She headed back into the house, washed her hands in the bathroom, then returned to the kitchen. Emma looked up at her from where she was slicing mushrooms, then turned her attention back to her task. Daina felt a certain sadness steal over her. She’d only just begun thinking that Emma might be gay. She’d been watching her closely and thought that she was reading things correctly. But she couldn’t be sure and it was messing with her head.
And then she had to laugh at herself, because really, what was she thinking? If Emma wasn’t a lesbian, then she was off-limits. And if she was, she would still be off-limits if she wasn’t single or, get this, she wasn’t even interested in Daina. The thought caused her to snort out loud at her foolishness.
Emma glanced over at her. “What?”
Daina blinked. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “I—nothing.” She shook her head. Idiot, she reprimanded herself.
Emma was still looking at her.
“Do you want wine with dinner?” Daina asked brightly.
“Sure,” Emma replied.
“Red?”
“Red is fine.”
Daina rose to her feet to retrieve the wine and remove herself from Emma’s scrutiny.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
At eleven thirty that night, Emma closed the book she was reading. Straightening in the armchair, she told Daina she was going to check that the doors were locked and the alarms set.
“You know,” Daina said thoughtfully, looking up from her guitar when Emma returned, “a prison disguised as a holiday resort is still a prison.”
It could have been construed as an ignorant thing to say, but Emma only nodded.
“I know,” she said quietly, “but try not to think of it that way.”
Daina shrugged. “It just crosses my mind once in a while.”
“Well, it’s probably a good thing that it does, but I can understand how it can kind of spoil the fun.”
Daina nodded and idly plucked a run of notes. Emma’s understanding was never expected and was therefore more surprising and pleasing as a result.
“Will you be all right?” Emma asked gently.
Daina was casual in her response, though Emma’s concern never failed to move her. She nodded, a single, downward jerk. “You know it,” she said simply, then raised her eyebrows. “Do you want me to put this aside?” she asked, making a gesture to indicate the guitar.
“No. Never. It’s fine.”
Never. It struck Daina that that was a rather odd thing to say. And yet, singularly beautiful. She eyed Emma steadily, then asked, “Are you all right?”
Emma smiled, more with her eyes than with her mouth. “Yes.” The smile broadened momentarily. “Thank you.” Then, “Goodnight, Daina.”
“Goodnight, Emma.”
Daina felt that small wave of sadness wash over her once more, but with a shake of her head quickly dispelled it and turned back to her music. She sat up for about an hour longer, working on the bridge in her song until she was finally satisfied, and returned her guitar to its case.
As she made her way down the hall to her own room she wondered what sort of fears or insecurities plagued Emma. Not that she’d been given any indication that Emma was so plagued. Emma was very good at keeping herself to herself. If she had any emotional baggage, she likely kept hers safely stowed out of sight in an overhead compartment somewhere, rarely taking it down or allowing anyone to see it. This was in stark contrast to those who would regularly assault you with theirs, whether they knew you or not. Daina had met her fair share of that type.
Readying herself for bed, she knew she wasn’t going to get an answer to her question tonight, possibly not ever. She sighed, the soft, guttural purr sounding at the back of her throat. Because really, who am I? I’m nobody, just some chick she was hired to protect. Get over yourself, Buchanan.
She slipped beneath the covers, emptying her mind of any more questions. Still, it was awhile before she was able to fall asleep.
She was brutally awakened from a sound sleep by the piercing warble of an alarm going off in the house. She bolted upright and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Her heart kicked into high gear and she felt her whole body engulfed in that sickening, prickly feeling of fear bordering on terror. But while her body was screaming Run! her brain was telling her to sit tight, just hang on a second.
It wasn’t a smoke alarm, she knew that. She’d been present when Michaels had run through the alerts. And this particular one meant that someone had managed to gain entry to the house, or was currently in the process of it. But if that was the case, what had happened to the two other alarms that should have sounded, first the gate alarm, if it was breached, and second, the yard alarm, which was keyed to anything entering the yard that weighed over fifty pounds?
