by Shannyn Leah
Emma didn’t like the tone of his accusation, as if she was unjustly judgemental. “Everyone sees you like that. You can’t get mad at me for a reputation you built.”
“I didn’t build it. Stuck-up, snotty people like you built it. You’re so damn perfect, it’s sickening. Look at yourself, you can’t let loose even to have, what would been amazing sex, and then have the nerve to label me because I’m not afraid to live.”
“Really? You’re not afraid?” She stepped toward him, gaining her strength back. “What are you hiding from right now that you think sleeping with me is going to solve?” she asked.
“Get out,” he shouted.
“Best idea since you stepped off that elevator.” She turned and grabbed the door handle. “And, I am not stuck-up,” she shouted back at him.
“You keep telling yourself that.”
“You’re a jackass.”
“Darlin’, I’ve been called worse.”
Ugh.
Emma slammed the door behind her and fell back against it.
He was infuriating. Who did he think he was? He completely destroyed her sane state of mind because he couldn’t keep his zipper up. He was the bloody horniest man she’d ever encountered and damned if he didn’t turn her on. The pounding headache coming on was no match for the throbbing between her legs.
“Whose cabin is that?” Izzy asked, accusation spilling out of her tone.
Izzy and Abby stood outside their cabin door sending curious looks at Emma. It was then she realized Grayson’s cabin was right beside hers.
Emma closed her eyes and rested her head on his door. This was going to be a terrible trip.
Chapter Six
AFTER A LONG, cold shower, and a few hours of hiding in work, Grayson dressed in a charcoal suit to meet his family for supper.
The server led the way to his family’s table, weaving them on the outer edge of the busy restaurant, and not interrupting the guests entertained by the live music flowing smoothly from the circular center stage. The classic harmony of the professional pianist set the elegant atmosphere in the two-story dining experience. With only one row of tables on the veranda, pushed against the glass balcony, it gave each guest a view of the main floor.
As Grayson had predicted, the Cohen table was tucked under the balcony, in the far back corner separated by metalwork dividers and plants. For a man who loved attention, his father preferred to dine in privacy.
Brock, Tom and Linda were already waiting for him.
“There’s my boy,” Brock said, teeth shining from behind a wide smile. He’d shaved and was as clean cut as his navy suit. “Haven’t seen you all day.”
“I had the pleasure of spending the day with him,” Linda said proudly, but she was warily eyeing Grayson up. He wasn’t surprised after the way he’d abandoned her this afternoon. One of the two apologies he owed this evening. He couldn’t explain what happened this afternoon, and he wasn’t preparing himself to explain, but his ill-mannered actions and words deserved apologies.
Grayson stopped beside Linda and held his hand out. “A dance?” he asked.
Linda smiled, slipping her hand into his. “Of course.” She slipped the material napkin off the lap of her silk beige skirt and stood. She wore a sophisticated blazer outfit, adding her own flair of uniqueness with the scarlet colored ruffled blouse and matching floral pin scooping one side of her hair up.
Grayson guided her to the dance floor. A few couples moved around them, and Grayson worked up the courage to speak. He would have much rather stayed in his stateroom all night, brushing off the events of the day. If he’d been dealing with Brock or Tom, that would have been his method, emerging in the morning acting like nothing had happened. However, his aunt didn’t hide and ignore.
“I wanted to apologize about this afternoon,” he started, finally looking at her.
Linda’s brown, hawk eyes were watching him closely. She nodded in response, waiting for more.
“I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”
Linda remained quiet. No, It’s alright, or Are you okay? She was still waiting for the unfinished business they had at the coffee shop.
Stubborn, she was.
Grayson had always assumed his stubbornness came from his dad, but maybe he had a little of his mother’s side of stubborn in him, too.
“And...” he said, watching a reaction finally dance in her eyes in the form of hope.
Grayson took a deep breath. He couldn’t tell her everything, but he could divulge some of his pain. Enough to satisfy her. “...I’ve never been back to the toss of the lines. Me or Dad. Nor did I ever go back to the arcade. I haven’t stepped foot on the Kidsplex since Mom died, like it was punishment for that day.”
Linda’s smile was sad, reflecting reassurance, reflecting love. “You were eight, Grayson. You shouldn’t have been punishing yourself for anything.”
“Says the woman who harbors guilt for the times you didn’t board the cruise with Mom.”
Linda sighed. “I guess we both have some work ahead of us, but one thing is for sure, I want you to know you can talk about her, with me, whenever you want. I should have told you that when you were eight, but...” She licked her lips and frowned. Her eyes moved away from him and he saw her pain, fresh and raw.
People always told him that it would get easier as the years passed without his mother, and it was true, as long as he didn’t give his thoughts about her too much time.
“...I had other things I was trying to fix,” Linda said at last. She smiled her same sad smile at him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you as much as I should have been. But, I’m here now.”
Grayson kissed her forehead. “I knew you were there,” he said. “You were there more than you know.”
Grayson didn’t pry into what was obviously painful for her to discuss. He could have, and thrown it in her face for turning his day upside down trying to make him talk about Susan. However, he knew Linda did it out of love, and for that, he kept silent.
