Gasping for air, she pulled back and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Thank you? For what? I ruined our date.”
“But you always know what I need. I get that you got an unwelcomed surprise from work, but you came after me. And kissed me senseless,” she teased. “That’s exactly what I needed so I wouldn’t mope all weekend while you jet away to New York.”
Relief washed over his face. Mason set his hands on her hips and pulled her body into his. Resting his cheek on her hair, he said, “Thank you.” Emma pulled back to look up at him. He smiled but quickly frowned when his phone rang again.
“I have to—”
Emma silenced him with a kiss. “Go. Work. Call me when you get back. I’ll be waiting.” She got back into her car and slowly drove away, glancing up into her rearview mirror to see Mason standing in the driveway staring back at her with a hint of a smile on his face.
* * * *
Her two favorite people were at Cole’s. She pulled into her parking spot and let herself in to his house. “Honey, I’m home,” she called.
“We’re out back,” Paige hollered from the deck. “What the heck are you doing here?” she asked when Emma opened the screen door.
“Mason had to go to New York. Unexpected techno crisis.” She shrugged. “Feel like being his replacement?”
“I will if you plan on getting down and dirty,” Cole chimed in.
Emma rolled her eyes and snorted. “I thought you weren’t into sloppy seconds.”
“I bet you twenty dollars you’re gonna turn me down.”
“Ignore him, Em. He’s got a date tonight anyway. I’ll take sloppy seconds any day. Feel like going out or in?”
“Out. Let’s go see a chick flick. I want to see the new one with Sandra Bullock. Then we can go back to your place and pig out on ice cream and chips.”
“Perfect. Bye cuz.” Paige dropped a kiss on Cole’s cheek.
“Bye, stud, don’t wait up,” Emma teased.
“Ditto. However, if my date is a bust I’m gonna stop by and take pictures of you girls having a pillow fight in your underwear.”
The girls left in good spirits. “I’ll drive, Emma. Your car is safer in your driveway than in a movie theater parking lot.”
Emma didn’t want to agree or argue so she remained silent as she climbed into Paige’s passenger seat. They laughed over current Hollywood gossip during the drive to the theater. After ordering an extra-large popcorn and drink to share, they settled in the middle row and gushed over Chris Hemsworth’s abs. The movie was the perfect “happily ever after” both Paige and Emma were hoping for.
She was no longer sad about Mason having to cancel their date, but she did have a low moment during the evening when Paige, half a bottle deep into her Pinot Grigio, asked what she should do about J.T.
“I honestly don’t know. Part of me wants to move on and forget I even know who he is and that he’s dying. The other part of me thinks I’ll regret it later in life if I don’t spend some time getting to know him. I can’t possibly feel any more ambivalent than I do right now. When I’m not thinking about him, I don’t feel like a part of my life is missing. My mom did such a great job giving me all the love I ever needed growing up. By the time I realized I wanted a dad in my life, Connor had stepped in to the role. I sound cold, I know.”
“No, no you don’t. You sound very realistic. You always were. I think you get that solid head on your shoulders from your mom.”
“So what do I get from my father?”
“Blue eyes and athletic ability?”
“Yeah, hopefully that’s all.”
They stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking like schoolgirls. Too tipsy to drive, Emma crashed on Paige’s couch and dreamed about chocolate eyes and sweet kisses, wishing Mason home soon.
* * * *
The cell phone vibrated against the coffee table and rang simultaneously, waking Emma from her uncomfortable slumber. She blindly reached out for it, not wanting to open her heavy eyes. How many bottles of wine did they drink?
Running her tongue across her fuzzy teeth trying to loosen up her mouth to speak, she slid her finger across the screen and mumbled, “’Lo?”
“Emma! Where are you? Tell me you’re not in bed!” Cole’s urgent voice pounded against her ears.
“I’m on the couch. Sleeping. Leave me alone,” she grumbled.
“The couch?” he screamed. Emma pulled the phone away from her ear and would have hung up on him if he didn’t sound so scared.
“What the heck is going on, Cole?”
“Tell me you’re not home.”
“I’m not home.”
