If You Dare

by Sandy Lowe

  “I’m not worried. I have something Lauren doesn’t.” Doug tapped his belt buckle and winked.

  It took Emma a second, but when she got it, she wrinkled her nose and shoved him. “That’s gross.”

  Doug grinned. “That’s not what Gayle says. I’m not worried about her. I’m worried about you.” Before Emma could point out that it was none of Doug’s business, he got there first. “I know you’re a grown woman who can make her own choices, and normally I wouldn’t interfere even if I thought you were wrong. But Jessica is spreading this rumor that you and Lauren are having BDSM sex.” Before Emma could reply, Doug put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Also, none of my business. But it’s getting around. People are talking. The town council is talking.”

  “The council is talking about my sex life?” All the blood drained from Emma’s head until the room began to sway. The mental picture of six council members convening in the Cupcake’s fussily decorated living room, sipping flowery tea and discussing her sexual proclivities made Emma want to laugh, puke, and run away all at the same time. God. Lauren had been dealing with exactly this kind of thing for weeks. Lauren had warned her that exactly this was bound to happen. How had she survived?

  Doug nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just a rumor at this point, and it will die down if you don’t do anything to keep it going. But the kink thing is an obvious target for gossip, and with Lauren’s history…”

  Doug let that last part hang and Emma’s desire to disappear was only outweighed by her anger. “It was a joke. Jessica was giving Lauren a hard time, and I made a joke. It’s not true, and even if it was, it’s no one’s business but mine.”

  “I know,” Doug said earnestly. “No judgment, I promise. I just thought you should know.”

  Emma stared at Doug helplessly, her heart sinking. Both of them thinking what neither of them had to say. Doug’s father had been chairman of the council the year Emma had graduated high school. The same year her mom decided that Emma was now a fully-fledged adult and up and moved to Florida without warning. Emma had been valedictorian, but she couldn’t even afford a loaf of bread let alone college. She didn’t blame her mom for doing what she’d needed to, but she’d had no one. The council stepped in to fund a scholarship that paid for college in exchange for her working in the library after graduation. That scholarship had set her future. It had saved her life.

  She owed this town. She owed the council. Not just her job as librarian, but because in all the ways that included caring about her future, the ragtag crew of octogenarians comprising the council, who were so often a pain in Emma’s ass, were also her family. They’d been there for her. They’d made a concession and given her hope. That council, and this town, was a part of her. Because of the chance they’d given her, she’d become strong and independent and able to handle anything life threw at her. Well, almost anything. Brenda Baker picturing her naked, tied up, and whipped, that she was pretty sure she couldn’t handle. The laugh-puke-run combo was an attractive option right about now.

  Emma rubbed a hand over her face. “Okay. So that’s not exactly good. But also, so what, right? I can handle a little embarrassment.”

  That was a bold statement she was none too sure she could actually live up to. But Lauren had survived much worse already, and Emma wasn’t going to leave her alone to endure more. Especially not when it had been Emma’s angry comeback to Jessica that had caused all the trouble.

  Doug leaned against the wall with his gaze on the floor. “I heard from Dad, who still has contacts on the council, they denied funding for the e-book lending program. They’re going to tell you tomorrow.”

  A boulder the size of a small island in the South Pacific lodged in Emma’s stomach. “What? You can’t be serious. My proposal was flawless. That program is going to increase circulation tenfold. We’ll be able to offer thousands—”

  “I know. But they denied it.” He shrugged, but there was nothing dismissive in the gesture. “If you ask, I’m sure they’ll say that your sex life is none of their business and that wasn’t why the program was denied, but we both know it’s a lie.”

  Emma’s legs had turned to jelly. The peanut butter sandwich she’d had for lunch was going to end up all over the floor. “That’s discrimination.”

  “Sure it is, but what are you going to do? Sue the people who sign your paycheck? Sue the reason you even have that paycheck?”

  “This is ridiculous,” Emma snapped. “It hurts the library, not me.”

