Emma smiled at the concern in Amanda’s tone. “They’re on their way.” She decided not to tell her about the mix-up. They’d been talking on the phone earlier when Emma had switched to the portable so she could go in search of the too-quiet dog.
“Do you want me to come over?”
“Of course not.” She smiled, wondering if Amanda knew how motherly she sounded all of a sudden. Emma could always tell when she had something on her mind. She’d been about to ask her a question earlier when finding Cupid’s Arrow had cut their conversation short.
There was a significant pause before Amanda finally said, “So, what about what we were talking about earlier?”
What were we talking about? Several thoughts came to mind: the upcoming move, shopping, working out. She vaguely remembered Amanda mentioning something right about the time she’d discovered Cupid’s Arrow. “You’ll have to refresh my memory.”
Amanda expelled a heavy sigh. “The policemen’s picnic this Saturday? I asked you if you wanted to go this year.”
Oh, that. Emma rolled her eyes because it wasn’t the first time Amanda had asked her. In fact it seemed the topic came up every time they talked. It occurred to her that Amanda was paying way too much attention to her lack of social life lately, causing her to wonder if she had ulterior motives behind her invitation. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried her matchmaking skills on her.
“Come on, Mom, you’ll have a good time. You need to get out more; you’re not an old maid,” she pleaded, using a tone especially designed for getting her own way as it had many times in the past. “It’s been two years,” she reminded Emma, not needing to say more.
Emma knew Amanda was trying to be kind so didn’t take offense at her aggressive tone or the wise crack about her age. They were sisters actually. Yet with the thirteen-year age difference and without their mother around while growing up, Amanda had started calling her “Mom” at an early age. And it had just stuck.
“I don’t know.” Emma wasn’t completely convinced she wanted to be around a park full of men high on testosterone and attitude. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
“I don’t want to go alone.”
“Troy will be there.” He was Amanda’s boyfriend. These days they hardly went anywhere without each other.
Misunderstanding her reluctance, Amanda offered, a little too eagerly, “Well, what if I hook you up with…”
Emma eyes grew round; she wasn’t ready to be hooked up with anyone. Yet that didn’t stop the vision of a sexy policeman’s face from flashing before her eyes. Will he be there? Stratton was a small town yet they’d never run into each other before.
However, in the next instant she shook her head with disgust. “Forget it,” she broke in, panic over the thought making her heart miss a beat. “If you’re planning on playing matchmaker then I’m definitely not going.” Leaning her hip against the kitchen counter, she looked at the various size boxes along the countertop. She still had a lot of work to do. “I’m not finished packing and the movers…”
“I was joking and you have plenty of time for that. I’ll come over and help you. Will you go or not?”
Emma smiled at the impatience and persistence in Amanda’s tone. These days she had to remind herself that her little sister was all grown up and living on her own. Well, when she wasn’t staying at Troy’s, which was more often than not lately. She didn’t understand why they just didn’t move in together and make it official.
“Give me the details.” It wasn’t as if Amanda was asking her to take a ride over Niagara Falls or something. Emma didn’t have the heart to turn her down, or the energy to think up an excuse that would justify her not going. Besides, it was time she started getting out and doing things again.
“Great! You won’t be sorry.”
Emma’s brows rose with mild concern at the enthusiasm in her tone. It was a little over the top. “Well I hope not; this is just a picnic, isn’t it? Or did you miss my little comment about not setting me up?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Amanda rushed out. “You’re so suspicious,” she went on with an obvious smile in her tone. “The policemen’s picnic is always a lot of fun. The whole town turns out for it. There’s a ball game, and tons of good food…”
Emma’s mouth turned down, thinking about her widening waistline. She wasn’t fat, but lately she’d put on a few extra pounds. The mention of tons of good food wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear. Maybe if she worked doubly hard at the gym the next couple of days she could afford to indulge a little on the weekend.
