She disconnected, and when she turned, she almost crashed into Sean.
He steadied her with a hand on her hip. Most guys would’ve grabbed her arms, but not Sean. No fear of PDA for him. “Everything okay?”
With a deep inhale, she said, “Yeah. Any idea when my car might be ready? I need to go see my mom.”
“I called while you were on the phone. Dominick hasn’t gotten to it yet, but I’ll take you.”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to draw him into her family drama. “There’s no reason for you to leave. I’ll hop on the bus.”
He put an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know if I like letting you out of my sight. You might not show up tonight, and I’m not nearly done with you.”
“You can give me the address for hockey. I’ll be there. Besides, I need to go home and shower and get fresh clothes.”
“Or I can drive you to your mom now and then back to my house, where you can borrow my car to go home before practice.”
As he spoke, he’d maneuvered them toward the street where the motorcycle was parked.
“Why would you give me your car?”
“I’m not giving it to you, just letting you use it. And believe me, it’s nothing special.”
Emma weighed her options. She absolutely despised taking the bus, especially in the summer, when so many people reeked of BO. She shouldn’t want to lean on Sean, but he was there, offering, making it easy. What could it hurt? As long as her mom didn’t see him, no one would know.
“You sure?”
He tilted his head in a sort-of nod. “Where to?”
“Schmitty’s. It’s a dive bar on Belmont.” She accepted the helmet he handed her. After he climbed on, she gave him basic directions to the bar.
The trip didn’t take long, and when Sean parked alongside the bar, she climbed off. “You can wait here. I’ll make this fast.”
He cut the engine and looked around. “You sure you don’t want me to come in?”
“I’m good.” She walked into Schmitty’s. She’d worked there all summer for extra money, money she hoped to put toward a down payment on a house. Something permanent. With her mom and Nicky constantly chipping away at her cash, though, she might be ready for retirement by the time she had enough.
The bar was dark. The windows were all set back from the wall so little light filtered through. Cigarette smoke clouded the air. One day, someone might care enough to come in and fine them, but the customers here didn’t seem to mind. Her mom’s cackling laugh came from the other end of the bar. A few of the guys sitting on stools swiveled to check her out, but most kept their attention on the drink in front of them.
“You made good time,” her mom said as Emma neared. She crushed out a cigarette in an ashtray at the edge of the bar.
Emma sat on a stool and dug through her bag for her checkbook. She knew better than to give her mom cash; it might not make it to the landlord. She wrote the check and handed it to Brandi.
Her mom folded the check and tucked it in her bra. Red and black lace peeked out from the edge of her tank top, which was cut too low. “Thanks, baby. I’ll get caught up next week.”
Emma smiled. They both knew it wasn’t true. Emma would never see that money again.
“You want a drink?”
“No, thanks. I have a friend waiting for me. I’m going to run to the bathroom really quick.”
Her mom nodded and went back to chatting with the customers at the bar. Emma strode into the bathroom and caught herself in the mirror. She’d taken her hair out of the ponytail, and loose, wild waves floated over her shoulders. With the exception of hair color—Brandi loved her bottle blond—Emma looked like her mom. Her damn bra was even showing. Emma sighed. That’s what she got for borrowing her mom’s clothes. She slid right back into old routines.
* * *
Sean looked down the street at the neighborhood. It wasn’t a bad place. He wouldn’t worry about his motorcycle being stolen, but Schmitty’s didn’t exactly look like a friendly neighborhood bar. When Emma called it a dive, she was being kind. He hung out at dives. This was a hole. He locked their helmets up and went to the door. She might think she was okay, but he remembered what had happened at the bar last night, the way that guy had pawed at her. His knuckles throbbed at the memory.
He shoved at the metal bar on the glass door. At least, he assumed it was glass. It was mostly obscured, making it appear dirty. Inside, his eyes needed a second to adjust to the dim lighting. The place was a pit. He glanced around and saw no sign of Emma. She wouldn’t have run off, would she? They’d been having fun.
He walked up to the bar and leaned his elbows on the edge. The bartender looked up from the opposite end of the bar and smiled. She was thin, and her hair was overly bleached. When she got close, he saw the heavy makeup of a woman trying to hide her age and failing.
“Hey, sweetheart, what can I get for you?” she asked with a craggy smoker’s voice.
“I’m looking for my friend. She came in a few minutes ago.”
The woman’s eyes lit, and she leaned across the bar with a leering smile. “Oh, honey, I’d be more than happy to be your friend.” She reached over and stroked his forearm.
“Sean.”
He turned to see Emma standing beside him. “Hey.”
“I told you to wait outside.”
“I got worried.”
“It was five minutes.”
He looked around the bar and raised his eyebrows. A hand clamped around his arm.
“Well, I’m glad you came in,” the bartender said.
“Mom, leave him alone.”
Mom? He looked at the bartender and back at Emma.
“Sean, this is my mom, Brandi.” Without a smile, she said to her mother, “This is my friend Sean. He came with me. Therefore, he’s too young for you.”
