Mirin, Christelle - Emma's Heart (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (8 page)

The more she thought about it, the more complicated it felt. She stopped pacing. She traced the tracks of her scar though her T-shirt with one hand while looking down at her feet. The scar ran from her collarbone to her belly button and had healed pretty well, she thought. It was ugly, but it could have been worse. She could be dead. She needed to calm down about the whole memory thing. It wasn’t like she could take out the heart that might have memories buried inside it and exchange it for another one. She patted herself in the chest with the palm of her hand. Nope, no matter what, she was keeping this gift someone had so generously given her. She really didn’t have much choice in the matter anyway.

She could use someone with her when she went to see the doc this afternoon. Heading for the bathroom and a quick shower, another thought struck Emma. It was odd that she wanted someone to go with her today. She’d never felt the need for it before, so why now?

Leaning into the shower, she turned on the water and got a towel from the shelf beneath the sink.

She wanted Logan with her today. Not only because he was the one who brought the whole subject of transplants and taking on part of another personality up. She also wanted him there, well, just because.

Thinking of Logan when she stepped beneath the spray of warm water not only made her smile, it also made her hot. Her pussy began to heat when she thought of how Logan had made love to her with his mouth and then taken her from behind when she’d told him she liked to be submissive. She quickly flicked the lever over to cold, dowsing her body if not her thoughts. She soaped up using an herbal soap, hoping Logan would like the scent, and thought about how strongly she felt toward Logan. The emotion that bloomed inside her felt very much like love.

How could she love someone after only one day?

Rinsing until she was squeaky clean, she turned the water off. The water droplets dripped from her body, making a soft, pattering sound in the bottom of the tub as she stood there, very still.

Could it be? Was she in love?

It certainly felt like it. Yesterday had been a fateful day as far as she was concerned. Too much had happened to be called coincidence. Logan had even said as much when he talked about how his day had led him to the park and almost directly to Emma.

With a deep breath, Emma stepped out of the shower, a little less nervous and a little more resolved. Wrapping the towel around her, she stood at the sink and gazed into the mirror above it.

She was thirty-two years old, thirty-three in a little over two months. She’d never been married and hadn’t realized that she liked being submissive during sex until ten years ago when she had met Clay Archer. Once Clay showed her that it was okay to be who she really was, to enjoy sex like she wanted to, life became so much easier. Until she found out that Clay was stepping out on her. It had ended badly.

She pushed Clay out of her mind, memories good and bad, and raked a comb through her hair. Emma decided she didn’t look bad for her age, just a wrinkle here and there and one big scar in the center of her chest between her breasts. Logan didn’t seem to mind, and that was all that really counted.

Logan. She needed to call him to ask if he could go with her this afternoon. She hoped it wasn’t too much trouble for Logan to get off work a little early. She hoped calling him at work was okay. She wasn’t really in his league, after all. But then she remembered he’d said to leave a message if he didn’t answer because he was with a customer so it must be okay to call.

“Where did I put his number?” Emma mumbled as she padded into her bedroom.

Entering the bedroom, she saw her jean jacket from last night lying on the floor by the bed where she had stripped off her clothes and fallen into bed, exhausted. She snapped her fingers. It was in the front pocket. That’s where she’d shoved the piece of paper.

She snatched up the jeans and reached into the pocket. She pulled out some paper and dropped the jacket back on the floor before turning back toward the hall.

As she walked down the hall toward the living room, she unfolded the paper that had somehow gotten all crumpled up from being in her pocket.

Suddenly she stopped and stared at what was in her hands.

There wasn’t one slip of paper—there were two. Clay had also given her his number, she remembered.

Emma bit her lip.

Two white slips of paper with a phone number written on each. No names.

Which one was which?

Chapter Eight

Logan did nothing but shove the papers on his desk into increasingly rumpled piles.

With a huge sigh, he rose from his desk and walked to the water cooler yet again. He couldn’t get his mind off Emma and how they had connected last night. The whole day yesterday seemed otherworldly, deemed by fate. From the urge to leave work early to meeting Emma in the park and Emma, with the way she tugged at her ear and liked ginger ale with cherries, reminded him so much of Christi. He hadn’t put it all together until he had awakened this morning and flung his arm to the other side of the bed and found it empty. It had almost seemed as if Christi had returned from the dead, but he knew it couldn’t happen, so he chalked it up to being with Emma and hoping there would be many more nights they would be together. Even though they were from different walks of life, they got along perfectly. If it didn’t bother her, it wasn’t going to bother him. He’d learned life was too short to worry about little things like whether she worked construction sites and he sold expensive cars.

He poured a cup of water, the bottle on top of the water cooler gurgling, and took a sip, remembering last night.

There were a couple of times when he looked into her eyes, she had the same look Christi used to have when she would tell him to take her in his arms and hold her tightly.

