Undeniably His

by Emery Jacobs

Leo rolls his eyes and turns away. I told him and my mom I’d been doing some marketing research online and felt like updating the lobby would be a good idea. A clean, modern lobby gives a great first impression and helps the customers feel better about leaving their car. They both bought it—at least, I assumed they did. But now that Leo’s mouthing off, I don’t know.

  “You never answered my question,” I say.

  Leo turns back and looks at me with his eyebrows drawn like he’s forgotten the conversation we had less than a minute ago.

  “Did Emmie say what she wants?” I repeat.

  “Nope, and I didn’t ask,” he snaps back.

  “Tell her I’m busy.” I bend down and grab the wrench I dropped then move back underneath the car. I’m sure she’s here to talk about our kiss and why I haven’t called or texted her, and I can’t deal with that conversation today. As much as I would like to see her, it’s just not possible.

  “Oh, hell no. You’re going out there and talking to this chick,” Leo demands as he makes his way over. He takes the tool from my hand and shoves me gently toward the door. “I’ll stay out here so you two can have some alone time.” He winks and then walks away, tossing the wrench into the pile of tools near the Buick.

  Alone time—what the fuck is he talking about? He doesn’t know anything about what happened between Emmie and me, and he’s the last person who needs to know we shared a kiss that night at Vic’s Place. He would never let me live it down. I’m sure he’s just being a dick, so I’m not going to let him bait me into admitting anything.

  “Fine.” I stomp toward the lobby and yank open the door. Emmie must have heard me, because she jumps up from the chair she was sitting in. She twists and tugs on her skirt, which is too short for her to be wearing in public. I think Miles is wrong about his sister; she doesn’t need someone to watch over her. She needs someone to dress her in clothes that fit instead of all the short skirts and tight pants she normally wears.

  My dick jerks against the restraints of my jeans as Emmie moves toward me, her long, lean legs eating up the distance between us. Her red heels click on the concrete floor with each step she takes until her body is only inches from mine. I glance at the wall directly behind her and for a second consider repeating our kiss, except today I want to press her against the wall so she can wrap those legs around my waist. I’d cup her ass and pull her into my body, soaking in the wet heat from her—

  I shake my head and huff out a breath, taking a few steps back to increase the space between us. I can’t be this close to her, because everything that is Emmie Carmichael seeps into my brain, giving me the illusion she could be mine—mine to kiss, to hold, to keep—and I know there is no way in hell this woman could ever belong to me.

  “Beau.” Her soft, husky voice drags me away from my thoughts and back to reality.

  “What can I do for you today, Ms. Carmichael?”

  “Umm… I noticed you have a few cars for sale on the north side of your lot.” She steps in closer. I nod and then walk across the room, moving behind the counter. Distance—I have to separate myself from her long, sexy legs, deep blue eyes, and the soft smell of coconut that follows her everywhere she goes.

  “See something you may be interested in?” I can’t imagine she would want to buy one of those piece-of-shit cars sitting in my yard. Sometimes when we tow in vehicles, the owners can’t afford to pay all the fees associated with picking up their car, and after a certain amount of time, the car becomes ours. So, I sell them to try to recover towing and storage fees. Occasionally, I’ll sell one for a friend or family member, but normally I don’t like to get involved in selling someone else’s car for them.

  She strolls over to the counter and leans in, resting her elbows on the countertop. She smiles and her eyes widen. Then she laughs softly, before saying, “No, I don’t want to buy a car, but I have one I’d like to sell, and I was hoping you could help me out.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand. How can I help you with selling your car?” I know where she’s going with this, but it’s not going to happen. There is no way I’m risking her brother seeing her car parked in my yard with a For Sale sign on it.

  “Well…” She drags out the word a little longer than necessary, and then she hesitates a beat before continuing. “I was wondering if you would put it out there on the lot with the other cars you’re selling.” She looks up at me. Her lips part slightly and her eyebrows lift, offering a questioning gaze.

