by Shannyn Leah
He couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Come on. It can’t be worse than anything you’ve already said to me.”
Her cheeks darkened, a shade redder than her workout had made them.
“Grayson, I don’t think this is a good idea...”
He chuckled. “So there was something?”
Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. “The word ‘really’ kind of popped into my head first,” Emma admitted.
“Really? Really what?”
Emma glanced down at his bare chest, and he had to do everything in his power not to laugh.
He cleared his throat and said, “Then I would have said, it’s nice to see you, too.”
A shy smile crossed her lips. “And I would have said, I’m seeing too much of you.”
Yes, that sounded like a remark she’d say.
“I would have acted offended, although, I would be enjoying your banter, probably wiggled my eyebrows at you. Something like this...” He waggled his eyebrows and her smile widened. “...and finished with my killer troublemaking smirk...” he smirked.
“Yes, that looks about right.”
“Then, I probably would have said something along the line of, that’s not a complaint I get from most women.”
Emma’s smile vanished and so did the lightness between them. “I’m gonna go.”
He met her at the back of her treadmill. “Why?”
Emma took a deep breath. “Because, Grayson, last night I insulted you and your dad. Thank you for not telling Brock. Yes, I was worried about the merger, but for the first time, I also saw how much you didn’t like it. Even if you’re trying to shrug it off now, I can’t just let it go. I can’t pretend that what I said doesn’t hurt you and I can’t go back to the way we were, when I know it does.”
Grayson was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected her to...care...and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. What was with this new word?
He decided replying with his best defense of avoidance, diversion and a joke was in order.
“Darlin’, you don’t have to worry about hurting me. I’m thick-skinned.”
“It was so much easier hating you and then you go and show me your sorrow−”
“I don’t have sorrow.” Was she going to break out in a song? Expecting to have a heart-to-heart with him? He was appalled at the possibility.
“And your kindness...”
Oh for crying out loud, this was a bad family sitcom and he’d put himself smack dab in the middle.
Shut this down.
“You caught me on an off night.”
Emma folded her arms over her chest. She grinned. “You’re uncomfortable.”
“Woman, if I was uncomfortable, it would only be because you are wearing yoga shorts that do things to your ass that makes me want to spank you.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “And, he’s back.”
“Let’s not even talk about your backside.”
“This whole defense mechanism thing you’re doing is juvenile,” Emma told him.
“The only defense I have is blaming the duck walk thing you were doing. Why do you do it? And what is it actually called?”
“It’s called running away from your feelings and hiding behind a mask of crap,” she said, raising her voice.
“And, she’s back. Wouldn’t it be just as efficient, or more, to run or jog? Or can’t you jog?” he asked, walking back to his treadmill.
Emma eyed him up skeptically. “This is how you want to do it?”
“We only see each other around a dozen times a year, why ruin a good thing?”
“You mean why discuss your feelings, your emotions, your sadness...”
Exactly. He’d had a heavy dose of that with Linda yesterday, and he wasn’t about to jump in for round two.
He pointed at her treadmill. “The duck walk,” he said. “And I ask for the second time, can’t you jog?”
Chapter Twelve
EMMA DIDN’T LIKE ignoring the tension between them. Although they’d always had conflict, now an tension-filled wedge sat between them. She disliked this wedge more than the conflict, but for entirely different reasons.
She’d hurt him.
She had spent a sleepless night considering Grayson’s feelings. She hadn’t even known he’d had feelings. Probably because he’d always deflected every mean thing she’d ever said to him. She’d been so busy worrying about his interest in the other woman and about Brock finding out, that she hadn’t considered the way her words had affected Grayson. And, even after, he’d pushed past her hurtfulness to climb over a balcony on a cruise ship, to come to her rescue. If he wasn’t such an ass, he would almost be the perfect hero.
She’d planned on apologizing to him, or she’d been planning on how to apologize, before he’d stepped onto the treadmill beside her. But then he was hot and sexy, and suddenly half naked, stealing her thoughts, stealing her desire, and stealing every apology out of her mouth. She found herself left with no option, but to go along with Grayson. She owed him that much, even if she didn’t like it.
“I am fully capable of jogging,” Emma told him, turning her machine back on.
Did he have to be so close to naked? Her stress level was through the roof.
“I choose to quick walk.”
He sent her a baffled look. “Why?”
“Why not? Put your shirt back on,” she snapped out, before her filter could stop her.
Insult him again, go ahead.
He smiled, liking her short temper. He was weird...they were weird.
“Take yours off,” he said.
Of course he did.
Emma found herself smiling, against her better judgement. “Quite the gentleman.”
“I never claimed to be any such thing.”
Emma turned and started her quick walk, which only made her smile, thinking about his duck walk comment. She supposed, if she caught sight of herself in a mirror, a duck walk might be exactly what it looked like.
“Like this?” Grayson asked.
Emma glanced over to find him attempting to mimic her. She burst into laughter so hard her feet stumbled, but she quickly caught herself.
