She tilted her head, finally catching on the thing missing from today. There wasn’t an abyss on the horizon, but exhaustion. As though he fought the hard fight the day before and lost. He was still giving her grief, but out of habit more than getting a kick out of burrowing down into the mud with her just to get dirty. Less than three feet away and she missed him. The hard-won smiles, the heated glances and the matter of fact way he said her ridiculous nickname.
“You’re right though,” she said. “Someone like you wouldn’t understand passion. Much less how it ebbs and flows, but I guess you could taste the difference.”
“Passion is fleeting.”
“For some,” she said evenly but punctuated it with a sigh.
He looked affronted. “I am passionate.”
“If you say so,” she said.
He leaned back into the chair and settled into the argument. She hadn’t realized how lackluster his mood was until he turned toward her with a spark in his eyes. “Apparently, calling me a pigheaded, tasteless bastard wasn’t enough. You have to insult me.”
“Being passionless is an insult for you. Why?”
“Passionless is as close to saying dead as one can get. I feel, Emmaline. More than you can imagine.”
When he came into her home he hadn’t been feeling much, but the implied insult put a fire in his belly now. “I do wonder, Third Button,” she said.
“What do you wonder, Mallow?” The words came out low and dangerous.
The lowered octave sent a shiver down her spine. “What makes you feel alive? Maybe it’s all the coffee you drink that gives you the…” Emma moved her hands in a circular motion to act as if she couldn’t find the word. “Jolt. I was dropped into your lap, bare, your reaction was lacking.”
His brow lifted. “I didn’t molest you, so that’s an indication I’m lacking?”
She forced her lips again into a purse to keep a smile from giving her away. “You don’t mention it. You run cold more then you run hot for me. You,” she pointed at him, “are a man who doesn’t know passion. So, how you are able to taste it in food is beyond me.”
“I don’t know passion?”
“You don’t know passion, sir.”
“Right,” he said.
She worried at the levelheaded way he agreed. The worry moved into the danger zone when she caught the ghost of a smile before he swiped caramel from one of the rejected desserts.
“Tell me,” Tobias demanded. Like he should be trusted with that degree of lust in his voice. “What do you taste?” He cleaned the caramel from his finger, his tongue not missing a beat.
Taking up the challenge, because it took the defeat out of his shoulders, she leaned into his space, flicking caramel onto her finger. Emma gave herself a moment before saying, “That doesn’t taste passionless. I don’t know what your problem is.”
“Really?”
She lapped at the caramel and watched his eyes go dark. “Really.”
The word brought him closer into her space. It wasn’t breaking a rule if he needed it broken, especially if every inch gave him that light back into his gaze and the abyss receded even more. Another swipe and the last of the caramel topping disappeared into his mouth.
He gave it second. “It’s completely without heart.”
“You,” Emma moved closer as she knew he wanted her to, so the space between them disappeared, “wouldn’t know heart if one was put in your chest beating.”
“Low blow,” he said, and she was practically in his lap now.
Head tilted, waiting for the kiss, she spoke quietly, “You wish.”
His caramel-drenched mouth crushed hers. She expected the kiss to be rough and demanding, instead it slowly stoked the sizzle into a fire. Tobias knew passion. If not in words, in a tongue sliding over hers, testing, tasting and tantalizing. She sighed when his free hand cupped the back of her head, bringing her closer and deepening the kiss.
She showed him the depths he questioned only days before. She exhibited it to him in the way she accepted and then pushed at the limits of what he conveyed with his mouth. He wasn’t asking if she wanted him, but if she could handle his passion unleashed.
In answer Emma let her lips ask of him the things she couldn’t fathom letting slip from her mouth in words. He met and exceeded every expectation, making her head reel with the possibilities. What could this man give her? The silent question rocked her and left her breathless. Emma could only moan in reply.
She didn’t know how much time passed before she pulled back and said, “I didn’t give you permission.”
His lips met hers again and the urgency was there now as he dragged her deeper into his abyss. It washed over her in waves. Emma lost the ability of speech. She wanted to crawl into his lap and forget that he wasn’t the fun guy. And who was Prince Charming, again? How could she even think that kind of man could titillate or even bring her this riptide of passion, forcing her to find a way back to the surface.
No, that kind of man would save her from it. That man would protect her from this sinking and all-consuming pleasure with the belief the full brunt of emotions would kill her under the weight of it. Instead she felt more alive than she’d ever been.
He sat back in the plaid-draped wicker chair. “Feeding me desserts is implied permission.”
There was no abyss lurking in the shadows of his eyes, but a promise he’d keep breaking the first rule as long as they drew breath. It was hard for her to draw one at the silent assurance of more.
“Lie,” she said.
“You’re catching on. I have no doubt you won’t let this mishap happen again.” He gestured to the desserts on the table, but she knew he meant calling him passionless.
“If I do, you’ll let me know, I’m sure.”
“Bet on it.”
Goodness, he was right. She was impervious to the danger that lurked in those midnight eyes, and Emma didn’t care.
