Yours to Keep (8 page)

“Oh.” She stopped and blinked at him. “I thought you were still in bed.”

He spit out the toothpaste and grabbed the hand towel to wipe his mouth. “I usually make a bigger lump.”

“I don’t look because you throw the covers off and…” She broke off as her eyes drifted south to the towel, where
bigger lump
took on a whole new meaning. He’d thrown miles of punishment at his body for no reason. “Oh.”

Rather than dwell on deciphering the tone of that
oh,
he took her by the shoulders and guided her far enough to the left so he could get by her. Once he was free, he closed the door behind him and swore under his breath.

The only way that could have been more awkward was if his towel had slipped off in front of her.

After getting dressed in record time, he flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. This was the kind of story a woman would share with her best friend. And her best friend was married to his cousin. His cousin had a big mouth. It was only a matter of time before one of his brothers called, asking him what the hell was going on.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the bed and headed downstairs. One, he wanted coffee. And, two, he didn’t want to be sprawled on the bed when Emma got around to leaving the bathroom. The only thing more awkward than being caught in a towel that didn’t do much to hide an erection was talking about it.

Cat was sitting at the table, sipping her tea, when he walked in. “You beat Emma down this morning.”

“It doesn’t happen often.” He poured two mugs of coffee and then froze. He had no clue what Emma took in her coffee. He knew she took some half-and-half, but he wasn’t sure about the sugar. Putting his back between Cat and the cups, he dumped two teaspoons in each cup.

“How do you like working with my granddaughter?”

Since he’d only worked with her for a day and a half, he couldn’t really say. “It’s not too bad. She works hard. Has a good head for business.”

“And she has excellent control skills,” Cat added.

He laughed, thinking of their trip to the grocery store. “That she does.”

“I guess you know her pretty well.”

She was watching him, so he concentrated on looking honest. Whatever that looked like. “She’s a complicated woman. I’m not sure anybody really knows her well. Except you, of course.”

She laughed as the complicated woman in question walked into the kitchen. “Morning, Gram. What’s so funny?”

“Just chatting with Sean and, now that you’re up, I’ll start some French toast.”

Sean watched Emma take the first sip of her coffee and, when she didn’t shudder or make faces, he figured he’d done okay. He also noticed, as Cat started hauling things out of the refrigerator, that Emma wasn’t making eye contact with him.

He shouldn’t have walked out because now the awkwardness was going to fester until she felt a need to talk about it. He could have laughed it off as a morning wood, making it clear it had nothing to do with her. It would have been a lie, of course. He’d been up for several hours and it most definitely had something to do with her. But she might have bought it and not had to talk about it.

The kitchen felt claustrophobic all of a sudden, what with the two women he barely knew and the elephant in the room, so he took his coffee and muttered about catching the morning news. He turned on the TV in the living room and sank onto the couch with a sigh of relief. It would take a few minutes to make the French toast, so he had a few minutes of normal.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” It was Emma, of course, and there went his normal.

He sighed and moved over on the couch. “Knock yourself out.”

She sat down, far enough away so none of their body parts touched. “I get the whole guy thing. Morning…you know, and I don’t want this to be weird.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Okay.” She took a sip of her coffee, then wrapped both hands around the mug. “We’ll probably have more moments like this if we’re going to live together for a month. Probably best to just laugh them off.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Actually, when a guy’s standing in front of you, fully hard and wearing nothing but a towel, laughing might not be the
best
way to handle it.”

“True.” Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and she laughed softly. “If we were in a movie, the towel would have fallen off. Could’ve been worse.”

“With my luck, I’m surprised it didn’t.”

“Breakfast,” Cat called from the kitchen. They both stood and Sean hoped this would be the last time they had to discuss his erections.

“Make sure you fill up,” Emma told him as they went toward the kitchen. “We’ll be planting trees today and that’ll take the piss out of you.”

Physical exhaustion? He was looking forward to it. Desperately.