“Now...” He twirled her away, and when she returned, he enjoyed her laughter and smile. “It’s been a year since I have been on a cruise and this is your first cruise, so as much as it reminds us both of Mom, why don’t we try and smile for her. She would rather us smile and enjoy this, than run, hide and cry like we’ve been doing.”
She let her lips curve upwards. “Did you cry Grayson Cohen?”
“My lips are sealed.”
She sent him a playful glare. “You didn’t cry, did you?”
He smiled. His aunt knew him too well. “I’m not a baby.”
Linda lightly slapped his chest. “There are moments you act like it, and other times you make good points. Frowns turned upside down, sounds perfect.”
There was no more talk of their past regrets. Talking about one regret was plenty enough disturbing turmoil for Grayson’s body.
After a few dances, Grayson led Linda off the dance floor, catching sight of the Caliendo women making their way toward his table.
Apology number two.
Emma’s hair was swept up into wisps of loose braids. A more reserved beige dress hugged her body, flaring at the ground. This looked more like the Emma he knew. Lace ran up her arms and across her chest. It didn’t matter whether she wore a revealing or covering dress, she was beautiful...and not only on the outside.
Regret, an emotion he wasn’t accustomed to, swelled in his chest.
Today, Emma had been concerned, catching him in the middle of what he could only describe as a meltdown. He couldn’t remember a time, past the days of his mother’s funeral, when anyone had worried about him. Except, of course, his family. And what had he done when Emma shed her true concern? Royally messed up. Another swell of regret made it hard for him to keep steady breathing.
It was one thing to tease Emma, hell, he hadn’t ever taunted her the way he had on this cruise, using her body as his inspiration. He liked to stick to her nose in a book, studying, working, goody two-shoes person
ality. But, what he pulled in his cabin was going way far beyond acceptable, making him the jackass she’d shouted at him seem realistic.
“Will you excuse me,” he said to Linda. He hugged her, and then ran to catch up with Emma before she arrived at the Cohen table. “Can we talk?” he asked her.
Three sets of eyes locked on him. Had Emma told them about his disrespectful behavior? Were they mad? Curious? Ready to punch him in the gut?
If his gaze had wandered away from Emma’s blue eyes, for even a second, he would have had the answer. But her eyes held him, unreadable, and leaving him feeling unsure.
Finally, Emma nodded, but her stare didn’t waver. The other women followed the server away.
“Dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.
Emma eyed his offer skeptically. She was proving to be a more challenging apology.
“What do you want, Grayson?”
“To apologize.”
She bit her lower lip and nibbled on it in debate. “Fine, apology accepted.” She turned to walk away.
“Wait,” he chuckled, but it lacked amusement, and reached for her. “You don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.”
Emma turned, crossing her arms over her chest, out of Grayson’s reach. “I assume it’s because you’re an arrogant jackass. The term ‘seaweed scum’ is proving to be accurate.”
People glanced at them from the surrounding tables. A negative scene between a Cohen and Caliendo was not what they needed, particularly holding the possibility of Micah and Casey witnessing it. For all they knew, there could be another server guiding the two of them right this way.
“Half a dance?” he pleaded, saving his charming smile, and leaving a serious look across his face. Emma wasn’t the type of girl a charming smile worked on.
Emma groaned, very unladylike, but a lot adorable. “Fine. Half a dance and no inappropriate touching,” she hissed.
He crossed his hand over his chest. “You have my word.”
“That’s not reassuring.” She walked past him and didn’t touch him until they were on the dance floor. Even then, she was reluctant, keeping a wide space between them as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
Grayson breathed deeply, not sure where to start. His eyes were drawn to her, but her frigid features encouraged him to look elsewhere.
“You’ve wasted half your half-a-dance staring out and about at other women,” she said, scowling.
He looked at her. “You’re the only woman in this room who has my attention.”
Emma stopped dancing. “What are you doing?” She crossed her arms again, which he was learning was her “back off” action. “I’m okay with the, ‘Is your weekend all booked?’ humor you usually spit out like an immature adolescent, but this...” She sighed. “I’m not okay with this. If a man tells me I’m the only one who has his attention, I want it to be true. Not a game to conquer me. I’m not like them, Grayson. I’m not a one-time girl.”
He’d never thought she was. “You really do have all my attention, Emma. I’m not looking, or thinking, of another woman in this room, and it’s not because I want to conquer you. I said and did some awful things to you this afternoon, and I’m trying to figure out how to say I’m sorry with the sincerity I mean.”
Emma started chewing on her lip again. Add the glasses she normally wore and she would be cute as a button right now.
She stepped toward him, taking his hand and wrapping her other arm around his shoulder. Closer this time.
“I’m listening,” she said.
They moved slowly, hardly at all, in their own little area, and even moved onto the next song.
“What happened in my cabin was inexcusable. My actions were unexpected, hasty and insulting to you.”
The memory of how amazing she felt under his lips and against his body burned through him. He’d never felt such a strong attraction for a woman before.
