Bought His Life

by Aleka Nakis Tia Fanning

  He jumped out of bed and ran from the room. The slamming of doors and the clanking of metal had her wrapping a robe around her waist and racing to see what was happening. Panicked, she entered the kitchen to find him wearing only an oven glove and a big smile.

  “Not too bad. The lamb isn’t burned. It was only the bread that caught on fire. Good thing I brought an extra loaf.” He reached across the counter and tapped the foil-wrapped bread.

  She laughed and grabbed her phone from the shelf. “Say cheese.”

  He held up his hand and tried to stop her. “How are you going to give that to the photo studio?”

  “I’m not.” She twisted out of his reach. “I’ll keep it all for myself to enjoy during those long, cold nights we have in the Keys.”

  Gathering her into his arms, he kissed her briefly, then raised her chin and looked into her eyes. “We have to talk about my mission, sweetheart.”

  A dreadful cold ran down her spine. She jerked away. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

  “Please, I need to tell you a few things.”

  “No. Not now.” This time she held her palm out to him. “I know. You’re only here for ten more days, and then you’re gone.”

  “Emily—”

  “Stop.” She covered her ears and stomped into the bathroom. “Not tonight,” she hissed, slamming the door between them.

  Releasing the toilet lid, she sat and dropped her head into her hands.

  Just because he’s the best sex I’ve ever had, I can’t expect more from him than from any other man. It’s just sex. Freaking great sex. Earth-shattering sex. No reason to expose my heart.

  Dry sobs consumed her, and her chest heaved.

  If it was only sex, then why was she missing him before he’d left? Why did she want to listen to him? To trust he’d be there?

  There was a knock on the door. “Emily, you okay? Please open, sweetheart.”

  The knot in her throat prevented her from answering. She wiped where the tears should’ve been and wondered why she was so emotional. She’d always been able to control her feelings in the past—in the past. Before Jack Carter.

  “Emily.” The pounding intensified. “Answer me.”

  She pulled the curtain around the tub and turned on the shower water to drown out his concerned voice. It was impossible to talk to him. She’d only cry if she opened her mouth, and she didn’t want him to think she was weak.

  Never did she get so emotional over little things. She was turning into a sissy. Some kind of prissy miss. It royally pissed her off.

  The door swung open, and Jack entered. “Why didn’t you answer?”

  “How did you unlock the door?”

  “Emily!” He stepped closer, and, dropping to his knees, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Honey, you scared me half to death. What’s wrong?”

  How could she tell him that nothing was wrong? He was making everything right. She licked her chafed lips and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I think I’m tired and a bit overwhelmed with things for Pop’s party. It’s not what I had planned. Everything is falling apart.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jack looked into Emily’s eyes and knew there was more she wasn’t ready to share with him. Not only was he unaccustomed to being stonewalled, but it hurt that she didn’t believe in him. It angered him that something, or someone, had done this to her, and she wasn’t capable of trusting him. But he wouldn’t give up. Actions spoke louder than words.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t make promises I can’t keep. And I promise, Pop’s party will go just fine.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheek and pushed her hand away from her ear. She was going to pull that earring right through if she continued twisting it like that. “This is nothing for the woman I met the other day to fret over. You’re strong, vibrant and able to conquer the world. You’ve faced much bigger things and have come out a winner.”

  She nodded and gave him a meek smile. “I know. And thanks for the faith.”

  “Anyway, with me by your side, we’re going to enjoy doing it.” Running a finger down her nose, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I’ll take any excuse to spend time with you.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “No, I’m very selfish. I think a woman in the kitchen is very sexy. Especially when she’s the one wearing only an oven glove and high heels.” He smiled and raised his brows in a playful challenge.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, returning his kiss,

  “Don’t thank me ‘til you taste the lamb. I think I’ve outdone myself this time.” Grinning smugly, he stood and helped her up. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s eat and then you can rest. I think I’ve taken up too much of your sleep.”