  Doug gave her a soft look. “You don’t have to be brave with me. We both know it hurts you, Em. It’s a warning shot. If you keep seeing Lauren, who knows what they’ll do next. It won’t just be the library that suffers. If they find a reason to fire you, you’ll have to pay back the tuition money.”

  She shallowed hard and willed herself not to cry. “They wouldn’t do that.”

  Doug pulled Emma into his arms and rubbed her back briskly. “Probably not. But some people in this town are none too fond of Lauren and her mother. You don’t want to be caught up in all their drama. Why risk it? Sex isn’t worth your job. Isn’t worth the whispers and the stares. Just stay out of her way until she goes back to San Francisco, okay?”

  Emma pulled back to look up into Doug’s face, biting the inside of her cheek hard when she felt her eyes well. “What about Lauren? She hasn’t done anything wrong. What am I supposed to do, ghost her like she means nothing to me?”

  Doug’s hands moved to Emma’s shoulders and he gripped them hard. “Emma. You’re not in love with her, are you? Damn it, she’s never going to stay in this town. She ran away from here like her ass was on fire and everyone was glad to see her leave.”

  Emma’s anger surged again, burning away the tears. “You sound like you agree with them.”

  “Some people cause trouble wherever they go and never take responsibility for it, even when they’re the common denominator. I don’t know if Lauren’s mom did what people say she did. I don’t know if Lauren did what the media claims she did. But it’s mighty coincidental, don’t you think?”

  Emma waved a hand at him. “Why does it matter? Whether or not her mom took money for sex, or Lauren got it on in some kink club with a married woman. Does that make either of them so bad the town should treat them like lepers?”

  Doug looked exasperated. “You’re really gone over her to be asking a question like that. Prostitution is illegal in New York. Sleeping with a married woman, kink or not, isn’t okay.”

  “But ostracizing them and gossiping about them is when no one knows the truth,” Emma shot back, completely fed up with this conversation.

  “Hey!” Doug threw up his hands like Emma’s words had come to life and were about to smack him in the face. “I’m not doing either of those things. I don’t care about Lauren. I care about you.”

  Emma looked at her friend, the boy who’d been nice to her when he didn’t have to be. The boy who’d stood up for her against bullies and listened when she’d prattled on about literature like the characters in a book were real life friends. That boy was eons apart from this man. A man who couldn’t see how a simple comment like “I don’t care” spoke louder than any hateful action or hissed gossip. Indifference was worse than hate. To hate, you had to care. No wonder Lauren didn’t want her mixed up in this. But like it or not, she was thoroughly mixed, and she had a choice to make.

  Stand up or back down.

  Fight for Lauren or walk away.

  Be brave or give in.

  “I care about Lauren,” Emma said quietly. “What I said about whipping wasn’t true and if you want to filter that through the town gossip channels, I’d appreciate it, but I’m not going to stop seeing Lauren, not even if it costs me my job.”

  Doug stared. “You love her.”

  Emma just stared back. She had no idea if she loved Lauren. It was too soon. They had too much to figure out. They weren’t even officially dating, and the absurdity of losing her job over something that might end up be
ing nothing, the insanity of coming to the defense of someone who would probably just break her heart didn’t escape her. Lauren would likely leave town in another week or two, and she would spend the next forever picking up the pieces. But some things were worth the risk. Some things were bigger even than love. Emma was going to stand up to this, for Lauren.

  But mostly for herself.

  “I don’t know if we’re ready for love. But I do know that blackballing me because of who I date, or what I may do in bed, is wrong. I don’t agree with it and I’m not going to stop seeing Lauren. I’m not going to join the seemingly endless procession of people who’ve treated her as if she’s expendable. As if she doesn’t matter. She does matter. She’s a good person, and she needs someone to be there for her, to be on her side.” Emma sealed her lips shut. She’d said too much, but Doug hadn’t seen Lauren’s face when Jessica called her trash. Doug hadn’t seen the way Lauren had just checked out, gone blank, fuzzy static where her personality should’ve been. Emma knew trauma. Hers had been swift and cutting, the deep wound of a blade slicing through her life in one definitive swipe. Lauren’s trauma was different. Slower, and in many ways more insidious. If Emma’s world had been sliced in two one fateful night when she was sixteen, Lauren’s world was death by a thousand cuts. Shallow maybe, but enough to make her suffer. Emma couldn’t stand to watch her bleed.

