The firefighter nodded, made a note on a notepad.
They were cleared to remove all the furniture except the chest. Jeremy made a trip to the dump and unloaded all the furniture that was a total loss. He came back for a second load, the pieces he hoped to restore. He had nowhere to take them, so he took a gamble and returned to his house with them. If a vandal and an arsonist wanted to hit him on the same day, he had little control over it.
Later, he and Emma sat in his living room, ruminating over the events of the day. “I can’t afford to rent the warehouse, especially after losing six more pieces.”
Emma shrugged. “But you can’t afford not to rent the warehouse. You have nowhere safe to store your stuff without it.”
Jeremy let that one settle in. She was right. He couldn’t afford to do it, but worse, he couldn’t afford not to. This would require a leap of faith.
“Will you pray with me?”
She nodded and he turned to face her on the couch, gripping her hands. “Our dear Father. Tough day today, but nowhere near as tough as You faced on Your crucifixion day. You tasted all the pain and suffering of human life and rose above it all. You set the example for weak men like me. Help me keep my eyes on You, follow Your will and do the right thing. Guide me through this difficult time and let me know the right thing to do. Amen.”
They spent a few moments in silence, gazes connected. Then he reached for the phone.
“Cam? I’ll go ahead and take the smaller spot. Yeah, the one in the strip mall with the big display window. Okay, thanks.”
Emma jumped on him, her weight sinking him deeper into the couch cushions. “Nice job.” She leaned in close, brushed her lips against his and he forgot all his troubles.
For a moment.
* * *
Emma drove in the direction of her parents’. Her mother had invited her and Jeremy over for dinner and normally she would’ve loved to have him there. But this time, she didn’t bring him. Although he was putting on a brave front, trying to be thankful that no one had been injured in the fire, and the Inn hadn’t been damaged, she knew he was distressed. He’d written off six exquisite creations as a total loss, and six more, he was now spending his time trying to renovate what he could to earn a little bit of money from them. Time was money. Time he’d originally spent on the items, bringing them to their previous state of grandeur. And now time again to try to restore them. And knowing Jeremy, if the pieces weren’t up to his impeccable standards even after spending the time on renovations, he wouldn’t sell them, not even at a discount.
So of course, money was an issue, a big one.
But the investigation was bugging him too. If someone had set the fire, targeting his furniture, what message were they trying to send? And did they have no regard for the safety and well-being of everyone in the Inn? Who could hate him that much? And why?
Dinner was lovely at her parents’ house. The house was clean and tidy and her parents were calm and easy with each other. Her dad was attentive and cooperative when her mother spoke or asked something of him. In fact, she couldn’t remember a more pleasant evening with her parents. Ever. They laughed, they joked, they were happy.
And her father was sober.
Maybe he was right in resisting her attempts to send him to Alcoholics Anonymous. If he was able, this easily, to control his drinking, then he most likely was not an alcoholic. Life seemed to be so good for them.
Might as well go for broke, she thought. This next question had the potential of turning this whole perfect evening into disaster.
“So how’s the job hunting going, Dad?”
He paused, took her question in for a moment, and looked down at the table. “Well, baby girl, I’ve been looking, I really have. But there’s not much out there. And my skills aren’t current. They wonder why I haven’t been working for so long, and that right there is enough to knock me out of the running. There’s so many people looking for work, it’s easy to eliminate someone. Not to mention my age. Why would a boss hire an old guy like me when he’s got someone in their twenties or thirties also applying?”
Her mother put a hand over his on the table and patted it. “Dad’s thinking about going to the community college and taking some classes. Maybe getting a certification, a new trade. There are several options that he’s considering.”
She smiled. “Awesome, Dad. That sounds good. I’m proud of you. Learning something new is good.”
They moved on to other topics and Emma embarked on an internal argument. She had another question for her father but was it really her business? Was she pushing her luck? Did she want to risk his anger? Finally, when momentary silence hit the room, she ventured, “So Dad, how’s it going with the drinking?”
He blinked slowly at her. “How does it look like it’s going?”
“You’re sober tonight.”
“Yes, I am.” He winked at her mother, who gave him an adoring glance like he was the most perfect man in the world.
“How about other days? Are you cutting down? I believe you wanted to limit your drinking to two beers a day.”
He nodded, lips pursed. She knew that look. He was starting to lose patience with her because she continued to push when he was trying to dismiss. “I’m doing fine, darlin’. I thank you for caring, but really this is between your mom and I, ain’t it? And she’s very happy, can’t you tell?”
She looked over at her mom. Sweet, loving, conflict-hating Mom. She did look happy. In fact, she looked thrilled. Emma smiled at her, and her mom responded with a full-out grin. “I’m glad. I’m so happy things are going so well. I love you both.”
Fifteen minutes later, they all kissed and hugged, said their good-byes and Emma drove away, hopeful that things were beginning to look good, for the first time in a decade.
Chapter Thirteen
Emma took extra care in the mirror with her hair. Curl, twist with her fingers, spray. Now, her eyelashes. Coat them just enough, not too much. Her summer beach tan had long since faded, making foundation and powder necessary on her face. She didn’t do it much, one of the advantages of only being in her late twenties, her complexion was in good shape. Past the acne, hadn’t encountered wrinkles yet. But a light coating helped her feel more attractive.
