by Robyn Neeley
“Good, because it’s not for me.” He set the plate down in front of Abby.
“For me?” the redhead asked.
“I thought I could bribe you to man your stand solo while I kidnap my fling.”
Abby grabbed a fry. “Done. Take her.”
“Abby!” Emma shook her head and turned to Jason. “I can’t leave.”
“Sure you can,” Abby interjected. “It’s slow right now. If I need any help, I’ll call Bridget or Betty.”
Emma frowned. “Where do you want to take me?”
“Not far. I thought we’d enjoy the fair.”
That got a quizzical look from Emma. “You want to ride rides?”
“Maybe.” Truth be told, he never liked that activity and was a bit scared of heights. He’d, however, hang off the Empire State Building for some time with Emma.
She let out a deep sigh. “Fine.” Grabbing her purse, she turned to Abby. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Take your time,” Abby called out. “Thanks for dinner, J.”
Jason and Emma disappeared into the sea of fairgoers. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his nerves kicking in.
“So, what do you want to do first?” Emma asked.
“Do?”
“You wanted to experience the fair, didn’t you?”
“Right . . . yes . . . I don’t know.” He glanced around at the row of game booths. “I guess . . . um . . . are there any animals to feed?”
She stopped in her tracks. “You’ve never been to one before, have you?”
He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”
“Good thing I have some experience in this department.” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s start with some games. They won’t be too crowded since the demolition derby just started.”
Stepping up to a game booth, she pulled out her wallet and purchased a paper cup filled with red and blue darts.
She took one and aimed for the colorful balloons. “It’s simple. Just pretend you’re aiming at someone who is trying to expose you as a fraud and ruin your reputation.” She released the dart and it soared straight into a blue balloon. She smirked and tilted the cup toward him. “Just like that.”
Jason pulled a dart out. “Getting to the truth is all I’m after.” He aimed the dart at a pink balloon and easily popped it. He was surprisingly good, and in no time—and after purchasing a few more darts—he’d won a pink stuffed pig dressed as a pirate.
Emma sighed. “Beginner’s luck.”
“For your cat.” Jason handed her the stuffed animal.
Emma laughed and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you. I’m sure Magic will love it.” They stepped away from the games. “Are you hungry?”
“Fair food. That I haven’t experienced yet.”
“Then, let’s get some fried butter Oreos.”
“Seriously?”
“They’re amazing. Trust me. You’ll love them with fresh lemonade.”
Trust her. Jason grew quiet as Emma ordered the Oreos and drinks. Could he trust this woman with his heart? In order for that to happen, first, he’d have to convince Emma that she could trust him.
Emma handed over the fried desert, and he took a bite. It might have been the best thing he’d ever tasted. “This is awesome,” he said, thoroughly enjoying the fried, gooey cookie.
“Right? I wait every year just to have this experience.” Emma sipped on her lemonade then finished off her cookie.
“Well, I’m glad you’re having it with me,” he said and noticed her smile held a hint of shyness.
“What should we do now?” he asked.
“How about a ride? Do you like things that flip you upside down?”
“Not really.” He’d been to Six Flags as a kid and never particularly enjoyed roller coasters.
“How about the Ferris wheel then?” She pointed in the direction of the ride.
“That sounds like my speed.” Yeah, he hated heights, but didn’t Ferris wheels go slow? He convinced himself that he’d be fine.
Within minutes, they were seated in their open carriage and headed up to the dark sky. At the very top, the ride stopped. Jason glanced down below, his heart racing. “What’s happening?”
Emma sighed loudly. “The thing is so old. It’s probably broken again. We’ll no doubt have to wait while they call the fire department to rescue us.” She tapped his arm. “Good thing you didn’t deck Lance earlier.”
Jason closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening.
He felt Emma’s hand on his arm. “Jason, I’m kidding. It stops for a couple of minutes. It’ll start up again.”
