Page 46 of Speak from the Heart

Why wouldn’t someone pick her? I’d pick her a million times over.

“It’s because you’re pushy,” I tease, hoping to break the tension. Instantly, I realize it was a poor choice of words.

“I never push anyone into relationships with me. In fact, I’m typically the first to walk away.” She sits straighter, speaking like it’s a badge of honor, but then realizes what she said. My wife left me. “Only that really doesn’t happen often.” She swallows like there’s something she isn’t saying, and I don’t ask. I don’t want to know her dating history.

“Never been in love then?” The words taste bitter as I ask. I don’t want to consider her loving someone who left her, but with all the love she seems to give, I can’t believe someone didn’t grab at it.

Are you willing to grab at that? my heart asks, and the immediate answer is no way. I’ll never fall in love again.

Then another thought occurs. Might be too late for that statement, pal.

My eyes trace the lines of her face. The sweetness of her cheeks. The rosy pink to her lips. The brilliance to her blue eyes. But it’s more than her beauty. She’s taming the Beast within me. I’m rough, and I know it. I’m protective and closed off because of Katie, but Emily has opened the door, just a bit, just enough that light has begun to seep in, and I’m curious when I should be cautious. I can’t fall in love with her.

“Can’t say it’s truly happened, no.” She’s back to staring at the firepit, and I hate the tension surrounding us. The night feels off, when all I wanted was to just relax with her, bring her into the fold of my family since she’s missing most of hers. She’s mentioned her sister, Grace, and Grace’s impending delivery. It must be hard to be away from her best friend. Tom is mine. Gavin Scott used to be. And I admit it was difficult to be away from those friendships for so long. Now I’m back near Tom, working with him every day.

Reaching for her hand, I lift it to my lips and press a lingering kiss to her knuckles. I don’t want to fight with her.

“So tell me something else about yourself, Emily Post of Chicago. What’s your favorite movie?” If I can’t have her heart, because I can’t give her mine, I can at least learn a little more about her. Playing twenty questions seems to be the way to do it.

+ + +

The night wears on, and I admit I can’t shake the funk from earlier. I think about Gabe and the fact he hit on her, and her mention of never being picked and not falling in love. I’m all twisted up over this woman, and I end up drinking too much. It’s a given I can’t drive home. I’ll likely crash at Tom’s since he has room, and Katie loves to spend the night here.

When Emily hints it’s time for her to leave, I walk her out to her car. I’m supposed to go to her place tomorrow and discuss the sink. I’ve found some options, but I’m starting to think a full kitchen renovation might suit the house better. I don’t like the possibility she might sell or even rent. If she can design the place the way she wants, she might stay.

Right, dude. Like she’ll stay because she loves a new kitchen sink.

It’s worth a shot, but I’m not really in the frame of mind to think such things as I walk her out to the street.

“Wow, it’s so dark here,” she marvels, looking up at the sky. “No streetlights to lead the way.”

“No bright lights for my big city girl,” I tease, tugging her to me, settling her between my spread legs as I lean back against her driver’s side door, blocking her entrance. I want to tug her into the back seat and fuck her six ways to Sunday, erasing any thoughts of Gabe and the assholes who didn’t love her and then restore the afterglow of last night. However, I have had too much to drink.

She leans against me, arms tucked between us, so her chest doesn’t fall against mine. It’s defensive, and I’d call her out on it if she wasn’t playing with the collar of my T-shirt, stroking her fingers along the neckline. It feels nice. I like when she touches me. She isn’t afraid to go for what she wants. I don’t need to be king of the bedroom, so I have no problem bowing to a queen.

“You smell like mosquito spray,” I whisper, nuzzling my nose into her neck, trying to inhale her real scent of rain showers and sunshine. The scent overwhelmed me when I had her in my truck the day I picked her up with her groceries, and it hasn’t left my senses.

“You doused me in it,” she says, referring to the repellent.

“Oh, yeah. I think I missed a spot.” I press a kiss to her neck, and she tilts her head to give me better access. I like how she responds to me.

“I also think I missed one here,” I say, reaching for the collar of her dress and tugging it to the side, nipping just below her throat. While most people had on jeans or shorts tonight, Emily showed up in a dress. The floral print is too colorful, but it’s all her. She’s brightness.

“And here,” I whisper, leaning in for her lips.

Suddenly, a high-pitched voice screeches, “What is this?”

Fuck.

I turn my head with Emily still between my legs.

“Jess?” The female comes into view, but I don’t need to see her to know who it is.

“Sami,” I reply, choking on her name. I’ve told her I no longer want to keep hooking up, that we could still be friends but no longer with benefits. She clearly didn’t get the memo and called the other night to meet up.

“Is this why you couldn’t come over the other night?” She eyes Emily, who’s trying to wiggle from my grasp. Suddenly, my own limbs feel heavy as if all I’ve had to drink slams into me at once.

I hold tight to Emily’s hips as she tries to step away. “No,” I command her.

“I think I should go,” she whispers, her head ducking.

Sami has no boundaries, and she saunters right up to my side while I’m still holding Emily. Only Emily gives me a firm shove, breaking our connection. She stumbles back.

“No,” I respond, reaching for her, but she takes another step away, giving Sami the leverage she wants. Sami slips in front me, pressing her body to mine and blocking out Emily.

“Jess.” My former lover grips my face, so I’m forced to look into the dark eyes of a woman I’ve spent too much time with over the last year. “It’s me. You don’t need that.”

When her head tilts, I know she means Emily. She’s so wrong, though.

I hear Emily mutter, “It’s always the next girl.”

No, no, this is not that!

I push at Sami’s hips, hoping to move her off me and away from Emily. Only Sami does what Sami does, and her lips land on mine. In the time it takes me to spin and fight Sami off me, Emily has slipped into her car. The engine starts, and the doors lock. I push Sami back and reach for Emily’s window, flattening my palm against the glass.

My heart screams, don’t leave, but I haven’t given her a reason to stay.

This is a shit storm, and it’s all my fault.