Double Dare

by Melissa Whittle

“How many times have you run naked down the street?”

  “Once.”

  He glanced down at Emma and brought his gaze back up to her face as if he could read her history on appearance alone. “How many reckless things have you done for your friends?”

  Defensive, she crossed her arms. “Doesn’t mean I’m a marshmallow. If your coffee was crap I would have turned down your offer.”

  “You would have, but that’s because you’ve got a sense for business. Though I have to question the free cookies.”

  “Oh, free cookies.” She sucked her teeth, shaking her head. “That’s a sure sign someone is soft and can’t run a business.”

  “And what exactly will my brother be doing from three to seven?”

  Emma swallowed, because she hadn’t figured it out yet. Depended on how long it took him to fill out the paperwork. She’d give him something to chew on while he went through it. Eating and filling out paperwork doubled the time. From there, she’d iron out a plan. “Paperwork and then errands.”

  He shook his head. “Plying him with dessert doesn’t count.”

  “You could have given him a job,” she countered; because there was no way Emma would admit he was right.

  “I’m not soft, but I’m not cruel. There’s the difference. I provide everything, and all he has to do is graduate from college. That’s the deal. He brings home crap grades, he’s out. I’m fair when life rarely is.”

  Tobias was straighter than an arrow. There was something comforting in knowing you’d get the same result every time, because there was nothing worse than someone with shifting ethics.

  “I won’t hold you up.” He lifted the box again. “Thanks, Mallow.”

  His tone was so deadpan she couldn’t hold back the laugh. It bubbled out of her throat. It may have been her imagination, but he grinned on his way out. A pang shot through her heart. She wished, for only a second, he’d turn that grin her way. A foolish fantasy. One more dangerous than serving Late Night on a first date. Another customer walked in, and Emma was more grateful than she could put into words.

  Chapter Six

  Stupid to be on his sixth set of squats, but it was just as dumb to flirt with Emmaline. Tobias would regret both actions in the morning. Sweat slid down his legs. The plain white walls shone in his peripheral, forcing him to squint. He’d turned one of the larger the guest bedrooms into a gym. Ripped out the carpet, put down mats and turned one wall into nothing but mirrors. Catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection, he noted the strain around his eyes.

  “Is something wrong?” The basketball jersey outfit hung on his brother’s lithe frame as he did curls.

  “No,” he said on a grunt. Tobias rested, swiping at the sweat on his face with a black towel. He began on his next set of squats.

  “What set are you on?”

  “Concentrating,” he gritted out, feeling the give in his knees. He’d better quit soon or he’d have more than regrets. Shaking out his legs on the cushioned floor, he tried to get to the treadmill before his heart rate slowed. He stabbed at the buttons to cue in a fast-paced walk. “What did you do at work today?”

  “Man, Emma—”

  “Miss Sharp.”

  His brother cut a look Tobias’ way. “She’s really good in the kitchen.”

  Josh stood, picked up another twenty-pound weight and began doing flies. No bulge of muscle, but definition. Tobias let an ounce of pride fill him.

  “Loosen your elbow,” he said. “She is, but what did you do?”

  The weights rested at Josh’s side and he shrugged. “Nothing. Filled out some paperwork. She kept interrupting me, wanting me to try some recipes. By the time I finished filling out the HR stuff, my shift was over.”

  He snorted. Marshmallow to the core and the thought made him frown. It wasn’t any of his business. Emmaline wasn’t trying to con Josh. The thought probably never crossed her mind. She barely had a plan for what his brother would do to draw a check.

  The woman didn’t have a dishonest bone in her soft, warm body. He missed a step. Chastising himself, he put his mind back on the task. Flirting could just be flirting. It didn’t have to go any further. Would it kill him to not jump from mindless actions to all the dire outcomes in one thought?

  “Tobias, are you ok?”

  “Yeah.” Josh was looking at him out the corner of his eye in total disbelief. Tobias said, “Did she tell you what you would do tomorrow?”

  “She needed me to come in early. Lunch. Meeting some guy named Roger.”

  “Roger?” He missed another step, but managed to get back into the rhythm by the next one.

