Wetwork

by Marie Harte

  “What a coincidence. I love eating.”

  Emma looked him over, her eyes wide. “You must eat a lot.”

  Maggie snorted. “No kidding. There’s never any leftovers when Trevor stays for dinner. Between him and Mac, my grocery bill has tripled.”

  “Please. You eat enough for three of me. Don’t let her size fool you, Emma.” Trevor paused. “Then again, you two are about the same height. For all I know, you’re a Hoover too.”

  Emma blinked and hemmed a reply while Maggie berated him for teasing Emma into a stammer. The other women joined them, and the conversation turned to Maggie’s art. She’d become a hotshot in the art world, and he couldn’t have been happier for her.

  Emma, he noted, smiled with warmth, encouraging talk about Maggie. But she didn’t say much, just listened to the more assertive speak out. She also shot him a few side glances she probably didn’t think he’d noticed.

  When she nibbled her lower lip, for some reason, he couldn’t look away. He kept picturing those lips working on other body parts. Namely, his.

  God, maybe those assholes from the alley landed a head wound I hadn’t noticed. How else to explain his incredible attraction for the demure woman. Typically, Trevor went for bold, aggressive women, loving the challenge of taming them in bed. He loved being dominant, loved working to subdue and claim his lovers.

  Emma seemed too soft, too shy, too…something. So why did he find her so fascinating?

  Maggie announced it was time to play her stupid game. Not stupid, fun and challenging, he could just imagine her correcting him. His sister looked angelic, but she was a demon when it came to competition.

  Janelle smiled at him. “You know, we should make teams. Why don’t you—”

  Before he could rethink it, he pretended he hadn’t been aware Janelle was going to ask him to partner her. He turned to Emma with his most charming smile. “Teams are a great idea. I need a partner for the game. How about it, Emma?”

  Chapter Two

  How about remembering how to speak, dummy? Emma mentally slapped herself and offered Trevor a shaky smile, praying she didn’t look as goofy as she felt as she did her best not to stare at the blond god wanting her for a partner.

  Oh man, why did Maggie have to have such a hot brother? Emma found it awkward enough to deal with normal men. Her sister’s creepy boyfriend made Emma want to crawl into a hole and never come out again. Her shop neighbor John did his best to put her at ease, but she always felt skittish in his presence. Mac and Shane, both attached and totally in love with their girlfriends, didn’t bother her so much. Neither had looked at her like anything but a friend and eased her social clumsiness. She had no problem talking around them.

  Trevor made her feel as if a bazillion butterflies had taken flight inside her belly. She’d been okay talking to him at first, but when he looked into her eyes, staring at her as if he really saw her, she hadn’t thought she’d be able to manage more than a squeak. He was powerful, strong, and he immediately brought to mind all the naughty things she thought about when she lay in bed, alone.

  Totally not the time or place to delve into erotic fantasies. Ruth was right. She read too much. Her younger sister lived to criticize, but perhaps she’d been correct in that particular assessment.

  Emma bit her lower lip, a nervous habit, and saw Trevor’s gaze focus on her mouth.

  “Play with me. It’ll be fun.” His voice sounded deep, husky, manly. And his hands. She could have swooned from that handshake alone. Trevor had big, hot hands.

  Of course her dirty mind wondered if that whole hand size/genitalia correlation had any merit. A subtle look at his shoes showed he had big feet too. Whoa, Momma.

  “Anything else to drink before we get started guys? Are you all good? Emma?” Maggie asked.

  “N-nothing.” She coughed, trying to get it together. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  Perky, pretty, and blond, Maggie had a been a ray of sunshine at Sweets n’ Tweets since Emma had taken over the running of the bakery three years ago. Maggie would normally arrive in the morning before work, picking up treats for herself and her friends—and now her fiancé. She’d introduced herself right away, and before Emma knew it, Maggie had turned from a customer into a friend. One who had blond perfection for a brother.

  Talk about bad luck.

  Swallowing a groan, Emma followed Trevor to the couch and sat next to him but tried to keep some space between them. She didn’t think her heart could take it if their bodies brushed. Then Mac joined them, taking up more space.

