Break Away (The Baltimore Banners Book 5) (18 page)

JP stepped into the kitchen then stopped, resting his shoulder against the doorframe. Warm scents filled the open area: fresh roasted coffee, eggs, bacon. He closed his eyes and breathed in then opened his eyes again. A smile stretched his lips as his gaze landed on the one sight guaranteed to stir his hunger like no food ever could.

Emily was standing at the stove, her back to him, using tongs to pull thick strips of bacon from a frying pan and place them on a towel-lined plate. She was wearing one of his long-sleeved t-shirts, the material covering her almost to her knees. He drank in the sight of her, from the sleep-tousled length of her wavy hair to the toes of her bare feet, back to the firm swell of her ass, molded so deliciously by the cotton material of his shirt.

Her bare ass, because her clothes were still resting in a haphazard pile on the floor of his bedroom, tangled with his own.

"Are you going to stand there and stare all morning, or are you going to eat?" She looked over her shoulder at him, her smile bright, still a little sleepy. He swallowed as blood rushed south, then groaned when he realized it was hopeless.

There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about his growing hard-on. At least, not yet.

"Depends on what’s on the menu."

Emily placed the last of the bacon on the plate then turned and leaned against the counter, her eyes slowly raking the front of him before stopping at his crotch. She lifted her gaze to his and gave him another smile, this one more teasing.

"Breakfast. You have practice, and I need to go apartment hunting."

JP’s mood dimmed. He pushed away from the doorframe and moved to the counter, scooping eggs and bacon and toast onto his plate. Emily handed him a mug of coffee then took her own plate and mug over to the center island and settled onto a stool. JP sat across from her. But instead of digging into the breakfast, he propped his elbows on the counter and just watched her.

"Don’t you work today?"

"I took the day off. They know I’m looking for a new place, so it’s not a big deal. Besides, I’ll work on some stuff later tonight from home. I mean, the hotel."

"Yeah. About that." JP took a hefty swig of coffee then put the cup down. "You don’t need to stay at the hotel or look for an apartment. You can stay here."

"You mean move in with you."

"Well, yeah."

Emily stabbed at a small pile of scrambled egg with her fork but didn’t take a bite. She finally put the fork down then looked over at him, her blue eyes dark and thoughtful. Then she gave him a small smile and shook her head.

"No."

"No?" JP repeated the word, just in case he heard wrong. He must have heard wrong. "Why not?"

"Because it’s too soon, JP."

"Too soon? But—what about last night?"

"What about it?"

"You know. When I told you—" He paused, forced himself to swallow and take a deep breath. Why was it so much harder to say in the light of day? With Emily sitting across from him, watching him with that teasing smile?
Imbécile
! It shouldn’t be harder.

He took another deep breath, ignoring the heavy beat of his pulse, and met her eyes with his own steady gaze. "I love you,
Emilie
."

The expression in her eyes softened and her smile broadened, lighting her whole face with a soft glow. "I love you, too. But I’m not moving in."

JP blinked, not sure he heard her correctly. But no, he did. He watched her eat for a minute, not sure what else to say, then muttered a string of French cursing beneath his breath as he attacked his eggs with the fork. Her laughter stopped him mid-stab and he looked up, not bothering to hide his frown.

"Why is it that I have no trouble understanding the swear words, even after all this time?"

JP looked away, surprised to feel his face heat in embarrassment. He mumbled an apology then sat there, staring at his food. It made no sense. Why wouldn’t she move in with him?

Her hand closed over his, squeezing, and he finally looked up at her. "It’s too soon, JP. We haven’t been together long enough to move in together. We still need to get to know each other again, to figure out what we want."

"I know what I want." JP cringed at the pouting tone in his voice, knowing he sounded like a spoiled child. He sighed, ignoring Emily’s small laugh, and thought of another argument he could use. "What if you’re pregnant?"

"I’m not pregnant, JP."

"Last night, we didn’t use anything. You could be—"

"JP." She leaned across the counter and squeezed his hand again, giving him a small smile that let him know she knew exactly what he was doing. "The timing’s wrong. I’m not pregnant. And even if I was…we didn’t live together before, did we?"

"That was before. This is different." He didn’t know how it was different, only that it was. He wanted her with him. To fall asleep in her arms at night and to wake in her arms in the morning. Didn’t she understand that?

Maybe she did, if the expression in her eyes was any indication. But she didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hand once more and gave him a small smile.

"There are other things I need to figure out, other things I need to take care of first."

"Like what?"

