They ended up talking for hours that night before finally giving in to the need to get some sleep.
That evening started a pattern that continued every night while Brant was away. Emma spoke to him a few times during the day on business matters but at night, it was all personal. They shared their earliest memories all the way up to the present. There was also a point each evening when their words turned teasing and sexual. Emma had never had phone sex, but when Brant asked her to touch herself and imagine it was his big hands sliding through her slick folds, she hadn’t been able to resist. Their calls always ended with a release for them both. Somehow it felt like she was falling for him even harder during these regular nightly phone calls. When they were finally together again in person, she didn’t think she would be able to resist ripping his clothes off regardless of where they were. God, she was so ready to have him back home.
Chapter Twenty-two
Brant was barely holding on by a thread. The physical toll from a combination of stress and sexual frustration was making it difficult to function, let alone not blow up at the smallest setback. He had been back in town for just a few days and already it was a few too many. Alexia had been waiting at the door when he’d gotten home and she’d done her best to remind him that he had once loved her. He needed to resolve things with her before he could move forward with Emma.
Emma was doing her part to make things damned difficult on him, although he knew it wasn’t her fault. Since he had returned to Myrtle Beach, she looked better than he could remember, smelled better, and on those occasions when gravity brought them close enough to touch, she felt fucking amazing. He had been forced to lie to her and tell her that he had come down with a bug while he was away, that it probably wasn’t anything serious, but he didn’t want to risk giving her his sore throat. She had assured him that she was willing to risk it, but he had held firm. Somehow, it just didn’t feel right to him to touch her, without having the situation with Alexia resolved. He had never been a man to string a woman along and this whole situation felt wrong to him. But he knew Alexia was fragile and the last thing he wanted was to send her spiraling backward.
After two days, though, the excuses were starting to wear thin, and every time he kept her at arm’s length, he almost choked on the hurt in her eyes. He couldn’t even blame her. At this point, he’d be damned skeptical, too. Oh, let’s see, ex-fiancée living with you, sudden business trip where you didn’t come home when you could have and now doing the Texas Two-Step every time she comes too close. Yeah, nothing remotely unusual about any of that. He found it hard to believe she was still speaking to him, much less still had the desire for anything more personal.
He knew he had brought this all on himself. Instead of using the distance between them to his advantage while he was away, what did he do? He called her every night and talked for hours with her about stuff he had never told anyone. Emma now knew more about him than his own family. And he couldn’t deny that he had fallen impossibly in love with her on those nightly phone calls. They made unspoken promises to each other as they poured their souls out and then what? He came back into town and acted like it had never happened. But he just didn’t know any other way to handle it. So he had buried himself in work, making things seem busier than they actually were. Add then the faked illness and here he was two days later trying to figure a way out of the shitstorm called his life.
Brant hadn’t realized that he had been pacing in front of his desk until Emma burst into his office and wrapped herself around him. Instinctively, he embraced her, rocking back on his heels as the force of her momentum moved him. Suddenly, his frustration, fueled by a healthy amount of lust, caused the short fuse on his temper to ignite. He pushed Emma away from him, growling, “Damn it, Emma, can I please have one day at work without getting mauled? I can’t do this with you right now!”
She jerked back from him as if he had slapped her. She even touched her face with a shaking hand, looking up at him in bewilderment. He reached for her just as she turned and raced out the door. A tendril of hair slipped through his fingers before she was gone, the outer door slamming behind her.
“Holy fuck.” He pushed a trembling hand through his hair, cursing his lack of control. None of this was her fault and he had done nothing but heap abuse on her. He went back to his chair and sank down wearily. He would give her some time today because he knew he was the last person she wanted to see right now. He was tired of living in limbo. Alexia had thrown him for a serious curve, but it was Emma he wanted. He should have never let things get to this point. He’d talk to Alexia tonight. He would offer to find her a hotel, but that was it. He was ashamed that he had let something he now recognized as simple nostalgia almost ruin his future with Emma. He realized that his confusion was more panic than anything. He had been falling in love with Emma and Alexia had given him the perfect excuse to step back before he risked his heart again. The only problem was that it had been too late. Emma already owned his heart and he hoped that she would still want it after he told her everything.
By late afternoon, Brant had finished his last conference call of the day. When he heard a sound outside his closed door, he looked up eagerly, hoping it was Emma. She hadn’t returned to the office after his asshole move that morning and he was worried about her. He had already left her several messages, but the calls were going straight to voice mail. Instead of Emma, Mark and Ava stood in his doorway. Privacy appeared to have taken a flying leap at Danvers lately. He frowned at Mark, wanting to make his disapproval of any social association with his sister known. “What’s up?” he asked.
Ava cleared her throat to get his attention. “We just wanted to see if you wanted to grab a drink?” Before he could answer, Jason and Claire stepped into his now crowded office. Since office hours were officially over for the day, the head of Danvers and his wife were holding hands. Brant felt a pang that he was powerless to control. He needed to find Emma.
He started to clear his desk to do just that.
