by Shannyn Leah
No. That was a bad idea...or a very good idea. It depended how you flipped it and right now she wanted him to flip her and land right on top.
“I thought we weren’t friends,” she said, trying to put distance between them.
“I’m not inhumane. I won’t leave you out here bleeding alone.”
Won’t. Ugh. That was a statement, not a question.
Her foot stung.
What choice did she have?
“Alright.”
Chapter Ten
EMMA WEIGHED NOTHING in Grayson’s arms. He carried her inside, still angry at her and with every right to be. Sort of...not really...a little bit.
Was it unfair to hold her words against her, when they were the truth? Why was he so mad about her pointing out the obvious? He had sex with a lot of women. Brock had sex with a lot of women. Both likely more than the average single guy.
Grayson wasn’t mad about that. If there was one thing he liked about Emma, it was her blunt honesty. The longer he’d stewed, the more he realized she’d opened her window of perception of him. That was where his anger resided.
Emma believed everything between them, all night, was about him trying to sleep with her. He was pissed off she thought so little of him, that the two of them, together, having a good time, could only be a goal to get her into his cabin...into his bed. There was more to him than sex.
The current pressing matter was her foot, and tried not to notice how thin the barrier of her dress was between them.
It was distracting.
Almost to the point he would have rather not stepped outside this evening.
Deep down, had he hoped that their night might end in a bed?
Was he that shallow?
Grayson set her down on a kitchen chair. The light displayed her free nipples pressing against the material, decisively letting him know she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Emma’s cringe and quick intake of air, sucked between her teeth, drew him back to her injury.
Maybe he deserved every insult she tossed his direction. He seemed incapable of focusing away from her body, and to her pain.
She was favoring her right foot, so that’s the one he lifted for inspection first. Blood speckled the skin, but he saw no serious gashes. He ran his finger along her sole and her gasp indicated there was a piece of glass lodged in there somewhere.
“I’ll be fine,” Emma said, trying to pull her foot back.
“You have a piece of glass in there.” Grayson pulled his phone out and turned on the flashlight for a better look.
“It’s okay.”
He held her foot in place and ignored her attempts to get rid of him. She was probably thinking his concern was to no more than to bed her. He felt the anger shifting more to himself. He was the one who dealt the cards that put him in this predicament.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your phone call,” she said quietly. “If you have plans−”
“I don’t have plans.”
“If you were making plans−”
“I wasn’t making plans. Do you have tweezers? I see a piece in your foot.”
When she didn’t answer he looked up and repeated himself.
“Yes,” she said, offering no location.
“And they are?”
Emma looked reluctant. “In the upstairs makeup vanity between the bedroom and closet,” she finally said. “It should be inside the gold bag, but I’m not positive because...it’s kind of a mess up there. You know what? I can go get them.” She started to stand and groaned.
Grayson caught her shoulders. “Sit down. It’s fine.”
He climbed the stairs two at a time.
The loft bedroom looked identical to his that wasn’t going to help him sleep tonight. He caught sight of her dress on the bed with a lace bra on top.
He swallowed hard, and walked past, focused on his tweezer mission.
She wasn’t kidding. The vanity area looked like a tornado had ripped through it and hadn’t stopped as it’s made its way into the closet beyond. Again, identical to his, but hers had more clothes than even his closet at home and half of them were strewn on the ground with the chaise sitting in the center of the room.
Grayson looked at the counter sprinkled with tiny containers of makeup...lots of makeup.
Gold bag.
He spotted it on the ledge. When he opened it, there were more bottles, both glass and plastic, like she didn’t have enough already.
Grayson took the whole bag down and handed it to her. He settled on a chair across from her as she began digging in it.
“I hate to tell you,” he began, and her eyes snapped up. “I’m pretty positive a tornado has gone through your bedroom.”
Emma flushed. “Only half of it was me. The other half was Izzy.”
He chuckled, able to envision that.
“Here.” She set the bag on the table and held the tweezers out to him.
“Thank you.” He lifted her foot to the light and she worked at wrapping her skirt around her leg so he had no vision beyond. That was wise, especially with his eyes having a mind of their own.
Before the tweezers touched her foot, she yanked it away. She curled both her legs under the skirt of her dress and wrapped her arms tightly around them.
He couldn’t help the grin that crossed his lips. “I didn’t even touch the area yet.”
“I know.”
Grayson held his hand out. “Can I have your foot back?”
She shook her head.
“Emma...”
“We’re not friends. I think I would rather have a friend dig around in my foot.”
“I’m not going to dig around.”
“That’s what you say.”
He sighed. “Emma, saying we aren’t friends was a little harsh−”
“You had every right. I don’t blame you. I just don’t want your revenge to be with my foot.”
He grinned again. “I promise my revenge will not be with your foot.”
“How do I know? I called you and your dad competing manwhores.” She whispered the last word and a look of guilt crossed her face.
