His head turned to her when he caught her standing there, his eyes looking bright, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips. Then he completely ignored her and went back to his speech.
A staff meeting. He had called a staff meeting. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he hadn't told her about it. He hadn't asked her to attend.
She stood there in fuming silence for the duration of the meeting, her headache turning into a full blown migraine as she got more and more tense as each moment passed. It hadn't exactly escaped her notice that in front of her employees he seemed calm, collected, knowledgeable, and authoritative without seeming intimidating.
She must have missed the meat and potatoes of the conversation because all he was talking about was the acquisition not effecting their employment or their hours, assuring them that it was actually for the best because with EM Corp came a phenomenal benefits package and yadda yadda yadda. A spiel he had certainly given a dozen times before. How much of it was actually true?
He clapped is hands together suddenly, making her jump. “Alright, well, I think that about covers the basics. I will keep everyone up to date about changes before they happen. And you can always come to me if you have any questions.”
Everyone got up, looking relieved. Happy even, as they trailed passed her. Traitors. She had a staff full of traitors, falling hook line and sinker for the big city promises. And judging by the dreamy look in Meggie's eyes, falling for James' sickening charm as well.
Emily lowered her eyes at Meggie as she passed and Meggie had the good sense to smother her smile and rush by.
Alone, the silence drug on for an uncomfortable moment. Devon stood behind the desk for a moment before sensing the explosive energy between his two bosses and wisely ran down the hallway to the kitchen.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Emily asked, her voice deceptively quiet.
James tilted his head at her. “Having a staff meeting,” he said, shrugging. “I needed to introduce myself formally to everyone. Set their minds at ease.”
Emily reached out and put her coffee cup on the window sill before she decided to fling it across the room at his head. “I know you own this place now and everything,” she started, her voice venomous. “but I am still management. I am supposed to be the one organizing and informing staff of meetings. You are undermining my authority by not even having the decency to let me continue doing my job. For god's sake,” she said, getting louder. “you didn't even fucking tell me about this!”
James smiled, a slow, amused smile. “It was last minute. I got up early and caught everyone before they started their work for the day. I figured that no one is getting up in town and coming in for breakfast at six a.m after how late everyone was at the school last night.”
“Regardless,” Emily said, biting the insides of her cheeks. “I should have been informed.”
“Well that's the thing,” James said, looking dangerously close to laughing. “I knocked on your door this morning when I first got the idea. Before,” he said firmly. “I talked to any employees.”
He had? She had absolutely no recollection of that.
At her confused look, he smiled wider, bringing a hand up and rubbing his cheek, trying to mask his amusement. “Yeah... I talked to you about it through the door. And...”
Emily felt her stomach twist painfully, making her worry that she might genuinely throw up. Her poor, poor alcohol weakened stomach. What the hell had she said?
“And you told me that if I didn't get the fuck away from your door that you were going to go to the kitchen, grab a really dull knife, and castrate me with it.”
Emily almost laughed. It was good to know that even half-conscious, still drunk Emily had some of her conscious, sober sass. “Fine,” she said, shaking her head and reaching for her cup. She was going to need gallons of coffee to get through the day. “Whatever.” She turned to walk away and he called her back. She turned slowly, an eyebrow arching. “What?”
James stifled his smile. She was fuming. He should have seen that coming, but it honestly hadn't occurred to him how pissed she would be about a staff meeting. “I have some things for you,” he said, stooping and grabbing some items off the floor.
Emily felt her headache pounding worse, making her nauseated. Were those... her shoes? How had he gotten her shoes? She hadn't even stopped to consider the idea that she took someone to bed the night before. Had she gone up to his room? How the hell else would be have her shoes? Oh, god. And those were her gloves. Then he extended his hand, opening his fist and there in his palm was one of her earrings. Jesus Christ. She never got so drunk that she didn't remember a hook up. That was so beyond acceptable that she felt an unfamiliar rush of shame overtake her.
She stepped forward, snatching the earring out of his hand. “Didn't think I was too far gone for that, huh?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
James heard her voice waver, sounding almost close to tears. He looked into her eyes, big and worried. It hit him then. He was standing there with various items of her clothing. And she had been practically black-out drunk the night before. Oh, the poor thing. And, Christ, what a low opinion she really had of him. He stepped forward, reaching for her face and watching her flinch away. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and comforting. “whatever you think happened last night, it didn't.”
She wanted to believe him. She really did. But she also knew how flirty she got with a few drinks in her. And she liked sex. She was free about her sexuality. It seemed completely plausible that she had suggested they go back to his room. “Yeah,” she said, sounding defeated even to herself. “sure.”
“Emily,” he said, shocking her with the use of her first name. His head dipped lower and his blue eyes found her lighter ones. “we did not have sex. Not that I wouldn't have loved that. And I know how hot you found my whole vampire vibe and wanted to do it in my coffin,” he laughed.
Oh, good god.
“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling. “apparently you've never had sex in a coffin before. But anyway... you weren't exactly in a place where you were able to make that kind of decision. I walked you back to your room and helped you pull your zipper down. I didn't even get to see any of your tasty bits.”