  Doug pulled her in for another long hug. “You’re stubborn and entirely inflexible. I hope Lauren knows what she’s found in you. She’d better treat you right, or I’ll have a reason to believe what people say about her.”

  Emma hugged him back. Dread an anchor gluing her to the spot. Lauren wanted to know her, wanted to know her with an intensity that blew her away. But for Lauren it was all in fun, just a diversion before going back to San Francisco. Even if it wasn’t, even if there was nothing tying Lauren to the West Coast any longer, Emma couldn’t ask her to stay here. Not when this town had done everything to make her feel unwelcome. It wasn’t just the current spectacle and the gossip it generated that made Lauren hate Sunrise Falls, but years of gossip, of snide comments and casual snubs, because of how her mother had paid the bills as a single parent, because Lauren had been an angry and rebellious teenager, because if you were different in a small town, there was nowhere to hide.

  No. She couldn’t ask Lauren to stay, but she could stand up for her. She’d been a disaster around Lauren so far—not able to let go, not able to be vulnerable. But what she lacked in vulnerability she made up for in strength. Lauren’s story could’ve been her story. Change a few facts and shake well. It could’ve been her. Instead, Emma knew what it was to be alone in the world and have a community you could count on. She’d had people to support her and give her a home. Lauren hadn’t had that, maybe not ever. Could anyone blame her for being angry?

  Starting right now, Lauren had Emma, a community of two. She was going to stand for her, for them, for what was happening between them that just maybe, might be, falling in love.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The red brick library dated back to the 1800s, as old as Sunrise Falls itself. The town spent a small fortune repairing and maintaining this building and others just like it. Lauren didn’t get it. It would’ve been cheaper to knock it down and build something new. Something a little more durable, with a play area for kids, and a Wi-Fi connection that didn’t disintegrate the second you stepped too far to the left. Something that might actually serve the needs of the community. But history was the only feather in Sunrise Falls’ cap. When you had an aging population stuck in its ways, advancing into the future wasn’t an option. History was all you’d ever be remembered for. So, half the money her mom paid in town taxes went to fixing broken things that’d just break again soon enough.

  It wasn’t quite five, but the windows were dark and the wheelie cart full of discount books that usually sat by the entrance was nowhere in sight. She checked her texts again, rereading the one from Emma.

  Meet me at the library at five. I have something for you.

  Of course Emma texted in full sentences, complete with punctuation. She’d even spelled out “five” which was probably grammatically correct according to some rulebook she’d never heard of. Emma was like that, precise and orderly and just a little bit old-fashioned. She didn’t do one-night stands, she wanted a date, she was above fucking in an alley. Lauren grinned. She might’ve relented on the first two, but Emma’d fucked her in that alley just fine. So fine in fact, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Before her palms had time to get sweaty and her skin began to tingle, she jumped out of the car. She barely had the willpower not to sprint toward the library as if she were mainlining liquid caffeine. She’d been surprised, and okay, why not admit it, elated when Emma had texted her. The way they’d left things had been stilted. Not awkward enough to be embarrassing, but not exactly brimming with closeness either. The sex had been just as phenomenal as she’d anticipated. Emma had done just what she’d asked. Emma’d been brave and faced her anxiety. Emma had taken her. She’d embraced the experience wholeheartedly, even talking dirty, her words like strokes against Lauren’s clit, turning her on and making her desperate to come. Even though her orgasm had been amazing, she’d enjoyed watching Emma come alive even more. Emma had fucked her with a confidence that made her want to grin from ear to ear. Yet the very thing that made her so happy was exactly the problem. She cared about Emma more than she cared about sex. She had right from the first moment with her arm around Emma’s waist and the certainty that she wouldn’t need a bet to seduce this woman ringing in her ears.

