by Robyn Neeley
“So, what do summer flings normally do to close out the summer?”
“Oh, I’m glad you asked,” she teased. “This is where it all ramps up. We spend all our time together . . .” She nodded to her cottage. “A lot of time . . . alone. Think you’re up for it?” Her body started to tingle, reacting to her suggestion.
“I think I can manage. I mean, I wouldn’t want to break any summer fling rules.” He reached over, tilted her chin up, and kissed her softly. He tasted of coffee and blueberry. Awe . . . he had gotten her favorite drink for himself.
Jason suddenly broke the kiss. He stood and grabbed Emma’s hand, pulling her up. “But first, I want a do-over of our first date.”
“Now? What did you have in mind?”
He grinned. “That’s a surprise. Meet me outside in a half hour. Wear comfortable walking shoes.”
“Where are we going?”
“For a little stroll.”
They walked back up the dock, hand in hand. Once at their cottages, he pulled her in for one final kiss.
Emma ran her hands up and down his back. “You know, first dates are overrated. We could just go back to bed.”
“Tempting.” He pulled her close. “Emma Stevens, just so we’re clear, I plan on us having a repeat performance of last night, every night this week.” He winked. “And next.”
Heat traveled from her cheeks all the way down her body, stopping in the place she hoped he’d visit again soon enough. “Okay, you win. I guess I need to call Abby and tell her I won’t be in today.” She glanced over Jason’s shoulder. “Looks like we have company.”
“Hey, you must be the woman that my best friend left me stranded at the airport to chase after.”
She nodded. “My name’s Emma.”
“I’m Brandon.” He looked her up and down. “Very nice.”
The death stare Jason shot at him shut Brandon up. “See you got along just fine.” Jason pulled Emma closer to him.
“Oh yes, I did.” Brandon straightened, showing a little stomach, and Emma caught a glance of his six-pack abs.
“Hey, there’s nothing in the refrigerator. Where can I grab some muffins? Caitlin wants them.”
Emma smirked. That’s probably not all she wants. “Stop by the Sugar Spoon. You’ll take a left and then a mile down the road, a right onto Main Street. My cousin, Abby, is working. Tell her they’re for Caitlin and to give her this week’s special.” Abby would know that would be code to give her the extra fattening ones. “On the house.”
“Great.” He turned to Jason, flashing car keys. “Dude, I’m taking your rental.”
“Fine.” Jason turned to Emma. “Sorry about that. He’s actually a nice guy.”
She tore herself away from his embrace. “I guess I should get ready for our date.”
“It’s going to be a classic one.” He winked.
Emma smiled and returned to her cottage and retrieved her phone, punching the speed dial for the Sugar Spoon. “Hi, Abby.”
“Emma! Where are you? Did you decide to go to the fairgrounds today?”
“No. I’m going to take the day off.”
Clunk. The other end went silent. “Abby, are you still there?”
“Sorry. I dropped the phone. You’re doing what?”
“Taking today off.”
“Why? Is everything okay?”
She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to share. Although, if Jason’s plans included a trip into town, it was bound to get back to her cousin. That’s how gossip worked. “I’m spending today with Jason.”
A large squeal came from the other end. “Oh my, God! You slept with Jason Levine!”
“Abby! How many customers just heard you?”
“Don’t worry. Only Lester is here, and his hearing isn’t what it used to be.” Abby was referring to the retired town judge who celebrated his eightieth birthday last month. “I’m so happy for you. Was he amazing? I bet he was freaking awesome.”
Emma smiled, glancing out her window to the cottage next door. Amazing. That was an understatement. Sure, the sex at the bakery had been spontaneous, fast, and hot, but the lovemaking here had been even better. She moved to her room and flopped down on the unmade bed. “Oh, and his best friend, Brandon, is in town. He’s headed over to get some muffins for Caitlin. I told him they’re on the house.”
“Great, you get to have sex with an incredibly hot guy, and I have to slave over the stove making muffins for that wench. How is that fair?”
“Just give him what we have left over from Friday. They’ll never know. The fattening strawberry ones with the cream cheese center.
“Fine.” Her cousin sighed from the other end. “Is the best friend as handsome as Jason?”
“Oh, he’s sporting a nice six-pack.” She giggled. “I mean, he’s not my type, obviously, but yeah, the guy looks like Bradley Cooper.”
“Well, that’s just great. Every woman in this town is getting some action with hot men except me.”
“Honestly, Abby. Carter is an awesome fling.”
“Yeah, if I ever saw him.” Abby was referring to his round-the-clock work at the animal shelter. She’d been disappointed the last few days that Carter had been too busy to get together. “Hey, you are going to be here tonight, aren’t you?”
Emma shot up. Batter Up was tonight! Of course. It’s Monday night. How could she have forgotten about it? She’d promised Lance a turn. “I’ll be there by five.”
“You’re not going to bring Jason, are you?”
“No. No.” Emma pulled her hair up in a high ponytail. She couldn’t have Jason attend tonight . . . or could she? Would he expect that he should be allowed to stop by since they were sleeping together? “He definitely won’t be there.” She had to keep her lust in check and protect her bakery until they had an honest talk about the story. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Fine. Go have sex.”
