by Rosanna Leo
Michael put an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go back inside.”
“Please, Em,” begged Trent. “We had it good once. We can have that again. I know I made mistakes, but I’ve learned from them. I’ll do anything. Do you want me to get on my knees? I will. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Go home, Trent.” The crack in her voice was enough to bring Michael to his knees.
“I meant what I said. I won’t give up. I’ll find a way to get you back.”
“You’re trespassing on private property.” Michael fought to keep the growl out of his voice. “Now leave before I call the cops.”
“Fine. I’ll go for now.” Trent retreated. “But, Emily, you won’t have Michael Zorn running interference every moment of every day. We will have this conversation. I’ll make you see I still love you with all my heart. You can’t hide from me forever.”
Michael led Emily up the steps and opened the front door.
As soon as she was inside, Lacey darted toward her. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you all over the place.” She pulled a pale-faced Emily into the house.
Before Michael headed in after her, he called out to Trent. “Just an FYI. I played football. I can run interference with the best of them.”
Trent grinned and walked away toward his car.
If Michael hadn’t just installed a new front door, he would have slammed it.
* * * *
“I need you to make an important decision.” Michael sidled up to Emily with a smile on his face at the end of the day. “It could alter the course of your life.”
She brushed the dust off her jeans with a few slaps. “Sounds serious.”
“It is. I know we originally decided on a stainless finish for your kitchen fixtures, but I think we need something more dramatic against the white backdrop of the tiles and counters.” He sucked in a breath. “I think we need to go with bronze.”
Emily laughed at his show of kitchen melodrama. “Wow. This does change things. How will I ever decide?”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to take in. All kidding aside, I do think bronze will look better, but it’s an upgrade. Are you free tonight? I could take you to the hardware store and show you the finishes and you can decide. If the bronze is too much, we still have all the stainless fixtures in our warehouse.”
“That sounds great, but only on one condition.” She cleared her throat. “I’d like to make you dinner afterward.”
Michael did his best not to fist pump. “You’re on.”
“Great. I’ll get my things.”
Her shy smile did many things to Michael. It made him wonder and caused him to hope. It also made his jeans feel a whole lot tighter. Just so he wouldn’t look like a sex-starved creeper, he concentrated on a topic that caused immediate shrinkage. Trent. “Just out of curiosity, does Trent have a key to your condo?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe we should remedy that while we’re at the hardware store.”
“Do you think it’s necessary?”
“I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. He’s already shown up here unannounced, and it’s not as if he needs a copy of your key anymore.”
“You’re right, and I don’t feel like reaching out to him to get the old one back.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll get a new lock and keys. I’ll install the lock for you tonight after dinner.”
“You’d do that? I can pay you for your labor.”
“I’d be happy to do it. If you really need to pay me, do it in soup.”
“Soup, it is. Thank you, Michael.” She placed a hand on his forearm and stood on tiptoe, dropping a kiss onto his cheek.
He breathed in, trying to get a whiff of her strawberry lip gloss, but he couldn’t detect it. She’d probably licked it off during the day. He wished he could have licked it off himself. “That’s two kisses now, Em. You know what they say about the third time being a charm?”
She raced off to collect her bags but there was no hiding her blush. Even the back of her neck was scarlet.
He was probably being overprotective, insisting on a new lock for her unit, but he didn’t care. Better that than underestimating what Trent might do in his current frame of mind. Michael had seen firsthand how a man could be driven off his rocker after a breakup. Trent might have cheated, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t experiencing the sting of Emily’s rebuff. He’d said he would do anything to get her back.
Michael would do anything to ensure she never had reason to fear.
He would not let her end up the way Jane Ashton did.
Michael and Emily might not have had years of history under their belts, as she did with Trent, but that didn’t mean Michael didn’t possess an awareness. She meant something to him. He needed to touch her and taste her and give her the same level of intense need he endured every day.
It was about time he told her.
He had never achieved anything in his life by beating around the bush. In his experience, people liked knowing where they stood.
Tonight at dinner, he would tell Emily how he felt. She might not be ready to hear it and he could be patient, but he would leave her with no illusions.
He wanted her, plain and simple. If that meant he had to wait for her, so be it, but something told him he wouldn’t be waiting long.
* * * *
“You do realize I invited you to dinner for ulterior motives, right?” Emily ladled another hearty portion of her new Spicy Thai soup into Michael’s bowl.
He pretended to wipe his brow. “Because you get off on watching a grown man sweat from eating too much hot food?”
“No, but I was hoping for a favorable reaction. I just tweaked my Thai recipe and wanted to see what you thought. Too much lemongrass?”
He ripped off another chunk of the herb bread she’d set between them and tucked in with gusto. “You just keep pouring and let me worry about the lemongrass.”
Emily laughed as she topped off his bowl. He had a great appetite, but if he did regularly overeat, she couldn’t tell. She cast a glance at his flat stomach, spying no evidence of overindulgence. She knew for a fact he had washboard abs. There had been one hot day on set when many of the men had stripped out of their shirts. Michael and his brothers were by far the nicest specimens of the men on the crew, but there was something about the undulating ridges on Michael’s stomach that had Emily secretly praying for a heat wave ever since. She still hadn’t managed to pop her eyes back into her head.