  “Some lawyer. She called him on the phone.”

  His chest started to burn and he evened his breathing before asking, “For lunch?”

  “She was laughing and blushed a few times. Is that normal for a woman her age?”

  He’d noticed the blushing habit, but that was a cue Tobias was telegraphing his thoughts in his eyes. “For some people.”

  Lunch? He knew attorneys. No false gods came before the billable hour unless they could at least charge a .02 of an hour for it. “And she’s not old.”

  “She’s your age.”

  “Dear baby brother of mine…” He punched up the treadmill’s speed. Rubber slapped against rubber as he ran. “If you don’t see it, I can’t describe it.”

  As if speaking of the devil, he could see her again on the street. A better nickname would have been Lucky, and he could have seen her blush scarlet. But calling her Lucky would have thrown them into a sexually charged No Man’s Land he was trying like hell to avoid. Mallow, made her laugh, and that was fine because you laughed with friends and associates. Secret jokes didn’t cross the line.

  I used to laugh with my lover.

  “I’m not blind,” Josh said, insulted. “She’s a ten. Just for her age. Are you and her―are you ok?”

  Tobias slapped the abort button on the treadmill. “I’m fine. Stop asking me.”

  “Yeah, ’cause you’d tell me if something was wrong.”

  “What?” The comment stilled him.

  Josh kept his focus on what he was doing as Tobias had taught him. “Like I said, I’m not blind.”

  Blood roared in Tobias’ ears. Reality wavered and slipped into memory.

  He couldn’t see her face. Whenever he tried to see Gabriella’s face, her lifeless eyes would super-impose on the memory. But he could see her sculpted form, chiseled by the miles she ran in the morning. He could hear the huskiness in her voice. The white sheet wrapped around her leg, leaving her bare from the knee up.

  The livable sheets.

  Sweat clung to the hollow of Gabriella’s stomach as she breathed out heavily. “Partners, no matter how close, don’t live in each other’s pockets like we do. He’s sixteen.”

  Gabriella’s laugh filled the room, filled him. The interior of the room he couldn’t see, but knew was bare, so bare. “I’m conveniently here when he gets home from school. Boys are born with a sixth sense to know when sex is happening.”

  “Our parents just died. He’s the one who found my dad after the heart attack, and then my mom a week later. He needs time to adjust. He’s scared I’m going to leave him, too. Every day I go to work he’s frightened one of you are going to show up and start with the I’m-sorry-but speech. You’ve seen it. He’ll see you as a threat.”

  “Me? A threat?”

  Her delicate hand hung limply in his, covered in blood.

  “Tobias!” There was a note of tension in Josh’s tone.

  “Yeah?” The white walls and mirror came back into focus.

  Josh searched his face and then his shoulders hung with relief. “Are you going to start something with her?”

  He rubbed a hand over his face. “Of course not. We’re giving each other’s business a boost. That’s it.”

  Josh picked up the weights. Tobias’ forehead scrunched up. Confused, he tried to remember when his brother put the weights down.

&n
bsp; “Are you an eunuch?” his brother asked.

  His head snapped back at the question. “What?”

  “You don’t date.” Josh shrugged and picked up the reps where he left off. “You don’t get late night calls. Do you pay for it?”

  Disgusted, Tobias said, “Not your business and no.”

  “It is when all you do is breathe down my neck. You spend time with a ten and don’t look twice at her.” Josh hesitated, “And zone out.”

  “Sex would cure all this?” He shook his head. “Thought I taught you better.”

  “Wouldn’t cure what’s wrong, but it sure as hell would help. More chasing her and less chasing me. She’s nice.”

  Josh hesitated a beat longer this time, but finally added, “Tomorrow, after work, I’ll be hanging out with some friends. Guys I met at the college campus when I had to turn in my school schedule. Won’t be home until late, if at all.”

  Tobias had to force his expression to stay flat because he wanted to laugh. “Is this where you tell me about the birds and bees?”

  Josh grinned at him. “If you don’t know it, I can’t describe it.”

  *****

  “I need coffee before I can be subtle.” Sasha yawned and put her head down on the front table in Sweet Tooth.

