“So are you Emma’s?” Serena asked him.

“Nah,” Spence said easily. “She wouldn’t have me.”

“She always was shortsighted.”

Spence grinned.

“We’re just friends,” Emma said a little tightly. “Though sometimes I wonder why…”

Spencer kept on grinning, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Are you from New York, too?” Serena asked him.

“Yep. Dr. Spencer Jenks, but any friend of Emma’s can call me Spence.”

“Oh, we’re not friends,” Serena told him, still studying his face. “I used to torture her in first grade. But I did try to make it up with brownies the other day. Double fudge, warm, soft, out-of-this-world brownies…”

Spencer groaned appreciatively. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

Serena smiled. “I have a fresh batch…I could share.”

“I like the sound of that,” Spence assured her. He had the syringe in his hand, low at his hip where Serena couldn’t see.

Emma had always scoffed at that practice. In her opinion, assuming the patient wasn’t a kid, she believed they wanted things upfront and honest.

“What else do you make?” he asked Serena.

“Name it.”

“Really? God, I love a woman with talent in the kitchen.”

Serena smiled. “Honey, I’ve got talents in every room of the house, trust me.”

He laughed again, clearly enjoying the unmistakable hum of attraction between them. “Not fair,” he said. “I hiked all day and I’m starving. Tell me what you have in your front case,” he directed, “and I’ll pretend it’s right here in front of me.”

“Oh, you should see today’s pies.” Serena’s eyes were closed and she smiled dreamily. “I love pies. They’re my specialty.” Her lips curved. “Amongst other things, of course.”

“Of course. But what’s your favorite?”

“Pumpkin. My pumpkin pie is completely and totally out of this world.”

“I bet. A quick prick now,” he murmured. “That’s it, that’s all there is. Keep breathing. So do you use whipped cream on that…?”

Much later that night, Emma lay in bed staring at the ceiling trying to figure things out. Why she suddenly felt so restless. So out of place in her own skin.

So…alone.

She didn’t have to be. Stone had made that clear. What she hadn’t told him was exactly how tempted she was to go to his cabin and take him up on his offer.

He could alleviate all her restlessness, and leave her humming with pleasure while he was at it. But…

But.

Something about his challenge to connect with him scared her, because she knew that she could connect with him, big time.

And then she’d leave.

It was in the cards, the plan all laid out—as soon as her dad was better, she was gone.

Even she couldn’t repair a broken heart.

Chapter 20

Emma dreamed about Stone and woke up wishing he was in bed with her. What was up with that? She got up and showered, and thought about how it’d feel to have him soaping her up.

Okay, this Stone obsession she had? It had to stop. In fact, she wasn’t going to think about him again.

For at least five minutes.

Helping with that, Spencer made an extravagant breakfast, waiting until she took her first bite and moaned in amazed culinary pleasure before he leaned in. “Em.”

“Ohmigod.” The perfect way to put Stone out of her head—with food. “This is fantastic.”

“Of course it is. Listen, you know I’m leaving in two days. I have a little favor.”

“Anything,” she murmured, shoveling in more food. “Name it.”

“I want to ask Serena out.”

She slid her gaze to his. “Serena, bitchy Serena?”

“She’s not all bitch.”

“Don’t fool yourself. She’s purebred bitch.”

“I can handle myself. Now take me out of my misery. Yes or no?”

She set down her fork. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“You won’t let her skin you and eat you alive?”

“Not on the first date,” he promised.

Emma picked her fork back up. The food was too good to let it go cold just because he wanted to get his heart kicked. “Will you still cook for me?”

He grinned. “Always.”

Later that morning, Missy Thorton came by the clinic carrying a casserole dish and Emma sighed. “What’s wrong today, Missy?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to bring you this.”

Emma peeked inside the casserole dish and went still.

“It’s tom yum goong. Hot and sour soup with shrimp.”

“Homemade Thai food?” she asked in disbelief.

“Stone mentioned you were lonely for it. My nephew’s niece spent a summer in Thailand. She has the most amazing recipes.” She tapped the dish. “I’ll need this back of course.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Emma was still staring down at the dish in stunned amazement when Harley stopped by for a tetanus shot because she’d sliced her finger on a rusty nail. In return, she fixed all the squeaky doors and gave the truck a tune-up.

Emma had three other patients that morning, and not one person asked for a real doctor, or suggested she confer with her dad. As a bonus, each paid with a check or cash.