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He laughed. “You’re not the first person to trip and fall, you know.”
Her direct gaze gut-punched him. “I realize that. I still feel like a moron.”
He replaced the blanket, then leaned over and got close. “Prettiest moron I’ve ever seen.”
Her gaze caught and held his. He waited, knowing this was a really bad idea, but Emma did something to him. Maybe he was offering comfort, and maybe what he was doing was purely for his own selfish reasons.
Either way, she didn’t look scared, or pissed off.
Just . . . curious. Maybe even a little inviting.
He drew in closer.
And then the doorbell rang.
Like a pin in a balloon, the moment burst. Emma blinked, then offered up a shaky breath.
“Pizza guy.”
“Yeah.” He pushed up and went to the front door, mentally cussing out the pizza guy for having really shitty timing.
They ate, though Emma only nibbled on a couple of pieces. It was obvious her accident was wearing on her as her lids started to droop down.
“You need to go to bed.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re tired, and rest is the best thing for you. Do you have to work tomorrow?”
She laughed. “When you’re the single owner of a business, it’s not like someone else can go in for you.”
“Come on.” He pushed the recliner to a sitting position and helped her stand.
She winced. He looped an arm around her waist and led her toward her bedroom.
“You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”
“I know. I’ll make it.”
“You could always reschedule your appointments and take the day off.”
“I don’t think so. People are counting on me, and I have a reputation I’m trying to build. I’ll tough it out.”
He pulled back her covers, and she climbed into bed. He grabbed her extra pillow so she could slide it under her legs, propping up her knees. When he pulled the blanket up, he laid his hand over hers and her gaze met his.
“Would you like me to stay here tonight? Make sure you’re okay?”
“No. I’m fine, Luke, really. You’ve done more than enough already. But I appreciate it, more than you know.”
“Okay.” On impulse, he bent and brushed a kiss across her lips.
He pulled back, searched her face, her chocolate brown eyes melting him, making him want to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss her.
And the way she looked up at him was an invitation.
But she was hurt, and vulnerable, and tonight was hands-off, no matter how much her eyes said yes.
He stood. “I’m going to go get your car so you’ll have it for work tomorrow. I’ll lock the front door on my way out.”
She reached for his hand, her eyes partially closed. “Thank you, Luke. You’re my hero.”
He was nobody’s hero. Especially not hers. Not with the kinds of thoughts he was having about her right now.
“Night, Emma.”
Chapter 11
THE PAST FEW days had been brutal. Emma had come home, fed the dogs, and fallen into bed in a pained, exhausted stupor.
Her knees had finally started to form scabs, but they still ached, and being on her feet all day hadn’t helped any, though it was probably good for her to keep moving. It was just at night when she got home and finally sat down that the stiffness settled in. And since she was sore and tender, she’d been missing her regular workouts, which made her tired and grumpy.
At least she hadn’t had trouble sleeping. She was going to bed early and getting plenty of sleep, making it easy to get up in the morning.
Luke had called her the day after the accident to check on her. She’d been busy and hadn’t had much time, but enough to thank him again for taking such good care of her and to tell him she was doing fine.
She didn’t know what to make of him, so unused to a man who would look out for her the way he had.
Maybe most men were like that, and she’d just drawn the short end of the stick on her first long-term relationship, making her reluctant to ever enter another. Perhaps she was missing out. Reluctant to talk about men and relationships with friends or, God forbid, her mother, who would either push her toward Luke or worry incessantly about her because of what she’d been through with Vaughn, she had no idea what a normal man/woman relationship was like. Was Luke a typical guy, or was he an anomaly?
She decided she might broach the topic at her girls’ night out with Jane and Chelsea. They decided to forgo their typical dinner at Bert’s and, at Chelsea’s suggestion, were trying out one of the new all-you-can-eat buffets that had recently opened.
“I don’t know,” Jane said, as they pushed their trays around the different stations. “I had kind of set my mind on Bert’s biscuits and gravy tonight.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes and hip-checked Jane. “I don’t know how the hell you stay so thin, given your atrocious diet.”
“That’s easy,” Jane said with a smug smile. “Two kids, one in sports, one in dance, and a very active sex life.”
“You suck, and you’re only saying that because you know I currently have no sex life.”
“And whose fault is that?” Emma asked as they reached their table and set down their trays. “Chelsea, you’re gorgeous. I’d kill for red hair like yours. And your body? Please. I mean, I know I’m a heterosexual female, but geez. You’re built.”
Chelsea laughed. “Well, thanks. But it’s like men are afraid of me. It’s not like I’m throwing out don’t-approach-me signals. I’m very, very available, if you know what I mean.”
Jane picked up a carrot. “So you’re saying you’re advertising your wares like a slut, but no one’s buying?”
Emma nearly choked on her iced tea. “Jane. I don’t think that’s what she meant at all.”