“Seriously. Please.”
“I’m not. I’m at Paige’s.” Emma sat up, even though her body told her if she didn’t lay back down she’d be tossing up the wine and pizza. “What’s the matter, Cole? Is someone hurt? My family? Mason?”
“You’re not at home, right? Tell me again you’re not home.”
“I’m not home. What the hell is going on?”
“Okay, no, no one is hurt. I’m on my way to Paige’s. Stay put.”
“What? Why—” He hung up on her. She checked the time on her cell phone. Four thirty? He had to be drunk. Now she had one more problem to worry about. Whatever was going on, Cole was taking it pretty seriously. That sobered her. A little. She pulled herself to her feet and trudged her way to the bathroom, hoping a quick rinse with mouthwash would take away the dry cotton taste in her mouth. She pulled on her pants and hooked her bra back on then went to wake Paige.
The pot of coffee had just finished brewing when Cole stormed through the front door. He ran to Emma and squeezed the stuffing out of her.
“Down boy. What has gotten in to you?” She pulled away and scowled. “God, you stink. Did you fall in a bonfire?”
“Practically. Emma, sit.” Cole led her to the couch and sat beside her. She didn’t notice they were both shaking until he grabbed her hand.
“God, Cole. If you’re about to tell me someone has died…”
“No, poptart, everyone is safe.” He stroked her cheek and sighed and looked over at Paige. “Thank God you stayed at Paige’s tonight. Your house…the duplex…caught on fire—”
“Fire?” she yelled, cringing as her vision blurred and her head swam. “How did it catch on fire? Are you burned?” She studied his face, his arms, legs, and bare feet for burns. “You are. You have burns on your legs, Cole. Tell me what happened.”
“I got home a little after one. Made myself a grilled cheese and fell asleep in my Easy-boy in front of ESPN. Next thing I know my smoke detectors are going off. Must have been going off for a while because before I could get out of my chair, Mr. Henderson from next door comes barreling in the door screaming ‘Fire! Fire.’” He rubbed his hands up and down Emma’s chilled arms, took a deep breath and choked. “I tried to get into your place but fire was coming out of every window. I knew there was no way you could get out.”
“Cole, what happened? Did you leave your stove on? Have you seen a doctor about your burns? Your cough? Did you get smoke—”
“Slow down, let me talk. No. The fire didn’t start on my side. Your place…it’s…”
“My side?” she whispered. “Did I forget to—”
“No.” He stroked her cheek again. “No, this wasn’t your fault. The investigators are still there, but it looks like arson.”
“Arson?” Paige hollered. “Are you kidding?” She sat on the other side of Emma and took hold of her other hand.
“Yeah, the fire marshal didn’t want me leaving, but I told them I knew where you were. Someone will be here pretty soon to interview you.”
“Why? I wasn’t home tonight. I obviously don’t know what’s going on.”
“I know, poptart. I know. I called your mom and Connor on my way here. I wanted them to know you’re safe. I’m sure news of this will spread like wildfire. No pun intended” He smirked. “I called Mom and Dad, Annie and Mason. The w
hole crew is covered. I didn’t give the details but said you’re safe at Paige’s. Expect the cavalry pretty soon though.”
“Okay. Wow. I…wow.” Emma sat in shock, staring straight ahead at the blank television, all signs of her hangover long gone now replaced with numbness. The knock on the door seized her from her trance.
“Sit. I’ll get it.”
As if she could move. Paige replaced his spot on the couch and hugged her tight. The familiar face at the door did not comfort her. She felt Paige’s body tense and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Detective Walker,” she said.
“Ms. Fulton.” He nodded at Paige. “Ms. Thorne,” he said softly. “I’m sorry to have to disturb you, but I need to ask you some questions. Mind if I sit?” He took the chair closest to Paige but kept his eyes firmly on Emma. “Can you tell me your whereabouts yesterday and last night?” He took out his customary cop notepad and pencil and waited patiently for Emma to begin.
“I went to work at eight and got home around two. I only worked until noon but stayed to work out.” Detective Walker scribbled something down which agitated her. Once again, she felt the sting of the proverbial hot seat.
