Wetwork

by Marie Harte

  Ruth was a lot like her mother, probably the reason their father had strayed in the first place. Not that Emma would ever say something so mean, but Ruth didn’t make it easy to love her.

  So Scott…yes, Emma could see the slimy jerk pulling something like this. The handcuffs and panties, but the wren and the mask? They seemed a little sophisticated for him. Still, enough was enough. Emma would ask him about the presents when next she saw him.

  In the meantime, she placed the cuffs back in the box, with the wrapping, and stuffed them in the storage box at the bottom of the front closet with the other gifts. Out of sight out of mind.

  Yet she kept the lights on in her bedroom the entire night and jumped at every little sound. The next morning she felt as if someone had poured sand over her eyes, they were so gritty. Her head throbbed, and hearing Ruth’s loud laughter at seven in the morning didn’t help.

  Seven… Hell.

  Emma raced into the shower, dried and changed in no time, and left for work with a wet head. Fortunately, her steadfast employee, Cat, had already done most of the afternoon’s prep work that Emma should have started.

  “Sorry, I slept past my alarm.” Frazzled, Emma scooped her hair into a ponytail then tied on an apron. After a quick wash of her hands, she got started on the cookie batter Cat had begun.

  “Well look at you. Late for the first time in…what? Four years?” Cat grinned. An older woman in her mid-forties, she lived with her husband and two children a few short miles away. She’d been with the bakery since Emma’s aunt had taken over the running four years ago. Cat had done her best to breathe life into the place, but with her workload at home, she couldn’t do more than part-time. And honestly, her heart wasn’t in it. Not like Emma’s was.

  “Yeah. Went to a party last night,” Emma confessed.

  “Good for you! About time you started socializing.”

  Emma blushed. “It was fun.” It had been. Especially sitting next to the blond hunk all night.

  “You need to get out more. After that last loser you dated, I swear, it’s like you went into seclusion.”

  “It wasn’t that bad—”

  “You haven’t gone out for ten months. Yeah, I counted.” Cat harrumphed. “Dead weight, you ask me. Men can be treasures, like my Davey, or dickheads, like that Patrick was.” She looked around, and seeing no one near added, “Or just skeevy, like Scott. Honestly, I don’t know how Ruth puts up with him. But then, I don’t know how you put up with Ruth either.”

  Emma shared a conspiring grin. “I’m trying my best to get into heaven. What can I say?”

  “Yeah, you should be sainted for dealing with those two.”

  Emma shrugged. “Someone’s gotta help her.”

  “You ask me—”

  “You said that once already.”

  “—you should kick her ass goodbye. She doesn’t like the store or your place? Move on out, missy.”

  “She has nowhere to go.” Emma felt for her sister. Ruth’s mother was a shrew, and the two did not get along. With their father recently passed, Ruth had no one to look out for her. Scott sure the heck didn’t count.

  “So what? She has a job.”

  “Here.” Emma sighed. “Ruth said it wouldn’t be forever. I’m sure once she starts school, she’ll move out.”

  “Really? I have some property to sell you. On the moon.” Cat cackled.

  Emma knew she might as well have the word dupe tattooed to her forehead, but she’d been raised to respect family. Her mother had passed, then her father and Aunt Meg six months ago. Ruth was all she had left. Emma had no cousins or other siblings. Just a resentful younger sister. Ah, the joy of family.

  She spent the remainder of her morning chatting with Cat about the party and Maggie’s hunky brother. Emma thrived on female friendship. When she thought about it, she didn’t act goofy around all handsome men, just the ones she might be interested in. The ones who gave her butterflies. Like Patrick, her ex, who’d dumped her for a redheaded model who didn’t stammer when he talked to her.

  Maybe she should try to be interested in the ones who didn’t make her nervous.

  The noon rush hit, and she took over for Eden in the front, waiting on customers while Cat took a lunch break and Eden frosted cupcakes in back. She waited on some regulars, Garrett, Phil, Sue, and a few others, exchanging pleasantries and enjoying feeling like a part of the community. Just as things slowed and she was able to catch a breath, he walked in. Trevor Doran. In the flesh.

