WindSwept Narrows: #3 Emily Temple

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  Emily Temple

  WindSwept Narrows

  Book Three

  Karen A. Nichols

  Copyright 2011 by Karen A. Nichols

  Smashwords Edition

  Published by Karen Nichols. Copyright, Karen Nichols. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  Jonathon “Jack” Garrett was kicked back behind the large glass display case, his feet up as he worked to sort the new batch of stones he’d bought. He knew there were at least four newly engaged and one married in his friend’s circle recently. And he sold them first class gems for the occasion. Chet was busy working on matching rings for the men as well as matching bands that the engagement ring would lock into. All good for business.

  The magnifying glass fell from his eye when he lifted his head, tilting it and grinning. His neighbor was opening her shop, singing to the music she had playing. The last couple days had been rocking music, this morning her voice was belting out Celine Dion.

  And Jack knew she was alive. Following a ritual he’d begun two weeks ago, he rose and stretched, ambling to the walkway outside their shops, hands casually sunk in his pockets. Moving to the edge, he turned and seemed to be studying the display window, his palm up and stroking slowly over the slight growth on his face.

  This morning she was wearing shimmering pale green harem pants that rode low on her very feminine hips. The top stopped beneath her breasts with buttons down the front and a scooped neckline. Very I Dream of Jeannie, considering the pale brown hair was pulled into a long ponytail at the top of her head. She had one ear pod in, singing happily and dancing around the store. Her palm lifted and she waved with a bright smile, continuing around the room opening doors and straightening costumes.

  Jack went inside with a long sigh. She was getting used to him in their mornings. He caught sight of himself in his own display window, comfortable khaki shorts with big pockets, a bright and baggy flowered Hawaiian print shirt and scruffy growth on his face. He’d shaped it up a bit this morning so it wasn’t looking quite so backwoods.

  Gradually the music was lowered and he heard talking. He knew her assistant, Grace arrived about the same time as his partner, Chet came through the backdoor. Both were barely in their twenties and usually went off to lunch together.

  “So did you already ogle Em today?” Chet set down the large cup of fresh coffee on the counter and kicked back in a chair further to the back of the store where his tools were for creating the designs drawn up by the two of them. He held a steaming cup of coffee between his hands.

  “Hmm…I Dream of Jeannie this morning,” Jack answered, peering through the jewelers’ glass and separating gems on the black velvet fabric board.

  “So what’re you waiting for? She’s single,” Chet continued casually.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” He looked up with a frown, a thought occurring to him a second later. “Do you talk about this with Grace?”

  “Naw…figure it’s your life,” Chet answered with a shrug.

  “Yeah…I used to actually believe that,” Jack returned dryly, his head shaking. “I got three weeks of vacation left and I want it in peace.”

  “Grace said Em thinks it’s kinda cute…that you must be the shy reserved type,” Chet went on, chuckling at the pale lashes narrowed in his direction.

  “I thought you said you didn’t discuss me with Grace?”

  “Hey, you don’t have to say anything for girls to talk about stuff,” he answered, slipping his ear pods into place and searching for his goggles.

  Jack went silent, peering through the glass at the bright sunshine outside.

  Several hours later, Jack was certain he would never forget the date and exact time that chaos arrived, upsetting his carefully constructed peace cart all over the shiny hardwood floor of his shop. It arrived in a slinky looking pale green harem outfit, wearing a brilliant white smile, dangling hoop earrings and several gold and silver bangles on her wrists and no shoes.

  “Hi…” Emily Temple stepped carefully over the edge of the floor, eyes aimed down momentarily at the bare feet choosing their way to avoid tripping.

  “Good morning,” Jack returned, looking quickly behind him and then at the clock. Chet and Grace had left for lunch. An observer he didn’t need. He set the jewelers glass down and leaned back in the high stool.

  “I thought it was time we met and I actually have a couple things to discuss with you,” Emily told him, a serious expression on the full bow of her lips.

  “Do tell…” He stood up and extended his palm. “Jack Garrett.”

  “Oh…Emily Temple,” her palm fit nicely into his with a firm shake. She dropped her hand to her side, gazing at the various displays hanging on the walls. “You have some beautiful jewelry,” she complimented, wandering to one of the hanging cases with dozens of intricately carved bangles.

  “Thanks…we try.”

  “Do you make them?”

  Jack mentally smacked himself, blinked and sunk back to the stool. She had the biggest, widest most innocent looking brown eyes he’d ever seen. And there was no fake make up accenting them. A soft, oval face with high cheeks and a long, slender neck. And that was before his eyes drifted over the slinky outfit.

  “I do some of the designs…Chet does some. He’s the metallurgist in training, let’s say…I can create…I like designing and finding us good deals on supplies,” he answered honestly. “So what did you want to discuss?”

  “Well…first, I hope my music doesn’t bother you,” Emily beamed a bright smile at him, her hands moving expressively. “It’s just such a great way to get the blood moving in the morning…and it’s been so nice and warm, I can’t stand having the doors closed. I need air flow.”