  The plate scraped along the table as Emma slid her friend a biscuit drizzled with butter and honey. “I don’t know why subtle has to be attempted. First of all, I’m a grown woman. If I don’t want to do something, I shouldn’t be bullied into thinking differently.”

  “Bullied is a strong word to use,” Abigail said.

  Emma shrugged. “Encouraged. When you know it’s more effective to let me tell you how wrong you are and then let me stew.”

  “She’s right.” Sasha didn’t open her eyes. “Why am I here?”

  “Second, I’ve stewed.” Sasha didn’t even twitch at Emma’s announcement. “It was just mean to make her come,” Emma said.

  “If we have to get up this early, so does Sasha,” Abigail said. “At least once a year.”

  “It’s only fair.” Sasha yawned again. “Can we go get coffee and watch her flirt with Dark and Dangerous?”

  Emma pushed the plate closer to Sasha. Abigail was already halfway done with hers. “Eat first. And why aren’t you guys wondering what I’ve stewed about? I’m being mysterious.”

  “We know you,” Abigail started. “You’ve probably been thinking about Tobias off and on since you guys kissed. Then you find out he’s the owner of the business you want to work with. Plus, he’s been making eyes at you, but you haven’t stopped him in his tracks. You would have cut him at the knees by now.”

  Sasha yawned again, jaws stretched before straightening. “A sure sign you were thinking about him and what you wanted to do with him.” She widened her eyes and blinked several times. “Since we’re on the subject—you guys are the reason why I can’t find a decent man.”

  “How is that possibly on the subject?” Emma shook her head.

  “Whoa!” Abigail put up her hands. “How did we get the blame?”

  “You,” Sasha pointed to Emma, “make sure I’m fed. You,” she pointed at Abigail, “make sure my boundaries are pushed and that I’m not letting myself fall into a rut.”

  “Watching naked men pose all day can turn into a rut?” Emma asked.

  “I understand what a male OB/GYN feels like,” Sasha said. “The odd one might make your brows rise, but if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. Anyway, at the end of the day all I need is my itch scratched.”

  Her statement quieted the table. Emma shook her head, refusing to believe the theory. “Maybe you haven’t found the right man. I mean, I only cover one part of the food group. Abigail only points out what we’re doing wrong. She’s Type A through and through.”

  “I tell you when you’re doing something good.” Abigail crossed her arms.

  Emma scoffed. “The last time?” She added, “Without sarcasm.”

  “This biscuit is delicious,” Abigail said.

  “My food doesn’t count either.”

  Abigail pursed her lips and then said, “You have a lot of room to find a man who picks up our slack.”

  “Oh.” Sasha considered the conclusion and polished off the biscuit in two bites. “So, why do I keep finding losers?”

  Abigail and Emma shared a look, and unfortunately it was Emma’s turn to tell their friend. “You only date art models,” Emma said softly.

  “No, I don’t.” Sasha frowned.

  “Last five, for sure,” Abigail pointed out.

  “No,” Sasha said slowly, swiping up left over honey with her finger. “The last seven.”

  “Seven,” both Emma and Abigail said.

  “Speaking of which, how is Miguel?” Emma asked Abigail.

  “We’re approaching six months.”

  “Seven. Crap,” Sasha said and then shrugged. “But I’m not ready for marriage.”

  “You could date,” Abigail said, because they were crossing into well-covered territory. “You currently don’t date. You sleep.”

  “There’s rarely sleep.” This was said with a sly smile.

  “Same difference,” Abigail said.

  “There’s a difference.” Offense creased Sasha’s brows. “Sleep implies a want to be around the person longer. A desire that goes beyond sex.”

  Her friends debated that point, but Emma’s gaze had been drawn out the window. From the seat she could Tobias unlocking the door to Caff-aholic. Another black shirt. The man dressed as though in mourning. He rarely laughed or smiled. Not her type, but the perfect guy to befriend, especially since they planned to become business partners. She had her friends and he had no one, yet. What would it hurt to offer something a little more between them?