In the end she found herself agreeing to meet Amanda on Saturday. At ten, at the park behind the police station. She thought about the last time she’d gone on a picnic. At least twelve years had passed. That is if joining Amanda at school for lunch one day and eating on the playground qualified as a picnic.
* * * *
By the time Saturday arrived, Emma was almost looking forward to it. However, when it came time to dress, she found herself in a real dilemma. Her picnic attire options were practically nonexistent.
Amanda had often accused her of dressing older than her age. After standing in her walk-in closet for twenty minutes she was inclined to agree with her. She scanned the row of dresses and skirts. For the first time it occurred to her that she’d been dressing to please Richard all those years. How could she not have realized it before now? Memories flashed through her mind as early as when they’d been dating. He’d always preferred her to dress conservatively and feminine.
Thinking about her ex caused Emma to pause from what she was doing for a moment. Two years had gone by since their amicable divorce. She wondered how long it would take to wipe away the memory of being with the same man for ten years. At least thinking about him and his betrayal with another woman wasn’t as painful anymore. She actually hoped he was happy finally, because she certainly hadn’t been able to make him happy. They’d sold their restaurant business and most of their joint holdings, splitting everything right down the middle. Once the divorce was final Richard hadn’t wasted any time in marrying his little waitress, who was twelve years his senior, and leaving town. The last she heard they were living in the sunshine state.
The house was the last asset between them and Emma had been allowed to live in it until it was sold. However, that all changed once she’d signed the papers two days ago. Now there was nothing left to prove they’d even been married. She hadn’t kept so much as a single photo of just the two of them together.
She gave herself a little shake, annoyed for letting Richard monopolize her thoughts again. He was history. She was looking forward to moving into her new town house down at the lake.
She reached for an old pair of jeans at the back of the closet, wondering why she’d kept them. A long time had gone by since she’d had a reason to wear them. She’d only purchased them to go on a weekend camping trip with Amanda and her class one year. Ten years and at least ten pounds ago… Doubts surfaced that she’d be able to get into them as she yanked them off the hanger. By the time she managed to work them over her hips and zip them up, she was gasping as if just running a mile on the treadmill.
She stepped out of the closet, and faced the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. Her mouth turned down at the picture she presented in skintight jeans and lacy bra. Maybe an oversized shirt would help complete the look she was going for. A quick glance at the clock on the dresser revealed it was nine thirty and she was running out of time. Well, who was she hoping to impress anyway? She quickly slipped the jeans back off and took a pair of scissors to them, cutting them off at mid-thigh before grabbing the ends of her shirt and tying them together at her waist. Sighing at her reflection, she slipped into a pair of sneakers, grabbed her purse and keys and headed for the door.
Amanda wasn’t going to recognize her.
Chapter 2
The Stratton Police Department was a small building located on the outskirts of town. It took Emma a
lmost five minutes to locate a legal parking spot for her little car. The last thing she wanted to do was park illegally at a police station of all places. Though it appeared some exceptions had been made, she couldn’t bring herself to park in any of the no parking zones. Recognizing Amanda’s black Toyota, she squeezed into the tight spot between it and Troy’s red pickup.
She could hear the picnickers long before she saw them. She followed the noise by walking around the station house and not cutting through it as she noticed several others doing. Her eyes widened with surprise. Amanda hadn’t been exaggerating when she said the whole town would turn out. Stratton wasn’t all the big, twenty-two hundred according to the last census taken. It appeared as if a third of them were there.
Smoke was turning the air blue as several grills had been brought in. They were cranked up full blast, as was a huge smoker several men were tending, beers in hand, laughing at something. Rows of picnic tables were hidden beneath bright plastic tablecloths, covered with platters of food and beverages. Huge coolers of ice had been set up on the ground next to the drinks.
The park was little bigger than a few football fields, yet a corner off in the back had been set aside for baseball. Right now there was a game going on and Emma headed in that direction to find Amanda. She reached the fence that protected bystanders from flying balls within minutes, and wondered if the small speck she saw out in left field was Amanda. She was certain she recognized the red and yellow Winnie the Pooh tee shirt her sister favored.
