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The way Dan Taylor stared at me, with a look full of dark rage and possibly even hate, had me concerned that he might try to start something. I tried to put myself in his shoes, to see the man who'd watched your daughter grow up start sleeping with her. I tried to feel what he might be feeling and just couldn't. I imagine there would be a lot of anger there, possibly even enough to pick a fight. Dan had never seemed like the type to lose his temper easily, let alone start a brawl in the street. Still, you could never be too sure when it came to a man's daughter, so I got my kids moving, getting them to the house as quickly as possible. Better safe than sorry. As we headed toward the front door, I also found it hard to look at him, knowing what I'd done with his daughter the night before.
Ushering the kids inside, I was relieved once we were out of his sight. I didn't want any trouble, not with him, not with anyone. I just wanted to be happy. And why should it be so wrong that Emma was the one who made me happy? I struggled with her age more than anybody, even Dan, would ever know. Dr. Miller had raised some good points though and had made me see some things differently.
I felt myself slowly beginning to open up to the possibility of having something more with Emma. My biggest fear was that it would ignite a war with her family, and as tough as that would be for me, it would be a hundred times tougher on her.
ooo000ooo
The kids were in bed when Emma softly knocked on my door. She wasn't dressed up this time, but she still looked beautiful. She was wearing her usual sundress and flipflops, very little makeup, and had her hair back in a ponytail. She was casual, but she was still stunning nonetheless.
“We need to talk,” she said, stepping inside as soon as I opened the door. “My dad knows about us.”
As soon as she said those words, my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. That explained the look of sheer hate and hostility on his face earlier. My worst fears were starting to come true and I was suddenly overwhelmed by the stress and anxiety of it all.
“What? How?” I asked.
“Okay, he doesn't actually know anything. Not the specifics, anyway,” she said, flopping down on my couch. “But he suspects it. He's pretty sure something happened between us, and he's pissed.”
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. It was just what I'd been worried was going to happen if Emma and I slept together. But as I stared over at her, saw the look on her face, I still didn't regret it. Not one little bit. She was worried, obviously, but I also saw a light of defiance in her eyes. She held her head up and was calm. She had a strength that belied her years, a strength that said she would deal with the fallout and that nobody was going to tell her what she could and could not do with her life.
“Okay, so what are we going to do?” I asked.
“What can we do?” she said, shrugging. “He won't listen to me. I can sit there and tell him that I'm adult and can make my own choices until I'm blue in the face and it won't matter to him. I'm just tired of it. It's not like we're fucking under his roof or anything.”
Yeah, just right next door. I sat down next to her, placing my hand on her thigh instinctively, protectively. She put her hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.
She looked up at me, sadness in her pretty blue eyes, “I understand if you want to stop, Marcus,” she said. “I don't want to make things difficult for you. But just know that I'm not going to let my father or anybody else dictate what I do or who I choose to spend my time with.”
“I don't want things to be difficult for you, Emma,” I said. “That's what this is all about. My hesitation, my doubt, it's about protecting you, making sure you're not at war with your parents since you have to live under their roof.”
“I appreciate that, Marcus, I do. But I don't want to stop,” she said, leaning into my hand. “I don't want to stop seeing you. I care for you and nobody is going to make me regret the time we've shared. And they certainly aren't going to keep me from seeing you any damn time I want. ”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I admitted.
“Really?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye. “You mean that?”
“I do,” I said. I kissed her on the forehead and held her close.
“So, we can keep seeing each other? Even if my dad's a dick about it?”
With a sigh, I nodded and said, “Of course. As long as you want to, that is,” I said. “But the minute this gets to be too intense or too much for you, you have to tell me, Emma. I don't want you shouldering that burden alone. If it starts to weigh on you, tell me. We'll decide what to do at that point together.”
“I do want it. You make me so happy, I love being with you. And I promise to tell you if things start getting to be too much.”
And I loved being with her too. Both in the bedroom and out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EMMA
Marcus walked me to the door and kissed me goodnight. He held me close, actually hugged me. I felt so safe and so secure wrapped up in his arms and it felt wonderful. And for a moment, I wondered if maybe we were more than just neighbors with benefits. I found myself wondering if maybe whatever it was between us could be more than just the sex, if there was a deeper emotional attachment that was forming between us.
Of course, I didn't want to rush things or let my emotions get in the way, but I was hopeful. Maybe this would lead somewhere and maybe it wouldn't. But the fact of the matter was, I wanted it to go somewhere. I wanted to be with Marcus and not just sexually. He sparked something deep within me that no other man ever had before. And I wanted to explore that with him.
“It'll be okay,” he said to me, whispering it softly in my ear.
It was a beautiful moment and one I didn't want to end. But, as my luck would have it, my dad picked just that moment to ruin it all. As Marcus held me close, I heard my dad's voice call out.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