Emma didn’t want her grandmother to ever leave. Gram had cut some chicken breasts into pieces and rolled them in a bowl of some kind of spices, then skewered them with a stick. A few minutes on the grill and Emma was in heaven.

It couldn’t be too hard, she thought. Of course, the last time she’d tried to cook something as simple as burgers on the grill, flames had started shooting out the side and she’d ended up with blackened lumps with raw meat in the middle even her grandfather couldn’t choke down. But this was chicken on a stick. How hard could it be?

“This is delicious, Cat,” Sean said, licking spices off his fingers in a way that made Emma’s spine tingle. “Aunt Mary makes something like it, but the spices don’t pack quite as much of a punch.”

“I can’t wait to meet her on Saturday. From all that you’ve said, she’s quite a woman.”

Emma’s spine stopped tingling and she picked up another skewer of chicken. She didn’t even want to think about how stressful Saturday was going to be, what with everybody having to be careful and watch every single word they said. And, regardless of what Sean had told her, she wasn’t sure Mrs. Kowalski would back them up when the time finally came.

“She’s looking forward to meeting you, too,” he said. “And Emma’s been so busy they haven’t seen her in a while.”

No, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing them Saturday. Lisa, yes. But it was going to be hard to look Mrs. Kowalski in the eye, no matter how many times Sean told her it would be okay.

“I rented a movie while I was in town today,” Gram said. “Some action movie the girl said was very good.”

Emma was all for a relaxing movie. Something mindless that she could lose herself in and stop obsessing about her body language and every word she said. A mental break was just what she needed.

She felt differently about the movie plan an hour later when Gram sat in the armchair and set her knitting basket at her feet, leaving the couch for her and Sean.

Crap.
They couldn’t very well sit at opposite ends of the damn thing. A happy couple would snuggle, maybe sneaking a quick kiss here and there when they thought Gram wasn’t looking. Two hours of up close and personal with Sean Kowalski was about as far from relaxing as she could get.

He got there first, sitting in one corner and propping his feet on the coffee table. Putting in the DVD and getting it ready to play bought Emma a couple of minutes, but then she had to walk to the couch. He seemed to realize at the last second she wasn’t going to sit on the far end and, after glancing at Gram, he lifted his arm and rested it on the back of the couch.

Since her back was momentarily to the armchair, she gave Sean an apologetic
whaddya-gonna-do
smile and sat down in the curve of his arm. He dropped his hand onto her shoulder as she hit Play on the remote control.

She tried to pay attention to the movie. She watched as a woman dropped a cookie sheet of burnt cookies in the sink, and then a man walked into her kitchen. He had a gun and he told her he’d kidnapped her son. Emma followed along at first.

But Sean’s body was putting off enough heat to melt marshmallows and a whole lot of his body was touching her body. His arm around her shoulders. His thigh pressed to hers. Their feet sometimes brushing. It was distracting.

“You watch,” Gram said. “The man she has to deliver to the kidnappers is going to end up being the father of her son and I bet he doesn’t know.”

Emma managed to keep enough focus on the television to see that she was right but Sean was relaxing, which meant even more of his body was touching hers. And minute by minute she was becoming the marshmallow, melting against him. He smelled good and felt good and…she was in so much trouble. This wasn’t her man to lust after. Well, technically she could. She just couldn’t act on it.

Sean was temporary. There was no sense in getting used to having a man to snuggle on the couch with or to open stubborn jars or to do her heavy lifting because as soon as Gram was gone, so was he. And that’s the way she wanted it. It would probably be another five years before Landscaping by Emma was ready for her to do the husband-and-babies thing.

And when she did go husband shopping, she wasn’t going to settle for a guy whose entire life revolved around football, steak, beer and women. Or a guy who thought only Bob or Fred could mow lawns. Sean wouldn’t even let her drive her own truck.

Halfway through a scene in which the mom and dad were rappelling out of a helicopter with guns blazing to rescue their kidnapped son, Sean’s hand shifted and his fingertips started tracing circles against her shoulder. His attention was on the screen, as was Gram’s, so Emma wasn’t sure he was even aware he was doing it.

