by Joss Wood
She had to resolve this issue fast. She would not risk Arnott’s: her dad lost his wife when Vernon Lowell ran away with his and his clients’ money, and Arnott’s was now her dad’s refuge and his true love.
He wasn’t a great dad, probably wasn’t even a good one, but he was hers and she had to protect him, protect their name and the source of their income.
And keep Nico at a distance until she had the dirt she needed to force him to leave her alone. Because there was dirt, of this she was certain.
Matt was saved from having to respond to her question when arms encircled her neck and a masculine jaw rubbed her cheek. She recognized the scent of Davy’s soap and pushed her way to her feet, turning to hug her big brother.
After a minute, maybe two—Davy was super affectionate and loved to hug—Emily pulled back and gripped his shoulders. “Davy. How was your week, honey?”
“Angel! You’re here. I’m so happy to see you!” Davy responded. “And my week was good.”
His curious eyes, the same purple-blue shade as hers, bounced between her and Matt.
“Who’s he?” Davy whispered. “He needs a haircut but I do like his watch.”
Emily saw Matt’s mouth twitching and knew that Matt had heard his not-so-quiet words. Matt, to her surprise, held out his hand for Davy to shake. “I’m Matt. And you’re right, I do need a haircut.”
Matt released Davy’s hand and gestured him to the spare seat next to Emily. “Take a seat, Davy. I’m about to have breakfast. Would you like to join me?”
Davy sat down and nodded. “I always have pancakes on Saturday.”
“Are the pancakes good?” Matt asked.
Emily was impressed by Matt’s easy way of talking, his open expression. So many people talked down, or slowly, to people with special needs, and more than a few were openly patronizing. Matt, bless him, just acted normally.
“So good. I like mine with bananas and peanut butter,” Davy told him.
“I see you and your brother share a love for bizarre food combinations,” Matt said to Emily, wincing at the thought.
Emily couldn’t help her grin. “Try it—I dare you.”
“And what will you reward me if I do?” Matt asked, amusement in his eyes.
Emily’s eyes dropped to his mouth and she knew what he wanted. And damn, she craved that too but she couldn’t go there. Not now.
Probably never. A weight settled on her heart as the thought grew bigger and bigger in her head. He wasn’t the man for her, could never be the man for her. Not now because she was temporarily engaged and not later because she couldn’t risk loving another person and having him leave her. Once was more than enough.
She’d never put herself in that position again.
“My reward, Em?” Matt prompted her.
Oh, right. “I’ll pay for your breakfast,” she said, wishing she could tell him that what she really wanted was to be in his arms, to feel the rough scrape of his stubble against her skin, feel overwhelmed by his kisses.
“That’s not what you really wanted to say.”
Of course it wasn’t, but there was no way she’d ever admit that to him. She was already neck deep; she didn’t need to hasten her drowning.
Davy clapped his hands and Emily looked at him, then smiled at his beaming face. She turned to see who’d caught her brother’s attention and saw that it was Macy, who was approaching their table, intent on filling up Matt’s cup. It didn’t escape her attention that all of Macy’s attention was directed to Matt and Emily had yet to be offered coffee.
Macy looked at Matt, blushed and rocked from foot to foot. “Do you want more coffee?” Macy asked Matt.
Matt shook his head. “Thank you, Macy, I’ve had enough. But I’m sure Emily would like a refill.”
Emily felt a jolt of pleasure at his thoughtful gesture. “Thanks, Macy, that would be good. And could you ask the kitchen to bring us two plates of pancakes?” Emily arched her brows at Matt, openly challenging him. “Bananas and peanut butter?”
Matt pulled a face but didn’t, to his credit, back down. “Yes, bananas and peanut butter.”
“Brave boy,” Emily murmured.
“Payback will be fun,” Matt told her, his eyes suggesting that he’d like to take his revenge when she was naked and panting. Emily couldn’t stop herself from blushing, wishing she didn’t want that so damn much.