“I knew that.” He opened his eyes and looked straight ahead, tightening his grip on the front bar. Now was not the time to discover Emma’s sense of humor.
“Gorgeous night,” Emma said.
“Yeah,” Jason said flatly. He’d rather be looking up at it with his two feet on the ground.
“So, where did you grow up, Jason?”
He glanced over at her, sensing she was trying to take his mind off of being up so high. “Charlotte, North Carolina.”
“And your parents never took you to a fair?”
“My dad passed away when I was six, and my mom worked a lot.” He loosened his hands. “We didn’t have a lot of money, and most of my free time was spent working part-time jobs.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad,” she offered. “Is your mother still in North Carolina?”
“No, she had a heart attack. It happened while I was in grad school.”
Emma’s hand flew to her heart. “I’m so sorry that you lost both of your parents. Do you have any siblings?”
“No, it’s just me. My best friend, Brandon, is the closest thing I have to a brother.”
“Must be lonely.”
“I have my work.”
She smiled wryly. “Right, the story.”
The ride finally started up again, taking them in a large circle two more times before it finally ended. Jason was the first to jump off the carriage, and then he offered his hand to Emma.
“You probably want to head back to your stand.” He reluctantly let go.
“Yeah,” Emma said. She pointed to the grand stand. “The derby will be letting out soon. That’s usually our busiest time.”
“Thanks for hanging out with me.”
She smiled and hugged the pig. “Thanks for the stuffed animal.”
“Anytime. I’ll see you later.” His tone was more of a question.
“See you.”
Jason watched as his summer fling disappeared into the crowd. Had he just had a breakthrough with Emma?
11
Emma ordered a blueberry iced coffee and headed to her table at the Star Lite. A few minutes later, she looked down at her watch and sighed. It was after two o’clock. Another Sunday—same disappointing outcome.
Drinking her coffee, she thought about yesterday’s events. She’d spent most of it in the Sugar Spoon stand at the fair . . . except for her time in the kissing booth and then the impromptu date with her fling later that night.
She was still embarrassed that she threw herself at Lance like she did, although she knew he’d enjoyed it. She did apologize to the firefighter later that day and invited him to be her next Batter Up bachelor on Monday night since she knew the guy that had been randomly picked was having cold feet. She laughed. It would be funny if Cindy, the guidance counselor, appeared in Lance’s batter.
Her evening with Jason had been unexpected—fun even. She couldn’t help but laugh at his obvious fear of heights. Why hadn’t he told her? She would have never suggested the Ferris wheel, although it was nice to learn more about him when she attempted to take his mind off being so high up. It saddened her that he’d lost both his parents. She couldn’t imagine her life without her mother.
She reached for her purse, stood, and grabbed the check. Since her mother and Aunt Jackie had offered to work the fairgrounds today and tomorrow, a little retail therapy sounded like a fabulous idea
to spend her free afternoon. It had been a while since she rummaged through the stores up and down Main Street. Today, she wouldn’t worry about rebuilding her savings. Besides, the fair booth this week would nearly double her weekly sales. She could afford a new blouse or pair of cute flats.
She left the diner and waited to cross the street, catching sight of Caitlin’s black BMW. It pulled up to the post office and Jason jumped out, causing Emma to step back. Terrific. Had he and the she-devil made up?
She spun around, rushed over to her car, and hopped in. Reaching up, she tilted her rearview mirror so she could watch Jason from across the street. Juvenile? Perhaps, but she didn’t want Jason and Caitlin to see her spying on them.
Emma hadn’t seen a trace of Caitlin—or her ex, come to think about it—since the movie night in the park. She’d heard through the grapevine that Michael was now working construction with his father.
She mused on how little thought she’d given Michael since his return. Only one man preoccupied her thoughts. That man came out of the post office carrying a box while Caitlin popped open the trunk. He had on the same white T-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops that he’d been wearing the day they’d argued in the Star Lite.