Brandi snorted. “No such thing, Miss High and Mighty.” She pointed up and down at Emma. “You’re wearing my clothes. Therefore, you shouldn’t get too uppity.”
Emma rolled her eyes, but Sean noticed the tension that had stiffened her body when she was on the phone still hadn’t left. This wasn’t the girl who had been grinding against him in the street.
“Uh, nice to meet you.” He offered his hand hesitantly.
Brandi took it and held tight. She wasn’t hideous or anything, but she didn’t get his motor running either. Looking at how she dressed, he now understood what Emma had borrowed from her yesterday.
“Let’s go,” Emma said as she tugged on his other arm. “See you later, Mom.”
Sean waved as he walked toward the door. Outside in the fresh air and sun, Emma released his arm. She looked up at the sky and inhaled deeply. He didn’t mind the sight because it pushed her tits out like an offering.
“So that was your mom.”
“Don’t feel too flattered. She hits on anything younger than seventy that still has a pulse.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.” She growled. “She does it to me all the time.” Then she shook her head. “Ignore me. You know how family is.”
From the little he’d learned about her family, he was beginning to think he didn’t really know. Yeah, he fought with his brothers, and his dad could be an asshole, but they didn’t stress him out the way hers did to her.
“I need cake,” she finally said.
“What?”
“I need cake. Is there a grocery store near your house?”
“Yeah.”
“Within walking distance? I don’t think I can balance cake and hold on to you on the bike.”
“It’s a couple of blocks away.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
She walked away before he could question the whole cake thing. They strapped their helmets on and he started the engine. Emma slid against him, her body contouring to his. He liked it. It had been a while since he’d spent any kind of real time with a woman. Sure, he picked up the occasional girl at the bar and enjoyed her company for the night
, but not a date. Not like this. He’d kind of forgotten what it was like to have a girl to hang out and do things with. He hadn’t avoided relationships exactly, but he didn’t seek them out either. The few he’d had in the short term had taught him they all wanted long term. And they wanted it fast.
He drove back to his house and parked. When they got off the bike, he looked at Emma. It didn’t seem like the ride had taken any edge off her frustration. “Still need cake?”
“Yeah.”
He strapped their helmets onto the bike and angled his head. “This way.”
They headed down the block.
“How is cake a need?” he asked.
“The same way when you have a bad day at work you say you need a beer. Or when you get dumped, you need a bottle of whiskey. My mom gets under my skin and I need cake.” She tucked her hands into the front pockets of her jeans while she walked. The movement created distance between them he didn’t like.
“If your mom does that to you, why did you go see her?”
Emma wiggled her shoulders as if to loosen them. “She needed money. Rent’s due and she was short. Again.”
She offered up the information like he’d asked what her favorite color was. He wasn’t sure he would air his family’s dirt like that. They turned the corner and jogged across the street. He didn’t know how much money teachers made, but he didn’t think it was enough to pay extra rent. Then again, Jimmy always managed extra money whenever any of them needed help.
“What about your brother?”
“What about him?” she asked as they cut across the parking lot of the grocery store.
“Why isn’t he helping her with rent?”
She laughed. “My brother was the one who took money from me to fix my car and didn’t, remember? He’s not reliable. Plus, he’s probably back living with my mom.”
Damn. He had nothing to say to that. The blast of air-conditioning hit them as the automatic door swung open. Emma paused, looked up and around, and turned toward the bakery. Sean followed. She kept walking, and he stopped by the coffee cakes. A chocolate-chip cake sounded good.
“What about this?” He held up the plastic container.
“Uh-uh. It needs to be birthday cake.”
Sean held on to the coffee cake but followed her to the refrigerated section. She looked at the display for a minute before choosing one. As great as Emma seemed, she sure had some weird quirks. She picked out a round cake with Happy Birthday written in blue handwriting. Red, yellow, and blue icing balloons decorated the edge.
Emma said nothing. With the cake in hand, she turned toward the register. Although she quickly offered answers to his questions, she wasn’t like other girls he knew, who would fill silence with any kind of pointless chatter.
“You okay?” he asked when they got to the self-checkout.
“I will be.” She scanned her cake, and he jumped in to scan his too before she could finish the transaction. Then he swiped his card to pay.
“You didn’t have to buy my cake.”
“I know I didn’t have to, but if I have a crappy day and someone buys me a beer, that beer tastes even better going down.”
His answer got the reaction he’d hoped for. A smile. Emboldened by her smile, he pushed on, “So why does it have to be birthday cake?”
She sighed and he thought she might not answer. “Birthday cake was the one thing my mom got right when I was a kid.”
He waited, hoping she’d explain, because how could anyone mess up store-bought birthday cake? They walked through the automatic door, and the heat of the afternoon swamped him.
“You met her. Even with that brief encounter, you can probably tell Brandi is far from a stellar mom. A lot of things were uncertain when I was little. But birthday cake was something we could always count on. It didn’t matter where we were living or even if she had a job, Mom made sure we had birthday cake on our birthdays.”
“It’s weird now that you mention it. I guess I always took birthday cake for granted. In my family, we’re all adults and we still make a trip to Blackstone’s to get a birthday cake.”