  But under the warm fuzzies, under and around and between the cracks, were all the things they hadn’t done. Emma still hadn’t looked at her during sex. Emma hadn’t come. Emma wasn’t any closer to surrendering. And deeper still were all the things they hadn’t said. I want to take you out on a real date. I want to stay and figure this out. I want you and I choose you and I need you. Lauren had only been back in town a week. It didn’t rate as the worst week of her life, not by a long shot. But it’d kind of sucked, until Emma had made all the difference.

  Lauren tried the door to the library and found it unlocked despite the closed sign hanging in the window. She pushed it open and stepped inside. “Emma?”

  “Back here. Lock the door, will you?”

  She turned the notch on the doorknob, then secured the deadbolt and followed the sound of Emma’s voice. She entered the main section of the library and stopped dead. All thoughts of what stood between them and where this was headed were eclipsed by the sight of Emma sitting very tall and straight on the circulation desk, one knee crossed over the other and her hands clasped on her knee like a devotee at church.

  “Well, hello there.” It was a stupid line, sounding about as lecherous as she felt, but all her brain cells where currently occupied with the task of picking her jaw up off the floor so she didn’t trip over it when she inevitably lost all her willpower and ran at Emma. Here was the thing: Emma was naked. Not artfully arranged trench coat concealing her glorious skin naked. Not sexy lingerie hinting at those mouth-watering curves naked. Naked naked. Totally bare. Totally fucking sexy. Just her silky hair, her drive-me-crazy blush, and so much naked that Lauren’s heart hammered.

  Emma’s smile looked as if it took some work to achieve. “Hi.”

  She took a careful step, and then another and another, until she was standing in front of Emma. She touched her cheek with fingers that tingled from all the adrenaline coursing through her. “This is a nice surprise.”

  “I decided to be brave.” Emma sounded anything but.

  “This is jumping in the deep end of the brave pool.” She wasn’t sure she’d be brave enough to strip naked and wait for a lover in the place she worked every day. In the place she’d fantasized about coming with my hand over her mouth. Emma had chosen this time, this place, for a reason. Did she want to act out her fantasy? Lauren took a breath, held it, and let it out slowly. Emma had a tale
nt for snatching the air from her lungs. “I thought you didn’t like to push boundaries.”

  Emma tugged her closer and played with the top button of her shirt, sliding it free and dipping her fingers inside. “I had this really hot woman show me that pushing boundaries can be fun if you let it be.”

  “Did you have fun?” The question was so simple and the answer anything but. Fun was such an inadequate word for all the pheromones zigzagging between them, pinging off each other and making her dizzy.

  Emma nodded, then shook her head, summing up Lauren’s feelings exactly.

  She waited but Emma didn’t say more. She was starting to understand Emma Prescott. Bravery came in different forms, and Emma wasn’t nearly as shy as she appeared. In fact, she was excellent at making moves. At getting Lauren to ask her out, at getting her in bed, at making her want so damn much she gave more of herself than she’d thought she’d had in her to give in the first place. Emma made her want, and then Emma wanted her to push. To pick up where she left off and drive her to that next boundary, that next peak, that next discovery. Emma had come this far, but how far they went from here was up to Lauren.

  She made an obvious display of sizing Emma up, letting her gaze linger on all the bare skin on display. She allowed her eyes to drop from Emma’s face, to her breasts, to her waist, and then to the place between her legs that Emma managed to conceal with crossed knees. She didn’t bother to hide her perusal. She wanted Emma to see. She wanted Emma to know how sexy she found her. Her fantasies about Emma over the past few days were hot enough to make a hooker blush, but Emma sitting naked on the circulation desk, the reality of it, had the blood pumping through her so hard she was sure Emma could see her pulse beating.

  Emma had made the move.

  Now it was time to see how far she’d trust.

  Emma might think that vulnerability, that intimacy, was about sex, as if the brush of two bodies together was what made total exposure so uniquely terrifying, but she had it all wrong. Intimacy was about absolute trust, about showing up and revealing all the things that made up who you really were when no one was watching, most of them not entirely honorable.