by Jordyn White
It takes a few seconds to reign in my panic and come up with plan B. Thank god I have money in my account and thank god for Uber.
I march across the lot and retrieve my purse from under the hedges.
“Emma?” Rayce’s strong voice carries across the still, night air. I startle, my heart thumping. I can’t see the door, but it sounds like that’s where he’s standing, and the light’s cutting across the driveway again.
No. I can’t talk to him. I can’t do this. What’s the fucking point anyway?
And I can’t read anything from his tone so I have no idea what he’s thinking, which irritates me even further.
I don’t answer. I just start beating the dirt off my purse.
“Emma.” In that commanding tone.
“What!”
Calm as ever, he says, “Get back in here.”
I stand there. The shaft of light slowly thins until I’m left in the dark.
I do want to go back in there. I want to go back in there and have everything be all right.
God, why can’t I get my head screwed on straight about this? It’s like my heart has no sense at all. Not at all.
But I do go back to the house like he told me to. I drift down the hall holding my hands in front of me and feeling so damned hopeful my chest feels like it’s being torn in two.
He’s not in the kitchen. He’s on one of the beautiful white chairs in the living room, under a soaring ceiling, in front of a sweeping Pacific view. He is the master of every inch of this space and apparently the master of me.
“Come here.”
I do. I am silent and afraid and hopeful, and studying his somber expression as he watches me approach.
I walk to the chair next to him and before I can sit down he puts out his hand, palm up. I give him my hand instinctively and he takes hold, bringing me to him. By the time he pulls me onto his lap, I am swallowing past a lump in my throat and blinking back tears. I’m squeezing my hands together on my lap, but I long to curl up inside his arms and tuck my head under his chin.
With one arm wrapped around my waist and one hand resting gently on my thigh, he holds my eyes, forbidding me from looking away.
“Emma...”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He cups my cheek in his warm, strong hand. “Listen. I would like to understand better what happened to you if you care to share it with me, but there’s one thing I’m clear on, and you’re about to be clear on it, too. It wasn’t your fault.”
The lump at the base of my throat hardens and I drop my eyes to my clasped hands. I nod slightly. “Yes, it was.”
He lifts my chin until I’m looking at him again. “No. It wasn’t.”
How is he making me feel so reassured, when I know he’s wrong?
“I shouldn’t have slept with my boss.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But there are worse crimes. Like a married man having an affair, sleeping with his employee, then manipulating and threatening her to hide his sins.”
I shake my head. “He’s an ass, but—”
“He’s an ass period.”
“I shouldn’t have been in that mess to start with. I shouldn’t have borrowed money from him.”
“Is that how you bailed out your dad?”
I nod. “It was stupid.”
He sighs. “Emma, you’re thinking about this all wrong.”
I shake my head.
“Yes. Now pay attention. Why did you run from me?”
His tone suggests he knows the answer and is just asking to get me to say it. Like a teacher patiently asking a question that really leads to another answer.
“Because...” I press my fingers against my eyes, because I’m embarrassed to say why I ran. I’m embarrassed that I did it at all. But here he is being so careful and gentle with me. He’s trying to tell me I can trust him with all of this. I can at least give him an honest answer.
I drop my hands and meet his eyes. “I ran because I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me. I’m afraid you’ll think I was an idiot for getting myself into that mess and then doing the same thing all over again. I’m afraid that... this is just nothing to you and you’ll think I’m stupid because it’s not nothing to me.”
He opens his mouth to say something reassuring, I can see it, but I have to finish now that I’ve started.
“And I was afraid that even if this wasn’t nothing to you either that you won’t see me as this amazing woman anymore and you’ll be done with me.”
“Emma,” he says, shaking his head. “I told you. You don’t need to be afraid to tell me things. I don’t think any less of you.” I soften slightly in his arms. “I understand you better now. I understand better what’s been holding you back. I’m sorry this has been so painful.”
“This whole thing with you has been so confusing. On the surface, it seems like another mistake. You’re my boss. We’re sneaking around. I should know better. But inside, it feels...”
I swallow hard.
He puts his hand over mine. “Different.”
Yes. Exactly. I nod.
He slowly takes my hand, and laces our fingers together. Watching this, something inside of me shifts. He may be my boss, like Chad was, but that’s where the similarities end.
“I’m sorry for comparing you to him. You’re not the same caliber of man at all. You’d never do what he did.”
He looks down at our hands, frowning slightly. “I’m not perfect, Emma.”
“But you wouldn’t do what he did. You wouldn’t take away my job or threaten to tell people I’m a thief.”
“No, I fucking wouldn’t,” he says, his voice hard.
“And if you were married, I bet you wouldn’t cheat on your wife, either.”
“No.” He holds my eyes again. “I wouldn’t. But I’m not perfect either, Emma.”
“But this is different,” I say. “With us. Isn’t it?”
He cups my face again. “Yes. This is different. This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And you are unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”
“It really doesn’t make you think less of me?”
