He had cheated on Carol five times already and the poor woman just wouldn't kick him to the curb. Probably because his family had a shit ton of money and she was just as shallow as he was.
I wanted to wring his scrawny little neck when he put his hand on Emily. It was a relief to see that she was as uncomfortable as ever when he had and I made the move that I had been there to make in the first place. Taking her to lunch was a way to establish her relationship with me. Especially after I had watched all the male teachers that had been directing students inside gawk at her last week when she walked into the school every morning. She had no idea how incredibly gorgeous she was and that made her even more appealing.
Seeing her standing at the front of that class was an eye opener for me. She belonged in a classroom. Fit so perfectly into it, like she was made to teach. It hurt to think she may never get the chance to do it as the actual teacher again.
I hadn't been expecting almost every boy in the class to look at me like I was a threat to their livelihood. I knew it would happen, but I didn't know I would be jealous of them. It was a little pathetic if you ask me.
I sat in my truck and found a station that wasn't playing commercials, then laid my head back and kept my eyes on the school. I didn't necessarily have to hang out in the parking lot every day, but I did. With everything so unpredictable about this case, I didn't want to risk it.
I thought of how Emily looked at me that morning when I walked out in my shirt and tie. I told her I needed to dress up for the meeting, but really, I just wanted to look nice for when I asked her to lunch.
Guess I should have held out a little longer with the jacket since she had said no.
Didn't matter. I knew the real reason she said no and it wasn't because she was already having lunch with Margie who at that very moment was climbing into her car and leaving the school.
It was because of that damn kiss last week.
I can't count the number of times I'd thought about it and wished I had never ended it. She was drunk, but she wasn't shitfaced. Maybe I could have let it go on just a minute longer.
No. It was for the best.
My phone buzzed with a text, pulling me from my thoughts. It was Gus, once again, asking if I had heard from Ash yet. I had, last night. She was checking in to make sure we had heard from Dad who was settling in up in Ireland.
Me: She's fine. Leave her alone.
Gus: Then why won't she answer her phone?
Me: Probably because Luke makes her shut if off during the day so we can't reach her.
Gus: What an asshole!
I laughed and shot a quick text to Ash in warning.
Me: Gus on the rampage. Prep Luke.
She wouldn't get it until later that night, but it should be enough of a warning. I could just see her rolling her eyes and making some kind of dorky joke about it.
She'd asked how things were with Emily and I had been completely honest.
"Awkward."
She didn't know about the kiss, but I knew she assumed something had happened out there. Especially when Emily looked breathtaking with her hair all messed up and her lips slightly swollen and pinker than normal.
"I'm sorry, Con," she'd said in her pity voice. "I can tell you like her and I wish the situation was different for the both of you."
"It doesn't matter," I'd said stiffly, like I had a million other times.
"It does. You just don't want it to."
My phone buzzed again and I readied myself for the tirade Gus would have typed, but it wasn't him.
Emily: Thank you for being so nice. Let's have lunch another day, okay?
She thought I was just being nice?
She had no idea. No idea that she was on my mind all day every day and not just for my job. No idea that every man that looked at her didn't realize he had a death wish.
But we wouldn't have lunch another day. We couldn't.
Ash was right. I didn't want it to matter.
I had a job to do and protecting her had to come before falling for her.
"Yeah, too late for that, Con," I mumbled to myself.
Chapter 8
Emily
Emily shifted back and forth on her feet nervously as she waited for Conall to pull out of the parking lot at their apartment. An officer from Oakland PD was sitting in his cruiser at the other end, but she knew he wouldn't be coming in. This was the second time that Conall had left her there alone to report back to Captain Miller, but each time he made sure that someone was watching the apartment until he returned. She asked him why he needed to go to the station to check in and he said it was 'just safer that way'. She didn't feel the need to pry.
After that day at the school last week, he hadn't been back to ask her to lunch. Hadn't even mentioned it again. It only made her more certain that he'd done it to be nice and because he felt like he was obligated. She was grateful he had because it got rid of Mark. The guy hadn't so much as looked at her again and it cut out a lot of wasted time she had previously spent hiding from him, so she was able to relax more.
She hurried to the bedroom and ripped open her duffle bag, hating herself more and more with each step. At the bottom of the bag, in a hidden pocket, was the phone Rayce had given her and made her promise to use to contact him. She hadn't called him since before the incident with Deputy Ross and since she had been with Conall, she hadn't really let it cross her mind that she needed to.
She didn't want to.
Her brother had asked her to let him know that she was safe, though, and had no idea if he knew what went down several weeks ago. The idea that he was worried about her had been the deciding factor when she contacted him in the past. She knew what it felt like to wonder and never know if he was alive or in some kind of trouble. She didn't want to be responsible for it if that's what he was going through.
It was Conall's skepticism toward her brother that had kept her from calling the most. She trusted Conall with her life and had let him plant a seed of doubt in her mind no matter how much she fought it. After these last couple weeks with Conall and hearing him occasionally talk to Ash while she was on vacation, she suddenly felt the urge to contact Rayce.