“Abby! We’re not going to have sex.” At least not this morning.
Emma hit the end button and slid her feet into her comfortable boat shoes. Magic sauntered over and nudged her, his tail high. “Someone wants his back scratched.” She squatted and playfully ran her fingers through her kitty’s hair, looking up at the unmade bed. What did Jason have in store for them today?
Jason leaned against his car rental. He’d been in such a hurry to start his date that he’d been waiting outside for fifteen minutes. He’d wait another fifty for her. Emma Stevens proved last night what he’d expected all along . . . she was well worth the wait.
He grinned, thinking back to yesterday and their hot office encounter. It hadn’t been his plan when he confronted her. He turned and stared at her bedroom window.
The hell it hadn’t. He knew exactly what he was going after. It was the reason he’d grabbed the keys from Caitlin at the airport and sped back alone to Buttermilk Falls.
His heart galloped as he waited, a feeling that was beyond awesome to have again. He hadn’t thought it was possible, but the physical proof was pounding up against his chest. Now there were two things he needed to do: Tell Emma about his past and his plans for the story. He walked up to the house and picked a pink flower off its stem. First, he was going to spend the day learning everything there was to know about his fling.
Emma stepped out of her cottage all smiles. “Hi,” he greeted her. “You look beautiful.”
She coiled her ponytail around her finger. “I didn’t really do anything.”
He reached up and tucked the flower in her hair, securing it with her loose blond strands. His fingers swept over her face. “You ready.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“That’s a surprise.”
In less than five minutes, Jason pulled into the Star Lite. “Are we having breakfast?” Emma asked.
“Yes. I arranged it with Betty earlier.”
The Monday morning breakfast crowd filled the Star Lite. All eyes were on Emma and Jason.
“Good morning, you two. Your booth aw
aits.” Betty brought them over to Emma’s table.
“What are you doing?” Emma stood frozen.
Jason beamed. “Going back to the scene of the crime. Where we first met.”
Emma’s eyes started to water. “I only sit here on Sundays. I’m sorry.” She turned to walk away.
“Hey.” He reached for her hand. What significance could this table possibly have for her, and why could she only sit in it on Sundays? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s okay.” She brushed away a tear. “Really, it’s not a big deal. I just need some air.” She pulled her hand out of his and rushed outside.
Jason looked at Betty for an explanation. “What did I do?”
Betty sighed. “Emma watches the bus arrive every Sunday at 2 p.m. She thinks her father might be on it one day.”
Jason’s eyebrows burrowed. “Her father?”
Betty shrugged. “No good bum skipped town on her and her mother before she was born.”
Jason suddenly recalled his conversation with Emma on the dock about her dad. “Why does she think he’s going to come back on a bus?”
“You know, I don’t know.” She slapped her order pad down on the counter. “One thing I do know: If that bastard does come back, there are a few of us in this town ready to give him a piece of our minds.” She leaned in. “And a good ass-kicking.”
Jason smiled wryly. He didn’t doubt that the old lady could take anyone on. He said good-bye to Betty and left the Star Lite, finding Emma sitting on a nearby bench, dabbing her eyes.
“Emma.” He sat down beside her, concentrating on his next few words. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I only wanted to recreate our first meeting. Get a redo for how crappy I treated you. I thought it would be as good a place as any to get to know each other.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Emma attempted a smile. “That was sweet of you.” She reached for his hand. “Really, it was. I’m the one that should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to lose it. It’s stupid really.”
“It’s not stupid. Having hope is never stupid.”
“You know?” she asked through bright green eyes that had been washed with her tears.
“Betty just told me.” He put his arm around her and eased her into his chest. “So that’s the scene of the crime,” he said, pointing to the bus stop.
“Yep.”
“And why do you think he’s coming back?”
She sighed. “I overheard my mother talking about it with Abby’s mom, my Aunt Jackie, when I was thirteen. They thought I was sleeping, but I wasn’t. She said that one day someone very important to me would return to Buttermilk Falls, and I’d see him directly from my seat in the Star Lite. It had to be my father.”
“Did you ask your mom about it?”
“No. I’ve never brought it up. I didn’t want to cause her anymore pain.” She glanced behind them; her usual booth now had two patrons sitting at it. “Now, I just wait.”
Jason extended his arm across the top of the bench, inviting Emma to lean into it. “So, what would you do?”
“Do?”
“If you saw your father?”
She turned to him, looking like his question threw her. “I don’t know.”
“How will you know it’s him? Maybe he shows up on a Monday and is that guy over there.” He pointed over to a middle-aged man pulling a paper out of a newspaper dispenser.
She cracked a smile. “That better not be my dad. That’s Abby’s father, and my mom’s brother. Hi, Uncle Rick.” She waved. “My mother changed our last name to Stevens when my father left,” she explained.
The man waved back. “Hi, Emma. I’m running late. Will we see you for dinner Friday night?”
“I’ll be there,” she called out.
Jason chuckled at his mistake. “Okay, your dad probably won’t appear today.” He paused, not sure how she’d take the next question. “Maybe I could join you next Sunday?”
