Taming Johnny (4 page)

“Maybe,” he said. “But I know I’m right.”

Emma shook her head. “You know, I don’t get you. Let’s pretend for a minute that I
had
tried to look nice for you. Most men might be flattered by that, but you…” she huffed softly. “You’re angry. Actually
angry
. And you come over to my apartment to rip me a new one. What’s that all about?” She put her hands on her hips to emphasize that last statement, felt her boobs jiggle with their newfound freedom, and quickly crossed her arms again.

He didn’t appear to notice. Of course. He stepped closer as lightning flashed again. The lights in the apartment flickered for a moment before thunder boomed, rattling the panes in the windows.

“Yeah, I’m mad,” he said. “Have you ever known me to be anything else?”

“At least now you’re admitting it.”

“I’ve never
not
admitted it. I just haven’t discussed anything with you in detail. Until now.”

“Why now?” Her throat was going dry. Where in the world was he going with this?

“Because for the better part of a year you’ve been batting those eyes at me, Beaumont. It’s about time I addressed it. You should know I’m not up for any kind of…thing. Especially with some wet behind the ears police clerk who I work with.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
Liar.
“And I’m not wet behind the ears.”

“Come on, Beaumont! Get real. Tell me you don’t have a thing for me.”

“Oh my God,” Emma said. “You’re incredible.”

“I know. And apparently so do you.” There was barely a hint of a sparkle in his eyes, but his expression remained hard, daring her to say anything else. “I’m serious when I say I want it to stop. I don’t have time for these games at work.”

This time she put her hands on her hips and left them there, not caring if her boobs did a sideways jig. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming over here, lecturing me like a five-year-old. And for the record, I have no interest in any kind of
thing
with you. I don’t know any woman in her right mind who would.”

“I don’t either,” he said, his voice low. “Believe me when I say you want nothing to do with me.”

Emma’s heart was beating like a baseball bat against her breast bone. She was so dumbfounded by what was happening, she didn’t know what to say next.

Outside, the wind howled around the apartment building. Rain was hitting the windows like fine grains of sand. The sky was getting darker, the clouds taking on an ominous green tint.

“I—” Emma began, stopping short when the lieutenant held up a hand. He was looking over his shoulder toward the window. The rain had stopped all of a sudden, and so had the wind. Everything went so eerily quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered.

Then, as if on cue, pea-sized hail began to pelt the glass. Lightning flashed like a firecracker and the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck prickled.

Johnny pushed past her to open up the front door. The sky looked like a celestial bowl of pea soup, the clouds a thick green mass which were churning above them.

He held up his hand to shield his face against the hail, just as the tornado sirens went off.

Chapter 5

“Oh my God!” Emma cried. “What now?”

“Do the apartments have a storm shelter?”

“No. Nothing. I knew I should have moved last year.”

The sirens howled eerily across town. The sound made Emma want to curl into the fetal position and suck her thumb. A few cars sped past, their drivers probably frantic. The clouds moved unnaturally in the sky, creating an almost tangible electricity in the air. She had never seen a tornado before. She’d been in plenty of storms and had endured the terrifying warnings and sirens, but had never witnessed one in person.

Without thinking, she stepped closer to the lieutenant and grabbed his arm, taking a childlike comfort in his presence.

“It’s okay,” Johnny said, still looking toward the sky. “We’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”

“What way is that?” Emma immediately pictured huddling underneath a desk. No…that was an earthquake. She wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Bathtub and mattress. Come on.” He reached for her hand and pulled her inside just as a long, skinny funnel cloud formed in the blackness above.

“Oh, shit!”

“
Now
,” he said.

She scrambled after him toward the bedroom, her hand securely clasped in his. When they got to the bed, he had to pry her fingers loose.

“It’s all right, Beaumont. You’re going to break my thumb. Let go for a second, okay?”

She did as she was told and stood shaking as he tore the white duvet off the bed. He was fast, efficient, and calm. The exact opposite of how she felt, which was uncomfortably close to peeing her pajama bottoms.