  I shake my head. “Nope, can’t do that. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” Yes, I’m an asshole, but I’m doing everything I can to break away from her and Miles, so the last thing I need is to tie myself to her even more. I look away for a second before returning my gaze to hers.

  “I don’t understand. You have three cars on your lot for sale right now.” She pushes her elbows off the counter and stands up straight. Then she tilts her head and narrows her eyes, confusion written all over her face.

  “Those cars belong to me, and I don’t make a habit of selling cars for other people. Are you thinking of buying something new?” I should suggest trading her car in instead of selling it. Maybe she hasn’t thought about taking that route.

  She shrugs. “Haven’t really thought about it. My focus right now is selling my car.”

  “Maybe you can stick a sign on your Jeep and park it facing the street at your office. That road is pretty busy during certain times of the day. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble selling it.” I push away from the counter and lean against the wall behind me.

  “Wait.” She shakes her head. “I’m not selling my Jeep. It’s my Lexus. I mean, I’m selling my Lexus.”

  “I didn’t realize you have another car. I just assumed you were trying to get rid of the Jeep,” I say as I fold my arms across my chest. My right eye twitches and I look away. I’m lying—again—and I’m not getting any better at it. Lies, deceit… one lie leads to two and then three and four. Fuck. I wish I didn’t know about her damn Lexus. Miles told me she has a second car but didn’t go into any details about why she never drives it. I think he only mentioned it in case she happened to drive it when I was on stalking duty, so I would know which vehicle to follow. I’m not sure what happened between her and her ex-husband, but I think the Lexus parked in her garage holds a lot of the answers.

  Emmie walks around the counter and leans her shoulder against the wall so she’s facing me.

  “The reason I want to sell my Lexus is a long and tedious story I don’t want to bore you with today. I could call my dad or my brother and one of them would take care of selling the car for me.” She sucks in a deep breath and her shoulders sag slightly. “But I don’t want to depend on either of them. I want to do this myself—well, not completely by myself. I’ll need a little help from you.” She smiles and then blinks a few times before her gaze lands back on mine. “Just let me leave it here for a month, and if it doesn’t sell, I’ll have it moved and you’re off the hook.”

  She reaches for my hand, and I let her take it. I can’t ignore the warm tingles that shoot through my body when her skin meets mine. Emmie’s small fingers move slowly over my callused hand. Call me pathetic, but just her touch is such a fucking turn-on. I glance down at her. She’s beautiful, but I’ve known that for longer than I’ve known her, which presents a huge problem and is the reason she can never be mine. If she ever found out I’ve been sneaking around following her just to better my business, she would never forgive me. She would see me for the asshole I am, and she would probably have me arrested.

  Emmie’s gaze meets mine, her blue eyes begging, pleading. “Please,” she whispers.

  Fuck me. How can I say no to her? I gently remove my hand from her grip so I can think straight. As long as she’s touching me, all my thoughts bypass my brain and go straight to my dick.

  “I can’t,” I mumble, but the words are for my benefit instead of hers. I can’t put her car on my lot, because if I do, I’ll have to talk to her, se
e her, smell her, and risk kissing her again.

  I tilt my head back and squeeze my eyes closed. I take in a couple deep breaths, and when I open my eyes to look at Emmie, she’s gone. Way to go, jackass. I immediately turn around in search of her, only to find she’s walking rather quickly across the room toward the exit.

  “Did you change your mind?” I ask, moving toward her.

  “Change my mind?” She lets out a nervous laugh as she stops and looks over her shoulder. “You said no, so I’m leaving.” Emmie resumes her trek toward the door.

  “I said I wouldn’t put it on my lot, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you.”

  She stops again and spins around until she’s facing me. Her hand moves to her neck as she fidgets with her necklace.

  “What do you mean?” she asks hesitantly.

  “You said it’s a Lexus you’re trying to sell, right?” Yes, asshole, you know it’s a Lexus. A LS 460, to be exact.

  Emmie nods as I stop in front of her.

  “I have a buddy in Dallas who sells high-end used cars. I could get him to take a look at it and the two of you can maybe work something out.”