Because, really, life was complicated enough as it was...
Matt thanked Macy again before turning his attention back to Davy. He leaned across the table and tapped his finger against the dial of Davy’s watch. “I like your watch too, Davy. It’s pretty special. Where did you get it?”
Emily listened as Davy explained that his vintage Rolex was their grandfather’s, how his dad passed it to him when he turned twenty-one. “It’s not as fancy as yours, Matt—it doesn’t have as many buttons or numbers.”
Matt shook his head, not breaking eye contact with her brother. “But mine is new—it never belonged to my grandfather. That’s a pretty special thing.”
“Did you know your granddaddy?”
Emily saw pain flash in Matt’s eyes and saw his lips tighten. She waited for his reply, half expecting him to deflect Davy’s curious question. “No, I didn’t.”
Four words but they were infused with pain. Emily wanted to place a reassuring hand on Matt’s, to squeeze his arm. But she resisted the impulse. Matt was a proud man and wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. But, from the pain flashing in his eyes and the four words, she realized his relationship with his family wasn’t good. She sympathized; she wasn’t on any terms with her mom and knew how much it stung to be estranged from a parent.
“Do you play foosball, Matt? Angel and I always play foosball in the rec room. I kick her butt.”
Emily couldn’t let that falsehood go unchallenged. “Davy Arnott, you know that’s not true. I beat you more often than not.” Keeping her finger in the air, she pointed it in Matt’s direction. “And Davy is the only person, ever, who gets to call me Angel.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Matt smoothly replied. “Besides, you’re more of an imp than an angel.”
Emily grinned at him. That was one of the best compliments she’d ever received.
Matt’s lips curved and Emily felt her stomach flip over and wondered when the few butterflies in her stomach turned into a swarm.
Matt turned his attention to Davy. “After breakfast, I’ll play foosball with you. And, if you like, I’ll whip your angel’s butt for you.”
Matt met her annoyed glance with another of his devastating smiles. “Stand down, imp, I called you his angel. And here comes Macy with our pancakes. And can I just ask, what exactly is wrong with bacon and maple syrup?”
* * *
She got her butt kicked at foosball. Davy, inspired by Matt’s take-no-prisoners policy, beat her by a few goals and then Matt thoroughly trounced her, much to Davy’s delight.
Nico, Emily couldn’t help thinking as she walked at Matt’s side to their respective cars in the parking lot, hadn’t even bothered to talk to Davy. A strange attitude since he was going to be the guy’s brother-in-law. In fact, this whole engagement was super strange; Nico, apart from a few text messages, hadn’t made contact with her since his proposal—could you call a blackmail demand a proposal?—nearly ten days ago.
She wasn’t complaining but it was weird...
“Your brother is a trip.”
Emily smiled at his words. “I’m sure playing foosball isn’t how you spend most of your Saturday mornings.”
“No, I normally spend my morning at my computer catching up on everything I didn’t get to during the week. This was a nice change of pace,” Matt replied. “I had as much fun as he did—it was nice to have some fun and easy company.”
Emily, her bag over her shoulder, tucked her hands in the ba
ck pockets of her jeans. She’d enjoyed her morning far more than expected; it had been a nice change of pace for her too. And, let’s be honest here, she never expected Matt Velez to be the type to play foosball with not only Davy, but some of the other guys in the rec room. They’d invited him to play basketball with them and he said he couldn’t but that he’d be back to kick their asses.
His easy, normal ribbing delighted Davy and his friends. Of course, she didn’t expect him to return to Brook Village—he was a busy guy with a demanding career—but he’d brightened their morning and for that, Emily was grateful.
“You’re obviously committed to this place—how long have you been sitting on the fundraising committee?” Matt commented.
“I’ve been sitting as a trustee on their board for a couple of years and took over the fundraising portfolio a few years ago.”
“You were about ten percent short of your fundraising goal last year—are you planning anything else to make up that shortfall?”