"Like my sister." Emily looked away, but not before he saw the sadness creep into her eyes. Guilt swept through him, its weight heavy and accusing in his chest. How selfish was he, that he could so quickly forget? He took a deep breath, trying to dislodge the knot in his stomach.

"It was because of me, eh? The reason you moved out?"

"JP—"

"Tell me. Please."

Emily toyed with her fork, spinning it back and forth for a few minutes as she stared at it. She finally took a deep breath and let it out, slow, steady. "It’s not just because of you, JP. I told you the other night there were other things going on."

"Yes, but it would not have happened without me. True?"

"JP, it’s not that simple. It’s—Monica's marriage was…it wasn't a good one. And the divorce really messed up Monica. It doesn’t help that her ex is a total waste. But she changed. She…I don’t know. She’s harder, maybe a little bitter. And she doesn’t trust anyone."

"Especially me?"

Emily looked up at him, her eyes sad. "Men, JP. She doesn’t trust men. She thinks they’re all like her ex. And yeah, I don’t think it helps that you and I—that we—have a history. But it’s not just you. Please don’t think that."

JP nodded, not sure what else to say. But the guilt stayed with him, all through breakfast, even as he cleaned up while Emily showered. And it was still with him when he took her back to the ridiculous hotel. At least he was able to talk Emily into agreeing not to rush into getting an apartment. At least, not yet. He knew she wasn’t happy, that she suspected of him trying something. But she didn’t question him, just silently nodded her agreement before going up to her room.

At least she trusted him that much, he thought. Which was a good thing, because while he wanted to do something, he didn’t have any idea what he could do.

Not until after practice, as he was showering and getting ready to head home. And even as the idea came to him, he tried dismissing it. It was a bad idea. An idea that could completely backfire on him and only make things worse.

But he didn’t know what else to do, only knew he had to try something.

And he hoped like hell that it didn’t blow up in his face when he tried.

The rink was cold and dim, part of it shrouded in shadows because only half the lights were lit. Déjà vu crept through him as he stepped closer to the ice and he wondered once more why the hell they couldn’t use all the lights at these practices.

But he wasn’t here for the lights. He wasn’t even here for practice. At least, not in that sense. He looked around the rink, searching for one familiar face. Was she even here? JP realized she might not be. Emily was back at her hotel room, working. No, pretending to work. It was Thursday. Normally she’d be at practice with Taylor. But not tonight. Tonight, Taylor’s mother was taking her to practice.

At least, that’s what Emily said. JP realized it might not be true, that maybe her sister only told her that but had every intention of keeping Taylor home instead. He hoped not, hoped he wasn’t the cause of yet another disappointment.

His eyes scanned the different faces in the crowd, searching for a young girl with light brown hair and a toothless smile. There, over by the bench, struggling to get her skate on. A woman was bent down, trying to help. Even from where he was standing, JP could see the rigid set to the woman’s shoulders, see the frustration in her stiff posture. And Taylor wasn’t smiling. In fact, Taylor looked miserable, like she didn’t even want to be there.

JP took a deep breath and jammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Hoping he looked nonchalant, like he just happened to be there for no reason, he strolled over, a forced smile on his face.

"Hey,
ma lutine
. I did not expect to see you here."

Taylor turned toward him, her toothless smile lighting her face. "John Peer! What are you doing here? Is Aunt Emily with you?"

Fuck. He hadn’t thought about that. Hadn’t stop to consider that maybe Taylor would expect Emily to be with him. He paused, not quite sure what to say, not when the woman bent over Taylor’s skate turned and leveled a look of cold hostility at him.

JP smiled again, hoping Taylor wouldn’t see how forced it was, and reached out to ruffle her hair. "No, I’m afraid not, squirt. She’s working. But she told me to tell you she says hi."

Not a complete lie, since he was sure Emily would have told him such a thing—if she knew he was going to be here.

Taylor’s smile faltered, her small shoulders sagging in disappointment. Her mother didn’t say anything, just kept looking at him with that angry expression as she fought with the laces of Taylor’s skate. JP shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then ran a hand through his hair.

Now what?

"Still having trouble with that skate, I see. Need a hand?"

Taylor nodded and swung her foot toward him, earning a look of displeasure from her mother. JP ignored it and bent down, his fingers making quick work of loosening the laces so she could get her foot in all the way. He pulled the laces tight, wrapping the excess around the top of the boot and tying them before tucking the ends in. He double-checked the laces of her other skate then patted her on the shoulder. "There, all set."

"Thanks John Peer." Taylor jumped from the bench and gave him a quick hug, then grabbed her stick and headed for the ice. JP stood there, his hands by his side, fighting the urge to fidget as Taylor’s mom stared at him.