  She takes in a deep breath. “You would do that for me?” she asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

  “Yeah, but I got to get back to work right now. My friend’s name is Dave and I can give him your number, or… hold on a second.” I walk over to the filing cabinet behind the counter and open the drawer where I keep cards from other businesses. I grab Dave’s card, shut the drawer, and turn to face her. “Here’s his information. You can give him a call and schedule a time to take your car by for him to look at.”

  She takes the card from me and looks at it. Her smile vanishes.

  She shrugs, looking up at me. “Thank you, but I don’t—” She stops midsentence and lets out a breath.

  “Is there a problem?” I ask.

  “No, no problem. It’s just that…” She glances down at the card she’s holding in her hand before looking back at me. “It’s… I mean….”

  It’s the kiss. The fucking kiss. I bet she wants to talk about it, about why I haven’t called, why I haven’t texted. She’s a chick, and that’s what they want—words to go along with actions—and fuck me, but I cannot go there with her. What am I supposed to do? Let it hang here between us while she spends the next few minutes trying to force herself to bring it up? Nope. I’ll just do what I’ve been doing best lately and lie. Then maybe she’ll forget about me and the kiss and go on with her life.

  “Look, about the kiss…” I clear my throat. “The kiss between us a couple of Saturday nights ago at Vic’s Place.”

  Well, damn. I’m as bad at this as she is. I need to tell her it was a mistake, say it happened because we had both been drinking, just tell her something so she’ll leave before I kiss her again. My plan seemed so easy, so simple. I would be an asshole, like she’s probably come to expect, but after I was done with my spiel, she would see that the kiss was a mistake and she’d leave. But, now that the words have left my mouth and she’s staring into my eyes with her deep blue gaze while biting her bottom lip, I’m wishing I’d done what I always do: kept my fucking mouth shut.

  “I thought you’d forgotten about it,” Emmie mumbles, her eyes never leaving mine.

  I shake my head. “No, but we’d both been drinking that night, and….”

  “And?” she asks, rising to her toes and resting her hands on my shoulders. “It was the most beautiful kiss I’ve ever experienced,” she hums, her warm breath fanning my face.

  My dick is hard—so fucking hard. She has to leave. I can’t do this with her. I slam my eyes shut and pray to whoever will listen that she’ll walk out the door and leave me here alone with my throbbing erection.

  “Emmie.” I force out her name on a long slow breath.

  “Beau,” she whispers softly before her lips brush mine.

  “We can’t—” My words are lost as she bites my bottom lip once, twice, and on the third nip, her mouth covers mine.

  My mind is telling me to pull away, to stop the madness, but I can’t. She’s like a drug; it only takes one hit, one taste, one waft of her soft scent, and I’m screwed. I’m totally fucked. I press my lips into hers, harder, deeper. She’s searching, wanting, begging me to let her in, so that’s what I do. I grip her face with my grease-stained hands and part my lips just enough for her tongue to find mine. Holy fuck! Heat rushes through me as our kiss becomes urgent. Hard. Fast. Deep. Seconds pass, maybe minutes, but then the sound of a tool hitting the concrete in the shop jars me out of my few moments of insanity, and I quickly break away from her. Emmie’s blue eyes are wild as they search mine for an explanation of what just happened. I release my grip on her face and step back. Then I run my hand through my hair and look away. Fuck!

  “Oh my God,” she whispers, dropping her gaze toward the floor. I have no idea what she’s thinking. Does she regret kissing me? She should, because it has to stop. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Emmie mumbles as she lifts her eyes to mine.

  I’m met with flushed cheeks and a nervous smile. I want to tell her it’s okay, because in a world where I was a better man and had my shit together, we could do this—kiss and hang out, have a real relationship. I could introduce her to my family—my mom, Hannah, and even Rhys. Rhys. How would he react to me bringing a woman into his life when all he’s ever known is me? I push those thoughts out of my mind on account of none of it matters, because in the real world, we can’t. I’m too fucked up to ever have a relationship with anyone, especially someone as smart and beautiful as Emmie Carmichael. She deserves a man who can afford to spoil her and treat her like she deserves to be treated, but even more importantly, she deserves a man who hasn’t been following her around for the past few weeks and reporting her every move to her brother.

