Jesse's Soul (2) (9 page)

He was a man. By human nature he was supposed to fix things. He needed to help. His hands fisted in his jacket pockets as he tried to pull himself back, reining in his claim on her. The last thing she needed was
for him to go all caveman on her. If he forced her hand, he knew he’d be the one to lose. The key to Emery was going to be patience. Luckily, he had that in spades.

“Yeah, she has a way
of taking care of people. Even people that don’t think they need it.”

“Like when she made you go up to James’s place after outdoors?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’ve noticed that seemed to help.”

It was the truth, no reason to pretend otherwise. Jesse shrugged. “Like I said, even people that don’t think they need help. It was good. I love it up there.”

Reid smacked Jesse’s stomach. “I can tell.”

He didn’t flinch, but damn. Just when Jesse had forgotten all about it, Reid’s mean right hook would catch him off guard. Always in jest, but nonetheless, it was the universal manner of affection for men—roughhousing. Reid was a fun guy, laughing and joking with him and the rest of the team, just as much as he rode their asses, driving them to be the best they could be.

But he was old. He should not be excelling at the
sneak attack
anymore. Jesse had been standing within arm’s reach of the man—too close. The flick of the back of his hand against his abdomen had something behind it.

He wanted to start that?

Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Bring it...old man.”

“Who you calling old, son?”

“I hope your hand hurts.”

“Do some more sit ups and we’ll talk.”

With a snort, Jesse admitted the truth. “Yeah, I know. I think I gained fifteen pounds.”

“That’s all right, you look better now. You were getting too scrawny.”

Reid ran his hand over the back of his neck. The fear in his boss’s face dropped the temperature of the room to an uncomfortable cold.

Jesse had always had a sixth
sense when it came to bad news. Anxiety would send a rush of heat from head to toe and his stomach would drop immediately. When he was little, he knew from the moment he hit the bus stop when his ass was in trouble for something. Plus, Jesse knew his manager and friend well enough to know the signals. Gripping the back of his neck like he was right now wasn’t a good sign. Their teasing was done and Reid was serious. Jesse had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear, and he had no doubt in his mind it was regarding Emery.

“Listen, Jess, I’ve always tried to be a man who looks at life like everything happens for a reason. I know it’s affected you with Shawn leaving, but I can’t say I’m all that upset about it. I needed her here. I need her here with me so I can watch over her. And she’s good too, huh?”

He had been right as rain. It was what Reid wasn’t saying that scared the hell out him. Sure, she was a mechanic and this could be a natural place for her to be as any, but she was a grown woman. Reid’s need to
watch over
her sent a shiver up Jesse’s spine.

“I’ll admit it, she is
the best
,
like you said. I just wish she’d let me in.”

“I know, son.” Reid smiled. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. Give it time, it’ll—“

Cutting their conversation off, Emery came out in just a pair of straight-legged Levi’s and a simple white t-shirt. Still, Jesse’s jaw dropped open. He didn’t mean to stare so openly, especially in front of her father. There was just no way to help it. His brain was stuck on one thing—making sure he didn’t look like an idiot wasn’t it.

She’d been in her uniform all day, and the tight j
eans and low-cut v-neck showed off her curves where the boxy polyester team shirt and shorts did nothing to flatter her. The messy bun she’d been wearing was gone. Instead her hair reached her shoulders in loose waves and curls that could only be natural. She had on very little makeup, from what he could tell, maybe just some mascara, but it made her big green eyes pop. She had added lip gloss, but that was it. Simple, not overdone. A classic beauty without even trying.

“Wow, Em. You look really pretty.”

She barely grinned, hiding it under the guise of sleepiness. But she couldn’t control the blushing. Whether it was because of the compliment or because it was said in front of her father, he couldn’t tell. She rolled her eyes—something Jesse was getting used to. An endearing part of her that tugged at his heart.

“Sorry, I didn’t pack anything but jeans and t-shirts. I had no intentions of going someplace where I’d need anything but my team shirts or something like this.” She motioned down at her attire.

“I think you look great. And you’ve got some color back in your face.”

She cocked her head to the side. Jesse read the silent warning not to start on her, particularly in front of her dad. He just didn’t care. That part of him that needed to protect her was too strong, too big to ignore, especially after the slip her father just let him in on. Reid may have not intended for it to happen, but after their conversation a moment before, albeit brief, Jesse now had confirmation she had a problem. He was going to help. Emery probably wouldn’t agree, but then again, he wasn’t asking.

There had been an instant attraction upon their introduction—chemical, hormonal, pheromones, whatever science wanted to break it down to. Jesse knew it wasn’t just lust and the fact he hadn’t had sex in way too many months. It wasn’t his dick, as much as it was his heart, that had taken the lead in this thing between them and he could do nothing but follow.

“What? I’ve been worried, sue me.”

“I just might. You ready?”

She grabbed her flee
ce-lined jean jacket off the chair. “What?” she questioned as she glanced back over at him.

A true
skeptic. Her curled lip and arched eyebrow made it harder than hell not to smile, but Jesse held it in the best he could.

He was playing with fire, but God she was beautiful. The chase she was sending him on was fueling the flame, making her all the more enticing.

With his tongue in his cheek, he answered, “Nothing.”

“Uh-huh. Let’s go.”

Closing the few steps to reach her dad, she kissed his cheek. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Honey, stay, have fun. Don’t rush back.”

“I want to check and make sure everything is in order before I go to bed, plus it’ll be an early morning, so I’m not staying long.”

“Everything is in order
, and no one has touched anything. If you hadn’t scared the other guys enough, I warned them myself,” Reid said.