Gus had gone back to Detroit the same day Ash and Luke left. Looking at him, you would never think he was an emotional man, but when he said goodbye to his little sister and saw her tears, he looked like a man torn apart.
Emily wanted that from her brother.
She turned on the phone and accessed the phonebook. The only number stored was his cell phone and her hands shook slightly as she hit SEND.
He picked up after three rings and his voice was hard. So unlike the way Gus and Conall spoke to Aislinn.
"Emily?"
"Rayce."
A moment of silence passed before she heard relief in his voice. "Thank God you're alright. It's been weeks!"
She sighed and planted herself on the side of the bed, keeping an ear out for the front door in case Conall decided to come back for some reason.
"I haven't exactly been able to call. I'm rarely alone."
"Where are you?"
She hesitated because she knew without a doubt that Conall would kill her if she told anyone where she was, even if it was her own brother. Then again, he would kill her if he knew she was calling her brother at all.
"Rayce, I can't tell you that. I just want to get this whole thing over with. I've been scared out of my mind here."
He sighed and she heard a rustle before he spoke again. "I get it, I do. I just worry about you."
"Why?" she asked in surprise. He rarely worried about her. She thought the only reason he wanted her to check in was to make sure she was still on board with testifying.
"You're my sister."
"So? That never mattered before." Conall's words were still on her mind and she was glad for it. How many times had Rayce turned his back on her? She had to keep her head straight.
"Emily," he warned. "This isn't going to work if you don't cooperate with me."
"What's not going to work, Rayce? I'm testifying. Putting my life in danger to do so and I didn't even really see anything. I just took your word for it and put the rest of it together. You weren't concerned about my well being when you were desperate for my help."
"Yeah, well this is going to save both of us."
She shook her head, suddenly realizing that no matter what happened in their lives, Rayce would always think of Rayce first.
"If it wasn't for Deputy Ross, I would be dead. Ripley is only going to try harder, Rayce."
He grumbled something she couldn't understand and sighed, "Listen, I'm working on that, okay? I think I may be able to get inside and find out how they are locating you. I'll do my best to protect you, Em, but Ripley isn't the kind of guy you can negotiate with."
I'll do my best.
Not the same confidence Conall had shown when he promised to keep her safe.
"I have to go, Rayce. I shouldn't even call you. You're my brother and I want to help you, but…"
"Emily."
"I'll be safe here. Just be careful. I'll see you soon."
Then she hung up and swore to herself that she wasn't going to call him again. Putting herself at risk was one thing, but Conall and his family was a completely different thing.
She turned off the phone and threw it back into her bag. Then she went to the kitchen to find something to eat. Conall wouldn't be long and she didn't want him to think something was wrong so she needed to relax and forget about the sense of dread she had felt while talking to Rayce. He was her brother and she loved him, but she was starting to feel like it just wasn't enough.
***
Conall
Over three weeks of avoiding her as much as my job would let me all stretched into one huge line of tension that ran between us constantly.
I may have kept my distance, but it didn't mean I didn't look. Or mainly just stare. She was quiet, but there was a spark in her that flared every so often whenever I did something that annoyed her and believe me, I tried my best to annoy her, but the reason had changed. At first, it was to keep her at a distance. Now I just wanted to see those green eyes flicker with some kind of response and the response I got was usually worth it.
I hadn't brought up her brother again, but I didn't need to. Miller had agreed that following the kid would only help us and I got the feeling that he was having a hell of a time not asking the same questions I was. The concern had been about Stanton and getting information from him, no one gave a shit about what was going on with the witness as long as she showed up at the trial.
We had gotten into a routine. I would make breakfast, we would eat it while awkwardly carrying on a pleasant conversation, she would finish getting ready for work, we would walk out to the truck together in silence, I would drive her to work and she would make small talk, I'd wait outside of the school most days, run errands on other days with the promise that she would call me every half hour to check in and an officer patrolling around the school until I returned. Then, once work was over, I would pick her up at the front door, walk her to the truck, drive her back to the apartment, she would make dinner, we would eat with the same awkward yet pleasant conversations, then go to bed early.
Sounds boring?
God, I wish it was, but damn it if I didn't look forward to starting over every morning. It was better than hearing the shower turn on at night and listening to her get ready for bed. I would rather deal with the frustration of spending time with her than the frustration of knowing she was completely naked and imagining what it would be like if all of this was real. She wouldn't be in there alone every night that's for sure.
Weekends were brutal, but she usually stayed in her room and read a book for most of the morning, then we would do whatever else we needed to do. Separately most of the time, other times together.
It was Sunday night and another weekend was coming to a close. I could look forward to having most of the day tomorrow to myself. I wouldn't have to see her hips sway back and forth as she walked across the apartment. I wouldn't have to look at her cute pink toes tucked beside my thigh on the couch while we watched TV. I wouldn't have to listen to her hum while she cleaned or cooked.