  “But you did.” Those are the only words I’m able to force out.

  She nods and a strand of her hair falls across her face. It takes every ounce of strength I have not to skim the soft skin of her face and tuck it behind her ear. I take a deep breath and look toward the door for a beat before returning my eyes to her.

  “Yes, I did,” she says as she starts fidgeting with her necklace again.

  And we’re back to choppy conversation. We both stand here in silence for longer than I’m comfortable with, but before I can come up with some lame excuse to get me out of the lobby and back into the shop, she starts talking about the kiss again.

  “I know what I’m about to say will sound cliché, but I don’t normally…” She shrugs and blows out a breath. “It’s just that I never act like this.”

  I don’t say anything, because I know what she means. She doesn’t kiss random guys—ever. I’ve seen her hanging out with her friends at bars and a few parties. She almost always approached by guys, and in the past several weeks since I’ve been watching her find her way back to the world of dating, I’ve never seen her kiss a man in a public place. At least, not until I made the mistake of getting too close. As of today, Emmie has kissed me twice, and both times I should have stopped her, but I didn’t. I didn’t for selfish reasons, because both times I wanted the kiss as much as she did.

  Obviously, she doesn’t like my silent approach, because she continues, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t make a habit of kissing men I barely know. As a matter a fact, I’ve only had a few dates with the same guy since my divorce, and we only kissed once. Nothing close to what you and I’ve shared.” She bites her bottom lip again and glances toward the only window in the lobby. Then she smooths her skirt and tucks the stray piece of hair behind her ear.

  I nod to let her know I understand, because there’s really nothing else for me to say.

  “I really need to get back to the office. Thank you for the help.” She smiles and holds up Dave’s card.

  “No problem,” I tell her as I watch her slowly make her way toward the exit. Once she reaches the door, Emmie looks over her shoulder at me. I don’t l
ook away. She smiles and hesitates before directing her gaze back to the exit. Then she pushes the door open and walks out of the building.

  13

  Beau

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this?” Leo’s voice echoes from across the shop.

  “Don’t worry about why we’re doing it. Just finish up so we can go,” I say loudly while standing in the doorway that leads to the lobby. I’ve got too much shit to do tonight to wait around for him, but unfortunately, I need his help.

  He shrugs then walks across the room to the oversized shelf that houses all the tools. Leo grabs whatever it is he needs and hurries back to the Ford he’s been working on all day.

  “I’m moving as fast as I can, but I promised Ray I would have his truck ready by ten in the morning.” Leo glances over at me. “Just give me twenty more minutes and I’ll be ready,” he says in a muffled voice as he lowers his head and continues whatever it is he’s doing under the hood of that vehicle.

  “I’ll lock up and you can go out the side door,” I holler. He lifts his arm and waves so I know he heard me. The side door locks automatically once it’s shut, so this way I don’t have to worry about his dumb ass forgetting to secure the building.

  I turn off the TV and the lights in the lobby before grabbing my keys and my vibrating phone from the counter. My eyes drop to the screen. Emmie—or rather a text from Emmie to let me know she’s home. As I shake my head, I slide my phone into the front pocket of my jeans. I seriously need to have my head examined for the string of bad decisions I’ve made over the last couple of months, and today I’m about to top it off with… shit, I don’t even know what it is I’m doing anymore.

  It’s been over a week since Emmie was here asking me to help her sell her Lexus. Since that day, she’s been on my mind nonstop. I guess there’s just something about her and our fucked-up situation that makes me worry that she’s okay.

  When she called me yesterday and spent twenty minutes explaining in a quivering voice why she could never sit behind the wheel of her Lexus again, I saw red. Her ex-husband needs his fucking ass kicked. Now I can see why her brother is so protective. If some guy treated my sister like Emmie’s ex treated her, he’d be laid up in a hospital somewhere, and I’d be in jail.