He really had done his homework. Matt, as she was coming to accept, wasn’t only sexy, hot and ripped but he was also full of surprises.
“I’d love to do more but with my work and my—” Emily hesitated, looking for the right words“—with Nico, I haven’t really given it much thought. I’m not sure I have the time to plan anything else.”
And she still had to start on her quest for information on Nico. She had no idea where to start. That had to go to the top of her priority list. She’d start trawling the internet for information on her fiancé when she got home, maybe look into what a private investigator charged. If she could find one who was affordable and discreet, hiring him, or her, might be an option.
Maybe she could tell the PI that she wanted some background information on her reticent fiancé, wanted to know more about him before she committed herself to this man.
That sounded reasonable, didn’t it?
Matt placed his hand on Emily’s forearm, his big hand easily wrapping around it. “You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?” Emily asked, trying to ignore her sizzling skin.
“You, mentally, wander off. I can easily see when you are miles away.”
Emily sighed. “I have a lot on my mind, Matt.”
“I know that.” Matt lifted his hand and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip and Emily wished he’d kiss her. Then she remembered that she was technically, albeit reluctantly, engaged and wasn’t allowed to kiss other men.
This engagement really wasn’t working for her. In a lot of ways...
“Do me a favor, imp?”
She so loved him calling her that. She shouldn’t but she did. “What?”
“If and when you decide you are out of your depth, call me.” Matt’s hand dropped to her hip and, before she could complain, he snagged her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Ignoring her attempt to snatch it from him, he slid his thumb across the screen and grinned when the phone opened.
“No passcode or thumbprint? You’re not very security conscious, Arnott.”
“It’s a phone, not nuclear codes.” Emily retorted. “And what are you doing with it?”
“Putting my number in your contacts.” Matt tapped the screen a few times before handing it back to her. Then his expression turned serious, and Emily saw the worry in his eyes. “Seriously, Em, call me. Call me anytime.”
It was so tempting but the risk was too great. Emily snatched her phone back and held it in a tight grip. “I keep telling you—I’m fine, Velez.”
Matt tapped her nose. “Thousands might believe you, my sexy imp, but, unfortunately for you, I don’t.”
Matt hit a button on his remote and a beautiful two-door Mercedes responded with a quiet whoop and the flash of pretty lights. Oh, she did like his car. It’s long svelte hood and curvaceous lines made it instantly recognizable. “It’s the new AMG GT C Roadster.”
Matt’s eyebrows rose. “It is. I only got it recently and I’m enjoying it. Do you like cars?”
“No, I love cars,” Emily said, walking over to the gorgeous vehicle and running her hand over its smooth hood. “She’s beautiful. And dangerous.”
Emily felt Matt stop behind her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him, smell his sex-and-soap scent. Why did he always have to smell so damn good?
“I like beautiful and dangerous,” Matt said, his knuckles running down the center of her back, stopping at the tip of her butt. He leaned forward and when he spoke, Emily felt his breath on the shell of her ear and his words deep inside her. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”
The residents of Falling Brook, most of whom knew her from the time she wore pigtails, saw her as being polite and hardworking, conscientious and as somebody who tried hard not to put a foot wrong or rock the boat.
She didn’t do drugs, smoke or sleep around but the fact that Matt saw her differently thrilled her.
Matt stepped away from her, opened his car door and slid inside. He hit the start button and the engine turned, raucous and cheeky. The driver’s window slid down silently and Matt nodded at her phone before pinning her with a hard look. “Don’t hesitate to call me, imp.”
Emily needed to say something, anything. “I’m very independent and I don’t rely on anybody for anything.”
“Then why are you getting married, Emily?”
Damn, she’d walked straight into that. Because he’d backed her into a corner, Emily went on the offensive. “If I was a guy, would you be saying the same thing?” Emily challenged him.
“No, because you’re not a guy, you’re a woman I want and can’t have.” Matt pushed both hands into his hair, obviously frustrated. “And that’s wrong on so many levels.”
