by Cathie Linz
Wow, in a few months she was going to be an aunt. She still had a hard time digesting that fact.
“Hi.”
“I have a cat named Gravity.”
“I, uh, that’s nice.” Emma’s experience with little kids was somewhat limited. Which is why she fell back on that old standard question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Korean.”
Emma blinked. She wasn’t expecting that response. But then she hadn’t expected most of what had happened to her since she’d returned home.
“Toni’s best friend in kindergarten is Korean,” Skye explained.
“Who are you?” Toni asked Emma.
“I’m Emma.”
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Smarter than I am now,” Emma said. “About a lot of things.” Especially men who drove her crazy with just one kiss.
“Why are we meeting at the Dairy Queen to discuss your wedding plans?” Emma asked Sue Ellen later that afternoon.
“It’s a favorite hangout of mine. And I didn’t want Mom interrupting us every two minutes.
I know she’s not trying to drive me crazy, but she is.”
“You could have come to my place.”
“What do you have against the Dairy Queen?”
“Nothing. I was just saying . . .” The wrong thing, she silently continued. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately where her sisters were concerned. And it left her feeling like an awkward dork.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“You know the bridal shower is tomorrow afternoon, right?”
“Right. Saturday afternoon. For you and Leena both.”
“We might have to change that.”
“What?! Why?”
“Because we have totally different views on what the shower should look like.”
“I thought you guys had this all settled.”
“So did I. We’re having it catered in the lobby of the Tivoli Theater.”
“And there’s a problem with that? I just came from speaking with Skye, and she didn’t mention any trouble for the event tomorrow.”
“The location isn’t the issue. It’s the decorations.”
“What decorations?”
“Leena is using her engagement photos to put on the walls by her gift table.”
“And?”
“She’s a former model. It’s hard to get a bad photo of her. Hard but not impossible. There was one shot a year ago for the Regency Mobile Home Sales that she hated, but that’s another story. I don’t have engagement photos to put over my table. I didn’t like the way they turned out.”
“Then put something else there. Flowers or bows or something.”
“It won’t look as good as Leena’s table.” Sue Ellen sniffed back tears.
“Look at me.” Emma grabbed her sister’s hands and made her focus instead of melting down in the middle of the Dairy Queen. “You’re the one who has the interior decorating certificate on her wall. Remember, the one you got from the Internet?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So you know how to decorate. You can put your own stamp on things.”
“My own stamp . . .” Sue Ellen thought a moment. “I know! My naked firemen calendars. I could put those up. They are very tastefully done. Nothing flapping in the wind, you know?
Yes, I’ll do that! Thanks, sis. You’re brilliant.” Sue Ellen tugged Emma to her feet and gave her a hug that nearly cut off her air supply. “Gotta run!”
Emma sank back onto her chair. She was so not looking forward to the shower this weekend, or Sue Ellen’s wedding the following weekend. What kind of sister did that make her? Guilt nibbled at her. She should be so excited for her sisters. Instead she just wanted the madness over with. She had this tendency to want to make everything calm and controlled, and those two adjectives just didn’t apply to Sue Ellen or Leena. Well, Leena was ultra-organized so that was a good thing. But not the same as controlled.
Emma also had this need to smooth things out whenever there was trouble. Both her sisters lived by their emotions. Emma preferred logic. She relied on logic. Required it.
“Dr Pepper again?” Jake slid into the seat Sue Ellen had recently vacated. “Are we looking at an addiction problem here?”
No, she was looking at another kind of yummy addiction. Jake. His effect on her was entirely too intense. Especially given the fact that she hadn’t known him that long. As in two days. That wasn’t logical at all.
Her fingers tightened on her drink.
Jake noticed. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to take your Dr Pepper away from you.”
No, he was just taking her peace of mind away from her. Was he doing it deliberately? Was he trying to mess with her? Why would he bother?
No, Jake wasn’t trying to gaslight her. This was an example of her hormones at work. A classic case of the science of attraction. In fact, she’d recently read a study in Evolutionary Psychology regarding the ways heterosexual men and women view first kisses. More than half of both men and women surveyed said they had been attracted to someone only to discover that, after kissing for the first time, they were no longer interested. Which seemed to suggest that there were unconscious mechanisms that had evolved to identify genetic incompatibility.
The study went on to point out that women were less likely to agree to have sex with a bad kisser than men, who were willing to have sex with just about anyone of the opposite sex.
Men were opportunistic breeders—ready, willing, and eager to spread their DNA.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” Jake said.
“What way?”
“Like I’m a bug under a microscope.”
She shrugged and looked down, nervously bouncing the straw up and down in her soda.
“Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Sociologists see people as bugs?”
“No, although there are certain group dynamics in the insect world from which one could draw parallels.” Shut up, Em. You sound like such a nerd.
He raised one dark eyebrow. “One could, huh?”