Logan crumpled the paper cup in his fist and tossed it in the trash can beside the cooler.

Emma reminded him of Christi, but yet she was nothing like her.

Christi had been pure girl, made of spun glass and soft sighs.

Emma was all tomboy, beautiful in a wild sort of way, full of laughter and rebel yells. Full of life, she made him feel alive, and he loved that about her. Two totally different women with such strange similarities.

Emma may be damaged and scarred, but she was still a head turner. She was as true and real as it got and made no bones about what she wanted and when. She was fearless.

Logan crossed the showroom and stood looking out the tinted plate glass windows toward the street, watching people walk by in business suits and skirts. He wondered which of them if any had had their lives touched by a life-threatening situation like Emma had with her heart transplant. How would they have reacted? Cowering and crying? Logan didn’t see one person who looked as if they had the strength of character of Emma Shane.

And that’s why he had fallen in love with her.

Logan raised his right hand and placed it palm down over his heart.

He loved her.

And then he breathed again.

Smoothing his hand down his silk tie, Logan smiled. It truly felt as if his world had started revolving again.

His cell phone rang, vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, still smiling as he looked outside and answered. “Hello?”

“Logan? Logan, can you come to see the doc with me today?” Emma asked, her words coming in a rush.

At three fifty, Logan walked into Emma’s cardiologist’s office, nervous and not knowing what to expect. All he knew was that Emma sounded scared on the phone, and picturing Emma scared caused Logan to feel a little tickle of fear. He’d just found her. He didn’t want to lose her now.

“Emma Shane for Doc Reese.” Emma stood at the receptionist’s window, so anxious she looked like she wanted to tap her foot.

“Take a seat, Ms. Shane. It will be a minute or two.” The receptionist smiled and closed the glass partition.

Emma whirled around and stalked toward a row of chairs along the wall. “It’s always a few minutes. I swear you’d think I wasn’t the one paying the bills around here.” She plopped down into a chair and crossed her arms across her chest.

Logan sat down beside her. Unable to help himself, he chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Emma asked, whipping her gaze toward him.

“You. If you stuck your lower lip out, I think your pout would be perfect.”

Dead silence hung in the air for a full five seconds with her staring at him. Then she smiled, the smile turning into a bubbling laugh. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a bitch.”

He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it. “You haven’t told me what’s wrong.”

She squeezed his hand back but continued to smile. “You’ll find out when we go inside.”

“Emma, is it something I should worry about? You sounded so rattled on the phone.”

She reached over and laid her other hand on top of their clasped hands. “It’s nothing to be worried about, but yes, it is something that’s rattling around in my mind and I want to get it settled.”

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but before he could, a nurse pushed through the door beside the receptionist’s window. “Emma? Come with me,” the nurse said, a file in her hand.

Emma still held his hand, pulling him behind her as they entered the inner sanctum of cardiology.

“If you’ll just come into Room Five,” the nurse said, stopping beside the door of an examination room. “The doctor will be in very soon.”

Logan entered the room behind Emma, still feeling a bit nervous. He hated doctor’s offices. The nurse closed the door, leaving them alone in the exam room to wait for the doctor.

Instead of sitting down on the chair beside the small desk, Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against him. “Wanna do me on that table over there?” she asked, nodding toward the exam table. “I’ll bet we could get into some strange positions on it.” She winked.

Logan caught her arms by the wrists, pulling them from around his neck. “I would definitely do you right here, right now, if I knew we wouldn’t get caught.”

“Okay, I’ll let you off the hook for now, but later, I want to discuss something very sexual with you.” She backed away, parking her hands on her hips.

“Exactly what do you have in mind?” She had his interest piqued. Having sex with Emma had been the best sexual experience he’d had in years, possibly even his life. If she had an idea about something new, he was all ears.

Coyly, she put a finger to her lips and looked up at him. Dropping the finger, she gazed steadily at him. “How would you feel about a ménage?”

Logan swallowed, his cock signaling with a tiny twitch that it was up for anything with this woman. “Ménage?” he asked, wanting to make sure he heard her correctly.

She stepped forward. Reaching up, she toyed with his shirt collar. “One woman, two men.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “You get first choice.”

He cleared his throat. “What do you mean, first choice?”

Using both her hands, she used his collar to pull him close to her face. Nose to nose, she swiped her tongue over his bottom lip. “First choice of whether you want to fuck me in the pussy, the ass, or my mouth. What do you say, Logan? Are you up to it?”

He wanted to fuck her right now. His cock was stiff, and the head of it was damp with pre-cum. To have her trapped between him and another man—the thought nearly took his breath. He had to stop thinking about it. “What would something like that do to your heart?” he asked, truly wondering if she’d be able to handle it.

“What would what do to her heart?” the doctor asked, entering the room. He looked from Logan to Emma. “Maybe I should have knocked louder.”