still wasn’t up for that. Jessica was a handful, in more ways than one.

  He tossed the afghan over her and watched her sleep until the sun came up. Feeling the need for caffeine, and wanting to avoid looking like a love-struck adolescent or worse—a creeper—he tore himself away and headed to the kitchen.

  He returned with coffee, heard the shower running, and followed the sound. Coffee could wait. Placing the cups on the counter, he tore off his clothes and stepped in beside her.

  “Fisher, what the hell are you doing here?”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a kiss. “I brought you coffee, and when I saw you in here alone, I thought I’d join you. Is there a problem?”

  “No. I just never showered with anyone before.”

  “I don’t make a habit of it myself, but I can make an exception for you.” He poured her shampoo into his hand. “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

  She didn’t look too happy about it, but she did. Within a minute he was massaging her scalp and the tension out of her shoulders. “I missed you last night.”

  “I worked late.”

  “You fell asleep at your computer. I came out to check on you at about four. I saved your work and covered you up. Why didn’t you come to bed? Are you avoiding me?”

  “No. I was trying to finish a scene, and I guess I was more tired than I thought. It happens.”

  Fisher didn’t believe her, and she still wasn’t looking at him—not like she used to. She might not have left physically, but emotionally, she had checked out. It was as if she’d erected some kind of invisible barrier between them, and he wasn’t sure how to get past it.

  Chapter 15

  Wednesday morning Karma knocked on the front door to Fisher’s house instead of using her key—she knew Fisher would take it away if he remembered she had one. Lord knew he was all over Ben and Hunter about barging in on him and Jessie.

  Jessie opened the door, took one look at her, and went back to the recliner. “Fisher’s in his room. Make sure he stays there.”

  Karma stepped inside. “Well, hello to you too. I’m fine. How are you?”

  “He’s driving me nuts. I think you might need to call for a psych eval.”

  “For you or him? Maybe the both of you, huh?” She carried the cooler full of food her mom had packed into the kitchen. “So, what’s my big brother doing now?”

  Jessie followed her like Karma knew she would and pulled herself up to sit on the counter. “I went for a run, and I came home to find him doing my laundry.”

  Karma did her best to hide her smile as she piled food into the refrigerator. So now she’s calling Fisher’s place home. Cool. “The nerve of him.” She’d lay odds that Fisher scrubbed the bathroom too, but she wasn’t about to say so. Fisher was still pissed at her because she’d sent Jessie to the mountains alone. Maybe Karma deserved it, but she had no idea Jessie would actually climb a mountain, trying to get a cell phone signal. Anyway, Karma was on her best behavior and trying to help Fisher out to get back on his good side. Jessie looked like she was at the end of her rope—and from the looks of it Fisher needed all the help he could get.

  Jessie jumped off the counter and paced back and forth between the door and the sink. “Fisher’s not supposed to do anything more taxing than walking from the bed to the bathroom, and he’s doing laundry.”

  “What can I say, it’s a sickness. All the men in my family are neat freaks. I’ve just learned to embrace it. Sure, sometimes I go over to their houses and mess things up on purpose. You know, jump up and down on a freshly made bed just to get on their nerves, but really, what’s there to complain about? At least you’re not expected to do it. And I know from Gina and Toni that if you tried, you’d never do it well enough to please them. Take vacuuming, for instance. A normal person just runs the sweeper, giving it a once-over, right? But not Fisher; he vacuums in patterns. He goes up and down through the whole room, then back and forth across it, and then he vacuums on the diagonal.”

  “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

  Karma backed out of the fridge and turned to Jessie, who looked a little sick. “Afraid not. Some people go to therapy—my brothers, they clean. It’s a lot cheaper, and us girls don’t have to. A win-win situation, if you ask me.”

  “Karma, he was washing my underwear.”

  “I figure if a guy is close enough to get me out of my panties, he’s welcome to wash them. I’m assuming Fisher’s gotten you out of yours a time or two. Am I right?”

  The blush covering Jessie’s face told the story. “I knew you’d be perfect for each other. Fisher owes me big.”

  Jessie’s mouth was hanging open.

  Karma held up her hand. “But don’t thank me. Just name your firstborn after me. It better be a girl though—just sayin’.”

  “But—”

  “Thanks to all my hard work, the Kincaid women have almost overtaken the men. When you officially join the family, we’ll be even with the guys—well, if we count Jasmine, Ben, and Gina’s dog.”

  “Hold on, Karma. I’m not marrying Fisher.”

  “Sure you are. Fisher’s in love with you, that much is obvious, and well, you’re doing a really bad job of avoiding him. There’s not a woman around who can withstand the Kincaid charm for long.”

  Jessie started pacing again. “You don’t understand. He’s not in love with me. He just thinks he is because he had his brains scrambled, and I saved his life. Or maybe it’s Stockholm Syndrome—after all, he keeps saying that I’m holding him captive.”

  “Na, he loved you before he cracked his head open, and you saved him.”

  Jessie stopped and squinted. “How do you know that?”

  “Hunter told me.” Karma reached back into the fridge and pulled out a water. “He knows exactly when it happened, or when Fisher had the panic attack, after he finally figured it out. It’s a twin thing.”

  “A twin thing?”

  She cracke
d the top and took a long drink. “Yeah. Hunter even called Fisher to make sure he was all right.”

  “That phone call?”

  “You were there?” She smacked herself on the forehead. “Of course, you were there. So what’d he look like? Damn, I wish you could have gotten a picture. I’d loved to have seen the look on Fisher’s face. So, has he told you yet?”

  Jessie ran her hands through her hair and tugged it so tight, her eyebrows rose. “Yeah, but he’s wrong.”

  “I don’t think so.” Karma looked at Jessie and winced. Ouch, that’s gotta hurt. Karma would have paid to have seen a shot of Jessie’s face during that conversation too—especially seeing how well she was taking this whole love thing.

  “If I just ignore it, maybe when his brain heals, he’ll come to his senses.”

  “Wow, denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, is it? So what’s your excuse?”

  “My excuse for what?” Jessie released her hair, thank God. Karma didn’t think she’d want to walk down the aisle bald.

  “For falling in love with Fisher.”

  “I’m not in love with Fisher.”

  “Uh-huh, sure. Maybe you need a conk on the head to knock some sense into you.”

  “I have enough sense to know that romantic love doesn’t exist. It’s lust, plain and simple.”

  Karma shrugged and took another sip of water. This could take awhile. “Okay, you’ve been in lust before, right?”

  Jessie nodded, but eyed her as if she were looking for Karma’s angle. Smart girl.

  “Did the guys you were in lust with drive you nuts the way Fisher does?”

  “No. But then I never spent much time with them.”

  “And why was that?”

  “Because I didn’t want to.”

  “And I suppose if one of them had gotten hurt, you would have been there for him, taken care of a guy you never spent much time with, right? You’d spend the night, waking him up every hour to make sure he didn’t slip into a coma and die, worry about him doing laundry behind your back, make sure he took his medicine.”