by Jo Leigh
She turned. “Sure. Did you look in the bag?”
He shook his head and waited for her to lead him into the kitchen. It was as dull as the rest of the house. White appliances, Formica countertops, linoleum flooring. And small. Which, to be honest, wasn’t a big deal for Sam. He wasn’t big on cooking, unless he was grilling.
“That has to be yours,” she said, nodding toward the fancy one-cup coffee brewer.
“That, the TV and my laptop are the only things I can’t live without, and I could probably manage without the laptop.”
“A person needs to have priorities,” she said, opening a cupboard. There was a large supply of coffee pods and a box of Pop-Tarts. Nothing else.
“Breakfast of champions,” he said, reaching over her shoulder for a couple of pods.
Unsettled by his proximity, she slid over to the fridge, almost afraid to see what he’d stocked in it.
“Go ahead and open it. I know you’re dying to.”
Emma gave him a mock glare, even though he was right. The corners of his mouth lifted, making her insides flutter, and she quickly returned her attention to the fridge. Beer. Yellow mustard. A pint of milk. “So, you need a trip to the commissary, as well.”
“I suppose I do.” He was washing out one of the cups that had come with the apartment. It was awful, and small. His travel mug, which was a respectable size if not elegant, was sitting on the counter next to a bag of fast-food wrappings and used napkins.
“Are there any mugs hiding in those boxes?”
His hands stopped. “One. But I’m not sure which box.”
“No problem. Maybe while we’re at the BX we can pick up a few. In case you have company.” She went over to put a mitigating hand on his shoulder, but stopped herself just before she touched him. “Those are horrible.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “Maybe I should box up all this kitchen stuff and replace it, but that’s just one more thing to move when I get transferred.”
“Do you think you will be? So soon?”
He finished with the washing, and set to brewing, and wow, it smelled great. “It’s the military. I always expect to be transferred.”
“I sure don’t miss that part,” Emma said before she’d given the remark any consideration. Though she was considering it plenty after Sam’s sharp look. One she couldn’t quite read, but it wasn’t hard to guess it was about Danny. “Want to give me a tour while the coffee brews?”
“Oh, it’s not going to take that long,” he said with a laugh that seemed to make everything right again.
The rooms were large, which was a plus, just blah. The bedroom set looked as if it had been bought at a motel auction, the bathroom lighting was a nightmare, and even worse, he’d put his whole wardrobe away in the hanging moving boxes.
“That does not look like a comfy bed.”
“Hey, it’s not so bad. At least the lumps in the mattress distracted me from the missing support slat in the frame. I’d let you see for yourself, but I like you too much.”
She laughed and he grinned, and for an instant they were back in Colorado, where they’d first met, before life started throwing curveballs.
* * *
THEY’D FINALLY MADE IT to the bedding section at the BX. It was his first trip here, but God bless the air force for making every base exchange basically interchangeable. There were a few fast-food places that hadn’t been in Texas, and the better restaurants were different, but he felt more at home here than he had since he’d arrived.
Emma had been busy on the way. It seemed as if she’d picked up at least one thing from each aisle, sometimes a lot more. Plants had been something of a surprise. Not that she’d picked up some, but how many she’d chosen. Half his morning would be spent watering the suckers. And then there was the fountain. He had no desire to listen to the soft trickle of water as he went about his day. But she seemed to think it was the best thing since sliced bread, and into the cart it had gone.
He didn’t care. Really he didn’t. She was in full-on Monica mode, and that was the best thing ever. If he had his way, they’d spend all day here, him with his hands in his pockets, her going over her list and telling him the whys and wherefores of her purchases. He couldn’t wait to get her to the office supply area. There was no doubt in his mind she would want to organize him within an inch of his life. And he would happily let her.
“Inner spring mattress?”
The way she asked the question made him look up from the big display model. “I had one at my duplex. It was good.”
“Have you ever tried memory foam?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“You should try both. I’m madly in love with my memory foam. It’s like it was custom-made for me.”
“Really?”
Her enthusiasm was a sight to behold. Her brown eyes sparkled, she spoke quickly, as if she couldn’t take a chance that something might interrupt. “It’s amazing. Truly. But try an inner spring first, because any bed you try now is going to feel like heaven after that nightmare in your apartment.”
“Good point.” He wasn’t crazy about lying down in the middle of the huge store, and if the purchase wasn’t such an important one...it was the first major piece of furniture he’d be carting from base to base...he’d never have done it. But he did.
She was right about the mattress feeling awesome. He’d read that you were supposed to try out a bed the way you actually slept, and since he was a side sleeper, he did. It was awkward, because now he couldn’t help watching strangers walk by. Most of them were in civilian clothes, but within the first few minutes, he saw three pilots. They didn’t have to be in uniform for him to know. They wore the job one hundred percent of the time.