Standing as straight as a board, Grayson had his arms bent tightly against his side, and his legs were making small, quick steps. While he’d complimented her buttocks, his rear had been doing wonderful things, too. As he’d also pointed out, as a whole, he looked ridiculous.
“Am I doing it wrong?” he asked, continuing the ridiculous walk.
Emma laughed more. “I don’t know what you’re doing.”
His ridiculousness made her mouth dry and her insides hot.
“I’m doing the duck walk,” he ridiculed.
“It’s not called a duck walk.”
“Quack, quack.” He flapped his arms, and winked at her.
Oh my gosh.
Laughter poured out of her, making her forget her sleepless night and worrisome morning.
Grayson was a goof.
Suddenly aware that laughing with him while wanting to kiss him was a bad combination, she turned away from him to stare at the water in front of her.
Her legs picked up speed, as if trying to outrun what she knew was true.
When Grayson started long strides, asking her if that was better, she glanced over to satisfy his demand. She didn’t want to. In fact, she wanted to run out the door.
His movements only flexed his lean legs more and sent a thrill of desire through her.
Oh, seaweed scum. She was falling for Grayson.
Emma tripped on her own feet.
She couldn’t pin-point how. It was probably a combination of not paying attention, the excess speed, and his hotness. Likely all three had tangled her feet together. They flew behind her, sending her stomach flat on the belt, and winding her in the process. She hadn’t strapped the cord back on, and the unforgiving machine ruthlessly rolled her to the end, in what was likely the worst production of a graceful landing.
In a flash, Grays
on turned her machine off and met her at the base of the treadmill. Emma propped her hands on the floor to hold up her upper torso and groaned in pain.
“Emma, are you okay?”
She pushed past her winded chest. “Peachy.”
“Come on.” He shifted her body and lifted her into his arms. This time, no objection came from her. Her knees stung, her ankles stung and her chest was just starting to regulate her breaths.
Grayson carried her through a closed door and into a small room. It was dark and he flipped on a switch, lighting up a sitting area with bathrooms and showers that broke off onto a men’s side and women’s side. Mirrors wrapped around the room with marble counters and beige, material covered benches clustered in the center. He set her on one of the benches and she felt his fingers on her legs. She looked down to see her knees bleeding.
Oh great.
“I’ll be right back.” Grayson left.
Emma held in an embarrassed groan. First the glass in her foot, which she was grateful had been painless this morning, and now her knees were little maps of blood.
Great, just great. That will feel lovely in the chlorine water of the pool.
Grayson returned with a wet towel and kneeled down in front of her. “Besides your war wounds here, are you okay?”
“Physically or emotionally?”
“Both.”
She sucked in a breath when he touched her leg.
He paused and looked up at her. “You’re not planning to cut off my fingers if I clean this, are you?”
She gritted a smile at his memory of the bar, scene when he’d grazed her knee with his knuckle, the first time he’d ever touched her like that. It was a funny thing because that graze had pissed her off, but right now, with his fingers touching her, she only wanted him to go further up her thigh.
“Depends on what kind of pain you inflict on me.”
“For such an independent, strong woman, you are kind of a wimp,” he teased, with a wink.
He was right, she was a wimp. Even his light patting had her wincing in pain, until she realized it wasn’t pain at all. The clenching of her body was because of her close quarters with Grayson in the dim room. Why was every room on this cruise ship dim with dark furniture, always creating a romantic atmosphere? Or was it merely being with Grayson?
Head-stupid.
“I think you scraped your elbow, too,” he said.
Nope, she was pretty sure she didn’t and positive he shouldn’t rise to his knees, lean toward her, and twist her arm to look. He did it anyway, and she found her face less than a foot away from his.
How was he concentrating on anything when she was throwing balls of lust at him the size of planets?
Grayson patted her elbow, so she must have scraped it. When he finished, he looked at her. Big mistake. Huge mistake. Bigger than the friggin’ solar system.
He hadn’t put his shirt back on.
Why hadn’t he put his shirt back on?
In that instant, his stare deepened, and his beautiful emerald eyes grew so dark they almost looked black. They could not do whatever it was their bodies were telling them to do.
His hand touched her cheek, and she heard the slightest moan escape her own lips. He caught it with his eyes before looking back up at her.
The pad of his thumb traced her bottom lip, sending sheer desire through her, so forceful she forgot every last thing telling her this was a bad idea.
Why did it have to be a bad idea?
Cupid wasn’t hitting his target right with her and they were both willing participants.
Was she? Would it be enough to only sleep with him?
It wasn’t as if she’d planned more between them, or was expecting more. A future with this man was impossible and would probably be loveless. Although, Emma wasn’t so sure she believed the latter of that statement anymore. There was more to Grayson then he let on, but she didn’t want anything from him.
“Emma...” he breathed, and she felt his hot breath touch her lips. “Tell me to stop,” he begged, through a raspy voice.