Grayson dropped his hand. “I’m going to be honest with you, manwhore was not a good choice in wording especially as I will have the future of your foot in my hands.” He was trying to make light of the situation, but she threw her hands in the air with a groan.
“Great. So, now I’ve made it worse. You couldn’t have just stayed on your side of the balcony and let me suffer like I deserve.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“It’s my foot,” she snapped.
He’d meant about torturing herself for calling him out on an obvious truth. How could he possibly stay mad at her when she was so adorable?
“If it hurts I will stop. I promise.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Promise?”
“Yes. Scouts honor.” He crossed his hand over his chest.
“You were a scout?” Emma asked.
“No.”
“So that’s kind of a false promise. Almost like a lie.”
Grayson scooted the chair closer to her, scraping the legs on the floor. She moved as far back in the chair as she could.
He took one of her hands. She tried to pull away, but he leaned over and placed it on his shoulder. Her touch was like a captivating rainbow after a nasty storm.
“Squeeze me if it hurts, and I will let go.”
The look she gave him was adorable. A mixture of “are you serious” and “you must be crazy.”
“Okay?” He held his hand out for her foot.
Slowly, she stretched her leg out, but it was impossible for him to look at it with her holding his shoulder. He knelt on the floor, and turning his back to her, he tucked her leg under one arm. The bend of her knee at his side, gave him a better view of her sole, and without her watchful eyes.
Emma panicked. “Grayson, what are you doing?”
He was trapping her leg so she couldn’t pull away again. He didn�
�t dare tell her.
The area with the stick glass was a shade of irritated pink. He moved his tweezers for the removal.
“Ouch Grayson! Ouch!” Emma whined, squeezing his arm, digging her nails through his shirt.
He continued, against his promise. The damn little thing needed to come out and he wasn’t carrying her through this entire ship to the doctor for a tiny speck of glass. It took less than half a minute, but it was a half a minute full of her pleading with him to stop. He was sure the pain wasn’t as severe as her episode sounded. She was worse than a child. When yelling and grabbing him didn’t work, she pounded on his shoulders, which only shook his hands, but he managed to get a grasp and pulled it out. Under a minute. It was tiny.
Grayson released her foot, but didn’t move. She finished using him as a punching bag to lean over his shoulder.
“Let me see,” she snapped in his ear. With a huff, she gave him a final punch on the shoulder.
He held the tweezers up showing off his “dig” and became distinctly aware of their position. Her legs were around him. One leg wrapped around his middle, while the other was against his side with her foot propped around his front on his leg. Close, very close, to the part of him that throbbed for her. One of her arms wrapped around his neck, gripping a handful of the front of his shirt, which only exposed more of his bare chest. Her stomach and breasts were pressed against his back.
Concentrate.
While she was distracted, examining the target of her pain, he ran his finger along her sole again. When she didn’t flinch, he came to the conclusion he’d removed the only piece of glass.
Grayson turned his attention to her. He hadn’t realized she was holding his hand to get a better look at the tweezers.
“You suck at promises,” she grumbled. “That really friggin’ hurt.”
He glanced over his shoulder, finding his amusement with her again. For some reason, this woman had a way of making his insides smile. He’d been with a lot of women, but most of them couldn’t even drag half of a real smile out of him, let alone stir feelings inside him. Emma had that power, even if she didn’t know it, to do both. Was that what drew him to her, the promise of this foreign feeling in him? It felt good, a little scary, but really good.
Emma’s face was inches from his. His eyes fell to her lips and her eyes devoured his. Suddenly, they were heading in a friendlier than friendly direction.
Damn it.
Grayson could have kissed her. They both knew her body was begging for it. Her foot had slipped deeper down his thigh, centimeters from the part thriving for her touch. Her hand had slipped from gripping his shirt to lie flat against his chest, her fingertips digging against his skin. If she was any other woman, they would already be on the table, but something stopped him. They couldn’t cross this line...he wouldn’t, not with Emma. Why? Now was not the time to debate.
Grayson tore his eyes away from her lips. “Friggin?” he asked.
Emma blinked, mulling over his question, before she cracked a smile, and her eyes finally found his. Half the lust washed away, but not all of it. “I was trying to be ladylike and avoid the curse I was thinking.”
“How thoughtful of you. No thank you necessary.”
She forced out a thank you but it looked like it almost killed her.
Grayson patted her bare leg, how he wanted to slide it up her leg, and said, “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
It was nothing compared to the resistance testing them.
Grayson stood up before they ended up on the table, counter, or any other surface.
He dampened a washcloth at the sink. When he reached for her foot again, she held out her hand.
“I can do it,” she said. “I don’t want to waste anymore of your night.”
“You’re not wasting my night.” But he handed her the washcloth, keeping his distance. “I’m going to clean up the glass on the balcony,” he said.
“I can do that, too.” She went to stand, but he stopped her, touching her hand. Instant heat.
“I’ve got this. Wash your foot and if you feel any pain when I’m finished, let me know and I will take another look.”
She grinned. “I might not tell you.”
