Double Dare

by Melissa Whittle

  His heart broke for her, because he hadn’t known the details of her grief. “Emmaline, that’s not what I think I—”

  But she was already talking over him. “The guy I was with was gone in the wind. I was miscarrying in the hospital. I was losing so much blood. Sasha and Abigail were there, but like a kid who skinned a knee I was crying for my mommy.”

  Her chin jutted out and she shook her head, but it didn’t stop the tears. “My parents died in a car accident on their way to get to me. As their only child I got everything. Sweet Tooth wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t lost them. I wouldn’t have lost them if I hadn’t been some stupid twenty-year old thinking she was invincible.”

  She scrubbed at the tears. “So, you think I don’t understand grief? Even now you still think I’m just fluff. My surface level little mind couldn’t understand that someone died for you, and in their stead you got their family. You made a family, not by blood but through grief. Is it because I smile? I can find it in me to laugh? That I sometimes run down the street naked and that makes me less? If you loving me means I have to brood and walk around half dead, then you’re just a pigheaded bastard. And I don’t want you to love me any way.”

  Tobias stepped forward to close the distance between them. “Don’t touch me.” She put up her hands again as if to ward him off.

  He stuffed his hands in his pocket as the darkness that had been gone for weeks crept back in. “Will you listen to me?”

  “So you can tell me that I’m mistaken? I don’t know who I am, much less who you are? No, thank you. Don’t you dare call me Mallow, because that’s not all I am.”

  Like a soldier she rounded on her heel and marched away. He should have followed her, but the weight of her words kept him rooted to the spot. If she wasn’t right, he could have thought of a million things to say.

  A part of him had still been convinced there was no way she could see into the abyss and survive it. She’d made her world so damn sunny he couldn’t fathom darkness marring it, ever. What she’d gone through took strength to survive. It took even greater strength to live through it and still be that light. Like a dog in trash, he’d rolled around in the muck of grief, and strutted around as if it was a badge of honor.

  “You’re dumber than I thought,” George’s voice broke the quiet of the night.

  Tobias closed his eyes and then opened them as he turned. “God, you’re nosy.”

  The older man nodded. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  To his surprise, Tobias’ legs could move. The two men stayed silent as they circled the block and went farther, making it to the college campus. George sighed under the oak trees and finally spoke.

  “I don’t like you, but that’s a default setting for having sex with my daughter without marrying her first.”

  “That’s fair,” Tobias said.

  “I like you even less because you made her think you didn’t love her while she was alive.”

  Tobias steps faltered at that. “She told you that?”

  “You kept her your secret.”

  Tobias nodded. “Again fair. I thought she’d know I would give her the world.”

  “I can understand that sentiment. Many men have said I love you, turned around and hit a woman in her face. Those words are meaningless.”

  Tobias felt like he was taking a beating, but he nodded. “You’re right. And still it’s the one thing I regret. Never telling your daughter I loved her. If nothing else I want to say it to you now. I loved your daughter.” His throat clogged with emotion. “I miss her.”

  George didn’t speak and they went quiet again. Tobias’ chest hurt from trying to breathe through the grief and regrets. He closed his eyes and Brie’s face punched through his mind, stripping away reality.

  Her bottom lip, bigger than the top, curved into a smile. Her sharp chin was angled up as she laughed. Her eyes, the color of mocha, lit with humor, sharing a secret joke.

  “God, you’re thick in the head,” her voice filled with laughter. “But I love you, Merchant.”

  A sharp sting to his back brought him out of the memory. George’s eyes, Gabriella’s eyes, stared back at him. “Do you comprehend, my boy?”

  “I don’t.” He rolled his shoulders because George’s hand had to be made out of iron.

  The older man sighed. “I’m not blind. I saw the way you were looking at Sharp. It looks like more than lust. On her part…” He whistled. “Could have fried an egg on her head. That’s not run of the mill irritation. It’s not just anger either. If what you feel for her is a tenth of what you felt for my daughter, say it. Don’t mime it. Put your lips together and let the words come out. Your life will be better. I promise you. I wouldn’t be married this long if hadn’t learned to speak up.”