Half dragging, half carrying the mattress, he pushed it through the bedroom door and stood aside. “Ladies first.”

Thunder boomed and she jumped. This wasn’t happening. This absolutely was not happening. There was not a tornado forming outside her apartment. She was not about to climb into her bathtub with the lieutenant. She had not just held his hand a second ago and grabbed onto his arm for good measure.

She must have been standing there like a deer in headlights because he actually snapped his fingers. “
Beaumont
. You might want to get a move on before that thing actually touches down!”

Oh, yes. Of course. This wasn’t a dream. She scurried into the tub with her teeth chattering. Johnny got in beside her, pulling the mattress down over them. Outside, a nasty wind screeched past the window panes while hail stones slammed against the roof. Emma huddled closer to Johnny. He was warm and solid, and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he’d come over tonight.

Thunder boomed, sounding like a bomb going off in the heavens. The lights flickered and died, leaving them in the dark, which all of a sudden felt cold. Or maybe it was just the way Emma was trembling. She couldn’t stop.

Johnny put his arm around her and drew her close. “It’s okay. It’s all right.”

The wind pushed against the apartment building like a giant finger picking a fight. The walls creaked and moaned from the changing pressure outside. The sirens continued to wail and the cacophony of sounds made Emma want to slap both hands over her ears.

Instead, she turned her face into his shoulder, taking all the comfort he was offering. “Have you ever been in a tornado before?” she asked, closing her eyes against his t-shirt.

“Once. When I was a kid. You?”

“Never.”

“You’re shaking,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Was it? Was it really? All Emma could picture were news clips showing the devastation after a tornado. Trees squashing cars like tin cans, houses ripped from their foundations, entire families left homeless in a matter of seconds. And then there was that scene from
Twister
with the flying cows.
Cow. Another cow.

“Shhh.” He turned his face into her hair and the heat of his breath slowed her frantic heartbeat.

Johnny Street has his arm around me. He’s comforting me in a bathtub while we’re about to be sucked up into a tornado. He’s not being an asshole...
Her inner narrative wouldn’t shut up.
And oh yeah. I’m also wearing my pajamas without a bra. And I think he just rubbed the side of my boob. Cripes.

The mattress, combined with the mugginess of the summer air, was making Emma sweat. But she didn’t dare move an inch from Johnny’s side. Their skin was slick where it touched, the heat between them electrifying.

And then, very slowly, the wind began to die down as if tiring of the effort. The sound of the hail against the roof gradually petered out until it stopped altogether. The sirens across town gave one last cry, and then fell silent.

The only sound now, besides a subdued pattering of rain against the windows, was Johnny’s even breathing beside her. He reached up and pushed the mattress off just as the lights flickered back on, flooding the hallway with soft, yellow light.

He turned, his incredibly handsome face cast between shadow and light, his normally hard eyes holding a hint of a twinkle.

“It’s over, Beaumont. I think you can let go now.”

And it was only then that she realized she was still clutching him around the midsection, her face just inches from his.

* * * *

They’d been lucky. Every time Emma thought about it, she got chills. The tornado had touched down, but hadn’t caused any damage, except to a barn and surrounding fence a block away. If it had moved just a little closer, her apartment building would have been toast.

Emma stood in front of her bathroom mirror now, applying eye shadow like a robot. Monday morning had come right on time, despite the weekend being blurry and surreal. The tornado experience wasn’t the only thing giving her chills. Emma had to keep reminding herself that what had happened hadn’t been something out of one of her fantasies. It had been very real. It appeared that (A) Johnny Street had come over to her apartment after work to announce that he knew how she felt about him and wasn’t happy about it. On the contrary. He was super annoyed. (B) He’d crawled into her bathtub, ready to protect her from falling debris. And (C) He had the body of a Greek god. She had the memory of clinging to his rock solid arms to prove it.