And tonight, she wanted to feel attractive.
She drove over to Jeremy’s house, her pulse pounding more than usual. Calm, she thought. No reason to be nervous. He’s going to want this as much as I do. He’s a guy, for God’s sake.
She parked in Jeremy’s driveway and walked up to his door, holding a bottle of chilled pinot grigio. He probably wasn’t a wine drinker as a first choice, but she needed it tonight to bolster her courage. It was time for her to let him know exactly how she felt about him. And hope that he felt the same way.
She knocked out of habit, then went ahead and opened the door. A waft of deep fried awesomeness met her nostrils just a few steps in. “Hello?” she said.
“I’m in the kitchen,” his voice came.
She walked through the tiny house, turning into the kitchen in the back. He stood at the stove, a fork in hand. Sizzling drips of oil jumped from the cast iron skillet. Strips of fish lined the counter, lying on dishtowels. She leaned in and gave him a quick smooch on the cheek, then backed away.
“I went fishing this morning, caught six groupers. I figured, what would be better than frying them up for us tonight?”
She smiled. “You fish?”
He laughed. “Not often, but sure, I grew up on the beach. I can fish and crab with the best of ‘em.”
Shredded cabbage and carrots sat in a bowl. “You making cole slaw?”
“Yeah. I had to abandon it when the oil was ready.”
She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the slaw dressing. “I’ll take care of it.” She set to work. “Good dinner.” Good thing she was hungry.
“And I made some hushpuppies too. They’re in that basket over there.”
When all was prepared, she poured the
m each a glass of wine and slid his glass to his spot at the table. He glanced at it and gave her a look. “Wine? Are we celebrating a special occasion?”
Hope so. “Sure. Your lease signing. You’re moving into your warehouse in a few days. That’s a huge milestone for your new business.”
His gaze rested on hers, his movements from dinner quieted. “You’ve supported me from the very beginning. It’s nice to know you believe in me. Even when there are pit stops.”
“There will always be pit stops, Jeremy. Just because the journey isn’t perfect, doesn’t mean it’s not worth traveling.”
They dug into the fresh fried fish and the flavor exploded on her tongue. The slaw and hushpuppies were just right as well. When the meal was done, Emma gathered the plates, and despite Jeremy’s protests, she took them to his kitchen and loaded them into the dishwasher. He joined her.
“I saw my dad recently. He was sober as a stone.”
Jeremy looked at her. “That’s great. Has he stopped drinking, do you think?”
She shrugged. “At least for that day, or that evening that I was over, he didn’t drink. I guess that’s a start. Not nearly enough, I’m afraid, for the long term.” She sniffed. “My mom’s ecstatic, but of course, that poor woman is just happy there’s been an improvement. She’s not going to push it. She likes what she sees, so she’s happy. Period.”
“But you’re suspicious.”
She nodded. “Too easy. I just think there’s more to it than that. A man drinks almost a case of beer every day for ten years, his daughter finally says something to him about it and he suddenly stops drinking?”
“Yeah. But like you said, it’s a start. And it wouldn’t have happened without you being brave enough to bring it up. Because I know that wasn’t easy.”
She paused, trying to formulate words that she couldn’t quite get straight in her mind. “He seems to have turned a corner, Jeremy. Controlling his drinking, looking for a job, even talking about taking some classes to qualify him for more work. He’s pulling his life together.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” He blessed her with a smile that made her heart race.
“He’s not there yet, but I see steps to improvement.” She finished her kitchen chore, and his proximity gave her the jitters. She wanted to take a step forward in their relationship tonight, but first, she needed to validate her true feelings for him. And in light of what she had on her mind, she was done talking about her father.
She turned and gripped his cotton shirt, and went motionless, simply looking into his eyes. He seemed to sense the importance of the moment because he stared back at her, his eyes darkening and his expression going soft. Concentrating on the face of this man in the quiet, she knew it. She was falling in love with Jeremy. She hadn’t professed it to him, or even admitted it to herself prior to this moment. But it was true.
She released her hold on him, but as she lowered her hands, he noticed and grabbed them. “Your hands are shaking. Are you okay?”
She grinned and nodded. “Yes, in fact,” she said and pulled him back to the table. She lifted her glass. “Time for a toast. Here’s to a night to celebrate finding each other and building a future.”
He blinked as she took a generous swallow, then he followed suit. She gripped her near empty wine glass and strode intentionally to the couch. She looked over her shoulder and caught his eye before she sat, leaning slowly against the back. A second’s hesitation, then he joined her. He sat, and she scooted, closing up the short distance between them. She let her head drop back, swallowing the remainder of the wine, then rested the empty glass on the table.
“Is there something on television you’d like to see?” he asked, picking up the remote and fumbling with it.
“No.” She pressed her thigh against his, and with her palm, caressed his denim-coated leg. He shuddered and let the remote fall.