She responded by nestling into his chest. “I’d like that. Although, I don’t think you sitting next to me was in my mother’s premonition.”
After a few minutes of watching the town residents go about their daily business, Jason suggested they move on. “So, I thought we’d do a little bit of walking around. I’d like to see where you grew up.”
She sat up and raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that that will take about five minutes.”
He laughed. “We’ll go slow. Then lunch on me. Anywhere but the Star Lite.”
They began their walk along Main Street hand in hand. Jason asked Emma to share her childhood memories with him. He wanted to learn everything about her. She seemed to be enjoying the trip down memory lane, too. They passed by the corner where she had been pulled over for speeding the day after getting her driver’s license; the boutique that both she and Abby had gotten their prom dresses in; and the town’s newspaper office where she had interned her senior year. He didn’t know that she’d had an interest in journalism in high school. That they had writing in common warmed his heart.
It also didn’t go unnoticed that she never brought up Michael in any of her memories. Good sign.
Not that he was worried. He was all but certain Emma and Michael didn’t have the same kind of connection that they shared. Not after what he and Emma experienced together last night. No way. No how.
Emma led him down Main Street then turned right onto East Avenue. In front of them was a two-story school building. “Is that your school?”
“No.”
“But it says ‘Buttermilk High School.’”
“Yes, but I went to Hogwarts,” she said, not missing a beat.
“Good one, Emma Stevens.” He pulled her in close and tugged her ponytail. “At some point, we’re going to have to talk about Batter Up.”
“I thought as much.” She looked up into his eyes. “You don’t think I’ve bewitched you, do you?”
He smirked. “If you did, I’ll gladly stay under your spell.”
She grabbed his hand, leading him across the street and through a large soccer field to empty bleachers. The open space showed off the lush hills surrounding them. They climbed the short steps to the top.
“Wow, this place is beautiful,” Jason said and took a seat.
“You should see it in the fall with the change of leaves. I have so many memories of spending time on these bleachers.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
She swatted him. “Not like that. I’ve never been behind them.”
He started to stand. “We could take care of that.”
“Sit down.” She took his hand. “Let’s just enjoy the scenery.”
He gazed at her beautiful smile. That he could do. “So, were you a cheerleader?”
“No, Caitlin took care of that.” She sighed. “I didn’t make the team thanks to the captain.”
“Couldn’t you cast a spell that made her lose her voice or turned her into stone?”
“It doesn’t work that way. Although, I’d love nothing more than a bird feeder statue of Caitlin in my front yard.”
He chuckled and leaned back on the railing. It was probably time to have the conversation. “So, how does it work?”
She didn’t say a word but instead mimicked his body language, leaning back.
“Emma, we don’t have to talk about this right now if you’re not ready.”
“Well . . . Are you asking me as Jason, my summer fling who gave me the hottest night of my life, or Jason, the reporter, ready to run me out of business?”
“Hottest night of your life,” he repeated with a grin. That was a relief to hear. More than a relief to know she wasn’t pining for her ex.
She swatted his arm. “Not the point.”
He sat up and grabbed her hand. They’d done a lot of hand-holding today, but right here and now, it really mattered. He didn’t want to screw this up. “I’m not going to ruin you. I want to protect you.”
Her expression softened as she threaded her
fingers through his. “My family, we’re not witches, at least not in the way you might think. It’s not like we ride around on broomsticks and turn nosy reporters into frogs.”
“Lucky for me.”
“We just have this gift. My grandmother was the one that had it, really. I’m not sure anyone couldn’t do the Batter Up spell with the right tool.”
“Tool?”
“Let’s just say there’s something I need to use or the spell won’t work.”
“And Batter Up is the only spell you do.”
She nodded. “Yep. Just the one.”
He smiled. “Well, I hear you’re pretty good at it.”
“You’ll never know.”
“Don’t want to.”
She narrowed her eyes. “So, you’re not going to ask me if you can come tonight?”
“Nope.” He stood up and climbed down the stairs, turning back. “No interest whatsoever.”
She followed. “You’re lying.”
“No, really. I have plans of my own tonight.”
“You do?”
“Yes. First, I’m going to pop open a bottle of red wine.” He pulled her in close and stroked her hair. “Then, I’m going to draw a nice hot bubble bath for us . . . with candles—lots and lots of candles. Once you’re done matchmaking, I’ll be ready, if you’re up to it.” He paused and whispered, “Because, Emma Stevens, last night was just foreplay.”
And there were her beautiful red cheeks responding to his invitation. Screw Batter Up night. What he had planned for them would be much more fun.
13
Jason came up behind Emma, spun her around, and pushed her gently up against the Sugar Spoon counter. Earlier that night, he’d done what he’d promised. He didn’t attend Batter Up. He waited patiently at the Buttermilk Tavern while Emma did her thing.
Lance flew in with a small army around seven p.m., slammed his wallet on the bar, and bought a round of drinks for everyone in the tavern. Apparently, he approved of Emma’s prediction. Good for him. Although, Jason still wanted to punch the fireman’s lights out for kissing Emma like he did.