Michael finally sat back and rubbed his non-existent belly. “I’m wrecked. I can’t eat another bite. This was so good, Em.”
“It was just soup.”
“Not true.” He indicated the remains of the meal on the table. “It was pasta, bread, salad and wine. Oh, and the best soup I’ve ever tasted.”
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t have rather had a juicy steak?”
“I’ll never turn down steak, but I love what you made. You’re talented in the kitchen. People are going to love your products.”
“Thanks. It’s only fair I repay you for installing my new lock. Oh, and for talking me into some very expensive bronze kitchen taps.”
“They’ll look awesome, I promise.” He reached across the table for another chunk of bread, popped it into his mouth and grinned.
Although they’d never had lulls in their conversations thus far, Emily suddenly ran out of words. It was hard to think when he smiled at her like that, like a lion sizing up the fleshiest parts of a cornered gazelle. His eyes seemed to darken. His gaze dropped, lingering around her neckline and breasts, slowly traveling back up to read the expression on her face. As he chewed his bread, Emily imagined him nibbling her breasts, sucking at her nipples, all while wearing that devastating grin and nothing else.
“I should clear the dishes.” She threw herself away from the table and stood, gathering up items on her side of the table. She didn’t dare grab anything on Michael’s side, just in case she l
ost all sense and lunged for his lap instead. Clutching the soup tureen, she turned.
“Em.” Somehow, he could make one syllable sound sexy and stern. “Look at me.”
“This tureen needs to soak. If I leave it until tomorrow, it’ll be a crusty mess.”
“Emily, put the tureen down and look at me.”
She set the tureen on the counter. It made a clanging noise that echoed in her ears. When she turned to look at him, he was standing right behind her. It was one thing to see Michael from a distance, but his allure intensified when he was up close and personal. His dimensions overshadowed and overwhelmed her. His scent, the memory of nice soap and wood shavings, would always smell like desire to her. His five o’clock shadow entranced her and she wanted to feel his stubble abrade her skin.
She shouldn’t want him so much, but she did. “Michael, I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” A dare glimmered in his eyes.
“Can’t…do this.”
“So I hear. The thing is, Em, we’re not doing anything.” He reached for her right hand, gently caressing her bruised knuckles. “Yet.”
She wanted to kiss him, to swallow him whole. Why was she fighting it when everything in her screamed his name? Why was she so afraid?
It was too soon. If she allowed herself to think about her early days with Trent, she could still remember how happy they were. So many sensations remained vivid in her mind. The soft press of his lips at the back of her neck from when he used to sneak up and embrace her from behind. The growl of yearning he used to make when he took her to bed. She recalled every instance in which he’d said he’d never abuse her trust.
Until he did.
The scariest part was that when she sought to remember Trent now, his face had already been replaced with Michael’s. Surely that wasn’t right, that she could pass over one man so easily for another.
In fairness, Trent had passed over Emily the minute he’d looked at Veronica.
“I know he broke your heart.” Michael turned her hand over in his and caressed her palm with his thumb. “But you need to understand I’m not Trent and I’ll never hurt you.”
“With all due respect, Trent used to say the same sorts of things.”
He released her hand and cupped her cheek. “I like you and I think you like me.”
“I…”
“Just let me say this. I know it’ll take time, and I don’t expect you to believe everything you hear right now. It’s only natural you should be suspicious, but I think we could have something incredible together. I’m not trying to seduce you into some week-long fling that goes nowhere. You mean too much to me. Now, I’ll give you all the time you need, but make no mistake. I want you, Emily, and I will make you mine.”
If his fingers hadn’t been caressing her cheek, somehow bolstering her, she would have fallen down. Michael Zorn wanted her? It was almost too much to process. Sure, they’d flirted here and there, but his whispered promise spoke of more than simple flirtation. It spoke of longing and need and a desire for a future.
With her.
She’d stopped thinking of any future that didn’t involve long hours at work and mason jars full of soup.
His face was so close. His lips, so tempting. All she needed to do was lean forward and taste him. God only knew she’d thought of little else since their kiss.
Emily parted her lips, sucking in a breath to make herself bold.
Just like that, he slid away, stepping back. “Anyway, I hope I’ve made my intentions clear. Let me wash these dishes for you. I wouldn’t want your soup tureen to get all crusty.” His mouth quirked in a half-smile. He headed back to the table to collect the remaining dirty plates and cutlery.
Emily stood still, unable to move. He’d been so close, a hair’s breadth away, and her body practically groaned when he walked away from her. He’d left her feeling bereft and hollow, and all too aware of the space between them. She didn’t credit Michael with playing silly games, but he’d certainly played a masterful move in not kissing her.
Because now she wanted to kiss him more than ever.
Chapter Eleven
Michael beat Emily to the work site the next morning. Early on in their acquaintance, Emily had confessed her love of strong coffee. It was one of the things he liked about her. On his way to the renovation site, he picked up an especially strong brew, one the barista promised would make him see visions of Juan Valdez.