  “I like music, you’re safe,” he replied with a crooked grin.

  “Okay, good…since we’re neighbors, it’s important,” full lips pulled into a taut bow. “I need a ring…” She announced firmly. “And I thought, you being an expert, maybe you can help me figure out which would be best.”

  “For you…for your guy,” he asked, trying to sound casual.

  “No guy. But I’m not sure if a wedding ring is right or if an engagement ring would work better,” she continued, small hands on the edge of the glass case, eyes peering inside at the collection.

  “Not a guy…a girl?” The words gurgled out of his lips.

  “A…” Emily met his eyes, blinking and then widening, her laugh bright. She watched the color flush into his tanned cheeks. “Oh, no…no…it’s for me,” she assured him with a soft laugh.

  “But there’s no guy in the middle? Usually…”

  “Well, Jack Garrett, that is whe
re your expertise comes in,” she informed him with one finger aimed at him. She pulled a stool behind her and plopped down, elbows on the case and fingers entwined. She rested her chin thoughtfully on the tops, unaware of the view she afforded him down the front of her top. “It isn’t necessarily your expertise as a jeweler that I need so much as your expertise as a guy. And please, don’t take this personal…”

  “It’s only noon, Emily and you’ve got me confused and intrigued,” Jack leaned back and closed his eyes, but the image of the full breasts remained in his mind. He looked up to see her staring at him thoughtfully.

  “Men are pigs,” she declared simply, her finger raised thoughtfully. “Not all men, of course. But in the shop, I have come to the conclusion that guys out escorting their girls around are mostly pigs. They have a perfectly nice woman on their arm, holding hands, some of them are even married…and what do they do? Stare and flirt with us like they’re twelve, for pity sakes! A guy even patted Grace on the…well…you know…”

  “In defense of pigs,” Jack began when he stopped laughing. “You’re wearing a harem outfit, Emily…as a guy, I can’t say as I blame them. Although a do not touch sign should be observed unless removed,” he added hastily.

  “Well…thank you…but that’s not the point,” she eyed him critically. “Do you get hit on more because of what you chose to wear?”

  Jack opened his mouth and closed it with a snap.

  “I’m a girl! I like being a girl! I like the clothes I get to wear and I like being me…I have to give up being me ‘cause some guys can’t keep to their own property? I don’t think so,” she declared hotly. “I’m going to be a very unhappy camper if I have to start wearing turtle necks and long pants.”

  “That would be a shame,” he agreed sincerely.

  “It really is…rude…they have their girl with them right there…right next to them…and they flirt and…and…” she shuddered delicately. “It’s disgusting.”

  Jack wasn’t sure turtle necks and jeans would even hide her curves. Definitely a different visual.

  “You know…I have this outfit from the Van Helsing movie. Anna wore it. And I am very sure it wouldn’t be any less a deterrent to the pigs of the world. So…I came up with this other idea,” she returned to her train of thought with a smile.

  “A ring?”

  “Yes…don’t you think it’s a good idea?” She breathed hopefully.

  Jack closed one eye and leaned closer, his voice low. “The finest jewels in the world are kept untouchable, behind locked doors, Emily.”

  “Oh.” She turned that bit of information over, her lip pulled between her teeth.

  “To some guys…it would almost be a challenge,” he watched his words sink in, their eyes in a long, silent stream. He found himself wondering what it would be like to bring fire into those eyes, shaking himself mentally and sinking back in his seat.

  “So you don’t think it’s a good idea,” she exhaled deeply, lips pursed thoughtfully.

  “Okay…it would work on me…you know why?”

  Emily stared into his eyes. She liked his eyes. They were a pretty dark green. “Because you have honor,” she said after a quiet minute. “And integrity. And you wouldn’t poach…but more importantly…you wouldn’t want to hurt the girl you’re with,” she answered softly.

  Jack felt his breathing slow, his gaze trapped between the wide eyed innocence in her eyes and the sensual bow of her mouth. Maybe he was coming down with something?

  “But all men aren’t like you, Jack,” she swallowed and turned her gaze back to the trays of rings in the display.

  “It’d probably work on fifty percent of the guys, Emily,” he answered flatly.

  “And the other fifty percent…”

  “Still pigs,” he said with a rueful nod.

  “Hmmm…well, the odds aren’t that bad,” she said cheerfully, looking up with a smile. “I think I’ll make it a wedding band…”

  Jack just slid the door open and reached for a tray backed with red velvet, sliding it over the glass top toward her.

  Emily let her fingers move over the array of gold and silver bands, each intricately carved. Some set in silver or white gold with a contrasting color metal on the edges. She looked up to find him staring at her.

  “You and Chet do some beautiful work, Jack,” her fingers paused over a slender band with Celtic carvings etched into the white metal.

  “That’s white gold inlaid in yellow gold.”