She
was aware of it, though, that was for damn sure. Aware of the warmth of his touch through her T-shirt and very, very aware of the way her body reacted as if he were stroking parts of her a lot farther south than her shoulder.

When his fingers worked their way down to the end of her short sleeve and touched bare skin, she totally lost track of the plot unfolding on the television screen. Temporary or not, it sure was nice being touched by a man. It had been…a long time.

“Can you pause it for a minute?” Gram asked. “Intermission.”

When Emma leaned forward for the remote, Sean withdrew his arm and let his feet fall to the floor. “Sounds like a plan.”

Gram left in the direction of the kitchen and Emma stood, intending to get out of Sean’s way but, when he stood, he grabbed her elbow and spun her around.

His mouth met hers, hot and hungry, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she responded in kind. So what if he was temporary? She’d enjoy it while it lasted. His hands were on her hips and he pulled her closer—close enough so she could feel he wasn’t pretending to want her.

The kiss was incredible and she stood on her tip-toes, reaching for more. Her fingertips found the back of his neck and she stroked him from the knot at the top of his spine and up into his hair and back.

Sean pulled away from her so fast she almost fell over. “Shit.”

“Flattering.” Her senses were still so overwhelmed by him she didn’t trust herself to say more.

He ran his hand over his hair, shaking his head. “That was…”

Wonderful, Emma thought. Amazing. Toe-curling. “That was what?”

“A mistake.” He pushed by her and a few seconds later she heard his footsteps climbing the stairs.

“Jerk,” she muttered, but the word didn’t have a lot of oomph behind it. She was still too breathless from being kissed so thoroughly by a man who knew what kissing was all about.

No doubt about it—she was in trouble.

Sean had to get out of the house or he was totally going to lose it. He wasn’t sure if that meant punching a hole in the wall or tossing Emma over his shoulder and carrying her off to bed caveman-style, but either was a bad idea.

Time to go for a ride and get some space, but first he stuck another sticky note to the mirror and uncapped the Sharpie.

You can hold my hand or pat my head or scratch my belly, but don’t rub the back of my neck again unless you want to get naked.

He went back downstairs and grabbed the keys to his truck off the hook by the door. Cat was back in her chair when he popped his head into the living room.

“I have to bail, ladies. Kevin called while I was upstairs and needs a hand with something.”

“But the movie,” Cat said.

“You’ll have to tell me how it ends.” He forced himself to look at Emma, who was doing a pretty poor job of hiding her annoyance. “I might be late, so don’t wait up.”

“Have fun,” was all she said.

He jumped on the highway and drove a little too fast with the music a little too loud, hoping to leave no room in his thoughts for remembering the taste of Emma’s lips.

Even before he’d spun her around, he’d known kissing her was a big mistake. He hadn’t realized the mistake was actually colossal, though, until she started stroking the back of his neck and his body reacted with an urgency that led nowhere but to bed. Together. Hot and sweaty and breathing hard between the sheets.

He got lucky and found a parking spot near Jasper’s Bar & Grille and breathed a sigh of relief as he walked through the door. Men drinking beer. Pretty waitresses. Sports on the big screens. Sanity.

It was a little slow, which wasn’t surprising for a Wednesday night, so there were plenty of open seats at the bar where Kevin appeared to be holding down the fort.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” he said as his cousin set a beer in front of him.

Kevin shrugged. “Terry’s having one of those parties where the women all get together and one of them sells the others a bunch of shit they don’t need so she can earn a free salad bowl or whatever. Paulie wanted to go and I sure as hell didn’t, so here I am. How’s fake almost-married life treating you?”

“I kissed her.” He chugged down a quarter of the mug.

“Yeah, so? Engaged people do that sometimes.”

“I kissed her
after
Cat left the room. I didn’t kiss her because we were pretending. I kissed her because…hell, I don’t need to draw you a map.”

“When did that happen?”

Sean looked at his watch. “About a half hour ago.”

Kevin gave a low whistle. “She still sleeping on the couch?”

