He allowed his imagination to take a little tour inside that dress. “Hey. It’s not your lesson day, is it? You might be a little overdressed.”
She walked around from behind his desk. “I came by to see you because I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh.”
She reached up and smacked his shoulder. “Smart-ass.”
“Okay, what’s up?” Admittedly, she always had his attention, but now she also had his curiosity. Their one-date deal was done, and she’d made it clear there would be no others. Okay by him. All right, even if it wasn’t okay, he had to admit she was right. He hardly needed the distraction, and she’d proven to be one hell of a distraction.
She moved oddly around him, like circling her prey. “Would you consider a second date?”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her in. “Why?”
She seemed to enjoy that, pressing in even closer. “I’m having second thoughts.”
This he understood. He was familiar with women who came on to him, who made it clear exactly what they wanted. Even if Emily wasn’t too convincing, it helped that he wanted to believe her. And except for the fact she was behaving out of character, almost like she was reciting a script from a porn movie, he might.
“Want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure you’ll understand.”
“Try.”
Then she surprised him by backing up and walking back to his desk to fish something out of her purse. “Let’s get some ground rules down first.”
“Rules?”
“Emily’s Rules.” She smiled. “I’d like another date.”
One more date didn’t make a relationship. He could handle that. Sure he could. “Are you asking me out on a date? Again?”
“Hang on. There’s a little more to this.” She blushed and flapped that piece of paper in the air. “I want one night with you. One night of wild, passionate sex.”
He couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”
She glanced at her list. “I’ve thought a lot about it. Do you want to see my list?”
“Try and stop me.” He stepped forward to grab the paper, but she snatched it out of his hands.
“Patience. I’ll read them off. And don’t say anything until I’m done.” She held up her index finger. “Number one—use protection. And don’t look at me like that. It’s a valid concern.” She cleared her throat. “Number two—no spending the night. Number three—no asking for a second night. And the last one is no kissing.” She put her list away and turned to study him. “Are these rules acceptable to you?”
“No kissing?”
“I like the way you kiss me, and well, I think it would be too much. The sex should cover it.”
The sex should cover it? “Is that right?” He stepped away from his desk and closed the distance between them. “Do I have any input on these rules?”
She shook her head. “Nope. This is the only way I’ll do this. Are you game?”
Was he game? The only way he could possibly not be game was if he couldn’t fog up a mirror. And yet. “Emily. This isn’t what you want.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Yeah. No, I don’t think so.” He walked back to his desk. “You’re not the type. Don’t try to be.”
“Ouch. So are you turning me down?” Funny, she appeared confused. She apparently hadn’t considered he wouldn’t want this.
Neither had he. “Not exactly.”
“I mean, don’t you want to? I thought all men wanted a one-night stand.”
“First, thanks for lumping me in with all men. Second, you’re not one-night-stand material. And besides that, the idea of a one-night stand is someone you’ll never see again. I’m your teacher.”
“So I don’t know all the correct terminology. You tell me what to call it.”
“Crazy.”
She shoved her hands on her hips. “I’m not kidding.”
“Neither am I.”
“Look, we had one date. I agreed to that. Why can’t you agree to this?”
He closed his eyes and studied the inside of his eyelids. “No. If you still want this in a few days, maybe we can revisit.”
“You make it sound like it’s some kind of transaction.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Who has a set of rules written down? I’m surprised you don’t want a notary to sign off on this. This is a transaction. Yours, apparently.”
“When you put it that way.” She frowned. “Maybe I’m overthinking this.”
“You think?” He flipped his calendar closed and sat down. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“This has nothing to do with it, but a couple of days ago I found out I’m not actually related to the Emily Parker that was the first licensed pilot in California.” The words left her in a whoosh.
“Uh-huh. That’s too bad. I’m not related to any pilots in history, either.”
She sat in the chair by his desk. “I know, you think this is silly and stupid.”
He leaned across his desk. “No, hey I—”
“I thought the connection could be something special. But it’s not a big deal. It just happened to lead me to something that I love. That I want.” She studied him. “Flying, I mean.”
“Right.”
“I still want my license. I’m not giving up.”
“Good.”
“I just also want this.” She traced her finger along the damn piece of paper like it was a road map.
But she was missing the point. He had a few years on her and he’d guess a whole hell of a lot more experience, and there was one thing he could tell for certain. Nothing between the two of them would ever be easy or light or contained by a set of rules, written down or otherwise. He had a feeling that together they’d be fiery and explosive. Two of his favorite things. But since he’d come to town, he’d been James Mcallister’s son. Not many had taken the time to get to know him, nor had he let them. Too many, Cassie and Jedd included, assumed he was a good man like his father. Of course, they’d be wrong, but that didn’t mean Stone shouldn’t try. It was what he’d been doing for the past six months.
Trying to be the kind of man his father had been. A man like Dad would have probably already found a way to smooth things over with Sarah by now. Found a way to compromise in that lawyer’s office instead of losing his temper and walking out.