“I know you’re not like the women I usually hook up with. For me to treat you like that after you only expressed concern for me was...uncalled for.”
Emma watched him, her eyes wide, her chest unmoving, as is she was holding her breath. Her pinched lips wore a matte nude color tonight but still looked full and kissable.
“I’m so sorry I called you my next lay. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was ignorant and meant to be hurtful, but it was untrue. That is not how I see you. I like that you put me in my place, when I deserve to be put there, and call it like it is. No holding back, no tip-toeing around my last name. I like that you don’t look at me and see me as a man you are trying to conquer.”
Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip.
“I have too much respect for you. Do you know who you are? Thee, Emma Caliendo. I might tease you, and infuriate you, but I admire you. You are strong and confident and beautiful.”
A half smile found her lips. “You’re getting side-tracked, Charming.”
He chuckled. “Alright. I think that about sums up my apology.”
“You’re missing something.”
He tilted his head. “Am I?”
“I am not stuck-up,” she said, serious. So serious, her eyes darkened a shade of blue, highlighting black specks.
Grayson laughed, and, with their hands still together, she punched his shoulder.
“Alright, I’m sorry. You’re not that stuck-up.”
“Well, you’re still a jackass and I’m not apologizing for calling you one.” Emma smiled at him, before growing serious again. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for whatever was bothering you today.”
His throat started closing in on him and he could only offer a nod.
When the dance finished, she broke their contact. His body longed to pull her back into his arms.
What was that?
He’d been with women, plenty of women, for a lot of years, and never did the mixed up feelings he was getting for Emma today, play a part with those other women. He had a system: he saw a pretty lady, she gave him the look she was willing to do whatever he wanted and they found the closest private area to screw. Then it was done, finished. No wanting to pull a woman back into his arms, to soothe the components that were out of whack in him.
“We should probably get back to the table,” Emma said.
She was right. He needed a drink, food, and a reality check to sort out his misalignment.
Emma stepped toward him, and placed her hand on his chest. The gentleness of her handprint burned through the material of his shirt, stroking away his pain.
Son of a bitch.
“I hope you can face whatever you’re running from. I live in a family who have been known to push their feelings down in the deepest depths of their soul, and it doesn’t ever seem to benefit any of them.”
She kissed his cheek, and whispered in his ear, “And thanks for kicking me out of your cabin, at the precise moment Izzy was standing in the hallway. She now thinks you’ve conquered me and that your dad wants to, so that’s a whole lot of stuff I have to deal with. So, again, thanks for that, neighbor.”
Emma smiled before starting back toward the table.
Grayson let her get a few steps ahead before he followed. This time, he didn’t watch her derrière with appreciation, instead he wondered why she was so nice to him after he’d been quite a jackass?
More bothersome, was his father interested in Emma? Was that what this whole invitation was about? He couldn’t help but recall how defensive his family had become when he’d insulted Emma. Was there something he didn’t know? Probably not. After all, Emma wasn’t a one-time girl.
Grayson felt reassured by Emma’s strength. She wouldn’t fall into the games his father played. She was too smart for any of the Cohens.
Chapter Seven
AS EMMA HAD expected, there were two side-by-side chairs waiting for her and Grayson when they arrived at the table. Guilty looks flushed her party, followed by a continual stream of questioning looks from the same women who had nothing better to do then debate whet
her she’d banged Grayson or was working her way up to it.
Did they all think she was that easily swayed into the arms and bed of a man whose pastime was doing exactly that? Tempted by what? His low husky voice and the charming talk that curved with it? Some thick muscles? A head of gorgeous hair? She had more class than that...even Grayson saw that much in her.
Guilt claimed her for giving into her desire for Grayson, especially after he confessed that was one thing about her he liked: that she didn’t want to conquer him. She didn’t. However, since that kiss, it had been hard not to want to kiss him again.
Dinner hadn’t been as insufferable as it would have been if Grayson hadn’t pulled her aside before the main course. She had walked into the restaurant, still fuming over their exchange in his cabin, and unsure how she would manage a proper smile and etiquette at the dinner table when all she contemplated was throwing a dinner plate at his head. Did he not have any morals? They were going into business together, which meant hands off and she wasn’t a floozy.
Then Grayson had taken her hand like a gentleman, touching her respectably and apologized. A real apology. He’d even convinced her...and for such an accomplishment, he earned recognition. Emma was convinced if she hadn’t witnessed him so distraught in the hallway, she wouldn’t have accepted his apology tonight, and would have instead, brushed it off as Grayson simply trying to flatter his way back onto her good side...as if he’d ever been on her good side in the first place.
Whatever was bothering Grayson still worried Emma, to the point she paid special attention to the Cohens behavior all through dinner. She looked for signs of tension, a fight maybe, or disagreement, but came up empty. Instead, the Cohens were another bundle of laughs this evening, smart, entertaining and funny. Emma’s sides had hurt on multiple occasions when her laughter got the best of her. At the same time, it had been a relief to get away from Micah and Casey’s watchful eyes and scribbling notes. She hated the press, and on some level, that’s what they were.