In Your Arms

by Shannyn Schroeder

  Damn. Emma never would’ve guessed her mom would offer such meaningful advice. She knew she was harder on her mom than Brandi probably deserved.

  Emma didn’t have an answer to Brandi’s question. She hadn’t thought about it. She’d spent so much time telling herself Sean was a good time, a way to have fun while waiting for a real man to come along, that she hadn’t considered what she’d gotten out of their time together.

  Sean was sweet. Bringing her birthday cake when she was upset, delivering cupcakes for her whole class, giving her a ride all over the place while her car was getting fixed, making sure Nicky actually changed her oil . . . Sean had done plenty to show that she mattered to him.

  She still didn’t know if he was the guy to fit her life. And maybe it didn’t matter because of how they’d left things. But she had no doubt he was a real man.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After days of thinking, Sean had made a decision. Kind of. He wanted Emma back. He knew he was going to have to prove to her that he was different. He had no clue how to make that happen though. So he swallowed his pride and knocked on Jimmy’s door.

  Moira answered. Her eyes popped wide. “Hey, Sean. What’s up?”

  “Uh . . . I’m looking for Jimmy. He around?”

  “No. He got tied up at work.”

  Damn. Figured that the first time Sean put in some effort, he managed to fail. He turned to leave.

  “Wait. Want to come in?”

  He looked at his soon-to-be sister-in-law.

  Before he could answer, she tugged on his arm. “Come on. Tell me what’s going on. I’m better at the whole talking-shit-out thing than Jimmy is anyway.”

  She had him there. So he let her pull him through the door and he followed her to the kitchen.

  “Beer or coffee?” she asked over her shoulder.

  He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since his weekend bender, and although part of him wanted that drink, he said, “Coffee would be good.”

  She pulled two mugs down from a shelf and filled them. “So what’s going on?”

  He accepted the cup and sat at the kitchen table. After a quick drink, he filled her in on everything that had happened with Emma.

  Moira’s first response? She rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Men.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I fucked up. But I listened to everything Jimmy said to me and I want to get her back. I’m not sure how to make that happen.”

  “What do you have worked out so far?”

  “I need to get an apartment. That part is easy. It’s not like I’ve never lived on my own before.”

  “Why don’t you?” Moira asked. “I know Jimmy moved back home to keep an eye on your dad.”

  Sean shrugged. “It was easy. I lost a roommate and I didn’t feel like looking for a new one.”

  “Okay. So what do you need help with?”

  “I need to be more like Jimmy.”

  Moira snort-laughed, and he questioned why he’d thought talking to her was a good idea. It was almost as bad as talking to Norah.

  “I don’t mean to laugh at you, but you can’t be like Jimmy. He’s one of a kind. Maybe you should explain what you mean by that.”

  “I mean I need to be a man, have a steady job, take life seriously, I guess.”

  “You guess? You have a job, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Is it the kind of job you see yourself doing in ten years? Do you love going to work?”

  Hmm . . . he’d never thought about that. At least not since Emma had questioned his career choices. “I don’t know. I like working on cars.”

  “Is there something else you’d rather do?”

  He thought about it and came up mostly empty. “I love my motorcycle. It’d be great if someone paid me to ride around and work on it.”

  Moira smiled. He imagined Emma giving one of her kindergarteners the same smile. “I doubt someone will pay you for riding your bike, but what about motorcycle repair or custom building? You can create your own career. I did. I never heard of anyone getting paid to go to parties and write about them, yet that’s what I do.”

  “I don’t know. I’d have to get certified, and custom building . . . that’s a ton of work and connections I don’t have.”

  “You need a plan, and I can’t give you that. Jimmy can’t give you that. Neither can Emma.” She took a drink of coffee. “Whether it’s cars or motorcycles or whatever, you choose your career. I don’t think Emma cares what it is as long as you do. As long as it’s real for you. Decide what you want and go for it.”