Within minutes, she pulled up in her compact car. He almost expected to see Trent veer up behind her, but of course it didn’t happen. Still, he had no illusions. The man would try again and he intended to be there to greet him.
Michael approached her car and smiled. When she got out, he held out the coffee. “I thought some caffeine might be appreciated.”
“Thanks. You have no idea how much I appreciate caffeine right now.” Had Trent been bothering her? Or was it possible she’d been up all night, thinking about Michael’s declarations? He didn’t want her to lose sleep, but the perverse side of him liked knowing she obsessed over him as much as he obsessed over her. She took the proffered cup, sipped and sighed. “Two creams, two sugars. You remembered.”
“Do I look like the sort of man who’d forget a woman’s coffee preferences?” He sipped his own, unable to look away from her lips as she drank some more. “Rough night?”
She touched the skin under her eyes. “It’s that obvious, huh? It wasn’t the greatest sleep I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, yeah? Something keep you up?”
She narrowed her eyes and treated him to a hint of a smile. “You know damn well what kept me up, Michael Zorn.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean. I’m just drinking my coffee, an innocent bystander.”
“There’s nothing innocent about you.” She gripped her cup with two hands and sighed. “Thank you again for installing my new lock. That was very sweet of you.”
“Just taking precautions.”
“I’m sure I’ve heard the last of Trent.”
“Yeah, probably.” No way. He didn’t believe it for a second. “Still, nothing wrong with being safe. If you ever have issues with Trent or anyone else, I want you to call me, Em. I mean it.”
“My brother lives close by as well.”
“I know, but I want to be there for you. I can come over whenever you want, even just to keep you company.”
“Michael, you have a life. I can’t expect—”
“Yes, you can expect it. I meant what I said last night. I care for you, Em. I don’t ever want you to feel alone. Do you promise you’ll call me if you have any problems?”
“I promise.”
“Good.”
A couple of other cars began to drive up. Members of the crew.
Emily glanced at them, her brow furrowed. “People have been asking about Trent. Everyone must be wondering what happened to him.”
“Don’t give them a thought.” None of them had liked Trent anyway, but Michael refrained from adding that comment. “I’m proud of you. You’re standing your ground.”
“I’ve had moments of weakness, believe me.”
Which was why he’d stay close to her, to make sure she didn’t succumb. She didn’t need a man like Trent Andrews in her life. Michael would get her through the heartache and show her there were men out there who were worth her time and energy. He’d show her she could take a chance on him and not regret it.
If Michael had his way, he’d be Emily’s rock and her greatest weakness.
She held her head high. “Thanks for the coffee, by the way. I’m determined to get through this. There’s a lesson to be learned here. I’m trying hard to figure out what it might be.”
“You’re a force of nature, you know that? I have a feeling Nonna Olivia approves.”
“She never liked Trent either. I should have listened to her.” As a couple of the crew members walked past, she walked into the house with them. “See you inside, Michael.”
He held back whe
n a familiar car parked down the street. It was Blake, one of the security guys connected to the show. Michael had called him yesterday and asked him to come to Beatrice Street for the duration of the shoot. He met him on the sidewalk and handed him a photo of Trent, the one Lacey had distributed in their initial meetings. “I want you to tell me if this guy shows up.”
“Is the cute blonde his fiancé?”
“Ex-fiancé. I want to know if he comes anywhere near the set. I don’t want him near Emily.”
“You got it, boss.”
Michael liked Blake. He didn’t ask questions. He just did the job.
He waited a few minutes before walking into the house. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but Trent had rubbed him the wrong way since day one. Michael’s hackles hadn’t been so raised since the day he’d walked out of Jane Ashton’s basement into a nightmare.
The vision intruded again, hurling him once more into that moment. He’d heard the shouting from downstairs, but because Jane ran a daycare, he’d thought she’d turned on the TV. He realized quickly enough that it was her voice and that a man’s voice had joined the fray.
‘Henry, don’t, please,’ she’d begged. ‘Put the gun away. You’re scaring the children.’
Henry Ashton’s reply had been devoid of emotion. ‘Why did you leave, Janey? You were my everything. This is all your fault. Whatever happens here today, it’s all on your head. I’ll make you regret leaving me. I’ll make you pay.’
Aghast, Michael had raced up the basement stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible, knowing he was Jane’s only hope.
When his foot had hit the fifth step, the shot had rung out. He didn’t think he’d ever heard such a horrible, ear-cracking sound.
The children’s cries, erupting a second later, had been worse. The sound of their screams would become the soundtrack of his night terrors.
Somehow, he’d kept going, walking carefully on Jane’s ceramic kitchen floor, knowing he needed to catch Henry unawares, and that he needed to do it soon. Michael hadn’t been contemplating heroism that day. Adrenalin had taken over his body. Although everything in him had screamed at him to exit out of the back door, he’d known he had no choice. He might die there, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight, not if he could help Jane and those kids.