Claire stepped forward. “Brant, how is Emma doing? I guess it’s too soon to know any type of arrangements yet, but we want to do something for her. All of us would like to be there for her.”
Brant dropped the papers he was holding, looking at Claire in confusion. “What are you talking about? Arrangements for what?”
Jason stepped forward and put his arm around his wife. “Didn’t Emma talk to you when she left today?”
“Er . . . we talked some this morning. She went home, though, hours ago.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate as to why. “What’s going on?”
“Beth came to my office and said that she had run into Emma in the lobby and that she was hysterical. Her sister . . .”
When Claire stopped, Jason stepped in for her. “I believe her sister has passed away. Beth insisted on taking her to the airport and helping her get a flight home. She tried to go with her, but there was only one seat available. We were all concerned and want to make sure that she arrived home safely.”
“Oh my God!” Brant surged to his feet. “I didn’t know. She came in here this morning and hugged me, but I thought . . . fuck . . . no . . . no . . . no! She needed me and I practically threw her out. NO!” His chest was tight, his heart was racing and there wasn’t enough air in the room. He had never felt anything like this before. The concerned and shocked faces before him were starting to spin out of focus.
“Brant!” He vaguely heard Ava’s voice before she was beside him. Before he knew it, he was sitting in his chair with his head between his legs. “Easy, slow breaths. Slow and steady.” For what felt like hours, he focused on getting his breathing back under control. The heart attack that he’d thought he was having was looking more like his first panic attack. He had to get himself under control. This wasn’t about him; it was about Emma. He had already let her down in the worst way imaginable today. It was time to find her.
Everyone gave him a wary look as he got unsteadily to his feet. “Mark, I need to go to Flori
da right now. . . .”
Without any questions, Mark pulled out his phone and they heard him instruct his pilot to fuel the jet. “You’re all set. He was already staying near the airport, since I was planning to head out later tonight. He’ll change his flight plan and be ready when you arrive. My car is downstairs. Ava and I will drop you.”
Brant assured Jason and Claire that he would be in touch and followed Mark and Ava out. His head was reeling, but his usual sense of organization was kicking in. If he could just stay focused on the task of getting to Emma and block out the emotion, he could make it. If he stopped to think back on what he had done to her when she had come to him today, it would be all over.
He would fall apart and be useless to her. I’m coming, baby, I’m coming.
Emma had no idea how she had made it through the flight and the taxi ride to her parents’ home. There had been no chance of being stopped by security or dogs this time, as she had nothing but her purse and the clothes on her back. Robyn . . . Oh my God, Robyn. It couldn’t be true. When she walked in the door, her parents, Robyn and Boston would all be sitting there laughing and so relieved. It was just a misunderstanding. Some awful trick someone had played on them. In the part of her mind still capable of rational thought, she knew that no one would ever play this type of horrible joke on her family—she needed to believe that there was some hope, though. It was all that had kept her going since the call. She had fallen apart when her father told her the news. She had sat at her desk for a few moments before rushing to Brant. She had needed him to hold her, to tell her that everything was okay. When he had thrust her away from him and yelled at her, she had crawled into her shell and gone into survival mode.
Thank goodness for Beth. Without her, she would have driven herself to the airport and she was in no condition to do that. She vaguely remembered Beth arguing and pleading with the airline to let her have a seat on the plane. It didn’t happen, though, and Emma was on her own. She had made it, though. She had broken all records for speed getting home to her family. Except now why was she standing at the front door, afraid to go in? Because if you go in, then it’s real. Instead of opening the door, she dropped to the steps, needing just another moment. When the door opened behind her, she looked over in surprise as Boston lowered himself to the step beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder and murmured, “It’s true, isn’t it?”
He let out a breath that sounded more like a sob and said, “Yeah, she’s gone, Em.”
“What happened? Dad said that she drowned. How is that possible? Robyn could swim like a fish.”
“She was surfing a new break with some of her friends. From what we’ve been told, the surf was pretty brutal and she wiped out over some coral. Her leash was tangled. She had taken a big hit to her head and they think she was too disoriented to free herself.”
Emma could tell by the shaking of Boston’s body against hers that he was crying. She turned and put her arms around him, burying her face against his big shoulders. They stayed that way until their father found them sometime later.
“Emmie, Boston, come on in. It’s too hot to stay out here.” Emma stood, looking at the strongest man she had ever known. He was pale, his normally tanned skin having taken on a sallow cast. He ruffled her hair as he usually did, but the gesture was more automatic than affectionate. He was a man operating on fumes, doing what he needed to do to survive.
She hugged him before asking, “Where is Mom?”
“She’s in bed. I had to call Doc Janice out to give her something. She just completely lost it when we got the call. Maybe you could go up and check on her. She’s calm now but just staring at the walls. I don’t know what to do, where to start. Your uncle is handling the arrangements, but we need to go see Robyn. I don’t know if your mother is able.”