I would have eight hours of me time… wishing like hell it was me and her time.
"Dinner is almost ready, Conall," she called from the kitchen. I was in the bathroom trying to find a way to keep the hair out of my eyes, but was having no luck whatsoever. It was getting too long. When I didn't respond, I heard her footsteps getting closer and froze when she appeared in the doorway.
She was wearing an apron that Ash insisted on sending with her when we moved in. There was lace lining the edges and for some ridiculous reason, every time she wore it, I imagined it was lacy lingerie and she wasn't wearing anything underneath it.
I may be a gentleman, but I'm still a man. And she was still the most beautiful woman I had ever had the pleasure of looking at.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly until the images went away. It helped a little, but then again, she was still standing there and my body was still humming.
She took me in and smiled. "Your hair is really long."
I sighed and looked back in the mirror, avoiding the sight of her looking at me in that way she always did. The way that somehow made her lips look fuller. Every time I looked at them, it took me back to that night she drunkenly kissed me. I had felt like a coward pushing her away, but it was that or pull her in and consume her.
"Yeah, it's bugging the hell out of me. Can't find the time for a cut."
"Oh, well I can cut it for you if you'd like."
That was a bad idea and I knew it in my bones, but my mouth obviously didn't give a damn and betrayed me. "Really? You can do that?"
She smiled and winked at me. God, did she have any idea what that did to me? Probably not. "Well, yeah. It's just a haircut. I've done it before. Come eat and we can cut it after."
Then she was gone and my head was spinning. It was just a simple haircut. Nothing intimate.
Yeah, I kept telling myself that but just thinking about her fingers in my hair and her body leaning over me made my jeans tighter and my mouth dry. You are a 32 year old man, Conall. Get a grip.
Holding her hand or putting my arm around her shoulders had been necessary while we were out in public. Simple things that complicated everything. It felt too good to touch her and it was even worse when she'd had to initiate that touch.
She'd spotted an older couple watching us in the grocery store a few nights before and took it upon herself to slip her body under my arm and plaster it against my side. To say I was stunned is an understatement and if she hadn't been quick to whisper what was going on, she would have ended up pinned to the shelves of bread behind her.
Luckily, the couple had just said hi and exchanged a few pleasantries about my dad and it wasn't until we had gotten back to the apartment that I was able to get myself under control. Now, she was going to be plastered against me again if only for a haircut. I would just have to endure it, because the thought of getting it out of my eyes was too damn appealing.
Right, that's the only reason.
I made my way to the kitchen and saw a plate already dished up and piled high with food. Emily was a damn fine cook and the thought of losing her skills in another several weeks was disappointing. I had no desire to go back to Denver and live off of take out and boxed dinners. It wasn't that I couldn't cook. Mom had made sure we knew how to cook at least a little bit and Dad was just as pushy with it, but it was time consuming and I had other uses for that time. Since Emily enjoyed it, she had taken over dinner, and I found another reason to want her desperately.
The expression on my face must have been pretty grim because when I finally focused on Emily, she looked anxious.
"Are you not going to eat it?"
I shook my head and pushed thoughts of life without her out of my mind. "No, I'm going to eat. Just thinking."
I sat across from he
r and we ate in silence for a few minutes before she spoke. "Do you have something to cut your hair or do we need to go to the store?"
"I've got some stuff in my shaving kit. Should be able to make do."
She nodded and went back to eating her food. Nothing else was said for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable like it had been for the last few weeks. It was… content. Maybe the avoiding was over and done with.
"Do you have to go in tomorrow?" I asked as I cleaned up my plate and set it aside.
She was still working on her food and nodded casually, "Yes, but it's only a half day for Mrs. Gordon again. Should be an easy day."
"Good."
"Have you talked to your dad recently?"
"Yep, just spoke with him last night, should be another week before I hear from him again. Keeping busy with my grandparents."
She nodded and stared down at her food while she ate. I watched her, not realizing she was actually aware of me watching her until it was too late and she kept glancing up at me warily. The tension started to grow and by the time we finished and the kitchen was cleaned, the thickness in the air between us was stifling. The line between pretending and reality was almost non-existent.
She went down the hall to the bathroom to set up a chair and go through my shaving kit to find what she needed. I was still in the kitchen re-drying the last already dry pan and wondered if I should back out. There wasn't much space to move around in there.
"You coming?" she called.
If only.
I took a deep breath and got my thoughts under control before I strolled down the hall as casually as I could and stopped in the doorway.
She looked up from my kit and after seeing my face, started chuckling.
"You look terrified." She faced me with the scissors in her hand and smirked. "Just sit down, Con. I know what I'm doing."
"That's not what I'm worried about," I muttered under my breath and plopped down in the chair.
"Well whatever it is, you'll just have to deal with it. I've watched you tug at your hair for weeks now and every time you huff and puff about it, my head nearly explodes."
Conned Page 13