He turned over, away from Emma and the view beyond her. This time he closed his eyes, though, and concentrated on the feel beneath him.
“Okay,” he said, as he sat up a minute later. This one felt like the one back home, and he was tempted to just buy the damn thing. “Which one next?”
Emma was all too happy to be his guide. On the third mattress, he shook his head. “It feels just like the other two.”
“No, it doesn’t. This one has individually wrapped coils, and the last one had continuous coils.”
He sighed, really not getting the difference. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning, and you test it, too.”
Never one to turn away from a challenge, she went straight back to number one. She was already in place, her head on the pillow as she rested on her side, by the time he got there. He joined her on the bed, and they were eye to eye, and close enough to touch.
“Oh,” she said, blinking. “You meant test it together.”
He froze, not sure what the hell to do. “I don’t know what I meant.”
Emma laughed. “Okay, well, we’re here.” She pressed down on the mattress between them and started talking about offset coils. Like a dog with a bone, she wouldn’t stop until she got her point across.
That was bound to take a while, since he couldn’t stop thinking about how much better this would be if the mattress was set up in his apartment. If there was no piped-in music or dozens of strangers milling about. If it was just him and Emma all alone in the bed...
He had no business staring at her like this. Not when she was so tempting. When he could count her eyelashes, and lose himself in the sound of her voice.
“I see you two have narrowed down your choice,” a man said from about a foot away. Sam nearly leaped off the bed and tackled him, he was so caught off guard. “It’s a honey. Perfect for a young couple like you. This model has a great warranty, and you can get the same features, but with a dual firm selection.”
Sam rolled off the mattress, and so did Emma. He hoped he wasn’t blushing like she was.
“We’re not a couple,” she mu
rmured. “We’re just testing out different models.”
“I was hoping to try out a memory foam next,” Sam said, walking toward the other end of the display area.
“Absolutely, follow me,” the salesman said, even though he had to practically run to catch up.
Sam felt like an idiot when he turned to find Emma pushing their very full cart to join them.
“Which one do you have?” Sam asked as he helped pull the cart close.
She took him to the third one from the end. “I think this comes extralong.”
He just climbed on, not caring whether he liked it. He wanted to finish shopping, see if he could get the bed delivered today, or if he’d have to rent a trailer.
As he settled on his side, he realized she’d been right. It was a fantastic feeling, like the mattress was molding to his body, made to order.
“Don’t rush it,” she said. “Let it cradle you.”
He looked up at her, her smile approving, her short hair in spiky tendrils that seemed to frame her face so she glowed. He wanted her so badly. Had wanted her for so long. It wasn’t just the new assignment. Not transference or any of that psychological bull. This was the Emma he’d fallen for years ago. The Emma who didn’t belong to him. Never had. Never would.
He rolled over to his other side, cursing his reckless thoughts. He’d better get it together, and damn fast, because if he couldn’t then he’d have to make some excuse to send her on her way, and that would hurt like hell. She was the one bright spot in his life right now, but he could only keep her in it if he kept his distance.
It took him longer than it should have to calm down, but it was okay, because she was pleased he was taking her advice to heart.
When he finally got up, he told the salesman he could write up the order. Emma made sure every T was crossed while he called the apartment complex and made sure the maintenance guys were available to help him move the old bed out and the new one in.
There were still aisles to explore, and even he’d underestimated the amount of time a person, or at least Emma, could spend looking at containers. And buying containers. “What’s that one for?” he asked, staring at a very similar piece already in the cart.
“Your multiuse drawer.”
“You mean the junk drawer.”
“If you think of it like that, then it will get filled with junk. The organizer is to help make it easy to find your miscellaneous items.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, absolutely sure he’d end up with a junk drawer, only one with less flexibility.
“You wait and see. You’ll thank me in the end.”
He grinned at her and rested his hand on her shoulder. She was so slender and delicate it made him feel ridiculously protective. “I’m thanking you right now. You’ve been amazing. I never would have thought to measure so much stuff before we left, or to go through the boxes I had shipped so we wouldn’t duplicate efforts.”
Her smile was surprisingly shy. “I am pretty good at this stuff.”
“Pretty good?” he said, removing his hand before he was tempted to run it down her back. “You should have your own organizing show.”
“I have been offered money to help people get their stuff together.”
“You didn’t take them up on it?”
She shook her head. “I only do this for people I know well. Without understanding the human element, organizing a house can go FUBAR really fast.”
“And you know me really well.”
“’Course I do. For example, I know you’re going to just throw stuff into the multiuse drawer for about three months, until you can’t find something important, then you’ll give in, and it’ll make your life easier.”
“Three months, huh?”
“Give or take.”
Christ, he wanted to kiss her. If she wasn’t Danny’s wife...if Sam were still flying... “I’m sold,” he said, moving back to take charge of the cart. To clear his head he stared at the amazing number of items he was going to be buying today. Things for his walls, his counters, his drawers, his cupboards. Not only was this day costing him a fortune, he had no idea where most of this stuff was going to fit.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, and when he glanced up she was staring at their epic load.