“Never mind,” she muttered.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“No.” Which was a lie, of course. Funny how she never used to lie until she met him. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a lot of work to do at home.”
“I’ll walk you there.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
He held the door open for her and even held her backpack, making her feel like she was back in high school. Not that any guy had done either of those things for her in those days.
She was always the brainy, geeky girl. She still was.
If she was so smart, she shouldn’t be wondering if Jake thought she was a good kisser. The fact that he seemed ready to have sex with her on her fire escape didn’t mean much according to Evolutionary Psychology.
When they reached her apartment, she mumbled, “Thanks. Bye.” She grabbed her backpack and raced up the stairs as if the devil himself were chasing her. The indoor stairway ended in a shadowy hall on top. When a figure stepped out of the shadows Emma didn’t think, she screamed.
Chapter Five
“Holy crap!” Emma’s father bellowed from the shadows. “You scared the hell out of me!”
Emma stood there shaking. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay. She silently recited the words as a mantra of reassurance to herself. The man was her father, not a mugger.
The sound of footsteps racing up the steps behind her had Emma turning, ready to face the next threat. When her father came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, she jumped a foot.
“Get your hands off her,” Jake growled.
“Who the hell are you to be telling me what to do with my daughter?” her dad growled right back.
“Your daughter?” Jake repeated.
“That’s right. I’m Emma’s father. And you are?”
“Jak
e Slayter. I heard her scream and I thought she was in trouble.”
“She is in trouble for nearly causing her father to have a heart attack. Since when are you so jumpy, Sweet Pea?”
Her dad’s gentle squeeze of her shoulders and use of her childhood nickname had Emma blinking away sudden tears. She was bombarded with the swirl of conflicting memories.
The reassurance of her dad telling her a bedtime story about an Irish fairy named Sweet Pea.
And the terror of hiding in the corner with Leena when her dad got drunk.
That terror was compounded by a more recent memory: not long ago, she’d been attacked in Boston. Maybe the residual fear from being mugged had drudged up that solitary image of fear from her childhood. She didn’t remember much about her dad’s drinking. She’d been only six or seven at the most. A huge majority of her childhood memories were good ones.
She wasn’t afraid of her father. She was just afraid in general, and she hated feeling so vulnerable.
First she’d leveled Roy in the bar, and now she was screaming like a ninny. She felt like a total idiot.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked her. His voice was unusually gentle.
She nodded, still too unnerved and embarrassed to speak. “Sorry,” she croaked. She had to clear her throat before continuing. “I . . . um . . . I wasn’t expecting to see anyone and my dad just startled me, that’s all. I didn’t realize he was in town yet.”
“Arrived this morning. That was some scream,” her dad said. “You’ve got a good set of pipes on you, Sweet Pea.” He then turned his attention to Jake. “So are you a friend of my daughter’s?”
“I’m her date for the upcoming weddings.”
“Really? Her date, huh? Sounds serious. How long have you two been seeing each other?”
Since when had her normally nonverbal dad turned into Mr. Chatty? He hadn’t questioned her high school date to the prom this much.
Wait, she hadn’t gone to prom.
“We haven’t been seeing each other for that long,” Jake replied, “but your daughter made a big impression on me the first time we met.”
“She did, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Call me Bob.” Her dad held out his hand, which Jake shook without wincing.
Emma knew her dad had the fierce handshake of a former Marine. He’d taught her as a kid to have a firm handshake and not a wimpy girly one that was like a dead fish. And when she’d get it right, he’d beam with pride. As he had when she’d graduated from college.
He’d been so proud.
Those were fond memories, not scary ones.
A majority of her memories were good, which was why that momentary flash of cowering in the corner was so disconcerting to her. She thought she’d come to terms with her past. It was her present that was giving her fits.
“Nice to meet you, Bob,” Jake said.
“Same here.”
“Well, if everything’s okay here, I guess I’ll leave you two alone then,” Jake said.
“Why not come in for a spell?” her dad said.
Emma looked over her shoulder at her dad as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. He never invited people in. He was not a people person. What was going on here?
“Invite the man in, Sweet Pea,” her dad instructed.
“I, uh . . . would you like to come inside?” Hardly the most heartfelt of invitations, but hey, she was still wobbly on her emotional pins.
“Come on, Jake, we won’t take no for an answer,” her dad answered.
And so it was that Emma unlocked her door and ushered the two men inside while mentally hoping she hadn’t left anything in plain view that she shouldn’t have. The small size of the studio apartment required her to be tidy. A quick scan of the room reassured her that the only messy place was the dining table she was using as a desk, where papers and books were spread out.
“And I thought the mobile home was small.” Her dad shook his head. “I’ve seen RVs bigger than this.”
“It’s not that bad. I like it. Can I get either of you something to drink? I’ve only got Dr Pepper.
The fridge doesn’t hold much and I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Nothing for me,” her dad said.
“I’m fine,” Jake concurred.