  “Scoot closer. I won’t bite.” Trevor smiled. Seeing those straight teeth, she wondered if he did bite. Supposition had it Trevor Doran was a force to be reckoned with between the sheets. At least, according to Janelle and Kayla. They’d been going on about Maggie’s brother all night when out of Maggie’s earshot, even before he’d arrived. But they hadn’t lied. The man was sex-ee.

  Janelle exchanged a knowing look with Kayla before smirking at Emma. “Are we going to play or wait for you two to stop playing footsie?”

  Emma tried to make herself smaller and moved her foot away from Trevor’s, alarmed to find them touching. She thought she heard him sigh but then the game started.

  Janelle and Kayla. Why had Maggie invited them? Both snooty society women, the pair worked at a law firm downtown. Wealthy, beautiful, and in Kayla’s case, sculpted by the best plastic surgeons money could buy. Or so she’d said after knowing Emma for all of five minutes.

  Emma had never had the money or the inclination to reshape her body. For all that she sometimes had issues talking with men she found attractive, she liked her body and her face just fine. She just wished she didn’t find it so difficult to deal with the opposite sex. It made dating a nightmare. First impressions could be lasting, and once Emma opened her mouth, she rarely got a second date.

  She sighed.

  “What’s that?” Trevor leaned close, and his breath brushed her ear.

  She shivered. “Oh, um. Nothing.”

  He winked at her then engaged with the shameful pair of desperate divorcees across the coffee table scrambling for his attention. Emma smiled but said little while her partner teased the others, obviously comfortable in social settings.

  She wanted to hang herself from the nearest chandelier. Emma did okay at parties but preferred solitude. She could manage social niceties just fine, but throw a sexy guy her way and she turned into a babbling idiot.

  Maggie called the room to order, and they started to play the latest craze in trivia games. Focused on the game, Emma surreptitiously studied Trevor. How had Maggie called him a nice guy and not too ugly with a straight face? The man had surpassed good-looking at awe-inspiring and drop-dead gorgeous.

  His bright blue eyes and blond hair, in need of a cut, would attract attention no matter where he went. For some reason she couldn’t see him as a financier though. Maggie had called him an international banker. From the hint of a tattoo Emma could see underneath his sleeve when he moved, the man had obvious hidden depths.

  The romance addict in her imagined a better background for him. Viking, pirate or spy. With that build and those amazing eyes, maybe a barbarian or sorcerer.

  Trevor leaned in again. “Your turn to answer.” His cheek nearly brushed hers when Mac nudged him to move over on the couch, and she swallowed around a dry throat.

  “Okay.” Whatever you want. Dance around in my underwear? Sure. Sell you my car? Name your price. Have your babies? No problem.

  Maggie read the card, something about Sesame Street, a show Emma had watched maybe once in her entire life.

  “Um. I have no clue.”

  Trevor coughed and under his breath said, “Green guy in the can.”

  Even as a child Emma had preferred to read over watching television. That or following her father around on the rare occasions he came to visit, when he wasn’t with his real family. “The Hulk?”

  Kayla snorted. “Oh my God. It’s Oscar the Grouch. Haven’t you
ever watched Sesame Street?”

  “One time, I think.”

  “What did you watch as a kid, then?” Janelle had to ask.

  “I read books.” Emma shrugged. Winnie the Pooh. Charlotte’s Web. Choose Your Own Adventure had been a favorite series of hers.

  Trevor nodded. “Me too.”

  “Please.” Maggie shook her head. “Comic books don’t count.”

  “Hey. There are as many words as pictures in them.”

  Mac added, “Not to mention a sizable rack on Wonder Woman, am I right?”

  Trevor grinned.

  Emma wished she could compete with that veritable Amazon, but she’d been built on the small side. She had boobs but not much else. Then again, being small had helped during her years in gymnastics. She might not be super fast or huge, but she could bend like a pretzel. Her ex-boyfriends had loved that about her. Unfortunately, they hadn’t loved much else.

  She forced herself to stop dwelling on the negative and tried to accept the nerves and flustered arousal caused by the man next to her. Sitting next to him was as good as going out with him, since it was probably as close as she’d ever get to being with a man like Trevor—aggressive, sexy, fun to be around.

