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EMILIA
“Hurts like a mother fucker,” Emilia Emerson mumbled as she stepped into her house. “’Just a few boxes,’ she said. ‘Won’t take long’, my ass.”
Christ, she was in a foul mood. Had been for weeks, if she was honest. The effort to hide it from her closest friends, to put on her usual bubbly smile, was really starting to drag her down. And today she should be happy. One of her closest friends, her cousin Mia, was moving out, so that she could shack up with the gorgeous Jack Sullivan. It had been a whirlwind romance and Mia had worn a serious glow ever since Jack announced, in front of their whole office, that he was madly in love with her. Emilia was happy for Mia. She really was. It was herself she wasn’t happy for because she couldn’t let go of that gnawing sense that she was being left behind. Like everyone else had their lives together, and she was just a bimbo loser. Nothing more than a pretty face.
And now, to top it all off, she’d jammed her finger underneath a box while putting it in the Movers van.Just great, Emerson,she scolded herself, while going through the first aid drawer in the kitchen.
“You want some help?” The low, decidedly male voice in a house where only women lived made Emilia jump, almost out of her skin.
“Jesus H Christ!” She spun on her heel and stared into the most amazing green eyes she’d ever seen. She all but felt the breath whoosh out of her lungs, and she didn’t miss the grin on his face.
“Jesus H Christ?” His laugh was low and warm. And sexy, Emilia was forced to admit. “What are you, fifty?”
Emilia blinked. She was not used to being spoken to like that. In fact, she was used to men getting a little tongue tied around her at first, then moving quickly onto propositioning her. The fact that this extremely handsome movers was obviously laughing at her, and wasn’t even slightly tongue tied, sparked something inside her she couldn’t name. Irritation? No. She wasn’t irritated. Intrigue? Maybe. She took a deep breath. “I watch a lot of films and pick up a lot of my vocab from them, if you must know.” Turning, she continued to go through the drawer, looking for something to bandage her fingers together and trying to ignore the fine specimen of man that was making her spacious kitchen feel suddenly tiny.
“So, you don’t need help?”
“I could use another hand,” she held up her injured finger. “Since I can’t use this one at the moment.”
He moved forward, crowding her in, taking her hand in his and bringing the injured finger up to his face for closer inspection. Emilia felt breathless again for the second time in five minutes. He was huge, with broad shoulders perfectly outlined under the tight white shirt he was wearing. And he smelled fantastic, despite the heat outside and the physical work they were doing.
Emilia had noticed him as soon as the movers had pulled up. He’d been the first to step out of the van, and the sun had beaten down on his chestnut hair. She’d caught a glimpse of it before he’d hidden it under his work cap.
Keeping her eyes on the contents of the drawer, Emilia felt a spark run down her arm from his touch. It took all her self-control not to turn her body towards his, to look up in those gorgeous green bedroom eyes.
“You need to ice this,” he said, dropping her hand. “Bandages won’t help until after. You’ve sprained it.”
“Thanks, Dr. Mover and Packer, but I didn’t ask you about the injury.” Emilia made no attempt to hide the pissiness in her tone.
“I know you didn’t,” she could hear the smile in his voice, which surprised her again. So far, nothing about this man was predictable. “But you need to ice it anyway, or it’s gonna hurt like hell tomorrow.”
Because she felt even more thrown off her balance, Emilia pulled away from him and moved towards the freezer. Usually, she would be flirting endlessly with this guy. But there was just something about him…that got to her. It made her feel uncomfortable, another thing she wasn’t used to feeling with a man. She needed to put him at arm’s length, stat.
Looking into the freezer, she couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. There were plenty of items in there that would have been more suitable for an already-swollen finger. Ignoring all of them, she pulled a twelve-inch box of frozen pizza out and turned around to face him with an innocent grin.
“Will this do?” She held it up and waved it in front of him, surprised at the heat that shot straight through her at the sound of his laughter. He moved in towards her again, took her injured hand gently in his before leading her back to the counter. He placed her hand on the counter, the expression on his face one of utter concentration. Then, smirking, he put the pizza on top of her hand and looked at her, obviously utterly pleased with himself.
“Yep! Should work fine. You just have to stand there at the counter, stuck under that pizza, until your finger’s cooled properly. Want some company?”
“That was awfully sneaky,” Emilia said, stunned to have been out-smarted so charmingly.
“I’m a sneaky guy.”
“Obviously.”
“So, what’s your name?”
“Urgh, for someone who just manipulated me to stay put under a frozen pizza, that’s not a very original opening line. Disappointing.” Suddenly, she was feeling lighter than she had in weeks. This was getting ridiculous.
“See,” he started. Emilia noticed his eyes sparkling as he looked down at her. They’d darkened a bit and she knew if she wasn’t careful, she could get lost in them. “I think the start of any conversation should be introductions, but we seem to have missed that part so now we have to circle back.”
“Oh no, now you’ve done something terrible! I work in an office, Hunky Movers Guy, please don’t say ‘circle back’. For me, that’s just another unnecessary meeting.”
“You think I’m hunky?”
A laugh escaped her despite herself. “What, like that’s news?”
“To be honest, no one’s ever just come out and said it before.”
