Heart Block

by Melissa Brayden

  Chapter Eleven

  By the next afternoon, the chirping of a thunderstorm warning crawled along the bottom of Sarah’s television screen, and by eight o’clock that night, when she pulled into Emory’s driveway, a severe storm had moved into the area with several more behind it. She was lucky her cousin lived an hour east and would only catch a tad of what San Diego would get. It made her feel at least somewhat better about Grace being away from her in bad weather.

  As she killed her ignition, she could barely make out Emory’s house just a few feet in front of her in the downpour. She had a hunch the picnic was off.

  Her umbrella hadn’t done her much good that afternoon due to the gusty winds that had eventually flipped the thing inside out entirely. Deciding just to make a run for it, Sarah covered the short distance from the car to Emory’s front door in record time. She was damp, admittedly, but happy to be where she was.

  Emory answered the door almost instantly at the sound of the bell and pulled Sarah in quickly by the hand. “You’re a little wet,” she proclaimed happily, rubbing the sides of Sarah’s shoulders with vigor. “But you’re cute when you’re wet, so there’s that.” Emory stepped into her, and placed a delicate hello kiss on her lips. Instantly, Sarah recognized that familiar thrum of her heart.

  She grinned. “So I’m here.”

  “You are.” Then, seeming to snap herself out of the daze with a smile and little shake of her head, Emory gestured toward the living room. “I started a fire once the chill moved in. Why don’t you go have a seat, warm up, and dry off while I check on the food? Be right back.”

  Sarah sat in front of the beautifully sculpted fireplace, wrapping her arms around herself and enjoying the heat it put out. Her eyes widened in surprise as a friendly looking dog entered the room and licked her face in celebration. “Well, hi there.”

  The dog laid a paw on Sarah’s knee and looked up at her soulfully.

  “Okay, that’s pretty adorable.”

  “Sarah, meet Walter,” Emory said, following not far behind. At the sound of his name, Walter seemed to spring into action, turning in a circle and wagging his tail eagerly. “He already knows his name because he’s apparently the smartest dog on the planet.” He blinked back at her in total adoration. “Yes, you are.”

  “All right. You just used a doggy voice. You must really like him.”

  “Walter’s okay, aren’t you, buddy?”

  He whined softly and nuzzled close.

  “Grace will be pleased at the newly forged friendship. She’s mentioned him several times this past week and takes full credit for your union, by the way.”

  “You’ll have to bring her by so they can play. He’s pretty good with a tennis ball. Come on, Walter, dinner time for you.”

  Walter obediently bounded behind Emory into the kitchen where she put up a small pet gate for him in the laundry room. Beyond its confines, Sarah glimpsed an overly fluffy doggy bed and several brand new dog toys. Someone’s been shopping. “Sorry about your picnic plans,” she called into the kitchen. “I was looking forward to it.”

  “What are you talking about? The picnic is still happening.”

  Sarah laughed. “No way are you getting me on that beach. It’s torrential out there.”

  “Who said anything about the beach?” Emory returned to the living room with a blue and red plaid blanket, which she fluffed and spread out neatly onto the carpet. “Tada, carpet picnic. Be right back.”

  “You never cease to amaze me.”

  “I’m an amazer.”

  “And you coin new terms. Impressive.” Sarah laughed and watched her hurry back into the kitchen. “Can I help?”

  “Sure, grab the bubbly and glasses off the counter and meet me on the picnic grounds in twenty seconds with an appetite.”

  As they sat across from each other, Sarah’s eyes moved appreciatively over the plate of food she was handed. “You made all of this yourself?”

  “Guilty. Would you like the rundown?”

  “Oh, I think I need to hear the rundown.”

  “Okay, here goes. For your dining pleasure, we have pecan crusted fried chicken, tomato and bean salad with a blue cheese chive dressing, and that on the left is a warm apple tart. All the great picnic foods represented.” Emory smiled and there were those damn dimples. Sarah loved seeing the excitement she clearly took in this “excursion.” It was a side of Emory she’d only glimpsed up until that point. She wanted to reach across the blanket and pinch her adorably sexy cheek.