“Great,” she shot back, “my
daddy
has to help me.”

“No, I was actually trying to spare my boys’ asses.”

“Aren’t you just the funniest man I know?” she smarted in return.

“Yep, I love you, too.”

“Uh-huh. Love you, too, Dad. See you in a little bit.”

As nice as Reid’s motorhome was, and no expense was spared, the standing room they had between the three of them wasn’t much. Jesse stepped into her personal space,
again not acknowledging the creases her questioning look caused as she pinned him with those jewel-green eyes. With his palm spread across her lower back, he ushered her toward the door, his other arm out wide for her to go first. Walking past him with a glare that screamed
warning
, he tipped his chin to let her know he was up for the challenge and planned on taking it. Her shoulder brushed his chest, the smell of Emery’s light floral perfume drifting behind her. Jesse drank it in, memorizing it.

They reached the stadium exit
, and Jesse took her jacket from her arm. “It’s chilly, let me help you, honey.”

January in
California was indeed chilly, but not like the cold she’d just left behind in Oklahoma. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was almost certain she couldn’t blame her shivers on the weather.

She tried to hold in the satisfaction she felt as he helped into her jacket, not used to having a man dote on her. It was hard to not like his attention, especially since she wasn’t blind and had noticed the head of the blonde they just passed whip around like the woman had seen Chace Crawford himself walk by.

Sue her if she felt a smug sense of pride that it had been her Jesse was helping into a coat for that other woman to see. Emery had never been the one other girls were jealous of before, and she’d probably go to hell for taking a little too much pleasure in it now.

Oops.

The reality of it sucked though, because they weren’t together, and there was no way they ever could be together in the future. Instead of letting it get her down, she pushed that depressing thought from her mind since Miss Thing didn’t know that, and went back to getting a little thrill of pretending to strangers that she was truly on Jesse’s arm for the night.

“So, anyway, why were you looking at me like that when I picked up my coat?”

“Like what?”

Oh really? Did he think she was clueless? She saw that weird look on his face. She just couldn’t decipher it. Kind of a mix of a grin and a smirk, coming across as a whole lot cocky.

“A goofy,
are you really wearing that
grin. Were you making fun of my jean jacket?”

“No. Not at all. It’s just, well, it’s…that’s more my style.”

“Huh?” She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “You wear women’s outerwear, do you?”

He snorted. “Smartass.”

Emery was pleased she could let him see a glimpse of herself without offending him. She didn’t answer, but the pride in not only her quick jab, but his even quicker retort, had her biting her lip to keep the giddiness contained.

“It was nothing…trust me.”

Yeah. Loaded—and she wasn’t buying that line.

“A little tidbit for you”—she leaned in like it was a huge secret—“that line will never work on me.”

He leaned down even closer, whispering in her ear, “It’s sort of the universal secret of dating. You’re not supposed to talk about past women to present women.”

His war
m breath near her ear tickled. She knew damn well the shiver she felt that time was not from the cold, because it shot straight south, turning into heat as it went.

Shit.

“Oh, your rule?”

“Well, it’s kind of rude, don’t you think? Seriously, you don’t really want to know.”

“I do now. Besides, we’re not dating so you’ve got no excuse. So start ‘splainin’ Ricky’.”

Evening was settling, the streetlights were lit, but even without them, it wasn’t dark enough that she couldn’t see three shades of red he was turning right before her very eyes. A blusher. Nice piece of knowledge to keep handy in her back pocket. Emery chuckled to herself. He was going to be extra fun to tease.

“
I love Lucy
fan, huh?” he asked as he guided them around a tree landscaped strategically in the middle of the sidewalk. Obnoxious, but it was pretty with the white twinkle lights.

“Yes, and you’re stalling.”

“Oh, all right. I like simple. The last girl I was with was someone I knew from high school. And just like in high school, she had to be matching everything, not a hair out of place, fake nails, and expensive clothes. Lots of bling. All of that crap. That’s not my thing. I’m more of a simple guy. We were from the same small town, but she’s one of those people that thought our small town wasn’t good enough, like she wanted to be from a big city or something. Be important. I am way too laid back for that. I like things a little more casual. Relaxing. Like I said, simple.”

His explanation took her aback. Remembering the story from Molly’s point of view and the details she had mentioned, there was no question in her mind that the girl he
was referring to was that bitch that Molly told her about. His allusion was downplayed, but his pain was still an undercurrent through the description.

Emery didn’t know if he would approve of Molly telling the tale, and she sure wasn’t going to tease back touching that subject. She knew intimately the pain of being hurt by someone she thought had her best interests at heart. It wasn’t just hollow sympathy. She could relate to it. Hell, she’d lived it—in Technicolor.

They weren’t dating, so she didn’t have to worry that he was using her as a rebound girl, plus enough time had passed that the boomerang window was now closed. That didn’t mean her heart didn’t go out to him in some way, as a human being, and okay, maybe even as a friend. However, empathy and pity were on two different ends of the spectrum completely—and she didn’t do pity.

But she could do friend. Maybe make an effort to not be so—she shuttered at the memory—icy.

Emery knew she’d shut herself down after the diagnosis. Sort of a fight or flight instinct kicking in to protect not only her, but her family. It didn’t make it hurt any less when she’d overheard the conversation at the coffee shop in town. To this day, she was pretty sure the two women in front of her didn’t realize she had been behind them at the time and that she’d heard every word. No one in town knew she’d been sick. They just assumed she had turned into a bitch and had no problem airing their assumptions as to why publically—which was exactly why she kept her privacy so guarded.