Fiercely Emma: Cake Series Book Three

by J. Bengtsson

  “Get in.”

  Ass-guy looked totally stunned. “That’s a nice offer, but you’re a little late. I’m already here, and now I’m heading in the other direction, so…yeah.”

  “Get in,” I repeated.

  “Why? I can’t go into the festival with you.”

  “Who says?”

  “Uh…the security people. I think they hired Seal Team Six to guard the entrance.”

  “I know another way in.”

  “Oh, really?” He asked, surprised and instantly curious. “Does this way involve me going to jail if it doesn’t work out?”

  “Surprisingly, no.”

  “Well, hot damn. That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  “Somehow I believe you.”

  “So just exactly how are you planning to get me in?”

  “The valid ticket way.”

  The guy groaned, his face instantly falling as the recently departed despair returned. “You don’t think I already tried that? They’ve been sold out for months.”

  I grinned with a knowledge he didn’t have. My brother was afforded certain privileges that we mere mortals could only dream of having.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Last chance. Get in or go find yourself a ditch.”

  The guy evaluated me for a second and then reached for the back door, opened it, and shoved his stuff inside. He climbed into the passenger side, and his sweaty odor immediately permeated the car’s interior. Although I realized it was rude, his stink was rancid enough that I was forced to cover my nose with my crochet sweater.

  “Sorry,” he said, and took a quick sniff. His face twisted in disgust. “Oh, damn. That’s nasty.”

  I nodded my agreement. Again I imagined a team of pest control professionals fumigating my travel companion.

  “Just so you know, I started my day with deodorant, but even the Old Spice guy couldn’t overcome the disaster today became.”

  “You’re fine,” I said, my voice cracking.

  I could feel him evaluating me for a moment.

  “Okay, hold on,” he said, climbing out of the car and opening the back passenger door. My eyes followed his every move as I watched him grab some items out of his backpack. And then, before I could brace myself for impact, the mechanic pulled his shirt over his head, and instantly my stinky stranger transformed into a rippling Adonis. His upper body was long and broad, and the muscles I hadn’t given him proper credit for earlier were now glistening in sweaty, unbelievable perfection. His chest and stomach were riddled with bruises and scabbed over blemishes. They matched the faint black eye. Had he been in a bar fight or something? Surprisingly, that made him even hotter to my overly active imagination. Somehow I couldn’t imagine Dr. Schlong rearranging some guy’s face over a shot of tequila. I swallowed back my lustfulness and realized my mouth had suddenly gone bone dry. Dammit, if I hadn’t given him all my water, I’d still have some saliva left to drool.

  The mechanic caught me staring, and his eyes shone in amusement, although I didn’t catch his merriment until my own eyes had completed their full rotation of his very pleasing male parts. I caught his gaze, but instead of giving in to embarrassment, I simply smiled my appreciation. He blinked his surprise at my boldness and then looked away himself. Score. Finally I was back to my old ways of making others uncomfortable. He used his old shirt to mop up the sweat before applying deodorant under each armpit and pulling a fresh t-shirt over his naked upper torso.

  “Better?” he asked, arms out to the sides as he slid back into the passenger seat.

  I fanned my face with my hand. “I think I might need a shower now, but yes, better. And thank you for that.”

  He burst into laughter at my unexpected comment, but to his credit, he didn’t fire back with some snarky reply. I liked that. I’d grown tired of men who knew they were smoldering and wanted the world to celebrate with them. This one was a humble rarity among hot guys: he let his sizzle speak for itself.

  “I have something else you might like,” he replied, lifting his leg and revealing a nearly erased grease stain.

  “How?” I asked in astonishment. He was just one surprise after another. If my lava hadn’t been boiling before, it was now sending bursts of liquid fire though every nerve ending in my body. Speechless, I could only mutter, “Where? When?”

  “I swiped a salt shaker and spoon from the diner and worked it out on the ride over. Just for you.”