Horribly indecisive, aware on some level that she was shaking, and that only a handful of seconds had passed, she quickly crossed her room and slipped into the attached bathroom, closing the door behind her. She froze in the pitch-black, eyes widened enormously, dumbly rooted to the tiny area of floor she occupied. The alarm continued its almost deafening trill.
“Daina!” It was Emma, loud and clear over the sound of the alarm. The light in her bedroom came on. Her paralysis broke.
“Here!” she yelled out, and pulled the door open.
Bathed in the room’s light, wearing boxers and a T-shirt, Emma had her gun in hand, muzzle pointing at the ceiling. Daina had never been so happy to see anyone. Emma’s eyes flooded with relief at the sight of her. She put her left hand out. Daina took one step toward her, trembling.
The look of relief on Emma’s face was replaced with one of concern and sympathy. She caught Daina’s hand and brought her in. She put her mouth close to her ear, speaking over the alarm.
“It’s okay, it was a false alarm, a short, I think.” She leaned back to look into Daina’s eyes. “Are you okay? My God, you’re shaking like a leaf.”
A false alarm. A short. Of course. Fuck. Had it been the real thing, she probably would have held together just fine. But this anticlimactic conclusion robbed her completely of fortitude. Between one breath and the next, Daina fell apart. She didn’t even try to fight back the tears; she’d had enough, it was too much.
Emma’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, hey now, come here,” she said, and gently pulled Daina into her. She wrapped an arm around Daina’s shaking shoulders.
Daina cried silently into the space between Emma’s neck and shoulder. She didn’t put her arms around her, just grasped the edges of Emma’s T-shirt and held tight. Soon she felt herself calming. The tears continued to flow, but the urgency of the moment was leaving her. She shuddered and a shaky breath escaped her.
Emma pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Daina’s as she said, “I have to go take care of that damn alarm, okay? Come here, sit on the bed.” Emma stretched across to the dresser, then leaned in with a couple of Kleenex. “I’ll be right back, okay? I promise.”
When Emma returned, she was carrying the phone and was practically yelling into it. “No, the override isn’t working, I tried it! Shut it off on your end! What?” And then she was yelling: “NO! YOUR END! SHUT IT DOWN!”
And mercifully, when Daina thought her nerves had just about had it, the alarm was silenced. Emma switched the phone off, placed both it and the gun on the bed, and sat down beside her.
“Are you all right?” She placed her hand on Daina’s still trembling shoulder.
“Yeah,” Daina managed to whisper. “Just scared the shit out of me.”
“I know, me too. I’m sorry. I got here as fast as I could.”
Daina breathed in shakily, raised her eyes to Emma’s. “It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe not, but I still feel bad.” Emma squeezed her shoulder lightly.
Daina nodded, tried to smile, but failed. She lowered her head and for several moments they sat like that, both in shorts and T-shirts, not saying a word, while she attempted to regain her scattered self.
And
then the phone rang, making them both jump.
They looked at each other with strained smiles, and at that moment a gulf that had existed between them was bridged. Daina felt it immediately, and knew that Emma felt it too, for she reached to pick up the phone with her left hand, while her right arm she wrapped around Daina’s shoulders once more. Daina leaned into her as she answered the phone.
A voice on the other end, indecipherable.
“Yes, we’re okay.”
A pause, as the voice spoke again.
“Yes, I understand the procedure, that’s fine.” Emma paused, then continued patiently, “No, I told you, I tried the override, it didn’t work.”
Another pause.
“No, everything else seems to be working. It was just the one.”