“Yeah?” he said, grateful that she also realized they’d gone overboard.
She nodded somberly then looked up at him. “We’re going to need a second cart.”
5
IT WAS TWO before the perishables had been put away, the old bed had been replaced by the new, and all the shelves in the kitchen had been lined. Emma should have been in her groove, thinking three steps ahead, making sure that neither of them was wasting time. Instead, she was going over those few moments of being in bed with Sam. And how, at least before her brain had kicked into gear, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. In fact, it had felt right.
She put the remaining roll of shelf liner in the bucket she would take from room to room, the one with the cleaning supplies. She thought the shopping itself had gone really well. When they were finished, the apartment would have heart and vibrancy and would set the tone for his period of adjustment.
On the other hand, that brief stint in the middle of the store when she’d looked into his eyes had set her pulse racing so fast it still hadn’t settled back to its natural rhythm. Since then, every time she saw him or heard his voice, the infamous spark flared. She felt like a pinball machine.
Behind her, Sam approached, still catching his breath from moving mattresses. “You want something to eat?” he asked.
There it went again. How could he not see the way she jumped in her skin, the way her breath quickened? She wasn’t hungry, but that was probably because she’d been doing the fight-or-flight adrenaline shuffle most of the morning. But she should eat. He should, too. They weren’t nearly finished putting things away.
She raised her gaze and met him with all the cool she could muster. “How about a quick sandwich?”
“Sounds good,” he said. “Depending on how we do this afternoon, we can kick back tonight with a pizza and some of that merlot we picked up.” Thankfully, he turned his attention to the meat compartment in the fridge. “Ham and cheese? Turkey? Bologna?”
“Turkey please. Light on the mayo, heavy on the sprouts.”
“You got it.”
She hummed a bit as she put the dishes in the cupboard. Maybe a song would help keep her occupied so she could stop obsessing. Not so easy when sharing this tiny kitchen with Sam. She could go start on the living room, but that made her eye twitch. All the hard work, the rinsing and lining, was finished, so the rest should be a snap if she didn’t weaken.
But he moved, he breathed, he cleared his throat, and everything else faded into a blur. Something had to give, and okay, if she couldn’t completely beat him, perhaps the trick was to include him. “Do you still eat those fluffernutter things?”
The mayo container landed on the counter with a bang. “Oh, man. Why’d you have to say that? I don’t have anything but the peanut butter and I don’t want to go out again.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“It’s been ages,” he said. “But now I want one like crazy.”
“White bread, Marshmallow Fluff and peanut butter? That isn’t a legitimate food item, let alone something a grown-up would eat. I’m surprised someone hasn’t made a law banning them.”
“You wound me, Emma. You and your whole grains and your kale. Need help with those platters?”
She almost said no, but they belonged on the top shelf, which was a stretch. Sam stored the platters and she couldn’t help but notice his trim waist as he did so. And his ass. The man had a world-class backside. All the other waitresses at the Rusty Nail, where she’d worked a lifetime ago, had voted him
best butt at the Academy. Even her loyalty to Danny hadn’t let her disagree.
Using every bit of discipline she had, she aborted her moan along with the urge to touch.
* * *
EMMA HAD QUICKLY AVERTED her gaze, even as she flushed pink and pretty high on her cheeks. She shooed him away, and he wondered if it was because she was as worried about this thing between them as he was. “We’re almost done in here,” she said. “After you finish eating, we’ll tackle the living room, okay? You have to install the DVD player and set up the sound system, right?”
“Um, mind if I make our sandwiches first?”
“What?” She didn’t seem anxious to meet his gaze and waved a hand. “Oh. Right. No, go ahead.”
“Thank you.”
She turned sharply toward him, her eyes narrowed. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t want to have to finish unpacking by myself.”
Emma couldn’t seem to hold back her grin. “That’s a distinct possibility, so watch it.”
“She boldly says to the man in charge of making her sandwich.”
Immediately she stopped putting away utensils to watch him spread a light film of mayo on her whole wheat.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know exactly how you like it.”
“How on earth do you remember that?”
“Are you kidding? The way you chewed me out the time I spread mayo too close to the crust?”
“I was never that picky.”
He lifted a brow at her, and she gave him an indignant sniff, then turned back to what she was doing. But he knew she was keeping an eye on how much turkey he measured out for her.
“When I’m finished here,” she said, “I’ll start putting away your LPs.”
“You know they—”
“Go in a certain order.” She gave him an indulgent, very Emma smile that twisted him up inside. The way they knew things about each other made everything harder.
Honest to God, he couldn’t decide if the deep pleasure of being with her was worth it or not. It was like eating a whole package of Oreo cookies. So good while they were going down, and nothing but regret after.