  “It’s the Celtic symbols that I like…” she lifted one and slid it onto her finger, admiring the shining white gold. “This one,” she said with a nod, her head up and eyes wide, hands automatically going to where her pockets would have been. She held up one hand, her finger raised. “Be right back…no pockets…oh…how much is it?”

  “Seventy five,” Jack answered, his look bemused as she moved toward the door.

  “Okay, be right…ohhhh! Excuse me…” Emily had been moving backwards, about to turn when her body came up hard against another. Her eyes went wide immediately when the glint of steel flashed before her eyes and rested against her throat, just beneath her chin. She froze, brown lashes blinking, her breath frozen in her chest even though she felt her heart beating a hundred miles an hour.

  Chapter Two

  “You…” He looked directly at Jack, his head shaking. “Nothing stupid…nice and quiet or the little girl gets hurt,” were the words spoken roughly next to her ear.

  “You seriously need a bath,” she stated, her nose wrinkled and a wince crossing her features when his hand tightened painfully. Her gaze caught on the pale lashes, Jack’s hands went flat against the top of the glass display case. She saw his eyes narrow, his jaw set.

  “Don’t move,” ordered the large dark male holding one arm tightly around Emily’s waist, the other gripping the large knife to her throat. “You give me that nice looking tray of rocks and I disappear…nice and quiet.”

  “Let the girl go…” Jack felt his knuckles whiten, forcing himself to lift his hands and slide the tray forward over the glass.

  “Yeah…no problem…but she does feel good…” He chuckled lewdly, his palm caressing along her side.

  Jack figured their conversation about males being pigs wasn’t working in the guys’ favor at the moment. He watched the scene and later wasn’t sure which had been worse, knowing she was pissed or watching her act on it. The guy holding her didn’t see her knee bend but he really felt it when she brought her heel down hard on the middle of his foot. Even through shoes, that had to hurt.

  Emily felt where his feet were with her own, bending her knee slightly and putting all her energy into the pound onto his foot. She thought it was okay. Thought she’d pushed at the right angle. He did miss her throat and she twisted at the same time Jack came around the counter and struck out hard with his fist.

  But the knife hadn’t quite cleared her body, slicing deeply into her side.

  The knife went skittering across the hardwood.

  Emily bit her lip and slid to the floor, the guy holding her slamming into the wood frame of the door before turning and taking off at a run.

  Jack dropped to his knees, his palms out and pressing the sides firmly together.

  “Chet!”

  “Yeah, yeah…just got…what the…holy shit!”

  “Get me a couple towels…NOW!”

  There were pounding feet over the wooden floor and he caught the towels thrown at him, pressing them firmly to her side, pulling the edges of the furrow together. He reached for his waist and swore.

  “Belt…shit, I don’t…gimmie your belt…” Jack caught the belt that was pulled quickly from Chet’s jeans. “Put those stones in the safe.” He wiped his hands on the back of his shorts and pushed a heavy breath between his lips.

  “I goofed,” Emily whispered raggedly, honey colored lashes fluttering. “I’m so sorry…”

  “This is not your fault,” Jack ground out, slipping the belt beneath her and cinchin
g it around her narrow waist, holding the towels in place. “I can’t do this without it hurting, Emily…but we gotta get you to the hospital…”

  “I’m good…don’t worry…it’s okay…” she assured him, gazing up at him trustingly. “Hardly hurts at all.”

  “Liar. Call the cops,” Jack tossed over his shoulder, looking down at Emily. “Put your arms around my neck…good girl…” he carefully gathered her in his arms, holding her against him before he stood up slowly. “Tell them we had an attempted robbery…assault with a deadly…don’t touch the knife…I’ll be at St. Michael’s…you got my number…let Grace know…” He continued past the stunned Chet out their back door and to the SUV parked next to the bright red sports car. He propped her up on the seat, pulling the buckle over her, hoping it would help keep things tight until he got her to the hospital.

  Emily pushed her head back, concentrating on keeping her head up. The slamming of the car door made her eyes open. Tears fogged her vision and slid slowly down her cheeks.

  “I really hate pigs…” She sighed thickly, a soft groan breaking free.

  “Stay with me, Emily…”

  “It hurts, Jack…” She whispered hoarsely, focusing on the sparkling lights flickering inside her head.

  “Yeah…I know…” he cursed softly. “Keep talking to me, Emily…”

  “I made a mess on the floor…and my pants…maybe I can soak the blood out,” she rambled. “Am I going to die?” She asked with the casualness that you’d use in looking at the weather.

  “You are not going to die, damn it,” Jack threw back with a growl.

  “It’s okay…I don’t think dying would be so bad…kind of like a long, long dream of nothing, I think…there would be no pain…no memories…no one could ever hurt you again…” Emily gripped the seat belt tightly, eyes closed and tears sliding over her cheeks. “I want to be cremated, though…I probably should make a will…you’ll remember that, though. Just in case…”