He wasn't lying, she realized with a rush of relief. “Then how...” she said, gesturing toward her gloves and shoes.
“Yes, well,” he said, smirking. “apparently alcohol makes your clothes fall off. You just kept discarding things as we walked across the street. After telling Sheriff Aiden that you feel nothing when you kiss me.”
Emily felt her cheeks redden. Aiden was a good guy. Took all her shenanigans with a grain of salt thanks to his big city life before moving to Stars Landing. But he was an authority figure. And she really respected him. Declaring things like that to him was way more than a little humiliating. “Great,” she said, shaking her head. “I think I owe him an explanation now.”
“He's a grown man, Emily,” James said, shrugging a shoulder. “I'm sure he's seen a woman drunk before.”
He was right. Aiden had probably just laughed it off. Everyone was drunk last night. Someone else was bound to make a bigger fool of themselves than she had. She looked up at James, relaxed and nonchalant. As much as she hated to admit it, she owed him. “Hey,” she started, wanting to get the words out fast so she could flee. “thanks for...”
“Stop,” he said, shaking his head, handing her her gloves. “you don't need to thank me for walking you home for god's sake. I mean... I can't blame you for wanting to spend time in my company. I'm fantastic.”
“And so humble,” she said, rolling her eyes. She looked up, seeing the kind eyes, seeing the amusement, knowing that behind all the flirting and the humor was someone who was actually really intelligent, someone kind and good.
And she realized with a blinding, uncomfortable clarity that she was really into him. Not just attracted to him. It wasn't just an itch she wanted to scratch anymore. She l
iked him. As a person. As more than just a hot body and cool sense of style.
She friggen liked him.
As if she didn't have enough stuff to worry about. That was just great. Wonderful.
“What's that look for?” James asked, his brows drawing together. There was a momentary glimpse of some kind of softness, quickly replaced with exasperation.
“Nothing,” Emily said, moving back toward the door. “It's nothing.”
And that was what she tried to keep convincing herself of all day. It was nothing. No big deal. She was just hungover and weak and thankful that he hadn't screwed her drunk brains out. That was the only possible explanation for her thinking she might actually like him.
Meggie, feeling guilty for her traitorous behavior, cooked her up a massive omelet, hashbrowns, and a short stack of pancakes. Lena showed up late with her delivery, huge dark sunglasses blocking her eyes from the light, moving slowly like every motion hurt. Clearly she was suffering the effects of the Widow Makers too. Poor Lena didn't even have the years of experience with them that Emily did. She practically threw a plastic container full of various danishes at Meggie, mumbling something about a slow death, and shuffling back out.
Emily held her glass of water to her forehead. “Maude better not show her face in town today,” she said, making her fourth cup of coffee of the morning. “I think there would be pitchforks and angry villagers.”
Meggie laughed, flipping a long row of pancakes. “I learned my lesson about the lethal-ness of Maude's drinks my first time here for the Christmas festivities. I've never been fall down drunk from a hot toddie before.”
“If I recall correctly,” Emily added, sinking into her coffee cup. “there was also eggnog and hot buttered rum involved.”
“Augh,” Meggie said, grimacing, holding her belly. “don't remind me.”
The door swung open and Meggie's smile changed. She didn't need to turn around. “You,” she accused, her back to him. “how the hell are you still standing? You should be in bed nursing a hangover to end all hangovers.”
James laughed, walking over and grabbing a danish. “I don't get hangovers. Never have.”
“Oh, you can just go straight to hell,” Emily grumbled. All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep for three days straight. While getting fluids in an IV.
James laughed, looking down at her. She really did look like she was suffering, her eyes small and puffy, wearing those god-awful clothes. He had been out on the front porch, watching as the townspeople slowly emerged, walking very much like zombies, most with a bit of the last night's makeup still clinging to their skin. Everyone either had on blackout sunglasses or were shielding their eyes from the harsh morning sun. It was more than a little funny to see an entire town suffering from hangovers.
“Well,” he said, shifting his feet a bit. “I guess this as good a time as any to tell you...” he started.
“Tell us what?” Meggie asked, turning and giving him her full attention, pancakes be damned.
“I have to head out for a bit,” he said, replaying the phone call from his brother a few hours ago. The man never slept. Who made business calls at five a.m.? But apparently there was some kind of issue with an acquisition. The owner was a particularly annoying breed of pain in the ass and Elliott didn't have the patience to deal with him. Also, he was due to have a baby in a few weeks. There was no way he was leaving his wife alone to go travel, no matter how much money the deal was worth. So of course James was called away to deal with it. Just when things were starting to get interesting in Stars Landing.
“Okay,” Meggie said, smiling. “we'll see you in a few hours.”
“No,” James said, shaking his head. “I mean... I have to head out of town for a few days. Weeks, maybe.”
“Oh,” Meggie said, looking crestfallen. “I hope everything is alright,” she covered, sounding concerned.
“Everything is fine. My brother just needs me to deal with a business thing. I'll be back before you know it.”
