by Sami Lee
“Gosh. That all sounds so exciting.”
“It can be. It can also be tedious. A lot of waiting around for that perfect shot.”
Emily nodded, easily able to imagine Jet huddled in the bushes, patiently waiting for a bear cub to emerge from its den and then springing into action the second it did. He had an aura of contained energy about him that gave the sense he could handle whatever life threw his way.
“So how do you know Brand?” Emily couldn’t fathom how Brand had met a globe-trotting wildlife photographer.
“I’ve known him since we were both fifteen. My parents have an orchard down near Picton, a ways west of Sydney. They also keep some animals. Brand…he stayed with them a while.”
“He said he was from down that way.” But he hadn’t told her much else. Brand had been very close-lipped when it came to talking about his past. Emily had no idea where his family was, or if he even had family. Now, here was Jet, someone who’d known him in the times that Brand wouldn’t talk about. The temptation to ask questions was irresistible. “You say he stayed with your parents? Why?”
Jet looked at her steadily. Emily sensed him assessing her, working out how little she knew about the man she lived with. Her cheeks heated with discomfiture.
“You should ask Brand sometime,” Jet eventually said. “Right now, I’d rather talk about how you met him.”
Conversation was a welcome reprieve from the awkward silence that had settled over them. “He came knocking on my door one day, asking to see the horses. Not to ride them, just to see them.”
“Did you think that was odd?”
“A bit, I suppose. But he looked so…” Emily searched for a word that wouldn’t make Brand sound unbalanced. Desperate? Needy? Vulnerable? She discarded them all and simply said, “Lost. I thought the horses might help him find his way, so I said he could visit with Daisy for a while. She’s my favorite stock horse. The next day he came back, and I said if he wanted to ride Daisy, he had to clean my gutters.”
Jet grinned. “I see you’re no pushover.”
“Nope. I had quite a few jobs I had trouble getting to myself, and by the end of the day, he’d done more than his fair share. I offered to pay him in money, not just horse visiting time. He refused the money.”
Emily recalled walking into the stables at the end of the day and finding Brand with his head buried in Daisy’s neck, his hands gently stroking her flesh. When Daisy had whinnied softly and given her head a shake, Brand had smiled, and something inside Emily’s chest had tugged so hard she could barely breathe.
“So what did you do?” Jet asked, bringing Emily back to the present.
“I insisted he stay for dinner.” Emily smiled ruefully. “He never left.”
“Ah. He stayed for the horses, I’m sure.”
Emily raised a brow. “Obviously.”
Jet laughed. “Brand always loved horses. Mum had an old gray mare named Mule, of all things. She was as moody as she was stubborn. That horse and Brand had a special relationship though. Brand was the only one who could ride Mule.”
“You couldn’t ride her?”
“Me?” Jet scoffed. “I don’t do horses.”
Emily stared at him in surprise. “You skulk around in the night with bears and lions and alligators, but you’re afraid of horses?”
“I didn’t say I was afraid.” He showed her an affronted expression. “But the four-hoofed beasts and I tend to stay out of each other’s way.”
Emily couldn’t help but laugh. “You should meet my sister. The two of you would get along great.”
Jet eyed her over the rim of his coffee mug, and something about the steadiness of his gaze made Emily’s skin tingle. “Does she look anything like you?”
The subtle flirtatiousness of the question made Emily’s face heat again. It had done far too much of that since Jet arrived. “She keeps her hair short and her body very decoratively tattooed. But it looks good on Hope. She’s tanned and toned. Much thinner than I am.”
“She doesn’t sound like my type. I prefer curves on a woman.”
He didn’t look at her as he said it, didn’t give her own curves a meaningful once-over. Yet Emily’s body simmered as though he’d caressed her rounded hips with those long-fingered, artistic hands of his. Enough, Emily, she chastised herself, picking up her now-empty mug and taking it to the kitchen. She and Brand might not have actually discussed being exclusive, but she figured it was assumed. Brand wouldn’t flirt with some strange woman while Emily was away.
Not that she was flirting. Ogling, maybe, but not flirting. Jet was the one making the vaguely complimentary remarks.
Or had she imagined the undercurrent entirely? Probably. Stop making a big deal out of nothing.
Jet stood too and brought his own mug to the sink, where he very thoughtfully rinsed it out. Emily stepped back, careful not to bump into him. Emily sensed he was about to leave, and while she knew she ought to simply let him, she found herself asking, “Feel like desensitizing yourself? I have to go check on the horses, get them ready to bed down for the night. You’re welcome to tag along.”
If Jet was as surprised as she by her impulsive invitation, it didn’t show. He sent her a knowing look. “You’re after a helper, right?”
Emily smiled. “It does go quicker if there’s two people doing it.”
“Quicker is not always better, Emily,” Jet drawled, sending her a wink.
She was definitely not imagining the sexual undertones of that comment. But he said it with such humor that she couldn’t take it as a serious come-on. It was simply Jet’s manner, she realized. He was an innately sensual person, and he couldn’t help but have an effect on women.