Taking Emily up on this insanity, much as he wanted it, would be a dickhead move. And he wasn’t going to be that guy. Not with this girl, and not here in his father’s town.
He was going to do the right thing, dammit, even if it killed him.
“Go home, Emily.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THREE DAYS LATER, Fire Chief Jake was on his forty-eight hours on, which meant Rachel wanted company. So Emily had rented every romantic comedy she could find because tonight she wanted to laugh. She wanted to watch a girl strike out again and again with the man of her dreams but wind up with him in the end. Happily ever after. The End.
Emily had just finished telling Rachel that Stone had turned her down. She’d found the one man in America that didn’t want uncomplicated no-strings-attached sex. Not with her anyway. Rachel had cleared her throat and asked for more details, as if she hadn’t heard them all the first time.
“Don’t make me say it all over again. Please.” It had been humiliating enough to live through. She’d never thrown herself at a guy like that, just to experience a flat-out rejection. This was what she got for trying something new. Something daring.
Go home, Emily.
“You have to admit, though, you and this guy. I mean, what else can go wrong? Don’t answer that. Seriously, you may have just met the only guy in the state who would turn down a deal like that.” Rach
el reached for another chocolate chip cookie and took a bite. “Which means this is worse than I thought.”
“How could it get any worse?” It wasn’t like Stone could be Mr. Right. He was Mr. Right Now. And Mr. Right Now didn’t want to deliver the goods.
“No, I mean he must really like you.”
Emily reached for a cookie and dunked it in the milk. “Sure he does. That’s why he didn’t want to hook up with me.”
“No, it’s why he doesn’t.”
“You’re not making any sense. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones. I swear your baby is sucking out all your brain power.”
Rachel nodded, held up a finger and took a gulp of milk. “He’s trying to not be an asshole.”
“Well, he failed!” She’d worn her sexiest come-hither dress and he’d told her to go home.
“It’s a good thing. Don’t worry. He’ll come around.” Rachel flipped the TV on and slid the DVD in.
“He’d better hurry before I change my mind. I don’t want to wait. I want to get this over with!”
Rachel nearly spat out her milk. “No. You don’t. This is the fun part. The chase.”
“I don’t want a chase. I’ve got my rules, and I’m ready. And after the other night, I thought he was game. But no.” She sat back and groaned. “I don’t even know why I like him.”
“Probably because you took one look at him. And then there is the man-in-uniform thing. And the Pilots and Paws thing.”
“Yeah.” Emily stayed silent for a moment, thinking about Stone. With him, it wasn’t just one thing, like a hard body. It was the eyes, the smile, everything lined up and put together right where it should be. It was a wonder he didn’t have women lined up for miles. Then again, maybe he did. What did she know about her teacher? He sat next to her and grunted, occasionally smiled his dimpled smile and kissed her like he had a graduate degree in the sport.
Rachel, remote control in hand, pointed it at Emily. “And another thing, Em. Your rules.”
“What about them?”
“Get rid of them.”
“Absolutely not. The rules are good. Why? Is there something missing from it?” Emily resisted the urge to pull it out of her purse and see if she’d missed something vital. But no, she’d thought of everything.
“A list is for grocery shopping. I mean, I’m glad you’re changing up your old rules, but why not go for broke and throw all rules out the window?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.” Rules for dating made her feel safe. They gave order to her world. Why didn’t anyone get that?
“I guess you’re not quite ready for no rules.” Rachel pressed Play.
Within moments, the credits to When Harry Met Sally rolled across the big-screen TV.
“But if you want to step outside of your comfort zone, you need to lose the rules.”
“Next you’ll be telling me I should just do what feels good.”
“What I’d like to see you do is stop trying to control everything. Some things just have to happen, like love. Follow your heart.”
“Fine, but you sound like a greeting card commercial.”
“You’ve tried to control too much, Em. Even your anger. And your no-kissing rule? That can’t be healthy. When you see Greg tomorrow night, I want you to tell him off right in front of the entire restaurant.”
Greg had called and said he needed to see her again. It was important. He had a big request to make, and he’d sounded small and weak on the phone. She guessed things hadn’t worked out with Nika. She’d probably dumped him and found a new NFL boyfriend.
Her plans were to wait for him to beg her to come back to him and then she’d get up and tell him exactly what a jerk he’d been. “I will. I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him off.”
“He’ll never see it coming. The fool. Maybe you should let me go with you. Just to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
“No need. I’ve got this.”
“Make sure you wear the little black dress so he remembers what he left behind—what he’s never going to have again.” Rachel paused and threw Emily a significant look. “He’s never going to have it again, right?”
“You have to ask me that?”
“Just checking.”
They’d been yacking so long the movie was already at the scene in the restaurant. Sally was carrying on like she was having the best sex of her life, right across the booth from Harry.
“See that?” Rachel turned to Emily, a sly grin on her face. “I never have to fake it.”