  “Why are you so good at everything? It’s a little frustrating. I can’t believe you made fancy fried chicken. Who even knew it could be fancy? It’s one of my favorite foods, by the way.”

  Emory seemed to sit a little taller with that information. “Really? I had no idea. I took a shot.”

  Sarah ate the meal slowly because it honestly tasted just as good as it looked.

  “So let’s talk more about what you do when you’re not playing the role of high-powered business executive. I know a little already. Cooking, running, no painting, which is a travesty. But there’s bound to be more.”

  Emory contemplated the question. “There isn’t. I work a lot. Not a ton of down time.”

  “Okay, got it. But what do you like to do? If there were all the time in the world.”

  “That’s a hard one. I like to read. I wish I had more time for that.”

  “What’s your favorite book?”

  “It’s juvenile. You’ll laugh.”

  “I will not. Tell me.”

  “Louisa May Alcott. Little Women.”

  Sarah covered her mouth. “I love that book. I must have read it seventeen times.”

  “When I read it as a kid, I used to imagine I was one of the sisters and Marmie was my mother. She would oversee my homework and tuck me into bed at night, and I can’t believe I just told you that.” Emory shook her head in wonder and stared down at her plate, her cheeks reddening.

  “I love that you just told me that.”

  “What about you? What’s yours?”

  “I like all the great romances. Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and oh, Gone With the Wind. Love that one. Then there’s the movie version. The scene when Scarlett enters the birthday party in that red gown looking anxious but defiant, I’m so right there.”

  “That is a great scene.”

  “I dressed up as her once for Halloween. I was a hit.”

  “I’m sure you were. How old were you?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  Emory laughed and Sarah reveled in the sound of it.

  “So what else do you partake in, Emory? Quail hunting, international espionage, synchronized swimming?”

  “Nope. I’m utterly boring.”

  “You’re not, and believe me, I keep waiting for the moment you are.”

  “Well, there’s plenty of time for that, right?”

  Sarah looked up from her champagne and grinned. Her tone softened noticeably. “Yeah, I guess there is.”

  Sarah loved how easy it was to talk to Emory. They’d developed a quick cadence between them that was comfortable and fun. She enjoyed the humor they shared and even appreciated their different perspectives on things. Emory knew aspects of life she never had a clue about and vice versa. It was enthralling.

  The wind picked up considerably during the meal and Sarah felt the house shake periodically from the strength of the gusts. As they cleared the dishes, she gazed out at the darkness of the angry looking surf. “Are you at all concerned about your windows?” she finally asked. “This house is made of a lot of glass.”

  “Not to worry. It’s all been reinforced many times over, a necessity for living where I do. I did tether down the patio furniture before it started to rain though. I hope I did a good enough job or you might see one of the deck chairs fly away to Oz. Other than that, the house is completely secure. Do storms scare you?”

  “Not usually. I’ve always thought they were kind of cool, but then I’ve never actually been
right on the water for one.” At that, a very loud, ominous clap of thunder struck causing Emory to jump noticeably.

  Sarah raised a speculative eyebrow. “Do they scare you?”

  “Not a chance.” Emory shrugged quickly and went about busily tidying up the kitchen. Sarah observed for a moment before moving to her and resting her hands on Emory’s waist from behind. “Fess up. Do storms freak you out?”

  Emory turned in Sarah’s arms and blew out a breath. “A little. But don’t tell anyone. A CEO who’s afraid of a little thunder could inspire a few jokes at the office.”

  “Luckily, I like it when you and I share secrets and would never jeopardize that.”

  Emory gently fluffed Sarah’s hair. “In all fairness, you should have to tell me a secret now.”

  “Is that right? That would even things out for you?”

  Emory smiled and nodded decisively. “It would.”

  “Okay. What if I told you that I was nervous?”

  “Nervous about what?” Emory took a step back to see her better.

  “Nervous about us…tonight.”