All at once the sun made an appearance from behind a cloud, reminding Emma she’d forgotten her sunglasses. Forced to shield her eyes with her hand, she was aware of a noise that ended her search for Amanda. Her attention swung to the pitcher’s mound where she watched him pitch the ball. The batter hit the ball back toward the pitcher who caught it. He pivoted and threw it to third base in one fluid motion. For a second she became absorbed with the game, and the split-second reactions of the pitcher that promptly ended the inning.
Everyone in outfield began running toward the dugout nearest her. Yet, they were a blur of activity around her. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the pitcher. Something about him struck a familiar cord in her, making her wonder if she’d seen him somewhere before. He was handsome. Not drop-dead gorgeous but good-looking in a rough, outdoorsy sort of way. Definitely worth a second glance.
He was wearing gray athletic shorts and a faded blue tee shirt with writing on it Emma couldn’t make out, stained darker in places that revealed he’d been playing hard. As he stepped off the pitcher’s mound, he whipped off his baseball hat, and ran his hand through his overlong matted hair. It was black and glistened like a raven’s wing, probably because of sweat.
She stared at his powerful well-muscled torso as he moved toward her. Purely feminine interest compelled her to take in the thick, corded muscles of his tanned thighs and long athletic legs. He definitely looked like a male in his prime. The way his shorts clung to the outline of his shaft, he wasn’t lacking there.
Realizing what she was doing, she gazed up at his face, and felt her cheeks turn hot with embarrassment. He was looking directly at her, a crooked grin on his masculine mouth that caused a little flutter in her belly. To make matters worse, Emma finally recognized him as Officer Handsome. Oh god! She was immediately reminded of the erotic delicious dreams she’d been having of him.
Just the night before he’d done wicked things to her with his hands and mouth. He’d loved her inside and out, literally! She grew uncomfortably warm just thinking about what she’d done after waking. Hot and wet. From that dream.
She began to touch her highly sensitive body under her nightgown. Only it had been Mike’s hands caressing her breasts. His fingers tweaking her nipples until she moaned with pleasure. Exploring her twisting body at his leisure while seeing to her needs as much as his hunger. Before Emma knew it her hands had moved beneath the elastic of her panties. And she was touching her throbbing, wet clit. Pretending it was Mike’s tongue that was there. Driving her wild until she came. God. The force of her orgasm had surprised her.
Emma hadn’t expected to run into Mike again. Now she wondered if she’d be able to retain her composure around him. She didn’t want to be obvious about her attraction to him.
She immediately averted her gaze, pretending she hadn’t just been staring at the front of his clinging shorts, or that he’d caught her. She quickly focused on Amanda who was running in and had yet to recognize her.
Amanda’s gaze skimmed over her before she did a double-take.
“Mom?”
Emma couldn’t help be aware that several heads turned their way as her voice carried.
“Where did you get those clothes?” She stared at Emma with something close to awe.
“Would you believe in my closet?” She grinned, following Amanda along the fence when she dropped her speed to join her. “I had to do a couple of alterations for the occasion.”
“You look…” Amanda paused as if searching for the right word, examining Emma as though she were a new species. “Different, sexy.”
Tugging at the shirt ends tied at her waist, Emma made a face. “I don’t feel sexy. And I can’t remember the last time I wore cut-offs. I think I cut them too short.”
“If I know the men around here, not short enough. And look around you; there’s a lot of women here wearing the same thing,” Amanda pointed out. Slipping off her glove she hung it alongside the others on top of the fence. “Did you just get here?”
Emma nodded. “How much longer before the game is over?”
“This is the last inning. Come around and sit in the dugout with us.”
Meaning her, Troy, and all the other players. Emma wasn’t sure she wanted to be stuck in a dugout full of men, especially with the one she’d been ogling a few minutes ago. Nevertheless, she found herself walking around to join Amanda anyway.
“Hi, Mom.”
Surprise filled Troy’s eyes as they gazed over the length of her.