  He thought that was what he was doing by going after Emma. Again.

  “Okay. So that’s job and apartment. What else?”

  He blew out a breath and chugged a gulp of coffee. “I need to not punch people.”

  Moira laughed again. And then laughed some more. She had tears leaking from her eyes before she took a deep breath to calm down. He saw nothing funny about it.

  “You O’Malleys are so freaking funny. Why do you feel the need to punch people?”

  “They piss me off.”

  “Try again, Sean. I know you can control it. Last summer, when you got into it with the idiot down the street at the block party, you were able to control yourself until he threw a punch. When can’t you control it?”

  He thought back and realized that the last two times he’d punched someone, outside of a hockey game, was because some guy hit on Emma. “The last couple of times it was to protect Emma. Guys groping her at a bar.”

  “Well, that’s admirable in a way. I’m sure Emma could appreciate the thought behind it. The real question is, did you hit first before seeing if she needed you to protect her? Or were you punching to stake your claim?”

  Shit. He didn’t want to answer that.

  Moira winked. “You don’t have to say it. I get it. It’s the caveman in you. Between your dad and Jimmy, it’s really not all that surprising.” She rose and refilled her coffee. “You can keep it in check if you want to. She needs to know that.”

  He knew Moira was right, but he was afraid that even after meeting all these goals, Emma still wouldn’t take him back. He wasn’t sure he could fit into her world.

  He stood and set his cup in the sink. “Thanks for the talk. I’ve got some thinking to do.”

  “I’ll tell Jimmy you stopped by.”

  “Thanks.”

  Sean went back home and tried to figure out what he really wanted. He was twenty-seven years old and had no plan for anything. Emma was right. He was no different than he’d been at sixteen.

  * * *

  Emma had gone back and forth with herself for over a week thinking about Sean. She’d never been the shy type to wait by the phone, but this thing with Sean felt different. Part of her longed to call him and see if they could get on the same page, but then the other part of her feared she was caving and changing who she wanted to be. For a guy. And she definitely didn’t want that.

  So she opted to wait. If Sean wanted her, wanted them, then he had to make a move. It might’ve been the wimpy way, but she didn’t want to have to fight for everything. Then, one day, everything changed.

  Barb knocked on Emma’s classroom door at the end of the day. Emma stared at student papers, trying to decipher the stories being told based on the pictures they’d drawn. She wasn’t having much luck, so she was grateful for the interruption. “What’s up?”

  Barb led with, “Don’t be mad.”

  “Okay.” What could Barb possibly do that would make Emma mad?

  From behind her back, Barb produced a small bouquet of roses. Emma felt her eyes go wide. Barb handed her the card first.

  “Before you read it, you should know that he called the school to ask me if I thought you’d get mad over this. I told him no, so if you’re going to be mad at anyone, it should be me.”

  Emma pulled the card from the tiny envelope. “Who gets mad over flowers?”

  The card simply read, I’m sorry.

  Nothing else, not even
a signature. But at least it was something. Emma smiled and took the flowers. Just as she was about to give up on him, he surprised her.

  “So, not mad?”

  “No, not mad.”

  “Good. Now what are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know. Yes, the flowers are nice, but so were the cupcakes. That doesn’t make up for punching a guy in a bar and making a scene.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes.”

  Emma inhaled deeply and puffed out the breath. “I know. The issue is with me. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m tired of it. I’ve been trying to live a different life. I’ve worked really hard at it, and sometimes it feels like Sean will set me back.”

  Barb winked at her. “Sometimes a setback is worth it.”

  Crap. Now Barb sounded like Brandi. “That’s not much help.”

  Barb rolled her eyes and left.

  Emma stared at the pages in front of her and knew it was a lost cause. The scent of the roses distracted her, so she packed up the papers and stuffed them in her bag. She debated whether to leave the roses in her classroom or bring them home. She decided on home. As if they might influence her decision-making process.