“Did anything unusual happen at work? Any odd phone calls, hang-ups?”
Emma shook her head. “No, when I got home it was same ol’, same ol’. I played on my laptop, read a little, took a shower, and then around six I left for…” Not again. Last time she mentioned his name she inadvertently incriminated him. “A friend’s house. Plans changed so I came back home. I saw Paige at Cole’s. We decided to make a girl’s night of it. We went to the movies, picked up some pizza, and have been here since ten last night.”
“How long were you at your friend’s house?”
“Maybe a half an hour but Cole was home the entire time.” She didn’t mean to incriminate him either, but she had a feeling he’d understand.
“And the name of your friend?”
“None of your business. He had nothing to do—” She stopped when he held up a hand.
“Was it your idea or his to change plans?”
“His, but—”
“Did he seem odd, out of character—?”
“Don’t you dare!” Emma stood up and pointed her finger at the detective. “Don’t you dare try to incriminate him again. Haven’t I been through enough? J.T., my health, my car, and now my freaking apartment? Don’t you dare try to ruin my life any more than it already is!” Emma fled to the bathroom, slamming the door, and dry-heaved into the toilet.
Paige knocked gently on the door. “Em, it’s me. Can I come in?” She opened the door and crouched by Emma’s side. “Oh, sweetie.” Paige reached for a tissue and blotted Emma’s eyes. “You poor thing. You have had the most hellacious month. I can’t believe you’re still standing on your own two feet.”
“I’m not. I’m hanging over a freakin’ toilet crying my eyes out. I totally ripped your detective’s head off. I know he’s only doing his job, but I’m scared, Paige. Really scared.”
Paige sat on the edge of the tub and absently rubbed Emma’s knee. “We’re all here for you. Even Detective Walker. He thinks the car and the fire are connected. Someone is trying hurt you, and he wants to protect you.”
“No, he doesn’t want to protect me. He wants to convict someone.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Emma shook her head. “No. I can’t fathom who would want to hurt me this way. God, someone’s trying to kill me! Walker just wants to get the bad guy and doesn’t care whose feelings he hurts.” Emma held up her hand stopping Paige before she could interrupt. “And that doesn’t have to be ‘part of the job.’ To serve and protect is his job, not ‘to incriminate and destroy.’”
“Em, he hasn’t destroyed anything. You’re really sensitive right now—” This time Paige held up a hand to stop Emma. “Which is one hundred percent understandable. Bryce doesn’t want to incriminate anyone innocent and telling him you were at Mason’s isn’t going to destroy him. Besides, Mason has a pretty tight alibi being in New York.”
Emma sighed. “Yeah. I guess I overreacted. Bryce, huh?”
“Detective Walker,” Paige said, ignoring Emma’s dig, “feels bad. I can tell. Come on.” Paige stood and pulled Emma up as well. “Let’s finish the interview and then go see your place.”
It was nearly six when the motorcade of cars made its way to the burned duplex.
“Oh God,” Emma moaned. She thought she was ready for it, but the sight of her charred apartment devastated her. Cole’s half showed a lot of smoke and water damage but he’d told her the interior structure would hold. Her half, on the other hand, was completely destroyed. Meg and Connor were on either side of her, holding her steady.
“It looks like the fire started at the bottom of the stairs,” the fire marshal, Bill? Bob? Emma forgot his name, said. “Do you normally keep your sofa pushed up against the bottom of the stairs?”
“What? No. Why is it…was it over there?”
“It’s still too early to be official, but the unofficial report is that some sort of fire accelerant was used on your sofa.”
“My best guess, unofficially of course,” Detective Walker interrupted, “is that someone wanted to trap you upstairs, thinking you were home and in bed. Your car was in the driveway but doesn’t seem to be impacted by the fire.”
Emma trembled. Someone really did want to kill her. The news was too real and very surreal. She sat down at the end of her driveway and stared at her loss. Everything was gone. Her pictures, her trophies, her shoes. God, her shoes. Her diabetes equipment, insulin, medical supplies. Those could easily be replaced, but she’d have to get on that today. She was too stunned to hear the car pull up behind her and the door slam. Before she could register who or what was approaching, someone scooped her up into an embrace that said, I’ll never let go. He smelled like Mason, clean and honest. She let her body fall into his and hung on for dear life.