  Emory nodded, took Sarah’s hand, and kissed the back of it. “Tonight doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be, and I mean that. I just want to spend time with you, Sarah, and be with you in whatever way makes you comfortable. I have Scrabble in the closet, and I don’t want to brag, but I’m really good. We could play until two a.m. and I would have the best time in the world because it would be us, together.”

  Sarah was touched. The truth was that she hadn’t been nervous until somewhere in the midst of dinner. She knew she wanted Emory, but the logistics had her head spinning a tad. It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, and it was possible she was suffering from a little stage fright. But now, hearing the gentle tone in Emory’s voice was enough to cause a physical ache in her throat, and it was all the reassurance she needed.

  She moved into Emory’s arms and stayed there, wondering how she’d gone so long without Emory in her life. She pulled back and met Emory’s eyes with a very serious stare. “While Scrabble sounds like a blast, I think I’ll take a rain check.” A long pause. “Did you catch that? Rain…check?” At Emory’s burst of laughter and subsequent poke in the ribs, Sarah scampered away gleefully to sit by the fire, snatching up her champagne glass as she went.

  Emory refilled her own glass and joined Sarah on the floor in front of the fireplace a short time later. “Speaking of rain, I’m not sure you ever completely dried out.” She ran a hand across the back of Sarah’s damp green button up shirt. “I guess I should have offered earlier, but would you like to borrow some clothes?”

  “I’m not sure we wear the same size, but I’ll take a shirt from you if you’ve got one.”

  Emory returned from her upstairs bedroom with a Stanford sweatshirt in hand. She hadn’t hit the bottom step when a clap of thunder hit and the lights went out. Silence. “Well, that makes things a little ominous.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry, you’re safe. Head back over to the fire. All is well over here.”

  Emory made her way back to Sarah through the now darkened living room and handed her the sweatshirt. It was impossible to not watch Sarah unbutton the damp blouse she wore and let it fall loosely from her shoulders. Emory couldn’t have turned away if she’d wanted to. The firelight danced across the smooth expanse of olive skin as Sarah lifted her arms and pulled the sweatshirt over her head. The red bra Emory glimpsed and tops of full breasts just about did her in. Swallowing hard in an attempt to control her body’s visceral reaction to the sight, she excused herself into the kitchen to dig up a few candles.

  Sarah waited patiently for Emory to return, very much enjoying the warm, comfortable sweatshirt that smelled exactly like Emory did. Hugging it to her, she was already plotting a way to keep it. When Emory did return, she took a moment to light a few votive candles and place them at different spots throughout the room. Their warm, gentle glow gave the space a very romantic look and feel that Sarah simply could not let go to waste.

  “Come sit with me. Let’s watch the fire.” She reached out and took Emory’s hand, pulling her gently onto the floor and scooting herself in front, so she could rest her back against Emory’s chest. Emory’s arms wrapped around her snuggly from behind and she sighed with contentment. They sat in silence, watching the fire’s unpredictable dance and listening to the sound of the rain pelt the shingles. Sarah couldn’t imagine anywhere she’d rather be. “How’s Walter?”

  “Amazingly enough, sound asleep. I think he’s just happy not to be out in this. You should see him. He’s doing his Super Dog pose. Sleeping on his back with all four paws in the air. It’s impressive.”

  “He has so much personality. It’s a nice thing you did, taking him in. So I guess you’re going to keep him?”

  “If no one comes forward to claim him. I took a photo and had my assistant post it on a few lost dog websites as well as the homeowner’s association page. I never thought I’d be a dog owner.”

  “You’re more of a softy than you let on, you know.”

  “Don’t tell anyone.”

  “I would never. It’s kind of nice though. Seeing you branch out a bit. You’re hanging out with kids, adopting dogs, watching mindless movies.” Her tone slid into sincerity then. “One day, I hope you paint again.”

  They watched the fire.

  “Sarah, I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.”

  Emory felt noticeable tension creep into Sarah’s body, prompting her to rub back and forth with her hands across her forearms in reassurance.