“Yes. And she’s staying there, too, goddammit.”

“Did she punch you in the face? Knee you in the balls?”

“No.”

Kevin grinned. “So what’s the problem? You want her. She can at least tolerate you. Get it out of your system.”

He was afraid sleeping with Emma wouldn’t get her out of his system, but get her a little farther under his skin, instead. “Bad idea.”

“Call it a fringe benefit.”

“She’s already pretending she’s in love with me. Throwing real sex on top of that could get it all mixed up in her head.”

“You worried about her mixing it up…or you?”

That was ridiculous, so he snorted and swallowed some more beer. He had no interest in settling down—signing his life over to somebody else so soon after getting it back from Uncle Sam—and he sure as hell wasn’t planting flowers until retirement age. Assuming he didn’t lose his mind and suffocate himself in a mound of mulch before then.

“You ready for Saturday?” Kevin asked.

“Hell no.” He didn’t even want to think about that.

Kevin had to move on down the bar, so Sean sipped his beer and stared at the television without really seeing what was on.

Emma had felt way too good tucked up against his body on the couch. She was warm and her body fit perfectly against his and the viewing angle had let him appreciate all too much how long and perfectly shaped her legs were. And the heat of her thigh pressed against his…

Sean knocked back the rest of his beer and set the mug out on the far edge, looking for a refill.

Kevin came back and refilled it. “Nurse this one if you’re driving home. If you have another, you’re staying upstairs.”

“I’ll nurse it. Why don’t you throw in an order of chili-cheese fries for me, too.”

He watched the game and ate his fries, making the beer last. Emma would probably be asleep by the time he got back, those amazing legs peeking out from the worn flannel shorts that wouldn’t have been sexy on anybody else.

Hopefully the long, icy-cold shower he was going to need wouldn’t wake her up.

Emma ripped the sticky note off the bathroom mirror and tossed it in the trash.

Sean didn’t have to worry about her rubbing the back of his neck again anytime soon. And he certainly didn’t have to worry about her wanting to get naked. Not with him.

If they were a real couple, she’d throw his pillow onto the couch and let
his
feet dangle over the edge for a change. It was pathetic how fast he’d come up with a lame excuse to run away just because he’d kissed her.

It was just a kiss. A great kiss, yes, but still just a kiss. She hadn’t asked him to marry her—to
really
marry her, of course—or told him she wanted to have his baby. A hot, steamy, toe-curling, bone-melting kiss between two single adults was nothing to run from.

But now he’d made a big deal out of it and everything was going to be even more awkward than it had been for the last few days.

She’d been curled up on the couch, fuming, for almost an hour when she heard Sean’s truck pull into the drive. It was another ten minutes before he crept into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Since she was facing the back of the couch, she didn’t have to make much of an effort to ignore him.

He was in the shower so long she must have fallen asleep to the drone of running water because the next thing Emma knew, her alarm was going off and it was time to face another day in the hell she’d created.

But first she had to face Sean. As usual, she got first crack at the bathroom and when she came out, he was sitting on the side of the bed, fully clothed. Thank goodness.

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “We should talk about last night.”

“How’s Kevin?”

“He’s good. And I meant before that.”

“You should have stayed for the end of the movie. It was good.”

“Dammit, Emma, you know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, you mean the practice kiss?” She clipped her cell phone onto her front pocket. “We’re getting better at it. That was almost convincing.”

“Practice kiss?” He stood, probably so he could look down at her, but she was tall enough so it didn’t make much of an impact. “Almost convincing?”

“Yeah,” she said, though she turned her back on him, heading toward the door to avoid eye contact because that was no practice kiss and it could have convinced even the CIA’s finest.

He was muttering when she left the room, but she shut the door on him and went downstairs. She didn’t want to talk about it. And she didn’t want to think about the fact he wasn’t happy she called it a practice kiss.

That meant he considered it a real kiss. And not only a real kiss, but one that had shaken him up. The only reason kissing a woman should bother a man like him was if he was trying to fight being attracted to her.