He cups my face with both hands. “Sweetheart.” He gives me a tender, reassuring kiss. “If that’s the worst you’ve got, you are golden and I will never, ever be worthy of you.”
Something inside of me shifts. Something dark and heavy lifts off and just flies away. For the first time, since this whole thing started, I’m not afraid.
I don’t know how we go forward from here, but I trust this. I trust that he’ll try to work it out like he’s said he will, and I trust that he cares for me like he says he does, and maybe I can trust myself enough to just know that this situation really, truly is different and doesn’t have to end the same way.
I’m going to stop comparing this to what happened with Chad because it’s not the same.
It’s different.
And I’m all in.
Chapter 30
Rayce
Emma isn’t the only one with a confession to make now, is she?
I’m not someone who thinks you have to lay out every little thing about your past when you’re dating, especially not when it’s so new. But this is a detail she’s going to care about.
While I don’t understand why she was afraid I would think any less of her—she wasn’t the one in the wrong—the same cannot be said of me. Maybe I wasn’t the kind of asshole her boss was. I would never pull that kind of shit. But I was still an asshole.
I was already not proud of how I behaved back then, but the thought of telling Emma about it... it pains me to think of how she might look at me. Is she going to see me as the kind of guy to prey on his employees, the way her old boss preyed on her?
What if she thinks that’s what I’m doing now?
Even if I try to explain what was going on with me at the time, it sounds like I’m just trying to give myself a pass. Still, I’ll have to tell her at some point. But telling her now? That’s out of the question.
I have to get her ready to hear it first. I need to show her how special she is so she knows this is something she can trust. Because it is. I also need to get this relationship out in the open as soon as possible, so there’s no fear on her end that she’s just a cheap, closeted affair.
But both of those things are going to take time. Tonight, all I want is for her to feel better.
Still holding her and stroking her soft face, I ask, “Are you hungry?”
She nods.
“Let’s forget cooking.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, already having a plan.
She puts her hand on top of mine, pushing the phone onto my thigh. “This first.” She puts her hands on my cheeks and leans in, her blonde hair falling in a sheet over her shoulder. Her presence surrounds me. Nothing else exists.
When she kisses me, I literally have the sensation of falling. It’s a little alarming. Our kiss deepens and she sinks into me and I am still falling.
I clutch her to me.
Emma, Emma, Emma...
So this is what it is to fall in love. I thought I knew what it was, but I didn’t. I had no idea.
I would give up my kingdom and all that I have... for this.
It took me all the way until noon on Monday to realize I’d been getting a lot of strange looks at work all morning. Not strange like I had something stuck in my teeth, but strange like people were pleasantly puzzled by me.
I didn’t give it much thought. All I can seem to think about is Emma and the amazing weekend we had. I’ve never spent that much time with someone I wasn’t related to (or ever wanted to). But when it was time for her to go home on Sunday, it was hard to say goodbye. In fact, we texted through the evening, much to the chagrin of her roommates.
They were back from the art show earlier than planned, and saw me dropping her off at the apartment. It was too late. The damage had been done. Apparently they gave her an earful about what a slime ball I must be, but promised her they wouldn’t say anything to anybody.
Maybe I should be worried about that, but she says they’re good for it.
I don’t figure out what all the strange looks are about until I’m wrapping up the afternoon meeting with my siblings.
“So are you going to tell us what you’re smiling about all the time or what?” Connor asks.
Huh. Have I been?
Actually, I’m smiling right now. I smile wider. I guess Emma makes me happier than I realize.
“Nothing in particular,” I answer.
He’s giving me a disbelieving look.
I shrug. “Life is good.”
“What’s so good about it?” Lizzy prompts, a happy smile on her own face, much less suspicious than Connor.
“What isn’t good? The resort’s doing well.” I tap my fingers on the latest financial report we just finished reviewing. “You’re happy and settled,” I gesture to Connor. “My little sister is getting married to the man of her dreams. What’s not to smile about?”
“Awww,” Lizzy says sweetly, placing her hand on her heart.
“Uh huh,” Connor says, still giving me a suspicious look.
I stand, bringing the meeting to an official end. “Aren’t I allowed to be happy?”
“Of course you are,” she says, lightly slapping Connor on the leg before they stand themselves. “Stop harassing him.”
“I’m not harassing him.”
They head for the door and I retrieve my suit coat from the stand in the corner. I slide it onto my shoulders and turn in time to see Connor shutting the door after Lizzy exits, leaving just the two of us in the room. He faces me with a conspiratorial grin, hand still on the knob. “So what’s really going on?”
Maybe I do need to watch how I’m acting if he’s this serious about finding out the cause. I drop my smile and button my coat. “You’re acting weird.”
This throws him a bit and his smile fades. “There’s really nothing?”
“You know, I’m not sure what it says about my life that a smile on my face should be so noteworthy.”
He throws his hands up. “No, hey. I’m sorry. You’re fine.”