The camera zeroed in on the wise older woman who told the waiter she wanted whatever Sally was having.
So did Emily.
* * *
THE NEXT EVENING, Emily launched Operation Make Ex-Fiancé Regret It. The operation involved thong underwear, a push-up bra and that little black dress. It involved a straightening iron to tame her wild waves into submission, which took the better part of an hour. And finally, it involved cherry red Here Come My Lips lipstick.
She’d practically worn herself out by the time six rolled around and she popped into the main house to let Grammy know she was off. “Don’t wait up.”
“What have you done to your hair?” Grammy asked from the kitchen sink. “It looks so—limp.”
“I prefer the words sleek and stylish.”
Grammy shook her head. “I happen to love your natural wave. And I haven’t seen you wear that dress since your engagement party.”
“Exactly,” Emily said, trying on her sexiest smile.
“Why are you smiling like that? You look like a shark. What’s gotten into you?”
She hadn’t told Grammy because she might not understand. Hadn’t Grammy always taught her to be kind and forgiving? Some people couldn’t help the fact their gene pool had gifted them with an extra-mean chromosome in their DNA strand. Poor souls. Some people couldn’t be helped. Just bless them and carry on.
Grammy meant well, but maybe that was how Emily had eventually wound up being a doormat.
“Nothing. I’m just going to meet an old friend for dinner and drinks.”
That was her story, and she’d stick to it. If Grammy was to find out Emily was on her way to meet Greg, she’d probably call a Pink Ladies’ intervention.
The Ladera was crowded for a Monday night, and the host said Greg had a table in the back. She followed the host. Greg stood as she approached. Oh, the look on Greg’s face. Where was her camera?
“Emily.”
Emily stopped moving. Seated next to Greg was Nika, smiling. No, this had not been part of the plan. Emily was supposed to sit through dinner with her ex-fiancé, look good and tell him about how she’d moved on with her life. Or rather, had taken steps to move on with her life. Not watch these two lovebirds sit in front of her, mocking her with their wacked-out kitchen-floor happiness.
Damn you, Greg. Emily considered turning and walking out of the restaurant, but all eyes seemed to be on her. Greg made a move to pull a chair out for her, but the host beat him to it.
“Thank you,” Emily said, pulling her dress down.
At least Nika looked matronly tonight, wearing a white tent of a dress that probably gave enough room for her bump. Unfortunately, she was glowing. “Thank you for coming.”
“Yes, thank you,” Greg added, taking Nika’s hand.
How are the hemorrhoids, Nika? Oh, never mind, one of them is sitting right next to you.
The waiter interrupted, at her side with a wineglass. “From the gentleman seated behind you.”
Emily turned to see a young man smiling in her direction. “Isn’t that nice.” She mouthed a thank you in his direction and held up the glass in a silent toast. She couldn’t drink and drive, but maybe a sip wouldn’t hurt. Especially since she wanted an entire bottle at the mome
nt.
“You look beautiful, Emily,” Nika said.
“That dress is something else,” Greg said with a sour expression.
Score one for Emily. No doubt he remembered the dress. “I haven’t worn it in a while. But to be honest, it’s no longer a good fit. Why am I here, Greg?”
“We want your forgiveness. Both Nika and I do.” He turned to Nika, who nodded. “My psychiatrist says I won’t be able to move on until you forgive me. Us.”
Great. Just great. “Okay, so you’re getting married, having a baby and you want my forgiveness? Isn’t that a little greedy?”
“Emily, you upset baby.” Nika glanced at her stomach and patted it with one hand. She sniffed and swiped at her dry eyes. Faker. “If I’m having good healthy baby, must make peace. Doctor says so. Right, honey bunches?”
Greg nodded. “What happened wasn’t right, and we know that. How can anyone’s happiness begin based on someone else’s pain?”
“I am shamed,” Ms. Waterworks said, her shoulders shaking.
Emily was about to tell her she ought to be when Greg set down his water glass and put a protective arm around Nika. “It’s okay.”
Even a waiter nearby filling water glasses pulled out a folded handkerchief and handed it to Nika. This was not going well. Couldn’t the jilted fiancée get a little sympathy in this room?
“Don’t cry,” Emily ordered. That’s not fair. I should be the one crying. I don’t have a fiancé, and I certainly don’t have a bun in the oven.
“I betray my friend,” Nika said through her sniffles. “My only American friend.”
Emily took another sip of the Chardonnay, noting the rim of the glass was now wearing some of her she-devil lipstick.
“Emily doesn’t have a hateful bone in her body. She isn’t shaming you, honey bunches,” Greg said with a moony-eyed look.
Wait till I get going, Emily wanted to say, but she took another glance at Greg. He had a helpless lovesick teenager look on his face. Had he ever looked at Emily like that? He’d often said sweet and loving things like “you’re way out of my league” and “how did I ever wind up with you?” But when it came to “I love you,” Greg often tripped over his words. Emily had thought it adorable at the time.
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