  Leaning against his shoulder, she followed. “What if I want you to take up that time?”

  “I guess I’ll have to suffer and oblige your wishes,” he joked. He stopped walking and pulled out a chair for her. “But only after I feed you, you sleep, then rest the whole night in my arms.”

  She sat at the kitchen table, and he made a grand gesture of placing a napkin in her lap. Grabbing her fork and knife, she held them on either side of her plate and smacked her lips, mimicking the actions of a starved woman.

  “Now for a preview of Saturday’s dinner menu. There will be a table set with the famous, secret-family recipe punch from Mama Carter’s book. Blood red and tasty. Rather powerful, but the concoction promises no hangover.”

  “Sounds good. Pops loves punch and thinks we should always serve it. Lucky guess.”

  Lucky guess? Not really. There was always punch at the parties he’d attended in his time. “Yes, you know what they say about luck.”

  She stared at him and wrinkled her nose. “No. What do they say?”

  “It’s better to be lucky than brave.”

  “Wow! Pops says that. Must be a navy man thing.”

  “Must be.” Jack shrugged and continued to list the menu. “Shaved ice boats topped with shrimp, clams and oysters on the half shell. Lemon scattered around them.”

  Emily shook her head. “It’s a nice thought. But who’s going to shuck them?”

  Bringing his fist to his chest like a caveman, he indicated he would. “I grew up on Long Island. Don’t you think I can handle a few clams?”

  “Okay,” she drawled. “Thanks.”

  Growing annoyed, he ignored her repeated gratitude. “Gemma and her friend Holly will offer the guests cheese and crackers, crab cakes and three variations of potato fritters with sauce.”

  “Holly? Gemma got her to agree?” Emily stretched and placed her hands beneath her thighs rocking side to side like an excited schoolgirl. Conflicting emotions, joy and disbelief, colored her face. “When did all this happen?”

  “While you went hunting for key lime pies.”

  Turning to the stovetop, he ladled steamy white broth into bowls and placed it in front of her. “Cream of potato and leek.”

  “Another of Mama Carter’s secret recipes?” Looking at him, she pursed her lips and dipped her spoon into the soup. She stirred the creamy concoction, and the delicious aroma surrounded them.

  “Secret family recipe.” Jack broke bread with his hands and handed her the favored corner. “Dip the potato bread into the soup and eat them together.”

  She did, and her eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Oh my God… Jack, this is orgasmic.”

  “That’s the same response you had earlier,” he teased, entering a comfort zone they shared when her guard was down. Bending to taste a drop on her chin, he laughed at her delight. “Potatoes are what I know.”

  She sipped and dipped until the bread soaked the last drop. “This will be great for dinner. Can we make it ahead of time?”

  “It’s done and in the icebox. My mother used to serve it on a regular basis in the winter, and it always kept. If she wasn’t home, we’d heat it ourselves and dive in.”

  Emily’s eyes grew big and a radiant smile s
pread across her face. “Did you say it was done?”

  He nodded.

  “I appreciate it.” Taking hold of his fingers, she brought them to her lips and kissed his thumb. “You’re very nice to me, and you don’t have to be. I’m used to doing things on my own. I don’t want to be a burden or nag.”

  “Enough, Em.” He jerked his hand away and returned to the oven. “Stop talking like that. I won’t hear it.”

  Suddenly, anger pumped through his veins. He wanted to find the asshole that made her feel unworthy and pound him into the ground. Feeling so protective of a woman he had met only days ago made no sense. What was more, he hadn’t even thought of completing his mission.

  He and Lawson had come to the conclusion that they weren’t going to find Jones, and that they needed to find his family. Once Kimber used the department’s resources to locate them, they could return his lucky charm. He hadn’t even mentioned the watch to Emily. Tomorrow. Or maybe Thursday. He’d wait until Alejandro informed him the one they’d bought on the computer had arrived. Then he’d offer to exchange them.