  “Everything you just said is true. My life has been noticeably different since you’ve been a part of it, and it’s wonderful in a way I never could have imagined. What I need to tell you is that the more we’re together, the more I feel for you, and I don’t really see that pattern ending anytime soon, if ever, if we’re being perfectly honest. That’s a little overwhelming when I think about it. I look at you and Grace and I can see my possible future. And that’s a little overwhelming too.” She paused, as if looking for that best way to ask for what she needed to. These things didn’t come easy to her. “So, please, if you don’t see this as a very real possibility in your life, I need you to tell me.”

  She finally loosened her arms and Sarah turned around in them. “Thank you for telling me that. Like you, I don’t take these kinds of things lightly. I think there are some things to work out between us still. I don’t know the people in your world and you don’t know the people in mine, but what I’ve found in you is so surprisingly good that I want to find a way to bring those worlds together. It may not happen overnight, but I do think it can happen.” She reached out and gently stroked Emory’s cheek, breaking into an adorable smile. “Let me amend that, I want it to happen and will do everything I can to make sure it does.”

  It took a moment for the words to reach Emory’s heart, but when they did she heard a roaring in her ears that could not be attributed to the storm outside but to the soaring within her.

  Sarah kissed her then, good and kissed her, moving in until she was straddling Emory’s lap where she continued to kiss her with slow and sexy determination. For several minutes, they did nothing but kiss while powerful gusts of wind rocked the darkened windows and the movement of the fire cast large shadows on the wall next to them.

  Emory was amazed at how well they fit, as if their sole purpose on earth was to kiss each other. In one regard, that would have been enough and just fine with her, but in another she felt a fire within that more than rivaled the one just feet away. While loving the closeness of Sarah in her lap, she had to order her adventurous hands to obey and stay settled on Sarah’s waist. But she was craving more, and in just a few more moments, she wasn’t sure she would be in full control. Left with no choice, she pulled her mouth away from Sarah and somehow found her voice. It was higher than usual, but still there. “Scrabble?”

  Sarah’s eyes, now dark with desire,
met hers questioningly. “Is that what you want?”

  Emory answered honestly. “No.”

  “Me neither,” she whispered. She stroked Emory’s hair. “You may have to show me a few things.”

  “Sarah, we can wait. I want you to—”

  Emory’s answer was a kiss, a searing kiss that communicated everything she needed to know. She dipped her hands, now free and determined, beneath the sweatshirt Sarah wore and moved up the expanse of her back. She pulled her lips away and kissed up the column of Sarah’s neck, earning a soft moan of pleasure. Feeling herself moving entirely too fast but unable to help herself, Emory grasped at the hem of Sarah’s sweatshirt and pulled it quickly over Sarah’s head. The red bra that had so mercilessly tortured her earlier greeted her now, and she kissed all around its expanse. Sarah tossed her head back and squeezed Emory’s shoulders tightly in response. Emory traced the outline of the bra with her tongue, and scraped her fingernails on the material in its center.

  Sarah was dying, absolutely dying. Her heart thudded in her chest as if she’d run a mile. The sensations flying through her body were entirely new and unexpected. The insistence of her arousal made itself known as her body ached and her hips automatically began to move against Emory’s stomach. She’d never considered her breasts sensitive before, but with skilled attention, Emory was eliciting a tidal wave of response without even fully undressing her. Sarah was staggered and she was in need.

  As if reading her thoughts, Emory reached behind and unclasped Sarah’s bra, freeing her breasts and catching first one nipple and then the other in her mouth. “My God,” she murmured. At Sarah’s intake of breath, she raised her head, meeting her eyes. “Okay?”

  Sarah nodded, moving her hands into Emory’s hair, pulling her back in, encouraging her, needing her not to stop.

  In response, Emory aggressively surged forward from where they sat, carrying Sarah with her, and laid her down gently on the large flokati rug in front of the fireplace. As the rain pelted and splashed, she tenderly removed Sarah’s jeans, then looped her thumbs through the outside band of the red bikini underwear, the only thing left in her way. Sarah sat up and clasped her wrists.