It didn’t stop her body from responding with a rush of carnal heat. Just as Jet couldn’t help flirting, she couldn’t help reacting. It was nothing personal. Nothing to feel guilty about. There was no harm in him staying a little longer. Besides, he might let some more tidbits of information about Brand slip, and Emily was keen to get a clear picture in her mind of how Jet’s and Brand’s lives fit together.
She rested a hand on her hip in a challenging pose. “Are you going to help me or not, smart aleck?”
His hesitation was noticeable, but brief. He wiped his wet hands on a tea towel and said, “Lead the way, pretty lady.”
An hour later, they were stuck. While they’d been in the stables, the rain had started to come down with a vengeance, soaking the ground. The notion of taking a leisurely walk back to the house was off the table. They’d have to bolt for it.
No less than what he deserved, Jet figured. He needed a drenching with freezing-cold rainwater to douse his lusty reaction to Emily Irving. While she’d given him the rundown of what needed to be done and introduced each horse by name, he’d been surreptitiously checking out her assets. She had a luscious ass, round and full, and a rack that could easily fill both his hands—which he knew he shouldn’t picture doing but did anyway. Even the way she caressed the animals, how they snickered into her palm as she spoke to them in soothing tones, had somehow been sexy.
He, who’d given horses a wide berth since Mule had kicked him when he was twelve, was turned on by watching a woman stroke her hand down a stallion’s flank. He’d developed a healthy erection that Emily had been, luckily, too focused on the horses to notice.
“We could wait it out,” Emily suggested.
Wait here with you and a persistent hard-on? Too dangerous. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to ease up. I think we should run.”
“Yeah, I know. After three?”
“Agreed.”
They counted to three in unison, then launched out of the protection of the stable. The rain lashed them in sheets, soaking Jet’s shirt and obscuring his vision. He dodged puddles when he could, but avoiding them all was impossible. When Jet found a puddle that went deeper than he’d e
xpected, he landed awkwardly and pain shot through his ankle. His balance was toast, and he tripped.
Landing face first in the mud.
“Jet! Are you okay?”
Jet wiped the mud from his face, spat some from inside his mouth. He didn’t look up, afraid of what a ridiculous picture he would make. “I’m fine. You go.”
“Not without you. Come on.”
She put out her hand for him to take. As if he wasn’t embarrassed enough. Jet waved her off and stood on his own. At least the rain that fell in torrents did a pretty good job of cleaning him off. He followed Emily’s lead from then on, stepping where she stepped until they made it back to the porch without further incident.
“Wow, that’s really coming down,” Emily remarked once they were under the overhang. “Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself?”
“Only my pride,” he said, ignoring the tenderness in his ankle. He must have twisted it when he fell. Not a big deal.
“If you’re sure. You fell pretty hard.” She glanced at his muddied state and quickly looked away, biting her lip as though to keep it from curving.
“You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”
“Of course not.” But her voice trembled with the effort of trying not to. “It’s not funny at all, watching a grown man fall face first into the mud. Laughing would be a horrible thing to do.”
She was peering at him from beneath her lashes, looking so adorable Jet figured he’d have a hard time denying her anything. Even a laugh at his expense. He made a circular motion with his hand. “Go ahead. Let it all out.”
She covered her mouth but the act didn’t stifle her giggles. It was such a melodic sound, so enchanting that Jet couldn’t help the way his own lips curved. Pretty soon, he was laughing too, a laugh he felt deep in his gut.
“It’s not funny,” he wheezed after a few moments when his guffaws and hers started to ebb. “I picked the wrong day to wear a white shirt.”
“I did offer you a rain jacket, but you refused because you’re such a tough guy.”
“I refused because nobody looks good in yellow.” Except you, he silently added, noticing how even the shapeless waterproof coat she wore didn’t dim her appeal.
“Oh, thanks!” Emily said, unzipping the coat and shrugging out of it. “Just what a woman in yellow wants to hear.”
“I didn’t mean…” The explanation died on his tongue when Jet realized she was biting her lip again, and that amused twinkle continued to shine bright in her green eyes. “You’re teasing me. Geez, woman, haven’t I suffered enough?”
“I guess one humiliating face plant is sufficient to keep you humble for now.”
“Do I need humbling?”
“Men who look like you usually do.”
She turned quickly to focus on hanging her raincoat on a hook by the back door. Jet sensed it was a ploy to avoid his gaze. Was she embarrassed because she’d revealed she thought he was handsome?
Jet’s blood heated, warding off the chill of the late-autumn air penetrating his wet clothes. He couldn’t help feeling elated at the thought that Emily might have been checking him out as he had been her, but he tamped down the response immediately. You came here for Brand, not a woman—certainly not Brand’s woman. I thought you were on the gay side of the bisexual fence anyway?
“We should get you out of those wet clothes.”
Apparently there was a lot of hetero left in him because Jet’s cock, which had shriveled after his fall in the ice-cold mud, tingled back to life at Emily’s words. Yep, definitely strong heterosexual tendencies there. “I have stuff in the saddlebags on my bike.”
“Why not wait in the house until the rain eases up? It can’t stay this torrential for long. In the meantime you can borrow something of Brand’s.”