She looked like an older version of Emily. Shorter hair, a little darker. Her eyes were the same shape but the color was different, the blue reminding him of stormy seas. Her face was sharper and there was an edge to her that let him know she rarely smiled. Her lips compressed in a tight line as she crossed her arms in front of her and watched him with narrowed eyes.

JP shifted, uncomfortable under her cold scrutiny.  They had been introduced once before, but the introduction had been hurried, too short. Maybe a formal one would set the woman at ease. Or at least lessen her frown. He thought about extending his hand then reconsidered. "I’m Jean-Pierre Larocque."

"I know who you are."

JP nodded, not sure what to say. His gaze moved to the players on the ice and he stood there for a few minutes, watching. "Your daughter is very talented."

The woman didn’t say anything, didn’t even look over at the ice. A long minute went by before she spoke, her voice as chilled as the air in the rink. "Why are you here?"

"I came to talk about your sister. About Emily."

"Tired of her already?"

"Excuse me?" JP actually took a step back, her words a verbal punch. He jammed his hands into his pockets and narrowed his eyes. Her face paled, just a little, enough to assure him that she realized he didn’t appreciate her words. "I came to apologize for coming between you and Emily. That was not my intention."

"Really?" Her cool gaze drifted over him, from his face to his shoes and back up again. She shrugged and looked away. "She made her choice."

"It wasn’t a choice she should have had to make. You’re her sister. Do you really feel that way?"

"She was the one who moved out. Now if you’ll excuse me—"

JP didn’t think, just reached out to grab her arm. He didn’t expect her to shrink away, didn’t expect the look of fear that crossed her face, almost too fast to see. But he did see, and felt nausea well in his gut. He dropped her arm and stepped back, swallowing the bitter acid that worked its way into his mouth. He ran a hand through his hair, swallowed again. "I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—"

Monica shook her head, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle, her lips pressed more tightly together. But she didn’t say anything, barely even acknowledged him.

JP blinked and looked out at the ice, something close to horror filling him. Just that small movement, that brief glance, was enough to tell him…too much. "I’m not your ex-husband. I would never hurt Emily."

"But you did. Five years ago. You weren’t there, you didn’t see what she went through. I was. I was the one who was with her when she miscarried, the one who held her when she cried after losing it."

Anger, swift and biting, shot through him. How could she be so cold? So unfeeling? "Not
it
.
Her
. Gabriella Jeane Larocque. She was my daughter, our daughter, not an ‘it’."

"You think I should be impressed you know her name? Well, I’m not, Mr. Larocque. So take your empty words and leave. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces when you break Emily’s heart. Again."

"I’m not going anywhere."

"Aren’t you?" She raked him with that cold stare again, her eyes flat, emotionless. "It’s just a matter of time. It always is."

"You can’t judge everyone based on your own experience."

"Is that what you think I’m doing?" She laughed, the sound harsh and brittle. "I’m not. I’m judging you on
your
past actions."

"I love Emily. I’m not going anywhere."

"I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you. I know about you. About your reputation, about all the women you’ve been with. You’re a player, Mr. Larocque. I tried telling Emily that but she’s too naïve to believe me. So I’ll do what I do best, and let her make her mistakes, then help her pick up the pieces of her life. Again."

JP watched her for a long minute, then gazed out at the ice. Emotions warred inside him. Guilt, again. Anger. Fear. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sounds around him. Was she right? Would he hurt Emily again?

An image formed in his mind, of Emily’s smile, of her deep blue eyes pulling him in, reassuring him. The sound of her laughter filled his ears, clear and pure. His heart raced in his chest as warmth spread throughout him, calming, peaceful. He shook his head and opened his eyes, then faced her sister once more.

"You’re wrong. I’ve made mistakes in the past. We all have. But I love Emily. She’s the better half of me. And I will never do anything to hurt her. I’m sorry you don’t believe that." JP stepped past her, tempted to keep walking. But he stopped. He had come here for another reason, he couldn’t leave until he was done.

Thinking he’d probably regret it, he turned back to Monica, surprised at the glimpse of emotion he saw on her face before she dropped that cold mask back in place. He pulled out the small card from his back pocket and dropped it on top of Taylor’s gear bag. "We’re having a get-together at my house on Christmas Eve. Seven o’clock. Nothing fancy. You and Taylor are both invited. I know Emily would love for both of you to be there. Especially Taylor. She misses her niece."

JP didn’t wait for her response, knowing he wouldn’t get one. He had done what he came here to do and had learned too much in the process. He turned and walked out, feeling the burn of stormy gray eyes in the middle of his back long after he pushed through the doors.