Adjusting her rearview mirror, she watched Jason pull out a small, black suitcase, appearing to be making room for the box. Her hand flew to her mouth. “He can’t be leaving, can he?”
The answer seemed to be yes, as the BMW sped down the street.
Why didn’t he mention it last night? Hitting reverse, she spun around and peeled out. At the very least, she needed to know what his intentions were with the story.
Who are you kidding? She wasn’t ready for Jason Levine to walk out of her life, or fly out of it as the case may be.
Thirty minutes later, she pulled her car up to the curb of departures at their regional airport, threw it in park, and jumped out.
“Miss, you can’t park here.” An attendant waved for her attention.
“I’ll only be two seconds,” she called out over her shoulder. “I promise.” Rushing through the glass doors, she ran up the escalator. “Where are you, Jason?” She glanced around in all directions, finally spotting him outside a bookstore.
Relief washed over her that she’d made it in time, followed by a swarm of butterflies. She took a deep breath. You can do this.
What was she going to do exactly? Tell him she couldn’t stop thinking about him? That even though he was writing a story that could destroy her grandmother’s legacy, all she could think about was what it would be like to kiss him? That she didn’t want him to leave . . .
“Emma?” He put the book down. His eyebrows burrowed. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Jason, I . . . um . . .” She looked around and shrugged her shoulders. “Came to say good-bye,” she offered meekly. Pathetic, Emma. Real pathetic.
Caitlin joined them, crossed her arms, and shot Emma a cool expression. “What are you doing here?”
Emma ignored her, concentrating on Jason’s beautiful blue eyes. “I just didn’t want you to leave without say—”
“Brandon!” Caitlin squealed and pushed passed Emma, nearly knocking her over. She ran over to a tall blond man carrying a large navy blue duffle bag. He immediately dropped it to his side, and she leaped in the air, latching her bronze legs around his waist. Within seconds, they were in a full-on lip lock.
“Brandon?” Emma looked at Jason. “As in, your best friend, Brandon?”
“We’re here to pick him up.” He grinned. “His plane just got in.”
Emma shook her head. Could she humiliate herself anymore around this man? “I’ve got to go. My car’s parked illegally.” She turned to leave.
“Wait.” He grabbed her arm. “You thought I was leaving, didn’t you?” His eyes danced with amusement. “You came to stop me.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She yanked it away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I only came to . . . um . . . to . . .” She grasped for an excuse. “I only came to let you know that I’ve retained a lawyer,” she blurted out.
“Who? Your ex?”
Jerk! Unable to speak, she turned and raced toward the escalators. What a colossal mistake. She should have never chased Jason to the airport.
She bolted out the glass doors and jumped in her car, departing as quickly as she’d arrived. So Jason wasn’t leaving, and he and Caitlin were never a couple. She should be happy, right?
Wrong. Emma’s heart constricted. It wasn’t Caitlin who was the obstacle. Emma’s feelings were only one-sided. Jason just wasn’t interested in her. Period.
Heading back to Buttermilk Falls, she turned up the radio, hoping the music would drown out her thoughts. She should have never shown her hand that she cared when, obviously, he didn’t feel the same way.
Her car zipped down Main Street in the direction of the Sugar Spoon. Going home wasn’t an option. The last thing she wanted was to run into Jason. Since it was Sunday, she could get a head start on the Monday cupcake special. Good plan. She’d get lost in her ingredients. Baking always made her feel better.
Caitlin’s BMW zoomed into the parking lot out of nowhere, nearly sideswiping her. One glance in the rearview mirror revealed it wasn’t her high school nemesis driving.
She threw her car in park, jumped out, and slammed her door. “What the hell are you doing? Trying to kill me?”
Jason got out. With a few quick strides, he stopped inches in front of her. “Admit it, Emma Stevens. You feel this.”
“Feel what?”
He grabbed her and before she knew what was happening, his mouth engulfed hers. She gave in completely, latching her arms around his neck, inviting his tongue to go deeper.