As Emma continued her conversation with what Daina assumed to be the security company, she reflected that she had never really felt safe with anyone before, other than her parents. But with Emma, what had started out as little more than a vague awareness was now a very real, very tangible feeling. Emma, with her cool head, her sharp instincts, her quiet strength; yes, Daina felt safe with her. She’d known it from the beginning. The gun wasn’t even a consideration. This woman seated next to her, with her arm around her, speaking in that mellow, mildly hypnotic voice, this was her safety. To hell with everything else right now.
“Okay, that’s fine, send whoever,” Emma was saying. “I’ll be up.” She disconnected.
“What?” Daina asked, lifting her chin the tiniest bit so she could see Emma’s profile.
“Well, the cops are on their way; they should get here first, followed by a couple of techs to fix the problem. Considering it’s the house alarm, it’s a pretty big problem.”
Daina suddenly shivered within the circle of Emma’s arm.
“You’re cold,” Emma said gently, worriedly, drawing back ever so slightly.
“I think it’s more nerves than anything.” Daina straightened and felt Emma remove her arm.
“Well, I told them I’d wait up, we don’t both have to.”
“I think I’d like to wait up with you, if that’s okay.” Daina was more than a little unwilling to be alone at the moment.
Emma smiled. “Yes, of course, it’s fine.”
Daina stood, grateful her trembling had ceased. “I think I’m going to, uh…” She pointed toward the bathroom.
Emma smiled once more. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll be in the living room.”
Daina watched her leave. Closing the bathroom door softly behind her, she leaned heavily against it. She sighed. And the thought and feeling that rose within her, she didn’t even try to ignore or dispel: Christ, I think I’m falling in love with her.
***
Emma was sitting on the sofa, now wearing an oversized sweatshirt, with a folded fleece blanket in her lap. On the coffee table, along with the gun and the phone, sat two glasses of red wine. It was the same wine they’d shared over dinner. Daina smiled slightly and met Emma’s look of gentle concern.
“I thought we could both use it,” Emma told her, “all things considered.”
“You thought right,” Daina said ruefully. “Though a cigarette might’ve been my first choice.”
Emma cocked her head. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I had to quit, as of a week and a half ago.” She made her way around the coffee table and sat on the end of the sofa opposite Emma.
“Cold turkey?”
“The coldest.”
“How’s it going?”
Daina shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve felt like I really want one, like I need one. So I guess it’s going well.” She glanced at the blanket and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you gonna hog that all to yourself?”
“Well, I was,” Emma returned easily, “but since you showed up…” She grinned, rose, and draped it around Daina’s back and shoulders.
Enveloped in cozy softness, Daina grasped the edges and pulled it a little closer as Emma sat back down.
“Very nice,” Daina said quietly. “Thank you.”
“I turned the air-conditioning down as well, in case the cold takes over where your nerves leave off.”
Daina was touched by Emma’s continual thoughtfulness. She reached for her wineglass. Emma did the same. There were no words spoken, no attempt at a toast, no forced levity at a time when it would have been badly out of place. They drank their wine and sat quietly, Daina comfortable with the silence, Emma seeming to be, as well. There was something Daina wanted to say, but she was still far too rattled by what had happened to even attempt bringing it up. She needed to be calm and clear in her mind first, because what was troubling her needed to be addressed. But not hastily, nor in anger. And so they drank their wine and sat in silence.
The phone rang. Emma answered it, spoke briefly, then disconnected.
“Well, they’re here; they’re on their way in.” She returned the phone and her half-empty wineglass to the coffee table. “I’m going to go out and speak to the officers. Did you want to join me?”
“No,” Daina said, with a slight shake of her head. She didn’t want to be around anyone else at the moment and felt no need to explain that. If she was required, they could come to her.
Emma was gone for the better part of an hour. During that time, Daina settled herself more comfortably on the sofa, lifting her feet off the floor and hugging her knees to her chest. She sipped at her wine and listened to the voices and footfalls carrying from the back hall and basement. She supposed she should be taking an interest, should involve herself in some way, but she tended to subscribe to the too-many-cooks-in-the-kitchen line of thought. She was confident Emma would tell her anything she needed to know.