Emily tried to ignore the stab of disappointment she felt at his announcement. She would absolutely not miss him. No way in hell.
“When are you leaving?” she asked, looking up at him, pretending she wasn't trying to memorize how good he looked in the morning light.
“Pretty much immediately,” he said, shrugging. “I'll pay up the room for the next month so the inn wont lose the money. We can get back on schedule once I get back. Talk about designs and all that.”
He sounded sad, she realized with a start. He actually sounded upset about leaving. “Okay,” she said, standing up. “I'll come and help you with your bags,” she announced and moved toward the door before she could think better of it.
James walked around the room, grabbing leftover items and stuffing them into the closest bags. Emily walked around stripping the bed, grabbing the bathroom towels, and throwing everything into a big pile on the floor.
James sent her an odd look and she shrugged. “Force of habit,” she said. “I used to be a maid here.”
James ran a hand across the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I don't think I ever changed sheets before in my life.”
“Not even as a kid?”
“No... my mom kinda spoiled me. And when she died, Elliott took care of that kinda thing.”
She couldn't imagine sophisticated Elliott doing something as menial as washing sheets. But there must have been a time when they couldn't afford the luxury of a housekeeper. A fact that made James and Elliott Michaels seem a lot more human to her. “College?” James sent her a raised brow look that had her scrunching her face up in disgust. “Ew.”
“I mean my roommate's girlfriend would occasionally change them. I guess she got grossed out after a while. And I generally live in hotels now.”
“Seriously?” Emily asked, looking uncomprehending. “Why don't you have a place?”
James shrugged. “I'm on the road a lot. It kinda seemed silly to buy a place I would barely stay in once every two months.”
Emily looked down at her feet for a second. “Don't you want a place to go back to occasionally that's full of your stuff though?”
James took a deep breath, finally looking at her. “Yeah,” he admitted, surprising himself. He did want that. For perhaps the first time in his life. He had always enjoyed being on the go. Getting to see new states and towns. Getting to stay in fancy hotels or cozy inns. Being able to fly off at a moment's notice to some tropical island. But it suddenly seemed lacking. Empty. What did he have to show for his life but some memories? Endless hotel room receipts?
Emily was biting into her lip, her eyes big and glassy. He stepped closer, reaching out and putting a hand to her cheek. “Don't be sad for me, darlin',” he said, rubbing her soft skin. “I just need to find my place. Then maybe I can put down some roots finally.” He looked down at her for a second, tired, achy, hungover... and she was still the most gorgeous woman he had laid eyes on. “Fuck it,” he mumbled, lowering his lips to hers in a kiss he felt creep its way into his soul.
Emily's arms went up and around his neck, pulling him down toward her and pushing into his body. His lips were hungry on hers. Passionate. Full of some untold longing that made her feel almost teary-eyed. She felt the slow, sinking feeling spread from the contact, moving up and down, leaving her feeling suspended. Like she was floating. Or drowning. Completely immersed in it. And him.
James' arms went around her hips, holding her tightly against him. They were clinging to each other, like if they let go, they would both sink, like they needed to hold on for dear life.
Emily whimpered into his mouth, his tongue slipping between her lips to find hers. Begging for things they both wanted but were afraid to admit. Afraid that it would mean more than it ever had before. Afraid that there would be no going back.
His lips broke from hers, moving across her cheek and down her neck. Emily's hands reached up and fisted in his hair, holding him against t
he dip where her collarbone met her neck, letting her head fall back and give him more access.
The desire was a pulsating, palpable thing, making her skin feel like it was vibrating.
Why was she fighting it? She wanted him. God, how she wanted him. More than she could remember wanting anyone. “Take me to the bed,” she groaned as his teeth sank into her neck.
James bit harder, his arms around her hips pulling upward, picking her up off her feet and walking toward the bed. He twisted their bodies until his back was at the mattress and threw them backward, Emily landing on his chest with a strangled laugh.
Emily braced her arms on the sides of his head, leaning down and taking his lips in hers again. His hands trailed upward, slipping under the material of her sweater and stroking the skin up and down her back, making her arch into his searching hands like a cat. His fingers pushed into the sore muscles of her shoulders, making her moan, pulling her lips from his and resting her forehead against his.
“You like that?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured, eyes closed, her brows rested on his.
“So if I stop...” he said, his tone teasing.
“Remember that castration threat?” she asked and he laughed.
His fingers went about their massage. Emily shifted, slipping lower and resting her head in the crook of his neck. She took a deep breath, inhaling his unusual clean, leather smell, having a vague flash of telling him he smelled like a new car the night before.
She just wanted to stay like that forever. Silent. Not fighting. Or even talking. Just enjoying the feel of each other. His heartbeat was slow and steady against her chest, his breath warm on her hair. There was desire underneath it all, her thighs were pressed tightly together to ease the need and his cock was pressing into her belly. But the comfort overpowered those drives. The feeling that it was right. That it was what she had been waiting for. A safe place to land. Hands that knew what she needed without words. The slow, sensual exploration.
What The Heart Knows Page 7