  The fact he probably never did anything halfway would keep them on even keel. Yeah, he desired her, Emma knew it, but he wasn’t knocking down her door to see more of her. A physical attraction was understandable but controllable. They wouldn’t indulge themselves and scratch the itch they had for each other. An urge Abigail and Sasha would likely encourage and instigate. Strong emotions wouldn’t get in the way of their relationship. If she presented the idea of being just a little bit more to him it would be, “You’re a man. I’m a woman. We’re single. How about we spend time together, you know, when we want company?”

  See, no emotion involved in that. It would be like dating, without pressure. All that dour of his would ensure no entanglements. It would be a nice change of pace to feel desired too, because Emma would bet money he wouldn’t smile if she surprised him. She’d get that look, and Tobias would mentally remind himself it was rude to undress her in his mind.

  Settled on the plan of action, Emma scooted out of the booth, leaving her friends to argue. When the morning chill prickled the hair on her arms, she cursed. She’d forgotten his jacket again. Checking for traffic, she crossed the street to him. The heeled boots clacked against the sidewalk. She hadn’t had time to slip into flats yet.

  His gaze started at the shoes then up until their eyes met. There was such an intensity to it and so much passion behind the look, it left no doubt he’d mentally taken off every stitch of her clothes. Her lips parted remembering the rough way he’d suckled her lips and tongue. A feverish heat consumed the skin his gaze brushed over. In its wake she couldn’t find the earlier bemusement at the look.

  “Morning,” she said, breathless.

  The shuttered gaze came first, and then he mentally placed her clothes back on. “Morning, Mallow.” He stepped into the store, waited for her to enter and locked the door.

  “What brings you by?” He slipped his keys into his pocket.

  “One friend brain dead,” she said. He started to take down chairs and she helped. “The other one can’t stem the flow of chatter. I’ve perfected the sleeping with my eyes open method.”

  Efficient. He had all the chairs in place and was heading behind the counter. He was like a freight train, the kind that couldn�
��t stop on a dime.

  “Sounds like an emergency,” he said. “Espresso. The sweetest blend I have, but nothing added. For you, a mix of regular coffee and cappuccino with all the frills.”

  Was he flirting? Maybe he always had that lightness in those midnight eyes. Why couldn’t he smile and let her know?

  He set to work and within minutes a bitter yet sweet tang filled the air. “How’s my brother working out so far?”

  He didn’t chuckle, but she heard the tinge of laughter in his tone. “A huge help. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

  He placed the espresso down. No smile, but the same intensity and passion in his gaze like before. He’d undressed her in his mind, shook his head and put the clothes back on. She glanced down. The starched white shirt was buttoned up to the top. She undid the first two buttons. No cleavage but skin. If he stumbled she’d know, because that meant he wasn’t only paying attention to details but to her. And wouldn’t it be fun to see if she could stand in front of the freight train and make it stop? Would it hurt to get singed with another one of those looks?

  “In case you were wondering, today he’s coming in early to cover the store,” she said.

  “So soon?” He babysat the coffee maker and didn’t turn around to look at her.

  “You trained him well already. He can dance circles around me and it’s my store.”

  A muscle flexed beneath the black shirt. He was turning. Emma held her breath. Something flickered behind his gaze. Tobias’ hand slowed when he placed the plain cup of coffee onto the counter. Like there was a caution sign between them, he didn’t reply, instead he began to make her cup. It wasn’t enough of a tell to know if it were the change of details or Emma.

  Yeah, Emma could ask, but it had been awhile since she was the one in the driver’s seat. She’d become complacent in men asking her out. She forgot how nerves could make the steadiest of hands shake. For goodness sakes, the man had to have some sort of tell that said go ahead, ask for more. With his back to Emma again, she undid a third button and this time there was the barest hint of cleavage.

  Tobias never brought up their first meeting in a sexual manner. Maybe that’s why she was obsessed with getting a reaction. Even a mature man would have at least one dirty joke in his arsenal. He didn’t give her the nickname Bare. Or Jiggle, because no amount of exercise could ever truly offset taste-testing desserts on a daily basis. No. He got stuck on the reckless part of her being naked. Not the naked kiss part of her being naked.