Boston, looking more sober than she had ever seen him, stepped up to lead their dad to the living room while Emma walked with a heavy heart toward her parents’ room.
As her father had indicated, her mother was under the covers but instead of sleeping, she appeared to be staring at the wall. Emma sat next to her on the bed. “Mom?” Her mother gave her a blank look, leading her to wonder if perhaps she had been overmedicated.
“Mom, it’s Em.”
The glassy look seemed to leave as her mother said, “I believe I know who you are, honey. You know about your sister.”
Emma nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“I tried to talk her out of going,” her mother continued. “I just had a bad feeling about the trip. I know all you kids are great swimmers; your father and I made sure of that. I never worried about any of you being in the water. But I was nervous about Robyn surfing somewhere new. She knew the waters here like the back of her hand. She got it in her head that she wanted to start training somewhere more challenging. Some of her friends were encouraging her to enter the Wave Masters tournament. She felt like she needed more experience before the competition.”
Emma pulled back the bed covers and crawled in next to her mother while she continued to talk. They wrapped their arms around each other and the tears came in a torrent. Emma found herself wondering if there would ever be a time again when the house would be filled with laughter. The sorrow hung heavily over them like a black cloud.
Chapter Twenty-three
At nine the next morning, Brant could no longer hold off on going to Emma’s house. Despite his objections, Mark and Ava had insisted on accompanying him on the flight to Florida and to the hotel afterward. It was a little difficult to throw a man off his own plane, so he had been forced to settle for company that he hadn’t really wanted. It was late by the time they landed in Pensacola and he had been reluctant to drop in on Emma and her family on the off chance that they were sleeping. Instead, Mark had ushered them to a waiting car at the airport and then to a local beachfront resort. Apparently, Ava and Mark had decided between them that Brant needed some moral support. What he actually needed was a good kick in the ass for the way he had fucked up his life so completely. He was pretty sure that Emma would be happy to provide him with that should she ever speak to him again after the way he had treated her.
He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Had there ever been a worse time to completely lose it with someone? Of course, he had had no way of knowing that she had suffered such a tragic loss, but it didn’t excuse him for taking his frustrations out on her. She had done nothing but take her cues from him. He had called her every night he had been out of town, and their conversations almost always had some kind of intimate content. He hadn’t just been checking in on things at the office. In fact, their evening talks hadn’t related to business at all, and they both knew it.
He had called Alexia from the airport and done what he should have done from the beginning. He had told her that he loved Emma. He had asked that she make other arrangements for somewhere to stay immediately. He ended the call by apologizing for letting things get as far as they had. True, they hadn’t had sex or anything approaching a physical relationship, but he had let things coast between them as he struggled to accept the depth of his feelings for Emma. He was at fault for creating this whole mess the minute he had allowed Alexia to stay with him. He had no idea if Alexia planned to return to Carter, but hoped she would give herself time to find out who she was and what she really wanted without a man making her decisions.
He picked up the keys that Mark had dropped off a few moments ago. Mark thought it would be wise to have a car in case Emma wasn’t comfortable with him staying. What the other man had meant, of course, was that he thought she would kick Brant out on sight.
Brant had to smile when he made it to the parking area and found the rental car. Mark had just said that it was a silver sedan with his name on it. He hadn’t questioned how that was possible until he saw the silver Mercedes sitting in the first parking space with a sign across the windshield that said BRANT STONE. Leave it to Mark to rent a Mercedes. Luckily, the hotel was also on Santa Rosa Island where Emma’s pa
rents lived, so after taking a moment to familiarize himself with his surroundings, he was on his way. The drive took less than five minutes. No doubt Mark had planned it that way.
He pulled into the driveway at the Davis house just as Boston walked through the side yard, holding a cigarette—or what Brant hoped was just a cigarette. They met on the sidewalk. Brant noted the younger man’s fatigue as he dropped the cigarette to the ground and squashed it under the foot of his flip-flop. Brant didn’t know why he did it, other than that Boston looked like he needed it, but he pulled him into a hug instead of a handshake. Boston returned the embrace before pulling back. “Hey, man, I wondered where you were.”
“Hey, Boston, I came as soon as I found out. How’s everyone holding up?” Unlike their previous meeting, Brant thought Boston looked painfully sober now. Losing his sister seemed to have matured him almost overnight.
“About like you’d expect. Mom is completely zoned out on something, Dad is trying to act normal, and Em is trying to pretend that she isn’t hiding out in the bathroom to cry. The neighbors and Mom’s crazy friends have brought enough food by to feed an army. Every time they come, they try to force-feed me. It’s quiet now, but the crowd will be here soon.”
Confused, Brant asked, “The crowd?”
“Oh yeah.” Boston grimaced. “From the moment we found out, there has been someone here. It was like a revolving door yesterday, and I don’t expect today to be any better. The service is tomorrow afternoon. It’s one of those all-in-one where the visitation is right before the funeral.”
“Is there anything I can do for you or your family?” Brant asked.
“No, thanks, man. Just um . . . take care of Em, okay?”
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