She turned into him and kissed him, first on the skin visible between the top two undone buttons of his work shirt, then up, covering his Adam’s Apple with her lips. It jumped as he swallowed and his breathing came heavier, gasping softly. She brought both hands to his face, cupping his cheeks while her mouth journeyed, resting now on his jawbone under his right ear. She sucked on his earlobe until she heard a moan in the back of his throat. As she moved her lips onto his cheek, his hands got into the dance. They roved over her back, up and down, pressure, pulling her closer to him, till finally she shifted and straddled him, facing him on his lap.
Her hands left his face and settled on his arms, massaging his biceps and glorying in the firm masculine form hidden beneath his clothes. Her lips moved to his, and his enthusiasm thrilled her as he pulled her closer, her hands exploring his lines and angles.
He moaned, a tormented sound that validated her desires. She had to touch his skin. She wanted to touch every inch of him, and she wanted it now.
They’d moved so slow, this relationship, and she liked the pace. Jeremy wasn’t your typical guy, after only one thing. They’d gotten to know each other, but tonight, she was taking charge. Barely a minute went by that she didn’t think of him, yearn for him. She was falling for him, deep. She could be in love with this man.
It was time.
Joined by their mouths, she tugged at his buttons, unfastening each one till his shirt hung loose around his chest. She pushed it off his shoulders, and tossed it to the floor.
“Jeremy,” she breathed, and her hands took over, running her palms over him, every inch of exposed skin, exploring him, his firm abs, his chest, then around to his back. Her heart raced and her breath was coming in gasps.
He pulled back from her. Uncertainty shone in his eyes, and his hesitation told her she would have to set the pace. He respected her; he wouldn’t put her in a position she might be uncomfortable with, even if he wanted it. Even if it took superhuman strength to resist in the heat of passion.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, nodding her encouragement. She wanted them to be in sync. Yes, she wanted him, she craved intimacy with him. But he needed to want it just as much as she did.
And still he waited. Physically, he was still sitting on the couch, her facing him, perched on his lap. But emotionally, a distance was forming.
“Emma,” he murmured.
“Jeremy,” she said in a low moan and returned to kissing him. She ran her hands up his chest, over his arms, reveling in the feel of an unencumbered caress.
Propped in his lap, a breeze of cold air caught her skin and made her shiver. She took his hand and slowly, intentionally, placed it on her belly, covered by the fabric of her dress. An invitation, a clear message of what she wanted from him.
His eyes widened as he stared into hers, his torment playing across his face. She released his hand and he kept it in place. His fingers splayed across her abdomen, his hand so large that outstretched, his fingers brushed the underside of her breasts. She gasped and his eyes came to hers immediately.
“Yes, please,” she whispered.
“Emma, I don’t …,” his low voice broke off.
“What?” she urged. “You don’t want me?” As much as it pained her to say it, she had to know. As much as her feelings for him were growing and her dreams of a future with him were taking shape in her mind, she needed to know if he wasn’t attracted to her. Painful, but vital.
“No!” he said, voice raised. “No, baby, that’s not it at all. Emma, you’re so beautiful.” Leave it to him to compliment her. He constantly did. It was one of the things she loved most about him, always recognizing things about her to comment on.
Fortified, she whispered close to his ear, “I want you, Jeremy.”
He shuddered. “Baby, I can’t tell you the last time I was with a woman. I don’t want to hurt you, or … us.”
Love for him flooded her heart. “I know you’ve been away for a long time. But you and I, I don’t know, it just seems right, doesn’t it?”
He took a long moment to study her eyes. She wished she
could read exactly what was going through his mind as he stared. She wished she could let him know just how ready she was to take the next step in their relationship. Did he understand what she was offering? Because he obviously wasn't taking her up on the invitation.
He went motionless. His hands and his mouth stilled, his shoulders quieted. And in the silence of the moment, a cooler head prevailed. And it was his.
“I think we’re starting to stray off-track here, baby.” He wrapped his arms around her back and in one strong swoop, he lifted her off his lap and placed her on the couch beside him. Then, he stood and walked to the other side of the room, his back to her. His deep breaths were visible to her from behind. He was the picture of a man struggling to gain control.
He turned then, and despite herself, she nearly gasped at the beauty of him. His chest glistened with health and fitness, not an ounce of fat evident on his slim frame. His dark hair, unruly now from her hands running through it, just a tad too long. He’d missed a haircut, probably too busy with the craziness that his life had become lately.
And his eyes. She was drawn to them. Crisp blue like an ocean sky. Almost too blue for the light complexion and coal black hair, an unexpected but irresistible combination of colors that formed the face of her true love.
He came to her, kneeling in front of her on the floor. He captured both her hands in his and stared into her eyes. “Emma, you are gorgeous, inside and out. I’m so lucky to be with you.” He dropped one of her hands to trace his fingers against her cheek.
Tears stabbed at her eyes. She’d put herself out there, and he'd rejected her. She'd never been rejected in a sexual scenario and had no idea what was going on. “Jeremy, I’m so confused. You say you’re attracted to me.”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“Are you going to make me say it? Are you that bad at reading clues?” That clueless, she meant, but even in this devastating situation, she didn't want her harsh words to hurt him.
I want to love you -- I want you to love me -- I want us to make love.
Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3 Page 43