  She swallowed another sigh and played the game for the next hour, glad Trevor didn’t make her answer too many more questions.

  “Well, sorry you guys.” Kayla didn’t look sorry. “But I think Janelle and I won.”

  Poor Trevor should have been paired with one of them. Unapologetic flirts who excelled at trivia and breast sharing. Good Lord, if Janelle leaned any closer to Trevor she might fall off her chair.

  Shane and Shelby caught her in the act and exchanged an amused glance. So Emma hadn’t been the only one to see that. Good. She wasn’t feeling weirdly possessive for no reason. Not that she had any right to claim Trevor as anything other than her partner. Oh my God. Stop being the weird girl at the party!

  Everyone made small talk while Emma quietly rose from her spot and used the restroom.

  Well, an evening spent next to a handsome guy, and I wasn’t a total tool. Proud of herself, she washed up and took her time resettling her nerves.

  Emma returned to the group to make her excuses to leave. Before she reached Maggie, Trevor intercepted her.

  “There you are. So what’s this I hear about your cookies?” He rubbed his firm belly. “I’m a sucker for peanut butter, and Maggie says you make the best. When’s a good time to stop by for the fresh stuff?”

  Confident and comfortable in her baking skills, if not her way with men, she answered his broad chest. Easier to talk if she didn’t have to look into that amazing face. “It’s, um, we bake fresh daily. But the cookies…” She thought about it. “If you swing by this weekend, come in in the morning. During the week, probably around noon. That’s when I like to put in the afternoon trays if we sell through in the morning. Lately, the muffins have been pretty popular, though. So I’m not making as many cookies in the afternoon.” Ramble much?

  Trevor didn’t seem to find her dull. He nodded. “Good. I’ll swing by Monday if you’re working.”

  “I’m always working. But you can get the cookies anytime.” Ruth liked to make cookies. Her sister wasn’t a bad cook. A poor example of family, but the girl could bake.

  “I can make you cookies,” Janelle teased.

  “So can I,” Kayla added with a wink. “Any flavor you want.”

  Emma smiled weakly and weaved around Trevor and the ladies to find Maggie chatting with Shelby. “Hey guys. Sorry to cut out on you, but I have to get up early tomorrow.” Ten o’clock had come and gone, and Emma was an early riser. “Time for me to go. Thanks so much for inviting me.”

  “Oh, do you have to?” Shelby asked. “I barely got to talk to you. Between Trevor and Maggie hogging you, I feel left out.”

  Her sincere smile made Emma feel good. Shelby she liked. Janelle and Kayla, not so much. “Come by the shop and I’ll save you a cinnamon roll.”

  “It’s a deal. But I know I’ll end up buying a dozen of them for Sir Eats A Lot, I’m sure.” She shot a thumb at her fiancé.

  Shane winked. “Darned right. Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, you know.”

  “She’s my partner. So I’m entitled to my share first,” Trevor teased and came to stand behind her. “Don’t worry, Emma. I would never take advantage of you, not like some people.” He glanced at his sister and Shelby. “No freebies for me. I’ll buy my way into your favor instead.”

  Her favor? He already had it. Boy, did he. Emma flushed. “That’s okay. First cookie’s on the house. It’s policy.” She made a big deal of checking her cell phone. “You know, I really do have to go.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Trevor volunteered.

  “That’s okay. You don’t need to.”Emma hurried to her jacket in the closet and pulled it on, then fished her keys out of her pocket.

  “It’s dark out. I’ll see you to your car.”

  Not a question, a command. She tried to contain another shiver, but a glance at Trevor told her he’d seen it. His slow smile unnerved her.

  He put a hand at the small of her back, and she felt his touch through her jacket, all the way to her toes.

  She didn’t argue as he made his goodbyes. It didn’t escape her notice that neither Janelle nor Kayla seemed too sad to see her go.

  Outside, the air was crisp, the sky for once clear. The moon looked huge and bright over a puffy cluster of indigo clouds.