  “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say.”

  “Don’t count on it happening again because I don’t like you.” George stopped at the edge of the field Emmaline and Tobias had bungee jumped earlier. “I miss her, too. She’d have wanted you to be happy. She loved you.” George sighed. “I can see why when you’re screwing someone else’s daughter without marrying her first.”

  Since it seemed like a night of open-heart conversations. “Depending on how I can fix what I did tonight, I probably won’t be able to pay you back. Not for a long while.”

  “Never needed to.”

  Tobias shook his head. “But I needed to. I have to do it the right way.”

  “You’re stubborn.”

  “You’re a ray of sunshine.”

  George smiled at him. “You’re learning.”

  *****

  Emma punched the lightly floured roll of dough on her home’s kitchen island. The room around her buzzed with absolute happiness. Her friends and her adopted family member had rallied around her, assuming that if she didn’t have time to think about Tobias, she wouldn’t fall into despair. They’d asked for obscure desserts. They followed her around at work.

  But they weren’t in her bed at night when missing Tobias consumed her thoughts and stole sleep. It had only been four days and she couldn’t stand it anymore. Apparently, four days had been enough to accumulate anger. At least that emotion was easier to deal with than the deep ache in her chest.

  “It’s cute, really, that you’ve sided with Emma,” Abigail said to Josh who was on his third slice of cake.

  She shifted on the lone bar stool. Her sweater and sweats were endearing, because Emma knew her friend didn’t usually don sports’ wear. It said, in no uncertain terms, they would be depressed together.

  “Emmaline,” Josh corrected before consuming another piece of fluffy white cake. “She prefers Emmaline.”

  “Don’t you have nerve?” Abigail scowled at the boy, but turned around to pick up another cookie, and so he couldn’t see the smile. She faced him again. “But you’re of the male species. In a time like this no one from the Y chromosome is welcome here.”

  “He’s welcome here,” Emma growled and punched the dough again.

  Sasha, as she had been doing all four days, flitted around the kitchen in another gauzy frock. If you were depressed you looked your best, the outfit said.

  At Emma’s words though, the room went silent, but all she did was punch the pliable dough and it wasn’t Tobias face she imagined but her own. She’d been right to take him to task. No, he didn’t understand her depth. No, she didn’t have to prove her worth either.

  Punch.

  But how could he see a different side if she had always been too scared to show him? In fairy tales the hero intuited all there was to the heroine. The Prince just knew, through osmosis, that the Princess would awake with a kiss. One small interest and the Prince would know a library would make her pass out. He would just know.

  Punch.

  No doubt about it, it was romantic and gave her heart a flutter. Yet, time after time she’d always wondered why couldn’t the Princess do it all on her own? Maybe, just maybe, if the Princess didn’t eat the damn apple to begin with she would
n’t need the Prince to kiss her to break the spell. What idiot took fruit and ate it based on a haggard old woman’s say so?

  Punch.

  Punch.

  Oh, Emma had every right to be pissed. But the lie she kept telling herself was the outburst had nothing to do with feeling so vulnerable. That while she waited for any sign or actual words, anything would have made her pick a fight and call the entire relationship off. She had left before he had the chance to remind her that they weren’t each other’s type. She’d broken the one non-negotiable rule of creating a fantasy of him. A man so astute, so all-knowing had to see she loved him.

  Punch.

  Punch.

  Punch.

  “I think you’re done kneading, don’t you dear?” Sasha cooed softly. Her friend’s hands rubbed her rubbery arms.

  “I’ve ruined it.” Emma moved from under the comforting touch and picked up the dough to throw in the trash.

  “Wait.” Josh moved from the spot at the island. He hadn’t twitched most of the Saturday and it forced Emma to stop. “Uh, I’ve seen you do this before. Wait,” he said again.