He chuckled. “Stubborn, aren’t you?”
Grayson cleaned up the glass, taking his time, wishing it was a chillier night to cool down his burning body. When he finished, he was tempted to climb back over the balcony and avoid the awkwardness he knew was waiting for him inside Emma’s cabin. Hiding, he was good at that.
Surprising himself, he went back inside.
In the kitchen, Emma was favoring her right foot, and he smelled freshly brewed beans.
She smiled at him. “I made coffee.”
He noticed the soft music she’d turned on and the room remained dimly lit.
“It’s not an invitation into my bed, Grayson. It’s coffee and music. I can turn the music off if it would make you less uncomfortable.”
Grayson straightened. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
She stopped beside the table, picking her right foot up and resting her knee on the chair. A small smile came to her lips. “You look like you’re ready to jump out of your skin.” She tilted her head. “Are you like this with all the ladies?”
All the ladies.
“I have to go.” He stalked past her, but her fingers touched his arm, stopping him.
“I’m stuck-up and judgemental,” she said. “What you or Brock do is none of my business and certainly not my place to critique. I can’t express how sorry I am.”
He looked at her and saw the worry in her eyes. The apology had nothing to do with him. It hurt.
“You don’t have to worry about the merge, Emma.”
She flushed, looking at the floor.
“I don’t hold grudges, nor do I run and tattle to Daddy. You also don’t have to invite me for coffee when you really don’t want to.”
Emma shyly peered at him through her long lashes. “I want you to stay,” she said. “For coffee,” she clarified. “Just coffee. If you want.”
“How’s your foot?” he asked, noting it was still propped up on the chair. “Feel like there’s any glass in it still?”
She shook her head.
“Are you lying to me?”
She smiled. “No.”
He wanted to touch her face, but kept his hands at his side. “Thanks for the invite...maybe another time.”
Emma let go of his arm.
“I’m going to use the door this time,” he said.
The comment got another smile out of her. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, flying over like a superhero.”
He wasn’t even close to the term and they both knew it.
“Lock it behind me,” he instructed.
She nodded.
“Goodnight Emma.” He wanted to kiss her cheek, but resisted. “I’ll see you around.”
When he stepped out of Emma’s cabin, he found Linda pounding on his door. She looked between the numbers on the door. “Do I have the wrong cabin?” she asked.
“No.”
“What happened? You hung up on me so fast I didn’t know what was going on.”
Explaining whatever was going on with Emma was too difficult, too deep... Too scary. So, he opted to infuriate her instead, and asked, “Did you know Samantha is on board?”
Chapter Eleven
AFTER A COMPLICATED evening and unsettling sleep, Grayson woke up early needing to run it off.
He stepped into the private gym, only accessible to the penthouse suite guests. The room sparkled, whether it was the reflection of the machines or the chrome ceiling above, he wasn’t quite sure. The equipment overlooked the gorgeous water through the encased windows, enhancing any workout.
Grayson was ready to work up a sweat.
Walking along the geometric blue and silver floor, he spotted Emma on a treadmill. His body liked her presence, but his head didn’t agree.
Grayson climbed on the tr
eadmill beside her. He should have picked the machine furthest away, but apparently, dreams of her disrupting his night, weren’t enough torture for him.
He started up the machine, increasing the speed into a jog, and worked his way into a run.
Grayson noticed Emma’s ear-buds and her thick hair pulled into a ponytail. Her jog had bounce to it. Grayson left his buds hanging around his neck, breaking into a quicker speed.
When Emma glanced over, wearing a casual smile, it quickly dropped as she recognized him.
She pulled out her ear-buds. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
“I didn’t think anyone would be here this early.”
He shrugged. “Me neither.”
“I’m an early riser.” That was something he didn’t know about her. There were plenty of things he didn’t know about her. For example, what made Emma purr? Stop it.
They ran for five minutes in complete and utterly awkward silence. Well, Grayson ran, fast and hard while Emma maintained a fast walking pace which made her look ridiculous, but also made her tight, round buttocks look amazing.
Thank you to whoever invented yoga wear.
Feeling the perspiration start, Grayson tore off his t-shirt and hung it over the machine’s arm, keeping his steady pace. He would have to hit the weights, too. His workout time was lacking the last couple of days and he would have to make up for it.
Emma turned off her machine, but she kept walking until it stopped completely.
“Finished already?” he asked her.
“I just got here,” she admitted.
Grayson turned off his machine, catching her discomfort. He stood facing her. “Why are you leaving?”
“I don’t know. It’s complicated now, and I don’t know what to say to you.”
He could relate. He’d hoped they could quietly ignore and forget the last couple days and move past this. It was how he always dealt with the few explosions between him and his family: ignore and smile. Couldn’t it be that easy with Emma, too?
Grayson sent her a charming smile, even though he knew she hated his smiles. “What was the first thing that came into your mind today that you wanted to say to me?”
Emma bit her lower lip and shook her head. “No,” she said.