Chapter Fourteen
Tobias punched the buttons on the treadmill, kicking it up to a run. Running hot and then cold was a sin in the dating world, but he didn’t feel the need to ask for forgiveness. He assumed he made up for it when they kissed the day before. Unspent energy had nowhere else to go, for now, he thought and a smile spread over his face.
“I would ask, but I think I know,” Josh said. “How are you and Emma?”
“Miss Sharp,” Tobias corrected.
“My boss,” Josh said, and Tobias could hear the smile in his brother’s voice without looking, “told me I could call her Emma.”
He snorted. “Amazing that as your brother I’m the one who can drop kick you into next week.”
“Miss Sharp makes her feel old.”
Tobias chanced a glance at his brother on the squat machine. He was smiling, too. “We’re fine. As friends.”
“Kevin doesn’t put a smile like that on my face.”
“Shut up,” he said.
Tobias pushed another button, picking up the pace on the run. Josh wasn’t a sixteen-year-old boy anymore. Hell, when he was sixteen Josh had known more about the worse side of humanity than most adults. Tobias hadn’t brought his job home purposely, but some things couldn’t be helped.
“Nothing has happened, but it’s inappropriate to talk to you about it,” Tobias said.
“That smile was inappropriate.”
If any of his thoughts has spilled into the grin then his brother was absolutely right. “How are things going with the job?”
Josh sighed. “With this event coming up, she has me doing all sorts of things. Said she might need new tables and chairs after all. And, you say nothing happened?” Josh moved over to the bench and started on his flies.
“Nothing.”
“Were you home, after the date?”
No, he hadn’t been here. Not really. Tobias had been lost to Gabriella, their time together, her death and her funeral. He hadn’t been able to stop the replay or to dig his way out. “Yeah.”
“Did you, uh, were yo
u sleep?”
Not quite understanding where the questions were coming from, Tobias answered with hesitation, and with a lie. “Yeah.”
His brother stopped mid-pump. Something passed behind his gaze. His brother put down the barbell and stood there not saying anything. A tremble of anger vibrated the lithe form.
When he did speak it was sharp and curt. “I’m heading to Kevin’s.”
The quick shut down was so unlike his brother. Tobias replayed the last part of the conversation where it seemed things went off track. The truth of the situation hit Tobias and he completely lost his stride. Automatically his hands thrust forward, out to the rests, keeping him from face planting, or worse. Josh kept going.
Tobias slapped the machine off and closed his eyes. Young didn’t mean blind or dumb. His brother knew about his…condition. His problem wasn’t exactly something you could hide. No telling how often he trailed off after getting left-hooked by a memory of Gabriella.
He cursed in the quiet room and then cursed again louder. Anger drowned out the grief. All he ever wanted to do was protect his brother. Their parents’ death had cut Josh off at the knees. It had taken the breath out of him too, but he’d had Gabriella. She’d been there to guide him through it. She’d been patient when he put a halt to their relationship so he could take care of Josh.
He cursed again. His parents’ death had taught him nothing about living. Neither had Gabriella’s because apparently he was making the same damn mistake. He still hadn’t learned that putting a problem off didn’t deal with it. There was no right time. Get through and past one mess, only to step into a new one. And, he failed to take care of his brother. Josh kept him tethered when the past beckoned.
“Shit,” he said a final time, heading out to talk to his brother.
*****
Three hours later, Tobias’ panic banged out a drumbeat in his chest. His heart hadn’t slowed since leaving the house as if he was still running on the treadmill. He parked his car haphazardly in front of Emmaline’s house, bounded up to her door and knocked calmly despite the terror lurking beneath the surface.
She opened her door with a smile but it slowly faded. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find him and the police won’t do a damn thing since he’s eighteen. I’d get these types of cases.” He paced outside the door.
She had stepped back, which meant he was probably scaring the hell out of her. His brother was missing and that thought kept his brain misfiring.
“Young kid gone and everyone just thinks he isn’t a minor and could do whatever the hell he wants. By the time anyone starts to give a crap the person has been dead for days or weeks. Of course, all I could do at that point is find out how they died.” He stopped long enough to look at her. “I need you to help me find him.”
She motioned him inside, and it was the first time he noticed her clothes. Had to be a little past midnight, but Emmaline stood fully dressed. Behind her he could see into the kitchen, but the light wasn’t on.
“Who can’t you find?”
“Josh,” Tobias said.
“Oh.” She colored slightly.
“Oh.” He couldn’t hold back the bite in his tone.
“Hey,” she snapped back, and then she said it again softening her tone. “He’s here. In the guest room, asleep.”
“Why here?”
She blinked as though the question surprised her. “I don’t know. Why did you come here?”
Because Tobias knew he could. It wasn’t until that truth hit him that Tobias realized how on the edge he’d been since leaving Kevin’s house almost three hours ago. The stiffness in his body melted and formed into jelly. He had enough sense not to slide to the floor because this visit would be hard enough to explain without dramatics.
“I’ve been everywhere looking for him.” He shook his head. “That’s not the truth. I didn’t want to go back home only to see a police car waiting for me. Someone just sitting there, hoping I wouldn’t show up so they wouldn’t have to tell me my brother was dead.”