  “Well, hello, temptation.”

  Chapter Three

  He’d done his best, but thoughts of Emma had refused to leave him all night. Since he had nothing better to do than report—again—to Evan about the incident in the alley, he decided to treat himself to some sweets before going to the office. Sweets referring to the fine woman behind the counter and the decadent smells of goodness saturating the place.

  Just as she’d seemed last night, she looked both wholesome and naughty. The way she’d shyly look away from his gaze before mustering the courage to make eye contact again made him want to protect her—from himself even.

  But damn, she sure looked good in an apron. Too easily he could imagine her in nothing but the apron, her hair pinned up, the golden strands licking her neck in a fall of spun silk. Her generous breasts overflowing the white cotton with the bird emblazoned in the center.

  “Um, can I get you something?”

  He realized he’d been standing there staring at her and had to chuckle. “Sorry. You’re just so pretty I stopped thinking about food for a sec.”

  That pretty blush stole over her cheeks. “Oh. Well.” She swallowed. Waited. Blinked a few times, then a slow smile worked over her lips. “How about a cookie?”

  “Peanut butter, right?” Okay. He was taking this one to bed. His libido had chosen a fine time to wake up and be noticed. But at least he hadn’t been thinking about Dana anymore. Oddly, he hadn’t thought about her much at all since last night. To his surprise, not feeling bad felt…good.

  He frowned.

  “Or not. Would you rather have a sugar cookie?” Emma asked, misreading his displeasure.

  He shook off his confusion and focused on the here and now. Trevor had always been good at compartmentalizing. “No, no. Peanut butter is fine. And a medium coffee too.”

  “For here or to go?”

  “The cookie and coffee for here. Add another dozen cookies, I don’t care what flavors, to the order. Those to go.”

  “Okay.” She rang him up—not including his cookie, he realized with a smile.

  After they exchanged money and she handed him his order, he asked, “Any way I could interest you in joining me for a minute?” The shop looked calm, with only a few people sitting around the tables in front of the store. The glass case showcasing the treats was more than two-thirds empty of its contents, and if the taste was as good as the smell in this place, he could see why.

  “Well, I…”

  The bell over the door rang as a couple entered.

  She gave him a stiff smile. “Maybe later.”

  He swallowed a sigh, wondering why she seemed at times to like him and other times to loathe him. Last night she’d sent him both hot and cold signals. Staring at him like a hungry predator eyeing prey one minute, scooting as far away from him on the couch as she could the next. She hadn’t acted funny around the women or the other guys. Just him.

  Trevor wasn’t used to being disliked. A natural charmer, he’d usually been able to talk the pants off a woman with ease. He respected women, loved kissing and touching them, and genuinely liked female companionship. And he sure the hell liked Emma. He decided he’d study her while he enjoyed the cookie, to see if he could make sense of her.

  He took a seat with his back to the wall that still allowed him to view the whole bakery. Able to see her tension from here, he wondered if she perhaps knew the couple sauntering to the counter.

  “Ruth,” Emma said. “I thought you were supposed to c
ome in at eleven. It’s nearly twelve-thirty.”

  “Hi, sweet thing,” the guy said. He looked a few years older than Emma, probably late twenties. But Trevor didn’t like the mocking expression on his face.

  “Scott.” Frost coated her tone. “You’re late, Ruth. What’s your excuse this time?”

  Trevor took a sip of coffee, looking casual but alert to trouble.

  “Jesus, Emma. Gimme a break. It’s dead in here.” The dark haired woman glanced around, saw him and did a double take before whispering in a loud voice, “Who is that?”

  “A customer.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. Defensive, angry, and trying to be quiet about it, he noted. “If you’re not here to work, why are you here?”

  “We’re hungry.” Scott reached out to stroke her arm, and Emma took a deliberate step back. “See, Ruth? Your sister hates me. I told you.”

  “I don’t—”

  “I didn’t want to believe him, but I can see you have issues,” Ruth said. “Really? First you steal Dad, now you’re giving my boyfriend the cold shoulder? In public?” she asked, raising her voice.

  Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m tired. I have a headache, and you know, I’m getting sick of this.” She moved behind the glass counter, grabbed a few items and stuffed them in a bag she handed to Ruth. “Here. Just go.”

  Ruth grabbed the bag from Emma and yanked Scott with her toward the exit. Scott glanced over his shoulder and blew Emma a kiss.

  Disturbed by the scene he’d witnessed, Trevor waffled about whether to butt in or stay out of it. A family matter, obviously. But Ruth and Emma didn’t seem like close sisters. Ruth hadn’t looked like Emma at all. Taller and slighter than her sister, she wore bitterness like a stale perfume. If Maggie had pulled that kind of attitude on him he’d have taken her over his knee. No matter what her age.

  Emma had caved, and he hadn’t like it one bit. And that dickhead, Scott… Trevor didn’t like the way Emma had shied from him. Or the way her sister seemed to blame her for something not her fault. Hell, he didn’t know the situation, but even he could see Emma didn’t like the guy for good reason.

  She glanced over at him, her lips pursed.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “Kind of hard to ignore people giving you a hard time.”

  She glanced away from him, her grip on the counter telling.

  “Family. What can you do, right?” he teased.

  Her fingers eased, and she seemed to relax. “Yeah.” She left the counter and disappeared into the back, then reappeared with a wet rag. As she moved to clear off a few tables, wiping them down, he decided to learn more.

  “Younger sister?”

  Emma nodded. “Ruth is twenty-two.”

  Going on twelve, he wanted to say but didn’t. “You’re older.”

  “By two years. Almost three,” she said absently.

  “You two don’t look much alike.”

  After a pause, she explained, “We share the same father. I look more like him. She takes after her mother.” In a lower voice she added, “In more ways than one.”

  He chuckled, and she stopped by his table and smiled with him, no longer looking so beat down. “Thanks for not making me feel better. What about you? Are you close with your family?”

  Pleased she cared enough to ask, he answered, “It’s just me and Maggie. Always has been.”

  “Always?”

  She didn’t seem timid with him now. Good. He nodded. “Our parents died when Maggie was just a baby. We moved around to a bunch of foster homes, but we had a good life. I’m older than Maggie, and when I turned eighteen, I went off to college and left her. It was tough. She cried, and my heart about broke. But I knew she was in a good place, and I had to go.” He’d never had a problem sharing intimate details, but normally he only offered them if asked. With Emma, he wanted to see how she’d respond.

  Her eyes softened. “Oh, that’s nice how close you are. Sorry about your parents.”

  “Happened a long time ago.”

  “My mom passed four years ago, and it was hard. My aunt and dad left six months ago. Freak car accident. It was so unexpected.” She sighed. “I didn’t know Ruth well at all back then. Ruth needed a place to stay and moved in after Christmas. It’s been interesting, to say the least.”

  “I’ll bet.” He took another sip of coffee, keeping things casual. “And that Scott. Her boyfriend?”

  She made a face. “I don’t like him.”

  “I don’t either, and I don’t know him.”

  She shared a genuine smile with him, and he felt as if he’d hung the moon. “I’ve tried, nicely, telling Ruth that he’s not a nice person, but she’s so angry at the world, at me, she won’t listen.”

  “He seemed a little friendlier with you than you liked.”

  “He’s a jerk.” She stiffened again.

  He didn’t want that. “You handled him just right. Not giving into bullies usually makes them go away.”

  “Yeah.”

  “If you want I could put his head through the window. Anytime, just ask.”

  She smiled again. “I might take you up on that.”

  “Well, since I’m on a lucky streak, how about a date?”

  Emma froze. “A date?”

  “Yep. You and me. Coffee, a movie, dinner. Anything you like.”

  I like you. She didn’t know how it had happened, but she’d relaxed talking to him. Now though, her nerves flared to life again. She bit her lip and stepped back. But she hadn’t realized how close the other table was and she knocked into it, sending a cup half filled with water to the floor.

  “Shoot.” Her face felt on fire.

  Trevor, bless him, tried to bite back a smile. It looked painful.

  She blew out a breath and turned away. “Oh, go ahead. Laugh. I’m a klutz.”