  She waved to the office staff as she headed out and hugged the flowers close as the cold November wind snapped at her. Hard to believe Thanksgiving was right around the corner. She’d have to start planning the meal. Ever since moving out on her own, she’d been cooking holiday meals. It gave her a chance to try new recipes and avoid eating pre-packaged anything.

  She parked in front of her apartment, so deep in thought about Thanksgiving that she almost missed Sean standing in front of her door. She did a double take because while he looked like Sean, something was different. Either way, she couldn’t stop the smile from curving her lips. Few people had that automatic effect on her.

  “Hey,” she said. “Thanks for the flowers.” She shifted them in her arms and immediately felt foolish. Like the guy didn’t know what he’d sent?

  “Glad you like them. And didn’t toss them in the trash.”

  She winced. “Ouch. I know I can be a bitch, but I’m not that bad.”

  The wind whipped her hair around her face, reminding her how cold it was. She was never cold with him because her blood always raced. Then it hit her. How Sean was different. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket. Or jeans. She shook her head and asked, “You want to come in?”

  He nodded, but said, “I know it’s last minute, but I hoped you might be free for dinner. I made reservations.”

  “Oh, wow. Um . . . okay. Why don’t you come in and I’ll change?”

  He nodded and followed her into her apartment. Things felt strange and unsettled between them, and Emma didn’t like it. But she also couldn’t put her finger on what exactly was different. If they were going to make this work, it had to be about more than sleeping together.

  After putting the flowers in a vase with water, she set them on the kitchen counter. Sean paced in her living room.

  In her bedroom, she took her hair out of the ponytail and brushed it out, mostly because she knew Sean preferred her hair down. She changed quickly into a little black dress and did her best not to imagine Sean peeling it off her. Grabbing a sweater, she did a makeup check one last time and felt her nerves tumble through her stomach. When was the last time she’d been nervous for a date? Suddenly, this all felt too important.

  She shook the thoughts free and went back to the living room to meet Sean. His eyes widened when he took her in, which made her feel more than it should.

  “Wow. I think you make me look underdressed.”

  She neared him. “You look more than fine.”

  “I really missed you. I’m sorry for what happened.”

  Emma leaned up and kissed his lips. It was short and sweet. “That’s why we’re going to dinner, right? So we can talk. Figure things out.” She knew she owed him an apology as well. She just needed to figure out the right words.

  “Absolutely. I want you to know that it’s not lost on me what a big deal this is for you. Even going to dinner with me right now. I get it.”

  She saw in his eyes that he did get it, and it made her heart swell. If he kept this up, she’d never be able to hold her ground. She’d cave like nothing that had happened mattered at all.

  Sean stepped away and took her hand as they left her apartment. It was a hell of a way to start fresh.

  * * *

  Sean felt like he wanted to puke. From the uncomfortable clothes to the look Emma gave him after they kissed, he didn’t know how he would make it through tonight. But he kept telling himself that if he made it through, he’d have Emma again, and that was worth all the discomfort.

  “Barb told me you called the school to ask her if it would be okay to send me flowers.”

  “Yeah. Wasn’t easy either. That secretary is like a pit bull. I asked to talk to Barb. I don’t know Barb’s last name. So then the pit bull is asking a million questions about who I am and where I’m calling from. She made me feel like I was being interrogated for a crime.”

  Emma laughed. “That’s part of her job. She screens everything.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

  “It was sweet. But like I told Barb, I couldn’t get mad over flowers.”

  “I didn’t know if getting a delivery would be drawing too much attention.”

  “It might. But then everyone would be jealous. I can live with that.”

  Then she chatted about school the rest of the way to the restaurant. Sean nodded and laughed when she told a funny story, but his mind wandered to how he was going to explain everything to her. She needed to understand him the way he understood her. That might be painful.

  They were seated and Sean ordered for them, based on Moira’s recommendations, of course. Then he reached over and grabbed Emma’s hand. If he stayed connected to her, it might take the edge off. “So. About the bar.”