“All the comforting things I can say right now won’t take back the worry you’ve had for the past…” She looked at the clock on the small table by the door. A clock sat on it. “Wow. Three hours. You probably need a drink.” She motioned for him to follow her.
“No, you were probably on your way to bed.”
“If it was an imposition, I wouldn’t have offered,” she said while still moving toward the kitchen.
He followed, legs becoming steady again. His brother was ok. Asleep. If Tobias wasn’t so relieved he’d have gone up the stairs to strangle Josh, but then again, how would his brother know that missing for any amount of time would send Tobias into a panic? How did his brother know anything since Tobias never talked about what was wrong?
“Cognac or Clear?”
“Cognac?” he said with a laugh and it felt good, because he hadn’t known if it were possible for the past few hours.
“I’m highbrow like that, but I do have some corn whiskey Abigail gave me around here somewhere.” She rummaged in one of the cupboards, pulling down glasses. She then opened a cabinet filled with liquor and from his vantage point, built to store it so the liquor wouldn’t go bad. “Tell me about your day.”
Tobias settled onto one of the chairs at the table. “I’ve been alienating my brother.”
She poured the liquor with ease, but her brows had shot up. “If you said that to a therapist you’d owe three hundred bucks. What have you been doing?”
“Treating him like my kid brother who I had to protect.” He took the glass and had a moment of pleasure to see she sat down in the chair right next to his.
“Protect him from what?” Taking a sip from her own glass, she didn’t lean back, away from him. She was comfortable in his space.
“Me. The world at large.”
“Any bad emotion he might feel?” Her face softened. “You’re a good brother. I find it hard to believe Josh needed to be protected from you.”
“I’ve been lying to him and he knows it. I don’t know how long he’s known.” He shook his head. “And she was right. This whole time, she was right.”
Her face rose up in his mind and still it wasn’t the one that smiled or looked at him from hooded lids, but the one covered in blood. Her blood. It had been on his hands when he touched her face.
“Tobias?” Concern filled her voice.
Emmaline’s face came into focus again, worry creased her brow. The ponytail bound back her wavy hair and tightened the almond shaped eyes. The caramel tints were clear and without fear. She sat closer to him now. He shook his head. She should be scared. A man, a stranger to her for all intents and purposes, was gazing off into the distance mid-conversation.
“My fiancée. Died. Was murdered. She died right in my arms. Protecting my store. The one I left. Some kid thought it would be cool to rob the ex-cop’s coffee shop. Brie―Gabriella was stopping by while on duty. He wouldn’t put the gun down and he got off the shot before she could.”
He closed his eyes, readying himself for the deluge of images, but none came. He opened his eyes. “My brother didn’t know, or at least I didn’t think he knew about the relationship. She used to be my partner. Her being around all the time, on her days off, made sense.”
“He watched.” She paused, licking her lips in a nervous gesture, and then went on, “He’s been watching you deal with the loss of someone very close and dear. I bet you tried to shrug it off so he wouldn’t know or couldn’t tell. Your brother’s sharp. He’s seen right through you.”
Her simple understanding went beyond words. The belief no one could or would understand what he’d been suffering from popped like a balloon with too much air. Quite frankly, he didn’t know what to do, so he picked up his drink instead.
“You’ve gone quiet on me.” Something as dark as he sometimes felt, passed behind her gaze.
He stilled at her reaction. “I don’t feel right yet.”
“It takes
time.” She went silent a moment. “How about we kiss for a while? It’ll be life affirming.”
He quirked a brow. “Forgetting your rules?”
“Tonight they don’t matter.” She put down her cup and then moved over to him, straddling him in the chair. “It’ll make me feel alive, too.”
He took in a deep breath and the scent of vanilla filled him. She wasn’t trying to seduce him. The jeans and simple white shirt, three buttons open, hugged her curves, but it might as well have been lingerie. He knew what she looked like without an inch of clothes. He cupped her butt, brought her closer to his stiff manhood, and knew the skin there would be supple and soft beneath his rough hands. A moan parted her lips and he kissed her.
Tonight she didn’t pour lightness into him, but something more textured and unknown. The grief she refused to speak of overwhelmed him and sucked him in, surprising him and arousing his senses. He placed his hands on her arms, taking in the warmth of her and pulled her closer. Her breasts flattened against his chest and he scooted down into the chair. She moaned again and bit her bottom lip.
“Josh.” She shuddered, grinding along the length of him. “He’s upstairs.”
“I know. It’s just a kiss.” He took her tongue into his mouth again.
She laughed low, but it sounded pained. “Lie.”
“It is.” He nipped at her bottom lip until she parted her mouth to allow his tongue entrance. He pulled back for a second to ask, “What kind of pie did you feed him? Apple?” She hummed in agreement and he said, “I can taste cinnamon, too.”
“There’s some left. Amazingly enough.” She placed her hands on the sides of his face and took the kiss deeper. Minutes later, she said, “I can heat it up.”
“You. Off my lap.” It wasn’t the thought of the pie that had his head dizzy and so muddled that he forgot his next thought while kissing her. She shifted again and he remembered. “You getting up is probably a good idea.”
Double Dare Page 14