Finishing her makeup, she put the bag back on the counter and studied herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were extra rosy this morning, and it had nothing to do with the blush she’d just put on. Her hair was drawn up in a messy bun, soft tendrils hanging loose next to her face. Her eyes appeared sultry and hooded as if she’d just had morning sex.

She smiled at the thought.

* * * *

Johnny fired again and emptied the clip into the target, the Glock feeling solid and familiar in his hands. Something about the shooting range calmed him. It brought him back to normal when he was feeling anything but. This was his element, where he belonged. It was the only thing he really understood. So he couldn’t get why his mind wasn’t going blessedly blank the way it usually did when he came out here. He still felt jittery. Upside down.

Lowering the gun, he stared through his goggles at the target in the distance. He’d missed more than once. Not like him. Pissed him off.

“What’s the matter, Street? Off your game?” The sheriff’s deputy beside him smirked while reloading.

“Shut up, Blitz.”

“Just telling it like it is. Never known you to miss. Sick or something?”

“Sick of you.” Johnny shoved another clip into the Glock with more force than necessary.

“Congenial as ever, Street.”

“Fuck off.” Raising the gun again, he emptied his round into the target. And this time didn’t miss.

* * * *

Emma stood in front of the coffee pot in the break room like a space cadet. She stared without blinking at the mocha colored rings on the counter, vaguely thinking she should wipe them up, but never getting that far.

“Hey, Police Clerk Beaumont.” Sally poked her head in the door and Emma jumped. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She smiled over her shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’ve just been wandering around here all morning with your head in the clouds, that’s all. Anything you want to talk about?”

Emma had spilled the beans to Sally exactly twenty seconds after the lieutenant had left Friday night, unable to scoop her cellphone up fast enough. They had talked at length over the weekend, Sally saying “Oh my God, I just can’t believe it” more times than Emma could count. But as much as they’d gone over it, they’d never come up with a concrete plan about how Emma should proceed. Ignore how he’d come over and what he’d said, how mad he’d been? Forget how his arms had felt around her? That didn’t seem possible. Or maybe she should take the easy way out…quit her job and join a convent. That seemed better than the alternative of seeing him on a daily basis and riding this godforsaken emotional roller coaster until she tossed her proverbial cookies all over her lap.

She sighed and reached for a paper towel to wipe up the coffee rings. “I’m all right, Sal. I’ll be out in a sec.” The truth was that she didn’t know what to do or how to act. She’d just have to take it one step at a time. After all, he was her supervisor. She was an employee and this was her job. She’d be professional and take it from there.

“Okay,” Sally said.

Alone again, Emma wiped at the rings methodically, slipping back into her thoughts.

“Hey.”

She startled, recognizing his voice immediately. She didn’t turn, instead began scrubbing at the rings faster.

He moved up behind her. So close she could actually feel his breath on her neck. If she stepped backward two inches, she’d bump right into him. A muscular, tanned arm reached around her for a mug on the counter. She looked down at the fine golden hairs on his forearm and the way the muscles moved underneath the skin and thought
I had that arm around me the other night.

“Cleaning, are we, Beaumont?”

“What?” He’d never stood this close before. Ever. He was enjoying making her nervous. Of course he was. What an ass. He was the one who’d said he didn’t have time for games at work. What was this?

“Cleaning,” he repeated, leaning closer. She could smell the soap on his skin. “You’re wiping down that counter like you’re on a mission from the chief. Are you?”

She swallowed. Ridiculous. It was ridiculous how this man affected her. “Excuse me?”

“Are you on a mission from the chief? Because I thought I was the one who gave you direct orders around here.”

“You’re the one who bites my head off on a daily basis. Is that what you mean?”

“I’m stern. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?”

“Definitely.”

Emma shifted. If anyone walked in and saw him so close, she’d have some explaining to do. At the same time, her toes curled with excitement at his proximity. She couldn’t help it. It was like an involuntary reflex. Like your knee jerking at the doctor’s office after he hit it with that hammer thing.