“Wow!” His eyebrows danced crazily. “Hubba hubba!”
Hubba hubba? Where in the world had he heard that expression? Emma spared him an affectionate glance, and ignored his overzealous exclamation. He’d started calling her Mom about six months into his relationship with Amanda, which was now going on a year and a half. They’d talked about marriage but Amanda wanted to graduate from college first, which Emma wholly supported.
It wasn’t that she disliked Troy. She adored him. He and Amanda seemed suited to each other, getting along unusually well. Still, Emma knew career goals sometimes had a way of getting in the way of a growing relationship. These days Troy was very committed to finishing out his probation period with the police department, putting that first on his list of priorities.
She ruffled his sweaty blond hair, making a face and wiping her palm on her shorts. “Hi, son,” she teased with a smile on her face. “Are we winning today?”
His face suddenly looked years younger. “You bet!”
Smiling at his boyish enthusiasm, she glanced up. Her gaze fell on a dark shadow standing at the back of the dugout. Officer Handsome or rather, Mike Denton. The breath locked in her throat, and she knew the heat flowing through her body had little to do with the hot weather. In addition, she was sure her heart skipped a beat. No man should be that sexy in dirty, sweaty clothes. She glanced away before he caught her staring at him a second time.
* * * *
Mike was getting a drink from the water cooler located at the far end of the dugout when someone let out a low wolf whistle, drawing his immediate attention. He glanced up in time to see Emma making sure the buttons to her shirt were done up, a gesture he was sure she wasn’t aware of doing. His gaze then shot to Pete, a fellow teammate and the culprit behind the whistle. There was no doubt it had been meant for Emma. He looked as happy as a kid running after an ice cream truck, his eyes dancing with harmless admiration as he nodded at Mike in her direction.
Pete liked women in genera
l so his lusty expression wasn’t to be taken seriously. Still, Mike didn’t like the implication behind it. His gaze returned to Emma, moving over her lazily. He smiled when he saw her tug her shorts down at the back of her thighs. It was obvious she was uncomfortable as hell. She shouldn’t be; she had a nice body and very nice legs. It was while his eyes were taking a leisurely stroll back up to her face that Troy’s greeting finally registered, causing his eyes to narrow on her.
Mom?
His ears must be full of wax. That morning in her house he thought she’d looked around thirty but the way she was dressed now didn’t make her look old enough to be the mom of anyone over five. Furthermore, Mike knew for a fact she wasn’t Troy’s mom, which meant she had to be Amanda’s. He didn’t believe it. If she was over thirty he’d eat his hat. He looked long and hard at her face, seeing nothing that proved she could be the mother of a twenty-year-old. Nevertheless, he couldn’t deny the strong resemblance between her and Amanda.
Suddenly Emma looked directly at him and his mouth went dry, his pulse jumping erratically. Fuck! The impact of those dark, smoky eyes went right through him, catching him unaware and sending his senses scrambling into overdrive. Making him think about that morning in her house a week ago, when they’d looked at him with such soft appeal. He could still remember the disappointment he’d felt when he got back to the station later that day to discover her story had checked out. He’d wanted an excuse to return to her house.
He took note of her high cheekbones and the generous fullness of a mouth that made him hungry as hell. A delicately sculptured nose and softly rounded chin he’d noticed the other day but hadn’t taken the time to truly appreciate because of the situation, and lack of time. Scrubbed free of makeup, she had the fresh, healthy appearance of any Dove soap commercial model he’d seen on TV. Strands of soft curling hair escaped the confines of her loose ponytail, gently blowing against the slim column of her neck.
As his gaze roamed down her body again, a smile caused the corners of his mouth to curve upward. Mike estimated Emma was a good foot shorter than he was which he bet contributed to her soft, luscious curves. And being a man who appreciated the female form, he narrowed his eyes on the dark cleavage between her full breasts just as Pete moved to his side, snagging his attention.
PASSIONATE ENCOUNTERS Page 2
