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“Yes. His name is Chris. Sorry, I don’t mean to talk about him.” She tucked a curl behind her ear as the wind picked up.
I stopped at a red light and turned to look at her. Even with the windows open I could pick up her scent. Something flowery or fruity, maybe coconut. Shampoo? Whatever the hell it was it was going to drive me insane when I switched to air conditioning. “Why? He’s your son.”
“Yeah, but most guys aren’t interested in hearing about kids.”
I gripped the wheel. “Now you’re hurting my feelings. I’m not most guys, Emory.”
Even with the heat I could see her blush this time. She bit her lip, but met my gaze. “Wow, you’re right. I’m sorry.” I saw her throat work as she swallowed. “I told you I wasn’t good at this. It’s been a long time…a really long time.”
“How long is really long?” Six months? A year?
“I was nineteen when I dated Jack, my ex. That’s it. Well, since the divorce I've gone on a few—two—blind dates and they were bad.” The way she said the last led me to believe they'd turned her off dating entirely. “It's safe to say I haven't really dated in this century.”
Holy shit. How long had it been then? No guy had claimed her since her divorce? Jesus, what was wrong with the guys in this city? Hopefully their fuck up was my gain.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with a guy, so I’m probably going to mess up a lot. I’m giving you advanced warning, but you probably already knew that from the other night.”
She wasn’t a virgin, but she might as well have been, because she was so damn innocent, so…sweet that it was fucking incredible. She wasn’t playing games because she didn’t even know how. That meant it was my job to put her at ease and make her feel safe in her time with me. Safe just to be Emory and nothing else. No guile, no angles.
I gave a small head shake. “You aren’t supposed to do anything except sit there looking so damn pretty and talk to me. Okay?” The light switched to green and I shifted into gear. “How about you tell me about your job.”
She looked at me for a long moment, then leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed. “I’m a nurse practitioner. I work in the ER at University Hospital.”
“Impressive. That must be pretty intense.”
“I just started in the ER in the spring after working in hospital administration for years. It had a better schedule for dealing with a high schooler. I’d rather be hands on though with patients, so the ER is definitely the place to be now that he’s away at school.”
“Baltimore’s a rough city. I’m sure you’ve seen some bad stuff.” I paused, drummed my fingers on the wheel, thinking of the shit she saw on a daily basis. The shootings, the crackheads, the wife beaters. “That’s why you wouldn’t drink the water I gave you.”
“See, I’m not actually that crazy. I’m just experienced.” She covered her face with her hands, groaned. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I said that.”
I grinned at her slip. She was so damn sweet. “That’s good to know.”
She laughed off her mistake. “I’ve just learned a lot, the hard way.”
And that made her wise. Knowledgeable about life. It gave her so much more than all the groupies I’d ever met. Emory had lived, survived and still was so fucking innocent in so many ways. The thought that a guy like me might touch her and tarnish her, to wear that innocence away had me downshifting and snapping us against our seat belts around a turn.
It wasn’t just her sweetness that I was drawn to. Her ponytail whipped around from the breeze as I drove the ten minutes to my building and the scent of her shampoo—it was fucking coconut—was driving me insane. It was hard to keep my eye on the road when her toned thighs were on display. Thank God for shorts. The thoughts I had of her at the moment were anything but sweet.
“Simon seems nice,” I said, trying to make conversation when all I wanted to do was pull the car over, undo her seat belt and pull her onto my lap.
“He’s lived next door a few years now and has been a good friend. Plus, he comes in very handy. He picked out the shoes I wore the other night.”
I glanced down her legs again. This time her words allowed me the chance.
“The heels?” I remembered those shoes well and spent Friday night thinking about them. The simple flip-flops she wore now were pretty sexy, too, with those bright, shiny nails. Hell, she’d probably be sexy if she wore a burlap sack. “I need to thank him.”
She turned her head and glanced at me, but couldn’t read her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Oh?”
“Those shoes looked damn hot and he came to the game with you. More importantly, he left you alone with me. That makes him a great wingman.”
Her mouth opened and then she snapped it shut. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.” She ran her palms over her shorts. Nerves? “I brought him because I wanted to be—”
“Safe.” I finished for her, keeping my eyes on the road. “I get it. Really. If I’d turned out to be a psycho, you’d have him to get you out of there. Shows you’re really smart and I like that.”
“You think I’ve ruled you out as being psycho?” She tilted her head to look at me. Ah, she had sass, too.
I shifted my eyes from the road. “You got in the car, didn’t you?”