She offered Brand’s clothes the way a wife would a husband’s, but Jet had subtly checked out her left hand earlier. No ring. Not that he could picture Brand married to a woman. But it was obvious Brand and Emily were close.
One more reason to stop ogling her. And get out of here before Brand comes back and realizes you’re lusting after his woman.
But he definitely wasn’t going anywhere in these clothes. “That’d be great, if you’re sure Brand wouldn’t mind.”
“Why not? You two are old friends, right?”
He only hesitated a fraction of a second. “Yeah.”
“You might as well have a shower too. Can’t have you catching a cold.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He didn’t relish the idea of riding off in this weather in the filthy clothes he had on. “Since you’re being so generous, I guess I should forgive you for laughing at me.”
She smiled. “You already had.”
Jet chuckled. The woman had sass, and charm by the bucket load. He supposed he could picture Brand hitched, after all, if it was to someone like Emily. A woman like her would be difficult to let go.
He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and peeled it off, the cotton making wet sucking sounds as it detached from his body. He held it out in front of him. “Do you have a bucket or something I can rinse this out in?”
“Oh, I’ll take it. I’ll put it straight in the machine.”
Emily reached for the shirt, stumbling as she did so. Probably because she was staring at a spot somewhere past his shoulder and not directly at him. In fact she seemed to be going out of her way to look everywhere except at him.
Smothering a knowing smile, Jet encircled her wrist with his fingers. Holding her hand in place, he plopped the wet shirt into it. “Thanks. You’re a gem.”
Her eyes connected with his for a brief moment, while he held her wrist in his hand. They were standing too close, and Jet knew it, but it took a moment for his body to respond to the warnings his brain was delivering. In those few seconds, something sizzled between him and Emily, something that made him forget he was standing outside in the bracing air of approaching evening, shirtless, his skin wet and chilled.
Emily was the first to move. She took a giant step back, holding his shirt balled up in her suddenly tight grip. “The bathroom’s down the hall that leads off the living room, first door on your left. When you’re out of the…the jeans I’ll grab those too.”
Without waiting for a response, Emily escaped into the house. That was the word for it—escaped. Like she was afraid of him.
Jet could have kicked himself. He shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have stood there gazing at her like she was a gazelle and he was a hungry lion. It was inappropriate and it had made Emily uncomfortable. But once he’d realized she was as attracted to him as he was to her, he’d been unable to resist playing with that. He always had been a flirt, but for the last few years he’d only practiced those skills on men. He’d forgotten how sensitive and jittery women could be.
Especially when there was a stranger in their house.
Yep, he definitely deserved a kick in the ass for the way he’d behaved. And if Brand came home and found his “old friend” half-dressed in his house, Jet figured he’d be the one to deliver it.
Chapter Three
When Emily got her breath and her composure back after that embarrassing incident on the back patio, she realized the light on her answering machine was blinking. It could be a customer inquiring about her stabling services or the beach rides, but even before she pushed the button to play the message she knew it wasn’t.
It was Brand.
“Hey, Em,” he said in his deep, familiar drawl. “The sandbagging is taking longer than we thought. The rain hasn’t let up, and we need to protect more of the houses farther up river. A couple of the other guys had to go back to their families, so I’m going to stay and pull the night shift. I have to keep the mobile inside where it’s dry, so you might not be able to reach me. Sorry I’m missing out on the lamb ragout, though.”
Emily smiled, rememb
ering how that morning she’d promised Brand lamb ragout for dinner when he returned from his heroic duties, with a dessert of strawberries and cream to be eaten off any part of her body he wished. She was sorry he wouldn’t be here for that part in particular. She was feeling far too achy and hot for a woman who’d recently been out in the cold rain. A healthy dose of Brand’s loving was definitely in order.
Then maybe she could erase the image of Jet Durante shirtless and wet from her filthy, filthy mind.
“Take care, Em,” Brand continued. “Lock up. I know you feel safe where you are, but you never know who’s lurking about. I…I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Emily let out a sigh when the loud click heralded the end of the message. For a moment there she’d thought he’d been about to say I love you, and her pulse had done its usual leap before settling down to its normal, if slightly disappointed, rhythm.
It wasn’t the first time she’d thought the declaration was resting on the tip of Brand’s tongue, and she suspected Brand did love her. He showed her with actions every day, with the way he worried about her locking up or how he fixed things around the house before she could ask him to. With the way he held her so close at night. How could she not believe he loved her when he made her feel so loved? Yet, he still hadn’t uttered the words.
Even though she had.
“So he’s not coming back tonight.”
Emily let out a yelp, whirling around to see Jet standing on the other side of the living room. Jet, wearing Brand’s clothes—faded jeans and a flannel shirt that were both slightly loose on him. Better than the tight T-shirt. At least this way your eyes won’t be tempted to wander.
Jet showed her a contrite expression. “Sorry. I guess I’m one of those creepy types Brand was talking about, always lurking.”
“You weren’t lurking. I was lost in thought, that’s all.”
“With a dreamy smile on your face, too.” Jet nodded toward the answering machine. “He sounds the same. Very Russell Crowe in Gladiator.”