  At the sink he washed his hands and then picked up the bowl and cloth she had put aside earlier. He took the pitiful dough and placed it in the bowl.

  “You told me the hard part is waiting for the bread to rise. Put it in a warm, dry place and it can be salvaged.” He laid the cloth over the bowl. “Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not rising.”

  She’d told Tobias that Josh was sharp. Funny she’d forgotten just how much. He held her gaze and she nodded. “Bats,” she said to him, finally getting the muttering days before.

  “All of you,” he agreed and then shrugged. “I’ve got homework.”

  Emma frowned at the bowl, knowing despite the beating she gave the dough, it would rise into bread. “Bats.” She smiled.

  “I’m missing something,” Sasha said.

  “Bats are blind. Can’t see what’s right there in front of them. And,” Emma patted at the cloth, “Merchant men tell you everything with their actions.”

  “Now,” Abigail said, “I’m lost.”

  “Sean,” Emma said and both women groaned. “Did he care when I went into date mode?”

  “I don’t think he was even aware you had one.” Abigail went for another cookie.

  Emma asked, “Did he understand our dares?”

  “He thought they were amusing but immature.” Sasha beat Abigail to the last Caramel Drop.

  “Would he have ever bungee jumped with me?”

  “No,” both women said.

  “Would a man like Tobias do it just for kicks? No. That’s fun guy stuff. He’s not. He’s dour, surly and a know-it-all who sees disasters at every turn. He lectured me about being naked after kissing me senseless. So, why would he bungee jump when I asked him?”

  “A better question is why would a man like that not talk you out of it?” Sasha said, frowning at the empty plate. “We need more cookies.”

  And a man who truly believed she was only surface level wouldn’t have bothered to tell her about a fiancée who died tragically. He’d been surprised at how she took it, but he never thought not to tell her. He’d wanted that intimacy and now Emma needed to give it back. How?

  Hell.

  “It’s getting cold,” Sasha said absently. “I can’t find any jacket. Can I borrow that leather one in the front closet? It’s my style.”

  Emma smiled then. “No. It’s mine, and I’m tired. Make your own cookies. I’ll tell Josh to cook up that bread since he’s eating me out of house and home.”

  “Damn, Tobias,” Abigail complained half-heartedly.

  “She was so complacent and Betty Crocker before him.” Sasha shook her head sadly but grinned.

  “I was.” Emma smiled. “But, you’re right, it’s getting cold out and autumn is officially here. I’ll find good use for that jacket.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It felt like deja vu walking into Sweet Tooth, except the wrong person stood guard at the counter. Tobias crossed his arms when he stopped at the display case. Josh mimicked the move, kept his silence and glared. The damndest thing, Tobias understood the anger radiating off his brother.

  Tobias screwed up so he said it. “I screwed up.” In reply Josh shrugged, so Tobias went on, “I treated her like I treated you.” Another shrug. “I assumed certain things and it made an ass out of just me.”

  “She’s not baking, you bastard,” Josh said. “Not like she used to for everybody.”

  Tobias brows rose. “Shit.”

  “She loves baking.” Josh uncrossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “So unless you’re here to make it right, turn around and leave. I won’t let you hurt her again.”

  “I know.” Tobias rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m here to fix…” He trailed off because his brother wasn’t done, so he waited.

  “I know you loved Gabriella. I loved her, too. I miss her, but that doesn’t mean you cut yourself off.” Josh sighed with frustration. “Man, look, I know you think I don’t know what’s going on, but I do. I know you wouldn’t be this stupid if you didn’t care about her. You only act stupid when you’re scared, and I know you’re scared of losing her, but you’ve already made a death-defying leap with Emmaline. Do it this time with words.”

  Tobias’ mouth quirked into a half smile. “Which class gave you that gem?”

  “Interpersonal Communications.”

  “You pick up fast.”

  Josh grinned. “Do you love her?”

  The fist that had been squeezing his heart since the last time he’d talked to Emmaline loosened. “Yes.”