  His deep chuckle didn’t offend her, which surprised her. “A cute klutz. One I’m dying to get a date with.”

  “Really?” She mopped up the water with her sopping rag, wrung it out in the glass, and mopped more. “Even while I’m on my hands and knees with this mess?”

  He didn’t say anything, so she chanced another glance at him. And wow, was he staring at her with intensity.

  “Oh yeah. Even on your hands and knees.”

  Realizing what she’d said, and what he’d heard, she whipped her gaze to the floor, hiding behind her hair. He laughed again, but he sounded kind, not cruel. Then he was on his knees next to her, helping her up off the floor.

  “There. Now we’ve both been on our knees.” Except he didn’t say it as if he were being funny. He sounded all dark and suggestive.

  Her entire body felt like one live nerve, especially since he had a hand cupped under her elbow, his presence huge, overwhelming , and just the way she wanted a man. Bigger than life and demanding while keeping her safe.

  “T-Trevor?” she whispered.

  “Say yes, Emma. Just one little date. I’ll take you to dinner. And I swear, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  A gentleman? Disappointment set in. So not what she really wanted. Emma wanted—needed—out-of-control, rough, demanding sex with a dominant man. But because Trevor had been so nice—and oh my God he’s asking me, Emma Clark, on a date—she said yes.

  He squeezed her elbow, then ran his hand up her arm to her shoulder and squeezed again. “Thanks, sweetheart. We’ll have a good time. I promise.” He kissed her cheek, and the subtle waft of his cologne made her lightheaded. “Hell. I’ve got to get to the office.” He stepped back and picked up his coffee and bag of cookies. Then he shoved the rest of his cookie in his mouth and grinned. “I’ll call you,” he said, muffled through his treat.

  She nodded and watched him leave, not sure any of it had been real. But no, the water glass in her hand was now full of nasty water from the floor. Emma turned and floated into the back room, where Cat stood staring at her, wide-eyed.

  “That was so amazing!”

  “Cat?” Emma got her breathing
under control and put the dirty dish and rag in the sink. Then she washed her hands and sent Eden back to the front.

  “We watched the whole thing.”

  Eden gave her a thumbs up and a wink as the college student moved past her to man the register.

  “I mean, he was eyeing you like a cupcake the whole time. And he didn’t like Scott. At all. I could tell.” Cat sounded excited. “That’s Maggie’s brother, isn’t it? They look alike.”

  “Yeah.” Emma tried to calm her racing heart but couldn’t. She’d agreed to go out on a date with a blond Adonis. Oh. Wow.

  She spent the remainder of her day in a daze, working while thinking about Trevor. Their date wouldn’t go anywhere. She knew that. Oh, she was pretty and not bad at sex if they even got that far. But a relationship? No. She’d tried, but men never seemed to want her for more than a few nights. The too-nice guys bored her to tears. The other ones…they’d date, have sex, but when they tried telling her what to do all the time, she rebelled. They left.

  Cat liked to tell her she chose the wrong men. That Emma had a type. Alpha assholes, Cat called them. But those were the only guys who excited her. Trevor was an anomaly, as far as she could tell. He seemed dominant and nice. Probably going out with her as a favor to Maggie. She’d more than once heard the petite blond complaining that her brother needed a girlfriend.

  Now feeling letdown about the date, she finished up and sent Eden and Cat home. After locking up, she left by the front door under the streetlights. The sun had set hours ago, and now the dark cold of Seattle’s near-spring gave her the shivers. She tightened her jacket around her and turned to hustle a few blocks home.

  A hard body knocked into her. “Damn, sorry, Emma.”

  She swallowed the shriek she’d been about to let loose and eased against John, her storefront neighbor. His computer repair shop was a block over. He’d been friendly and always had a smile for her. Except now, his face shadowed, her imagination painted him in a sinister light.

  She gave him a wobbly smile and took a step back. “Hi John.”

  “How’ve you been? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.” He still stood too close, as was his way. John had the computer nerd vibe down to a science with his lack of social awareness and rambling about code. Though cute and friendly, he tended to overpower her with conversation and a constant nearness if not managed—in other words, she avoided him when she could.