  Placing fresh plates on the table, he announced the main meal. “Lamb shanks in a merlot sauce, avec smoky flavor d’oven.”

  “Where did you learn to do all this?” Prodding the morsel of meat, which had fallen off the bone when she pierced it, Emily took a bite. “Delicious. Just fantastic, even with the smoky flavor.”

  “I’m happy you like it. While you were out, I placed orders with the suppliers for what we need to make a dinner for ten and a party for one hundred. They’re delivering on Thursday.”

  She dropped her fork and fumbled with the napkin in her lap. “Please don’t feel obligated to do this for me because we’re having sex.”

  That was it. She’d gone too far. How could she think that sex was all they had?

  “What is wrong with you? I’m not doing this for the sex. I’ve been in your bed. I don’t need to woo my way into it by cooking you a meal.”

  Couldn’t she graciously accept his help and stop pushing him away? He needed her to allow him to help. He had to have her as part of his life. She’d be his life.

  “Thanks, Jack. But—”

  “Stop thanking me. I don’t want your gratitude.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn it, Emily. In the past few days, I’ve met two of you. The first is a woman with a passion for life, a woman willing to conquer the world and share her gifts. The second, who is not my favorite, is a woman who turns her back to the world and lets no one near her. It’s frustrating, and I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “You don’t need to make anything of it.” Her jaw squared, and her eyes lost their gleam. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “You’re here for two weeks. Two weeks of us enjoying a tumble or two and nothing else. There is nothing to think about, nothing to make of anything. It’s sex, just sex.”

  “Keep the sex!” Jack threw up his hands and stood. His chair fell back. Not bothering to catch it, he lowered his face and looked her in the eyes. “I don’t do just sex.”

  He covered her mouth with a bruising kiss then walked out the nearest exit. The back door rattled on the frame, and the screen bobbed.

  He stomped toward the road.

  Dropping her head onto her hands, Emily wondered what she’d gotten herself into. If Jack was anything like the other men she’d known, he should be kissing her feet and trying to strip off her clothes instead of walking away. Rather than being relieved for being let off the hook, he was acting disappointed and annoyed.

  Staring at her plate for a while, she decided to call it a night and turn in.

  “Not that I’ll get much sleep, but I’ll be damned if I let a man affect me like this and not try to retain a bit of normalcy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A sleepless and tired Emily waited on her guests, refilled coffee and found that the smallest irregularity rattled her nerves.

  “Hon, what’s got you down?” Betty came up behind her and massaged her shoulders.

  Emily raised them in a dismissive shrug only to have the other woman walk in front of her and give her a stern look.

  “That don’t work with me, missy. I know you too well. Have a tiff with the captain?”

  “No. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  Betty fixed her with a quizzical look and rested her hands on her rounded hips. “Those dark satchels under your eyes tell a different story. I’d say you didn’t get any sleep last night.”

  Emily attempted a strained smile for the woman who knew her so well and rolled her shoulders, trying to release the tension camping there. Truth be told, she hadn’t been able to rest at all. Each time she’d started to drift off to sleep, she’d awoken, reaching for the warm body of the man she’d met only days ago. Perturbed by her need for Jack, a man that was sure to leave quickly, she’d felt uncomfortable and cold in her normally heavenly bed.

  As a last resort, she’d turned off the air and opened the window, allowing the warm ocean breeze to soothe her to sleep twenty minutes before her alarm went off.

  Sulking with regret, she hoped Jack wouldn’t just disappear. He’d been angry enough to slam out of the house the previous night, and she didn’t dare think he’d consider working for her and being around her any longer. But she did hope.

  “Betty, you need those eggs over easy or sunny-side?” Jack called from the kitchen pass-thru.

  At the sound of his voice, Emily’s head whirled to see him in the kitchen window, and her muscles miraculously relaxed. He was there. At Emy’s Place, five minutes before he was scheduled to be. Maybe he came in the back door and she’d missed him. Smiling to herself, she admitted she didn’t care how he got there. He was there, and that was the only thing that mattered.