But Chelsea just laughed. “Well, yeah, kind of like that. I mean, it’s been a very long dry spell. Men just don’t notice me.” She shrugged.
Emma shook her head. “Men are blind sometimes. Or stupid.”
“Definitely stupid if they aren’t noticing you, Chelse.”
“Y’all are good for my ego. We should go out more often.”
“I would, but it might interfere with all that sex I’m having.”
Chelsea narrowed her gaze at Jane. “I don’t remember you being such a bitch. Why are we friends again?”
Emma laughed. Being with Jane and Chelsea was good for her. They made her laugh.
“Have you heard from Molly lately?” Jane asked her.
Emma nodded. “I talked to her yesterday.”
“Still in . . . where is she now?”
“She’s still in Little Rock. It hasn’t been that long. She’s usually good for about three to six months before she has to take off.”
“How long has it been since she’s been home?” Chelsea asked, using her chopsticks to slide noodles between her lips.
Emma blew out a breath. “I can’t remember. Too long.”
“Why does she stay away? Or is that too personal a question?”
“She has a hundred reasons. Or excuses. She left kind of abruptly after high school graduation, bailed on her college of choice, even though she had a scholarship. And she’s never come back.”
“I assume you’ve asked her why.” Chelsea slid a wonton into the lively sweet red dipping sauce.
“I’ve repeatedly asked her why. She just says she changed her mind and decided she wanted an adventure instead of school. Which is fine, I mean people change their minds about education all the time. But never coming home? She’s never produced what I consider a good reason. She always tells me that home is wherever she lands, and if she came back to Hope that might signal the end of her adventures, so she’s afraid to do that. But I don’t think that’s it. I think there’s a bad memory here.”
“Something bad happened to her here?” Chelsea frowned.
Emma shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of. Or not that she ever told me, but Molly has always carried her emotions within. She wasn’t one to share. For all I know, she got fired from a job and that scarred her enough to never want to come back.”
Jane gave her a look of disbelief. “Oh, come on. That wouldn’t keep her from coming home. Did she have a guy?”
Emma nodded. “Carter Richards. Molly and Carter were inseparable from the time they were kids. God, since they were twelve up until high school graduation. Until Molly left town.”
“So they broke up when she left?”
“I guess. I was away at school during those last couple years, so I don’t really know what went down with the two of them. As far as I knew, they were still together, still madly in love. They had planned to go to the same college. Carter went to college, but Molly didn’t.”
“So maybe it was something with the two of them. Some bad breakup,” Jane suggested.
“I asked her about it, but she said her relationship with Carter had run its course, and he had nothing to do with her leaving town.”
“Do you believe her?” Chelsea asked.
Emma shrugged. “With Molly, I don’t know what to believe.”
“What about seeing your mom and dad?” Jane asked. “Ten years is a long time to be away from home.”
“They fly out to wherever she happens to live and visit her a couple times a year. And always try to convince her to come home. Or at least they used to. I think over the years they’ve stopped trying.”
“That’s just so odd,” Chelsea said.
Emma scooped rice onto her fork. “Tell me about it.”
Explaining her younger sister to people had never been an easy thing. She wished she and Molly had been tighter, that Molly felt comfortable enough to confide in her. When they were younger, they were so close, would tell each other everything. After Emma went away to college, she lost touch with Molly, which was Emma’s fault. She’d gotten wrapped up in school.
In Vaughn. And he’d taken away everything, including her relationship with her sister. And with that distance, Molly stopped confiding in her.
She’d lost so much because of him. Because of her weaknesses. Which was why she was such a bad judge of relationships.
Of men.
She pushed her plate to the side.
“How are your knees, Emma?” Jane asked.
Happy to not talk about her sister anymore, or dwell on the past, she smiled and said, “Healing. Better. Thanks.”
“Good thing you had the hot cop there to help you. Was he your knight in shining armor?” Chelsea teased.
“Actually, he was more than that. He drove me home, bandaged me up, and settled me on the sofa. Then he ordered pizza, and when I got tired, he tucked me into bed and left.”
Chelsea arched a brow. “I’m surprised he didn’t offer to sleep there.”
Emma took a sip of her tea. “Actually, he did. On the couch, in case I needed anything.”
“Aww, that was so sweet of him,” Jane said.
“It was. Just so very nice of him.” She stared down at her tea, wanting to ask the question but not wanting to appear naïve.
“Will’s like that, too. He always does things that surprise me.”
She lifted her gaze. “Does he? Like what?”
“Well, for example, the other day I got stuck with monitoring detention at school, so he picked up the kids and dropped Ryan off at baseball practice, then got Tabby ready for dance. Can you imagine Will doing Tabby’s hair? But he did, and she looked adorable. He stayed through dance class, then picked up Ryan, and had dinner on the table when I came home.”
Chelsea leaned back in the booth. “He’s a regular Prince Charming, isn’t he? Wherever did you find him?”