“Let’s go inside.” He breathed into her hair and glanced over at the Spring Curls salon. “Where we won’t have an audience.”
She giggled. “It’s Sunday. No one is over there.” Fetching her purse from the car, she pulled out her bakery keys. Jason still stood close, lacing her hair with his fingers. She took a deep breath. Was this really happening? She turned and his warm eyes and sexy dimples gave her the answer she wanted.
She fumbled with the door lock. Once unlocked, Jason pressed open the door and twirled her around, back into his arms.
There was so much she wanted to say, but for some reason her hands decided they’d rather do the talking. Who was she to stop them? She yanked his shirt up as he tackled the buttons on her blouse.
“Emma. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“More than sure.” She moved her neck so his kisses could go deeper into the groove. “So, is this your version of foreplay?”
“Hmm . . . Definitely headed there.” He paused and stroked her cheek. “You didn’t really retain a lawyer, did you?”
“No.” She ran her hands up and down his naked back, pausing at the start of his jeans.
“Emma, about the story.”
“I don’t want to talk about the story. In fact . . .” She kissed his lips. God, he tasted as good as she had fantasized. Actually, no. It was way better. “I don’t want to talk at all.”
He groaned and rubbed his hands up and down her back, unlatching her bra strap with one quick flick. “Maybe we should go to your cottage?”
She reached for his hand, leading him toward the kitchen. “Not when I have a comfortable couch we can use.” Unlike Michael did back in the day, she knew there was no way Jason would reject her office invitation.
And he didn’t.
12
Emma swung on the swing, looking out at the lake glistening in the morning sunlight. What an incredibly amazing night. She stifled a laugh. She’d finally broken in her office couch. What Michael had always refused to do, Jason was more than willing to try . . . twice, in fact.
And the night didn’t end there. After the Sugar Spoon tryst, they came back to her cottage where they’d made love again. This time, Jason had been slow and deliberate, taking his time with each kiss, touch, and stroke. Emma relished
every moment until they finally drifted off to sleep, entangled in each other’s arms.
This morning involved a lot of snuggling. Then, he dashed out to get coffee while she showered. She’d invited him to join her, but he reluctantly declined saying he had big plans for them for today.
She sighed. Last night had been, hands down, the best sex of her life, but now what? Jason lived in Miami. Her life was in Buttermilk Falls. Sure, he’d spent the last month writing remotely, but wasn’t that only because he was writing about her?
And what about the enormous elephant in room? She had banned it to stand in the corner of her mind last night, but it turned around and faced her this morning. The story. They hadn’t talked about it. Truth be told, they hadn’t done much talking and that had been fine with Emma. Eventually, though, they’d have to. Maybe she’d wait until he brought it up.
She turned to the sound of tires on gravel. Jason parked the car, jumped out, and strolled over to her. He’d changed and was now in khakis and a light blue V neck. In his hands, a container with two cups lodged into it.
“Good morning.” He sat down next to her and pushed his sunglasses onto his head.
“Yes, it is.” She took the iced java, taking a sip. Blueberry iced coffee with lots of cream and sugar. Awe. How sweet. He remembered how she liked her coffee. She bit down the urge to smile like a love-stricken teenager. “So . . .”
“So . . .” he echoed.
Emma could feel her cheeks warming. “How do you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know. It’s just I’ve never had a one-night stand before.” She tried to reel that last sentence back into her mouth. “I mean. That’s not what I think last night was. At least, I hope it wasn’t.” Oh, Lord, Emma. Just shut up.
“Well . . .” He took her hand in his, tickling it with his thumb. “I was thinking a bit last night, too.”
Emma cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, you were, were you?”
“Okay. Maybe more like this morning. We’ve got two weeks left as summer flings, right?”
Emma laughed. “I forgot about that.” Did he want to extend their one-night stand two weeks? Fourteen nights of hot sex. If that’s all he wanted, she’d take it . . . for now.