I clap him on the shoulder as he opens the door, and put my business persona back in place. “Let me know what Robert says about our proposal. I’ll be back right after my session.” I’m headed to our on-site spa for my weekly massage appointment, a habit our father instilled in us as essential mental health insurance.
Connor nods, back to business himself. “All right.”
Yes, I definitely need to watch myself. Yet, a few minutes later as I pop my head into the spa manager’s office to let her know I am there, I realize I’ve done it again. Dee Ann cocks her head and gives a perplexing grin to the smile on my face.
Well, what’s a man do? It’s not my fault Emma just sent me the cutest text ever: You give me butterflies and you’re not even here.
Adorable, right?
I text her back once I’m in the room and on the table: I’m thinking about you, too. I may or may not have been accused of excessive smiling today.
Emma: See? Just like that.
Me: I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight.
Dee Ann comes in and I settle in. We exchange a bit of small talk as she gets to work on a knot between my left shoulder blade and my spine. She’s been doing this for me for so long, she doesn’t even need to ask what I need. My chronic sore spot has actually been bugging me a lot less today. Maybe it was all the relaxing I did over the weekend. I hardly touched my computer or phone at all.
“I wanted to ask you about my vacation next month,” she says.
“All right.” She’ll be gone two weeks. She deserves it, but will be missed. She keeps everybody in line over here, for sure.
“Should I schedule one of the girls to work on your back while I’m gone?”
“No, I’ll wait,” I say automatically.
Though... I realize... not for the reason I normally would.
It used to be I’d take whichever girl was available on the schedule, but things got out of hand one day, back when I was living in that black cloud. It wasn’t the first time an employee had hinted she might want something more from me, but it was the first time I followed an opening like that all the way to its conclusion. It was the first, and just the beginning.
After I made that promise to Connor to keep my nose clean, I wanted to avoid any opportunity for temptation and that’s how I ended up with a standing appointment with Dee Ann. She’s a beautiful woman, yes, but she’s worked here since I was a kid, is happily married, and is the same age as my mother.
She’s safe.
Not to mention one of the many people around here it’d kill me to disappoint.
But when I told her I didn’t want to take a session with someone else, it wasn’t because of me. It was because of Emma. I don’t have any idea if Emma would care who gives me a massage, but... well, I don’t know. I guess I don’t want her to ever have to wonder if she’s the only girl in my life.
My phone dings with another text from her.
And I smile.
Chapter 31
Emma
Pierce and Aaron are definitely not happy with me. They’re convinced Rayce is just using me, and the fact that he wants to keep our relationship a secret is only proof. I can’t bring myself to tell them he’s letting me borrow a car he just purchased. They just think I got a killer deal on a loan.
Rayce already had a garage full of cars, but he bought another saying he was going to get it anyway. I know he did it for me. No way was he going to buy a six-year old Acura to park in that garage full of luxury cars. But I couldn’t exactly drive one of them without raising questions, and since it’s not a car he already owned, anyone seeing me in it wouldn’t connect it to him. I’ll be able to get my own car in another month or two
anyway, and hell, I didn’t want a long commute on public transit any more than Rayce wanted it.
“That’s our time,” he told me.
I can just imagine what Aaron and Pierce would have to say about it. They have enough to say already. I’m trying not to let their constant nagging get into my head, but I have to admit, I’ll feel better once everything’s out the open.
But we can’t do that until I find another job, which is going to take some time, especially since Rayce doesn’t want me to apply for anything that would mean a cut in pay or loss of benefits.
That doesn’t leave a whole lot. Not many places can compete with what the resort has to offer. My work history doesn’t help matters much, either. That, according to Aaron and Pierce, is exactly why I shouldn’t be risking my newfound stability by sleeping with the boss.
But this is a risk that’s making me so damned happy.
Like right now, for example.
I spent the night at Rayce’s for the third night in a row, and we were up far too late. Too late for him, that is. I don’t go into work until three, and he’s told me I’m welcome to stay in bed as long as I’d like, but he has an early morning meeting.
When I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen downstairs, I got up long enough to take a pee and brush my teeth, but then I slipped back into his bed, moaning with satisfaction. His is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. The mattress is so soft and the pillows are so fluffy. The comforter is so thick it’s like being hugged by a cloud. I could stay in this bed all day.
When he comes back upstairs, in only his boxers, he sees that I’m up and comes over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I thought I heard you. Did I wake you?”
I shake my head, still feeling languid and drowsy.
“Good.” He gives me a soft kiss. “Sleep in as long as you want. I’m going to take a shower.”
Poor guy. We’ve only had something like four hours of sleep. He gives me another kiss then disappears into the bathroom. I’m tired enough that I think I’m going to drift off, but I’m too aware of him. He’s awake and I want to be, too. I don’t want to miss anything.
From inside this cozy cocoon, I end up watching him get ready for work. It’s arousing as hell. From the way he comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and a hint of dampness across his bare chest, to the way he fastens his pants and buttons up his white shirt. My eyes follow his strong, confident movements like I’m partaking in a dream.