By the time Emma finally rejoined her, after seeing the techs out (the cops had come and gone long ago), it was almost three in the morning. She perched on the far arm of the sofa.
“All fixed?” Daina asked.
“For now.” Emma reached for her wineglass, took a sip. “They’re coming back later this morning to run a full diagnostic. But it’s working now. And that’s what matters.”
Daina nodded and hugged her knees closer. She inhaled deeply, held it a moment, before releasing her breath slowly, never once taking her eyes off Emma. “We need to talk,” she said quietly.
“Okay.” Emma’s voice was calm, level. She lowered herself down to the sofa proper so she was facing Daina, her legs crossed, back straight. She returned Daina’s look unwaveringly.
Daina caught her lower lip between her teeth. She swallowed. So softly she was almost whispering, she said, “That was bad, Emma. That was very bad.”
And Emma, just as softly, said, “I know, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared for that and I should have been. I’m sorry.”
Daina wasn’t the least bit surprised that Emma knew what she was referring to. What surprised her was that Emma was willing to accept complete responsibility for the incident.
“Emma, no, I don’t want you to apologize. I’m not blaming you; I don’t want you blaming yourself. You might as well blame me, because I sure as hell didn’t think of it. We both should have thought of it and had some kind of plan. Because that—” And here Daina made a sound that was supposed to be a bit of a laugh, but was too shaky to even come close, “—that was bad.”
She took a swallow of her wine, to steady herself.
Emma regarded her calmly, then nodded slowly. “You’re right, you’re completely right.” She shook her head, dropped her eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” When she looked up, she met Daina’s eyes and said, “I should be blaming you.”
Daina’s mouth dropped open in stunned surprise. A second later, she saw Emma’s mouth twitching humorously. Her jaw dropped even further, even as she felt herself starting to grin. “Oh, my God, you are so bad,” she breathed, attempting to sound outraged, but failing completely.
“We’ll think of a plan,” Emma assured her. “We can do it right now, if you want. I’m
up for it.”
“So am I.”
For another hour they brainstormed over a contingency plan in the event that a true threat should occur. And when they were done, and both were satisfied with what they had come up with, Daina glanced at her empty wineglass and decided she didn’t want any more. She placed it on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around her knees once more. “So now what?” she asked quietly.
Emma shrugged. “Bedtime, I guess,” she replied, just as quietly.
“Oh.” Daina shook her head. “No, I can’t,” she said in a small voice. She hated the way she sounded, hated the obvious weakness, but was unable to deny it.
Emma didn’t seem in the least surprised or troubled. “Okay,” she said easily. She stood, reached for their wineglasses. “Just give me a minute, all right?”
Emma left the room and Daina stared fixedly at the fibers of the blanket covering her knees. She heard Emma go into the kitchen, then down the hall. A few minutes later she heard her returning, this time turning off lights as she came. And when she reached the living room, she made a shooing motion with her hand.
“Scootch over,” she said in a mild, matter-of-fact way.
Daina moved forward to the edge of the sofa. And then she watched, with something almost like wonder, as Emma sat, then stretched herself out behind her.
“Now, come here.” Still in that matter-of-fact voice. “And bring the blanket.”
Daina knew now what Emma had in mind, and she could feel the little butterfly of fear in her chest quieting. Emma was up on one elbow and Daina lay down on her side beside her. The sofa and the blanket were big enough for two in this arrangement. Emma spread the blanket over them both. Daina rested her head on the plush sofa cushion.
“Okay?” Emma’s voice was a soft vibration against her back.
“Yes.” Daina’s own voice was little more than a whisper.
She hadn’t the slightest idea how Emma had known what she’d needed. But she’d known. It was uncanny, but overwhelmingly soothing at the same time.
“Now, I don’t want this to become a habit,” Emma spoke softly into her ear. “You’re a big girl, you should be able to sleep on your own.”
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