Her rock. He always knew exactly what she needed. Granted she’d had more hugs in the past four hours—in the past month—than ever before, but Mason’s hugs and promises—silent promises—made her feel safe. Her family and her friends hugged her because it was part of the package, what families do. But Mason hugged her because he wanted to.
He was there to protect.
His body stiffened slightly when Detective Walker came by. “Tucker,” he nodded.
“I have an alibi,” he half-joked.
“No doubt you do,” Walker said and turned to Emma. “I’m assuming you have a place to stay—”
“She’s staying with me,” Meg, Paige, and Mason said at the same time.
Detective Walker smiled at the crew. “No doubt.” He spoke in a lower voice to Emma. “I have your cell number and will keep you abreast of anything I hear. When you’re settled, let me know where you’re staying so I can put a few extra patrols out. Until then, stay safe. Don’t go anywhere alone.” He called over his shoulder, “Tucker. Mr. and Mrs. McKay.” He turned to Paige and drawled, “Miss Thorne,” before walking away.
Despite the acrid air, the death threat, and a raging headache, Emma laughed. “Paigey, he’s got it so bad for you.” Paige blushed and ducked her head.
Mason still had his arm possessively around her waist and spoke softly to Connor and Meg, “I’ll let you know when she’s settled.” Emma avoided the questioning eyes of her mother and the smirk Paige didn’t try to hide.
Apparently the decision was made. Making no argument out of the matter, she slipped out of Mason’s arms to give her mother and Connor a hug and kiss. “Thank you for the offer. I’ll probably swing by later on and grab some things, borrow a few clothes.” The tears swelled up.
“Oh sweetie, whatever you want, it’s yours. Go to Mason’s and rest. When you’re feeling better, we’ll go out shopping for whatever you need. We’ll take care of you.” Meg regarded Mason. “We all love you.” She smiled and hugged Mason as well.
Chapter 12
Mason held
her hand as he drove them to his house. The silence was a welcoming relief after the barrage of questions from the fire marshal and police and the constant flow of “Are you okay? What can I do for you?” from her family.
He turned onto the long, rutted dirt driveway. Enormous maple oak trees dwarfed the driveway, blocking most of the sun. The trees thinned as they neared the house, opening up to the sky above. The tiny cottage stood welcoming her with its simple beauty. The grounds weren’t landscaped by a professional, but by Mother Nature herself. Wildflowers blanketed the earth, stretching down to the small pond in the backyard. Such a welcome relief after the charred ruins of her apartment.
This time there was no déjà` vu as she entered his house. Slipping out of her do me now silver Prada’s, currently her only pair of shoes, she followed Mason to his room and obediently slid in between the sheets. His body curled behind hers as they lay in spoon form and drifted off to sleep.
It could have been hours or days later, Emma wasn’t sure which, when her eyes finally had the energy to open. The room was dark, but Emma could see the sun pushing its way through the crack in the drapes. Rolling over in the strange, comfortable bed, she checked the nightstand for a clock. Five. She slept soundlessly for nearly five hours. Stretching her arms above her head and pointing her toes, she let out a soft yawn. Unfortunately the sheets next to her were cool. She had no idea how long Mason slept with her; all she remembered was feeling the warmth of his body and falling asleep in his arms.
Emma brushed her hair out of her eyes and scowled. Something stunk. She sniffed the pillow, then her hair. Yup. It was her. Sliding out from the cool sheets, she went into Mason’s bathroom and turned on the shower. While she waited for the water to warm up, she undressed and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Eeek. No wonder Mason got up and left.
Stepping into the shower, she simply stood and willed the water to wash away the strain of the past month. She washed her hair and was dismayed to find no conditioner; her hair would be impossible to comb without it. And there was no pink disposable razor in the shower either. Stubbly legs were not an option.
False Hope (McKay-Tucker Men Book 2) Page 13