Her dad gingerly sat on the futon, as if expecting it to collapse beneath his weight. “Your mom sent me over here to find out why you wouldn’t stay with us at home.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “I already told her I’ve rented this place for the summer while I do my work here. The research grant I got will cover the rent.”
“Yeah, well, you know how your mom is.” He looked around the room. “It doesn’t seem like the flea-bitten hovel she made it out to be.”
“She hasn’t even seen it,” Emma protested.
“You know how mothers are. Right, Jake?”
He just shrugged. Something about his expression caught Emma’s attention and made her wonder at the momentary flash of emotion there. It was there and gone so quickly she couldn’t even completely identify what it was—pain or anger?
“So are you from around here, Jake?” her dad asked.
“No, but I’m enjoying my time in Rock Creek.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a bartender at Nick’s Tavern.”
Her dad was not impressed. Emma was tempted to tell him that Jake was an extreme sports athlete, but it wasn’t her place to reveal that information. And Jake chose not to, which didn’t surprise her. She was surprised by the way he managed to change the subject, getting her dad to talk about himself.
“Uh-oh.” Her dad glanced at his watch half an hour later. “I’ve got to go pick up your mom.” He gave Emma a quick hug before hurrying out.
Emma closed the door after him and returned to the futon to face Jake, who stayed behind.
“I’m sorry for overreacting the way I did, screaming like that.”
“Something happened to you, didn’t it?” he said quietly.
“With my dad?” Emma shook her head vehemently. “No, no, nothing like that.”
“You’re spooked.”
“Not because of my dad.” There was a moment of silence before she admitted, “Look, something happened back in Boston a few months ago. I was mugged. I was walking home after dinner out one night when this guy with a knife came out of nowhere. I wasn’t raped or anything.” Although she might have been had a neighbor not shown up and scared the assailant away. “He shoved me to the ground and took off with my purse. I signed up for self-defense classes the next day.”
“Which you clearly excelled at, judging by the way you handled Roy in the bar.”
“I’m not proud of that moment. I shouldn’t have resorted to violence. It was just a knee-jerk response.”
“Like you screaming when you saw your dad.”
“I didn’t know who it was when I screamed. I just saw a figure coming at me out of the corner of my eye and again I had a knee-jerk reaction. Please don’t say anything about this to my family. I
haven’t told them about the mugging.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want them worrying about me off in the big city of Boston on my own. I’ve always been the reliable daughter. The one that doesn’t get in trouble.”
He studied her for a moment. She wondered what he saw. Was he trying to read her mind or her soul? Could he tell how conflicted she was inside? How deeply she wanted him?
Finally he spoke. “I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“How much do you appreciate it?” His deep voice turned husky as he gently tugged her down onto the futon beside him. Cupping her cheek, he softly asked, “Are you afraid of me? Do I spook you?”
How should she answer that? On one level he did spook her. Not that she was afraid he’d physically injure her or attack her. She was nervous about the powerful attraction he held for her.
Yet he also had the strange abilit
y to make her feel gloriously alive.
Jake brushed his index finger over her bottom lip. “You’re safe with me.”
“Am I?”
“You don’t feel safe?” He lingered a mere inch from her mouth, waiting for her reaction.
Emma wished he’d just kiss her and get it over with instead of tempting her this way, building the anticipation to unbearable heights until she leaned forward and placed her lips against his.
Making the first move wasn’t like her, but she didn’t care. They were kissing and that’s all that mattered at the moment. She was consumed by the reality of his mouth on hers, of his tongue caressing hers as he took her face between his hands and kissed her fiercely.
There was nothing safe about their kiss. Its intoxicating potency sent a tremor of excitement through her. His lips were warm and bold as he tested and tasted each corner of her mouth and the full softness in between.
That first kiss on her fire escape hadn’t been a fluke. Jake wasn’t just an exceptional first kisser.
He was a damn fine kisser, period. She’d never been convinced of the pleasures to be had from French kisses, but his expert tutelage made her a total convert.
The ever-fluid interplay of his tongue against hers was wickedly blissful. He devoured her with a forceful need. His mouth slanted ravenously atop hers, consuming all that was within her parted lips.
Bam, bam. It took Emma several moments to realize the sound wasn’t her heart pounding in her ears. The pounding was coming from her front door.
“Come on, Emma, I know you’re in there,” Leena yelled. “Open up!”
“Ignore her and she’ll go away,” Jake said, nibbling on her throat.
Emma wished that were true, but knew it wasn’t. She reluctantly moved away. The spell was broken. For now . . . “You don’t know my sister. She’s very persistent.”
“Emma!” Leena yelled again.
Not in the best of moods, Emma marched over and yanked open the door. “What?”
“How could you?”
Emma bit her bottom lip, the one that Jake had just been kissing. How did her sister know she’d been making out with Jake? Had their dad suspected something and sent Leena to check up on her?
“How could I what?” Emma asked carefully.
“ aked firemen ring any bells?”