How did he expect her to say no to the desire building in her chest?
Her hands touched his forearm, fingers tightly squeezing his damp skin, keeping him in place, encouraging him not to stop.
“Kiss me,” she breathed, against everything that told her not to.
Grayson didn’t need her to ask twice. His lips crashed down on hers with such force he pushed her over. His quick arm, snaked around her body, and caught her fall, pulling her against him. He cupped the side of her face with his other hand and his hungry mouth devoured her like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment.
Damp skin met damp skin. Her free hand landed between them pressing against his warm chest, feeling every groove and muscle.
Her legs instinctively parted for him, giving him access to close in the distance.
Emma didn’t know only a kiss could feel this alive. Scorching hot in her mouth, giving her the tiniest taste of him and making her want so much more.
Lifting himself from the ground, he moved onto the bench with her. Her back found the flat surface and he lay on top of her, still ravishing her mouth like a treasure he’d been searching for. He tasted delicious. He felt amazing. She was definitely going to regret this later.
Emma’s hands travelled up his bare back, feeling every flex beneath her, tingling her fingertips.
Grayson’s mouth found her neck and she arched back for him this time, instead of pushing away. There was no way she was turning him away. His hands moved down her fully clothed sides, over her shorts until his flesh burned her legs.
It was Emma’s turn to show him how much she wanted him. She gripped the sides of his face, and brought him back to her mouth, deepening the kiss.
Wrapping her legs around him, she pushed the wet warm area pooling between her legs against his hardness.
His moan brought one out of her.
Her fingers moved to his shorts, skimming the waistband playfully, before dipping underneath.
Grayson caught her wrist before she touched what she knew was waiting for her. “Wait,” he said.
Emma froze.
He broke their lips and his head fell beside her, resting on her shoulder. Their heavy breathing pressed their chests together.
Wait for what? Lock the door? A condom? What? What!
“Grayson?” she asked, not sure what else to do. He was still on top of her and she wasn’t sure why he’d stopped. She slowly rubbed her thumb against the side of his face, waiting for his response.
He moved to look at her. “Emma...” His husky voice and intense eyes made her swallow hard. “Don’t take this the wrong way...”
We can go back to your cabin, or mine. Maybe they had condom dispensers in the washrooms... That was a dumb thought. Everything was a dumb thought with him on top of her.
“...I won’t do this,” Grayson said.
Won’t? What?
How many ways could one person take that comment? He didn’t want her. He’d never really wanted her. He’d all but said it the night they were dancing. Grayson didn’t see her as a one-time thing and liked that she didn’t see him like that either.
How humiliating.
“Get off me,” she said, through barred teeth.
“Emma, please...”
“Are you going to have sex with me Grayson Cohen?” she demanded.
His face grew hard. “No.”
“Then get off me.”
He sat back and she pulled her legs away from his touch. She went to stand and he reached for her.
“Don’t,” she said, pulling her shirt down. Emma stayed on the bench, far enough away he where couldn’t reach her.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you.” Pity didn’t suit him and she didn’t want his pity.
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately. The question is, how many women have you said no to?”
He scrubbed his hand over his face looking irritated. “Don�
�t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other women.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped.
“You mean none. You just don’t want to say it.”
Emma stood.
“How many men have you said yes too?” he roared, and she jumped around to find he’d stood with her and towered above her. “You make me sound like such an asshole, just using woman after woman. They know what’s going on. They know what I offer. Do you?”
“What does that mean?”
“When do you sleep with a guy? When you’re deep in a relationship? When he’s making a promise? Do you ever have sex with a guy without the promises that follow?”
He was spot on and she didn’t like that he thought he knew her so well.
“That’s none of your business.”
“That’s what I thought. I’m not making you a promise.”
“I’m not asking you for one.”
“But you deserve one.”
“When did that become your decision to make? And why are you allowed to talk about me and my feelings, but yours are on lockdown?”
“That’s what I’m trying to say here. You’re ready to talk about feelings. I just bang.”
This was going nowhere.
“Forget it.”
Emma stormed out of the room, running straight into Brock. She bounced off his solid body and his arm flew out, catching her. These stupid womanizing Cohen men and their absurdly hard bodies!
“Hey, what’s the rush darlin’?” he asked, sounding a lot like his son.
Tom was beside him, both men in their workout clothes, neither had yet to work up a sweat. The only thing they looked guilty of doing was listening to the screaming on the other side of the door.
Emma flushed. She was sure of it.
“Sorry. I’m just heading back to the cabin to shower for breakfast.”
“There are lovely showers where you just came from,” Brock said. He eyed the door behind her and she heard Grayson push it open.
What could possibly be more mortifying than Grayson turning her down? How about his whole family knowing about it.
Emma pulled out of Brocks grasp and turned to face Grayson. He looked as shocked by the company as she was. Only, he had no idea they’d been listening.
“This is a lovely workout space,” Emma said to Brock. “I’ll see you all later.”