  She waved her free hand. “I get it, Sean. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

  “No, you don’t. Yeah, I am hotheaded and tend to use my fists first, but that’s not what that was about.”

  Her forehead crinkled. “What then?”

  “For the first time, I felt something real with someone. With you. And it scared me, but what scared me more was that you might want that Caleb guy. I know how guys look at you. They all want a chance, but you were with me and I couldn’t let some asshole put his hands on what was mine.”

  As the words slipped, he knew they were wrong, but he couldn’t pull them back in. Her mouth and jaw tensed, and he closed his eyes for a second to think.

  “No, I don’t think you’re property. I know that came out wrong.” He blew out a breath and reopened his eyes. “I go crazy seeing another man’s hands on you. I won’t apologize for that. I don’t like to share. I will apologize for the way I handled it. I told him to back off. He didn’t listen. Some guys, you need to make listen. But I should’ve walked away with you.”

  The look on her face softened so he figured he’d backpedaled enough. The waiter arrived with their drinks. When he left, Sean said, “I never meant to embarrass you.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “And I shouldn’t have snapped at you outside the bar. I think the fight brought out other things that were bothering me that I hadn’t given voice to. Things I ignored because I was having a good time.”

  Emma took a long drink. Sean wasn’t sure if she planned to say more. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

  “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you. I was frustrated, and I got mean.”

  “I get that. And I want you to understand.” Here went nothing. “I like being a mechanic. There’s something about getting my hands dirty and fixing something that I like. I don’t have any other career ambitions.”

  “I don’t care that you’re a mechanic, Sean. There’s nothing wrong with that. But if it’s just a job, not something you really like or are passionate about, something you�
��re invested in, it makes it easy to act stupid and get fired or quit on a whim because you don’t care enough to stick it out. In my early twenties, I worked a slew of jobs. Bounced from one to the next. As long as I had some cash in my pocket, I didn’t care. But when I started teaching, it was different. I love it.”

  Sean stroked her hand as she spoke. He loved the feel of her skin, and he loved that she hadn’t pulled away even more. “I don’t know that I’ll ever have that. I don’t know if everybody does. But I talked to my boss about getting certified for motorcycle repair. I know a lot, but knowing doesn’t matter without the piece of paper to prove it. I’m going to work on that, and he’s going to give me space to start taking on motorcycles. It’s a good time to start since we won’t have too many customers with winter coming.”

  Her smile brightened her whole face. “That’s awesome. I half expected that you’d gotten fired after the last time we talked. You said you didn’t care about your job.”

  “It all worked out.”

  The waiter arrived with their meals, and Sean reluctantly released Emma’s hand. He decided to wait for the rest of the conversation until later. Talking over food seemed weird. Like he wanted to bare his soul over prime rib. While they ate, he told her about the certification process, and she talked some more about the kids at school.

  When they were done eating and their plates were gone, Sean reached for her hand again. “I want to talk to you more. Would it be okay for me to come home with you? Just to talk and figure out where we are.”

  “Yes.” Her smile was small and hinted at the flirtatiousness he was used to seeing from her.

  In the quiet of the car, he started, anxious to get through as much as possible. “I know it bugs you that I live in my dad’s basement, but it’s not because I have to. I was going to go rent an apartment to prove to you that I know how to pay rent and bills, but if I’m going to live on my own, I decided I want it to be mine. I’m going to buy a place. A townhouse or condo or something.”

  “Really?”

  The question rankled him because it was as if she didn’t think he had the potential to buy.

  “The whole time I’ve been living at home, I’ve put away the money I would’ve spent on rent and bills.” He lifted a shoulder. He needed to be totally honest. “Okay, I splurge on stuff because I can, and some months I don’t save as much as I should, but I have enough for a decent down payment. I don’t think I can get a mortgage right now with my spotty work history.”