  Exhaling with relief, she spotted Ricky putting up an order for the couple in the corner table. She hurried to pick it up while Jack was still at the window.

  “Good morning, Jack,” she said, hesitating as she handed him a new order slip.

  “Morning, gorgeous.” He looked at her with a big smile and no evidence of distress from the previous night’s argument, and placed the order on the spinning holder. “Sleep well?”

  Oh, the bastard! He was mocking her. How dare he come into her place all smiley and happy when she’d barely dragged herself behind the counter in one piece?

  “Thank you. I slept just perfect.” She tossed her ponytail and made an effort to walk away with just the right amount of swing in her hips. She smiled extra big as she went to cash out a regular customer.

  Jack grinned, cracked four eggs over the grill and got to work. He was happy to see her wearing makeup, covering the dark circles, because it meant she was as bothered as he’d been and hadn’t slept all too well without him. Placing two links of sausage beside the eggs, he was glad she’d missed him. Maybe this would be enough for her to admit she wanted him in her life for more than two weeks.

  The day passed, and she didn’t speak to him other than about the food she was waiting on for customers. But he noticed how her back grew stiff when he passed behind her, and how she held her breath when he lingered near her at the register. She spent every moment she could away from him and in her office. It was closing time when Emily finally made her way into the kitchen and looked stunned to find him preparing the fritter batter.

  “Hi there, gorgeous.”

  She shifted her weight and stretched her neck, almost as if she’d taken a bite too big to swallow. Being sure not to cross his hands over his chest, for he didn’t want to appear judgmental, he waited for her to speak.

  “I didn’t think you’d be working on Pops’ party,” she said in a raspy voice.

  Jack added some pepper to the mix, then turned to meet her gaze. “I told you I would. Remember the menu from last night?”

  “I do. I also remember that you stormed out of the kitchen, and I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Her gaze was heavy with sad emotions he wasn’t
happy to see embedded there, and the droop of her shoulders spoke volumes. He stopped mixing and let the wooden spoon rest against the lip of the bowl. He smiled so that he’d prepare her for the intimate touch he gave her hand, then he reached to gather her into his arms.

  “Just because we had a disagreement doesn’t mean I’d run from you.” Other men might have done that to her in the past, might have imposed their insecurities on her and might have walked away with their tails between their legs. But Jack knew what he wanted, and he knew that a good reward didn’t always come easy. He was willing to work for her, to endure arguments, and he looked forward to the makeup sessions that would inevitably follow.

  “I said, I don’t do just sex. I didn’t say I’m giving up on us.” He ran his knuckles over her cheek and continued to admire the big wide-eyed stare she gave him. “Don’t look so surprised. A promise is a promise. Just because I’m not sleeping with you, doesn’t mean I’ll break my word.”

  Twisting against his chest, her tongue jutted between her teeth and wet her lips as she pressed her hips to his. Pouting, she was carnal temptation on a platter. “You’re not sleeping with me?”

  “No, I’m not sleeping with you at the moment, and I’m avoiding your bedroom altogether. That is, until you admit I’m more than a tumble or two. Then, once you’ve decided to keep me around, I won’t let you out of bed.”

  She didn’t speak. Just twiddled her thumbs.

  “Emily, let’s not argue right now.” Jack looked into the eyes that could to melt polar icecaps with a single glance. “How about you pull up a chair and keep me company while I roll these fritters. I’ll walk you home when I’m done with them. You’re tired.”

  She dragged a high stool across the floor, went to wash her hands, then climbed atop to form the pasty little balls of potatoes between her hands. They worked in silence, filling two industrial baking trays.

  “I need to get going. Please let me know what you’ll need for the rest of the week.” She stretched like a kitten and took off her apron.

  You! I need you! He admitted silently, aching to say it aloud. “Give me a moment. I’m walking you to the house.”