“Not used to being thwarted?” Emily taunted him.
“I always get what I want. Eventually.” Matt nodded at her phone still in her hands. “At the risk of repeating myself, call me. For anything...”
Emily raised her eyebrows, unable to stop herself from flushing. Anything? Anything at all? And, yes, she was tempted.
Not that she’d ever, ever admit that to him.
Five
Emily pushed her salad leaves around her plate, idly thinking that time dragged when you weren’t having fun. Nico had called her shortly after she returned from Brook Village and told her he was back in town and that they were going to dinner at L’Albri, a fine, French-inspired restaurant situated on the main street in town. It was a see-and-be-seen restaurant, upmarket and very snobby.
Emily hated the food, the small portions, the supercilious waiters and the sheer pretentiousness of the place. She’d far prefer to be eating a burger down the road at Al’s Diner but Emily knew that Nico would rather die than be seen at the real, homey and down-to-earth eatery.
Soon after finishing his fish dish, Nico had excused himself to talk to a potential client across the room and left her alone at the table. That had been twenty-five minutes ago. He’d interrupted a private dinner and Emily could see the frustration on their trying-to-be-polite faces.
Unlike Matt, Nico had no idea about social cues.
She had to stop thinking about Matt Velez, comparing him to Nico. But she couldn’t help it; they were complete opposites. Matt’s hair was dark and unruly, he was olive-skinned and his dark eyes radiated intelligence.
Nico kept pushing his limp, dishwater-blond hair out of his cold, light, malicious eyes, and while he could be good looking if he smiled, he rarely did.
Like all women her age, she enjoyed a guy’s good looks but she wasn’t that shallow that looks were the beginning and end of everything. Nico would be nice looking if he wasn’t a scum-sucking extortionist intent on blackmailing her into marriage.
Emily pushed her coffee cup away and, looking toward the front of the restaurant, smiled when she saw Gina standing at the concierge’s table. Waving her over, she grinned when her friend dropp
ed into the chair Nico vacated.
“Are you meeting someone?” Emily asked, happy to see her friend and to have some company.
“In ten minutes or so—you know that I like to get here early,” Gina replied.
“To see if he’s cute or not. If he isn’t you send him a text message claiming stomach flu,” Emily gently chided her.
Gina shrugged, unperturbed. “What’s the point in spending time with someone you aren’t, and could never be, attracted to?”
Then she added, sotto voce, “Unless you’re being blackmailed...”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Since you’re not going to finish this, may I?” Gina asked, pointing to Emily’s wineglass. When Emily nodded, Gina picked it up and took a healthy sip from her half-full glass. “How was dinner?”
“Interminable,” Emily admitted. “I’ve spent most of the evening imagining stabbing him with my fork.”
Emily tapped the table with her index finger. “Somehow Nico heard that Matt joined my fundraising committee and he warned me off him.”
Gina grimaced. “Yeah, they don’t like each other at all.”
“Matt and Nico?”
Gina slowly nodded. “Nico worked at MJR Investing and the rumor is that he and Matt were at loggerheads all the time. Like...one said blue, the other would say pink. They were also super competitive. But that’s just second-or third-hand gossip—I’m trying to find a direct source.” She paused, and then asked, “So what did you tell Nico about Matt?”
“I picked my words carefully, reminding him that Matt is an influential businessman and that I’m grateful he’s giving Brook Village his support. He called me naive, telling me that Matt never does anything out of the goodness of his heart.”
“And do you think that’s true?”
She did, actually; Gina’s earlier words about Matt being competitive rang true. Matt wanted her and Emily wasn’t sure that he’d want her quite as much if she wasn’t engaged to Nico. Matt liked to win and Emily felt a little like a bone two dogs wanted. Sure, he was attracted to her, but she doubted he’d be pursuing her quite so ardently if Nico wasn’t in the picture.