  “Great night, huh?” Trevor put his hand on her elbow, guiding her down the walkway.

  She wanted to giggle, and Emma didn’t do giggles. She cleared her throat. “Yes. Nice night.” With that stellar conversation out of the way, she hurried to her car, which was parked right in front of his. She paused at her door, realizing she should say something. “Well, nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” He held out a hand, so she had to take it. He stared at her as he gripped it, and his thumb stroked her knuckles. She felt those same butterflies bouncing around her stomach again. “See you soon.”

  “Um, okay.”

  He stepped closer, and she froze. “You are so pretty.”

  “I am?”

  He chuckled. “So damn cute.”

  Cute. The kiss of death.

  “You’re so…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he slowly drew closer, hovering so close she thought he’d kiss her. But he only stroked her cheek, his callused finger rough over her skin but so arousing she couldn’t move, stuck in a kind of shocked wonder.

  His nearness sent a bonfire of need through her system. She’d never felt so turned on, not even when she read those naughty books she’d grown addicted to.

  “Yeah, I’ll be seeing you soon.” Trevor raised his finger to her face and skimmed her lips, then dropped his hand. He gently took her keys from her and unlocked her door, then helped her inside and handed them back. “Bye, Emma.”

  She nodded, unable to look away from the hand that had given her so much pleasure. From a simple touch. Imagine what a kiss would do.

  “Bye, Trevor.” Just saying his name gave her a thrill, and she left with her face on fire, her lips still tingling from the contact.

  She arrived home in the duplex she’d inherited from her father and parked in the drive. Emma was halfway to the front porch when she saw a package. Like the other three, this one had been wrapped in silver foil that sparkled under the moonlight. Curious yet worried about what she might find this time, she picked up the package, looked around her, then hurried inside the house and locked the door behind her.

  Ruth must have turned in for the night, because only the light above the kitchen sink lit up the interior of the downstairs. Not a large space, but the open floor plan made the unit look larger than it was. Having a downstairs bedroom helped, especially because it gave her space from the upstairs, where Ruth now resided, using the spare room up there to store her things.

  Emma continued to muse on inconsequential ma
tters. Her younger half-sister’s raw talent for getting on her last nerves, and criticizing everything and anything. Ruth’s creepy boyfriend who looked at Emma like a piece of meat. The new cookie recipe she’d tried last week that had tasted like dirt.

  She grimaced at her thoughts, realizing that though she wanted to, she couldn’t put off the package in her hands any longer. The first package had arrived on Valentine’s Day at the backdoor of Sweets ‘n Tweets. Intrigued at the prospect of a secret admirer, she’d been excited. But last week, finding a gift at her front door had unnerved her.

  Placing the present on the coffee table, she stared down at it and slowly removed her coat, tossing it on the sofa. After rolling up her sleeves, she gently took the package in hand, feeling its slight weight. Nothing ticking, she thought with a touch of dismal humor.

  The first present had been a tiny silver wren, accompanied by a “You’re Sweet” note printed on stock paper. The second arrived a week later, the same note printed on similar card stock, this time accompanying a decorative rose-colored silk eye mask. Something a stylish woman might wear to an upscale party. Odd but not too weird. Then last Friday night she’d received a gift at home. A pair of panties to match the mask. Um, not fun anymore.

  What could her secret admirer have sent this week? Hopefully not the bra to match the panties.

  She quickly unwrapped the foil, noting the precise lines of the wrapping. The square-cut pieces of tape, the perfect little bow. Inside the box, she found a playful pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs. Okay, someone had a kinky streak.

  Someone she didn’t know, who knew where she lived and worked.

  One person came to mind. Scott O’Doyle. Her sister’s boyfriend, and a bigger creep she had yet to meet. He leered and made inappropriate remarks to Emma behind her sister’s back. Knowing how much Ruth thought of the guy, Emma had tried to be nice when warning her sister to be wary. But Ruth wouldn’t hear it. As usual, she had placed the blame for Scott’s attention on Emma. The way she did when blasting Emma for their father’s lack of affection.

  “Always have to be the center of attention, don’t you? The cute little helpless blond. Really, Em. You need help.”