  “Ok,” his brother accepted without any more questions. “Look dejected and ask in a low-hushed voiced for your jacket back. It ought to piss her off enough to talk to you. Tell her I went on break. I’ll lock up so you guys won’t get any interruptions.”

  Tobias laughed. “I think I can handle the rest.”

  “You better. I like Emmaline and everything, but her friends are driving me nuts. Too much estrogen in one household is not good for me. I need another man around.”

  “Shut up.” But Tobias grinned at his brother. Josh grinned back.

  *****

  “I’m here to get my jacket back,” Tobias said.

  Emma jumped, almost taking off her finger with a chef’s knife. She sighed and it sounded wistful because his shirt was white. Glancing down at the icing on the baking sheet, she straightened her spine.

  “It’s mine. Spoils of war. You can’t have it.”

  Turning, she pulled out the second to last layer of the wedding cake from the ’fridge and laid the icing on top.

  “I beg to differ, Emmaline.”

  She jolted at the way he said it, the same reaction she always had, and ripped the sheet of ivory icing in half. “Crap.”

  She glared at Tobias. He was the last person she expected to walk into her kitchen, but had so desperately wanted to walk in. She’d been building up the courage to cross the street. Until it came, she decided to get started on the Whitmen’s cake.

  She moved her gaze to the ruined icing and tossed it in a tray she had just for that purpose. “You used to be a cop. You should know possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

  What was she saying? I love you wanted to dribble out of her mouth, but he had that damn blank slate face that told her nothing of how he felt about her. Was this his way of saying good-bye or something else? And now was not the time to be having this conversation. She didn’t like anyone to watch as she made the wedding cakes. Not that her ego couldn’t take it. She decorated the hell out of them. It was the little problem at the end. Okay, today she just couldn’t get overly emotional and cry like a baby.

  “I’m not a cop anymore.”

  She peeled out another ball of fondant and began to flatten it to the size she needed. “I’m not giving the jacket up, and if you’re going to stand there with that blank face, don’t talk.”
<
br />   “The offer still stands. If you don’t know how I feel then ask me.”

  She softened like the icing under the rolling pen. She sniffed, more irritated than appeased by the fleeting emotion. “I shouldn’t have to. It’s your problem, and that’s not me trying to change you. Or turning you into a fantasy. You of all people should have the balls to say exactly how you feel.”

  “You’re right.” He nodded.

  Again, she ripped the icing. Again she tossed it in the tray. She let out a frustrated breath. “Oh, don’t try to be a pigheaded ass right now to get me to react to you. It’s not going to work.”

  “And you’re not telling me how you feel either. Back to an impasse.”

  She wiped her trembling hands on a moist towel and went to the oven, pulling out what would be the small take home cakes and placed them on counter. Anyone else and she’d have kicked their butts out of the kitchen, but Tobias…

  She sighed for like the hundredth time and finally met his gaze, because he was right. Hadn’t she learned anything? Maybe if she hadn’t been busy trying to be Mary Poppins and Betty Crocker and doing her best not to show depth they wouldn’t be in this mess.

  Well, they probably would be because it took both of them to get here, but the point was she had depth. Showing it didn’t mean providing proof that darkness inside her existed. Showing it meant living. It meant being herself—Emmaline.

  “I’m mad at you.” She went back to the island, and he stayed by the opening of the kitchen. Picking up the rolling pen, she shook her head. “No, I’m pissed.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Since that’s the second piece of icing you’ve ruined, I’m going to say you’re infuriated by the sight of me.”

  She pursed her lips to keep from smiling and pulled out yet another ball of icing and rolled it flat. The knot in her stomach loosened. “I’m infuriated that you just stand there with your hands in your pockets gauging my reaction. Why can’t you just say what you’re feeling right now? But no that’s too much like real communication. I don’t need you to be my Prince Charming. I don’t need you to sweep me off my feet. I need you to trust me to understand even if you believe it’s beyond my understanding.”