“For me, birthday cake is comfort.” She leaned over and bumped his shoulder as they walked. “I keep some in my freezer because you never know when you’re going to have a bad day.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, it’s not like I buy a cake and eat it all by myself in one sitting. It would be a waste to throw it out, so I cut it into pieces and freeze it.”
The walk back to his house was too quick. Sean liked Emma talking about herself. He didn’t know how he’d even managed not to realize how much he missed having a girlfriend. Then he remembered that every girl at some point pushed for something more than he wanted to give. He wasn’t about to put a ring on anyone’s finger. That kind of commitment would ruin his easygoing lifestyle.
* * *
Emma followed Sean back into his house. They passed his dad, who sat on the couch in the same spot. The entire way, she continued to question what the hell she was doing. She’d rarely talked about her reasons for eating cake. Past boyfriends assumed she had a wicked sweet tooth. Then again, those guys had never met her mom.
Emma’s love of cake was easier to explain once someone had encountered Brandi. She tended to leave quite the impression on most guys.
All Emma needed was to sit down and have cake. That would right her brain and she’d be okay. In the kitchen, Sean handed her a fork before she asked. She thought of requesting a plate, but decided she didn’t need one. Sean sat across from her with his own fork.
When she eyed him, he asked, “Is it against the rules to share? I want to understand how this works.”
She paused and considered it. It wasn’t a rule; she’d just never had anyone to share with before.
“Dig in.” She scooped her first bite and let the sweetness coat her mouth as she squished cake and frosting on her tongue.
Sean took a bite. “It’s okay.”
She shrugged at his assessment. She thought it was pretty good.
“You’d like Blackstone’s better.”
“That sounds like a pricey bakery. I’ve never stepped foot in one.”
“Not expensive.” He paused. “It costs more than this, but it’s worth it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She ate more cake, but even as the sugar rush hit, it wasn’t erasing the crappiness of her mom needing money again and hitting on Sean. Emma knew better than to let it bother her, and most of the time she could laugh it off. But not today. She wasn’t sure why. “What time do you have to get ready for hockey?”
“I leave here around six.”
She checked her phone for the time. They had just under an hour. Where the hell had the day gone? She scooped up a little frosting and licked it off her fork.
“It’s not nice to tease.”
Good to know Sean recognized a hint. “Who said I was teasing? You have almost an hour.”
He jumped from his chair and grabbed her arm. Yanking her up, he said, “You’re still coming over tonight, right?”
“My cake!” she yelled as he dragged her to the basement door.
“Cake will be fine. Probably.” Halfway down the steps, he asked again, “Tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll come over.”
“Good, because I don’t think once will be enough for the torment you’ve been tossing at me all day.”
They got to the bottom of the stairs. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Pushing her against the rail, he wrapped an arm around her waist, and the other gripped her thigh and pulled it to his hip. It gave him just the right spot to be able to grind against her. The pressure of him at the juncture of her thighs caused a moan to rise up from her throat.
“Bedroom,” she managed as he attacked her throat. He used his tongue and teeth and wasn’t gentle, but she loved it. The slow throb that had been the soundtrack to her afternoon returned as a pulse between her legs, demanding attention. She forced her leg down and gave h
im a little shove. In a blink, he was back to dragging her through the house.
As soon as they cleared his bedroom door, he slammed and locked it. In the next motion, his shirt was over his head and he reached for hers. She pulled her shirt off for him, desperate to get him touching her again. Since the sugar rush hadn’t given her the euphoria she sought, she’d get it from Sean.
Before her shirt hit the floor beside his, he moved back in, palming her breasts and sucking on her neck. Need pooled inside her and desperation clawed for release. She unsnapped her jeans and shoved, allowing him enough access to stroke her. He circled her clit with the rough pad of his finger.
He moaned against her skin as he stroked her folds. “God, you’re so wet. At least I’m not the only one affected by your relentless teasing all day.”
With her hand on his head, holding him to her, she said, “That wasn’t teasing. It was foreplay.”
She felt his lips curve into a smile on her shoulder. A second later, his fingers thrust inside her, and she jolted with surprise and pleasure. “Fuck,” she released on a gasp.
He chuckled. “I’ll make sure you use all your curse words before you leave here. You’ll be borrowing from the future to make it through the night.”
She wanted to make a quip about promises, but the way his fingers moved, she had little doubt that he’d succeed. Tension coiled and wound tight inside her. She gripped his head and his shoulder and rode his hand, seeking the immediate release he offered. Pressing into him, she was close.
Without warning, he pulled out and stepped back. Her eyes popped open to see him shoving his own jeans down, a condom in his hand. His dick sprang free and stood straight out. Emma licked her lips as he rolled on the condom. She’d definitely be back tonight.
“Turn around,” he said. His voice carried an edge that rippled through her and shot to her clit.
She did as she was told. Angling herself between the door and the dresser, she gripped the edge of the dresser and laid her other palm flat against the door, shoving her ass in his direction.
In Your Arms Page 6
