Page 46 of Tempting Fate

Not that I’m listening. Eavesdropping. That would be rude.

I hand him a cup of tea and Em makes no move to go back into the living room. He sips it instead, letting out a contented hum as the liquid slips down his throat. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

“Got distracted by work?”

“Something like that.” Em studies me. “You didn’t answer me, though. The good mood?”

My grin erupts again, and it must be infectious because Em smiles right back. “I got the job!”

His smile wobbles but doesn’t fall, and my heart beats a little faster. Oh, it’s so difficult not to want him. Just like Patch, really. What would he think of all this? He knows how I feel about my job, though I never told him I was looking for anything else.

“So, you’re leaving?”

“That’s the best part. Looks like the company is expanding, or something, so I can stay based here. I guess I’ll have to go to Edinburgh from time to time, or other places, I don’t know, but I’ll be here pretty often.”

Now Em’s smile looks real again. “That is good news.”

“He’s going to call me back on Monday. I’ve got the weekend to think it over, but I already know what I’m going to say.” I laugh. “The salary is ridiculous. I’ll have to work my notice at my current job, but that’s only a month. I’ll manage it.”

“I’ve no doubt.” Em sets his cup down carefully and when he moves closer, my breath catches. I tip my head back to look up into his face. He doesn’t have the same physical presence as Patch, not being nearly as broad, but energy crackles between us and it has my knees weak all the same. “You deserve good things, Jamie.”

“So do you,” I breathe.

Will he kiss me? I think he wants to. His gaze falls to my mouth and stays and when my lips part, he licks his own in what has to be an unconscious movement.

We can’t. Patch might be okay with one fuckup, but we can’t make it a pattern. Not now. Not here. Not when no one is around to stop us.

Em seems to come to the same conclusion as me. Maybe he reads it from my face. I don’t know. Still, he reaches out and cups my cheek, just for a second, and I lean into that touch, just for a second, too.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asks, moving back, and cool air rushes in between us, making my skin feel too hot.

“I-I don’t…”

“Let’s order in. My treat.” Em’s still looking at me too seriously underneath the heat and the want, and I want to ask if something has happened, but I don’t see what could have changed since I left this morning.

He crosses to the kitchen door and, when I don’t move, he glances back.

“Come on,” he says, smiling. “We’ll order pizza or something when Nick gets here. Let’s watch TV for a bit?”

I take a step forward on legs that feel like jelly. “Y-yeah, okay.”