  It was those last three words that spoke to me and shook loose the first jagged pieces of steel from my hardened heart. This was no ordinary guy. It wasn’t just his dedication to my happiness that had me, it was the fact that he’d cared enough in the first place to remove a grease stain from his jeans for a woman he hadn’t expected to ever see again. There was something so endearing about that. My swoony eyes settled onto his beauty. Wow. Just frickin’ wow.

  He hadn’t caught on to my middle school girl worship because his attention was elsewhere – namely, my vents. Leaning into them, he smiled as the cold breeze hit his reddened face. “So just exactly how do you plan on sneaking me into a sold out festival?”

  “I have connections.”

  “Really?” He sat up straighter, his affecting eyes shining with interest. “Like what kind of connections?”

  “Like the kind of connections where I know people who can possibly get you in.”

  His brows arched, intrigue highlighting his handsome face. “Who do you know?” he whispered, conspiratorially.

  I put my hand up. “Do you want me to work my magic or not?”

  He grinned. “Work it!”

  I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face as I picked up my phone and texted Jake.

  Can you get me a ticket for a friend?

  What friend? The response arrived almost immediately.

  A friend, I replied, not wanting to go into specifics.

  Male or female?

  Gender’s not important, I wrote back.

  Ooh…a guy? Nice job, Em. I can’t promise I can get your ‘friend’ the same wristband you & the rest of the family have but I’m pretty sure I can get him a VIP or artist pass. Is that OK?

  Anything you can get would be great.

  I’ll text Sean and get back to you.

  Thank you. Is it rude to ask you to hurry? We’re outside the fairgrounds now.

  You couldn’t have given me earlier warning?

  Sorry. Hurry.

  I could feel my passenger still watching me. After a few seconds, he seemed to give up trying to figure me out, and instead, settled back into his seat. “Hey, do you mind if I turn up your air conditioner?”

  “Be my guest.”

  He rotated the knob to the highest setting until it was blasting out of the vents. My hair was blowing all over the place, so I aimed the slats in his direction.

  “This is the best thing I’ve ever felt in all my life!” he exclaimed. Then he stopped himself and smirked, “Well, maybe not the best… but it’s right up there.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” I smiled back. “I’m just going to get back in the line of cars. Hopefully I’ll hear back before we get to the front.”

  The mechanic nodded as he went for my radio, changing the station until he found something acceptable. Wow, he was certainly making himself comfortable. More surprising was that he wasn’t making me uncomfortable.

  “I just realized that I don’t know your name,” I said.

  “So much for being cautious. I’m Finn.”

  Finn? Huh. Not what I was expecting, but I liked it. Somehow it suited him perfectly. “I’m Emma.”

  “Nice to meet ya, Emma.” Finn’s eyes flickered over me in curiosity before the air conditioning stole his concentration once more and he focused on finding the exact angle of the vent that produced the most intense blast of air. Once his baseball cap was nearly dislodged from his head from the sheer force of the wind, Finn sat back and resumed staring at me.

  After a moment of silence,
he raised his hand. “I have a question.”

  “Yes, Finn?” I pointed at him.

  “If you can’t get me into the festival, can I just sit in your air-conditioned car all weekend?”

  “We’ll see.”

  He nodded, smiling. “Okay, I’ve got one more question. Are you an actress?”

  “No,” I said, laughing.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I think I would know.”

  “Okay. A model, then?”

  I was really starting to like this guy. “You think I look like a model?”

  Finn’s eyes bugged out, much as mine had during his striptease, and settled on my braless profile. The dress Casey had picked clung to my curves but left no room for support, so I’d been forced to free-boob it. Basically I was rocking some serious side cleavage, and it hadn’t escaped his attention.

  “Um…” he gulped.

  That was it. His response was nothing more than a grunt, but I was intensely flattered nonetheless.

  My phone buzzed. “Tell me if the car in front gets too close. I have to check my messages.”

  Finn sat up, taking his job seriously so I could read the text.

  I can get your boytoy a wristband. I just need his name.

  You’re going to tease me all weekend about this, aren’t you?

  Most likely. Name?

  Finn? Well, crap. I had no idea.

  “What’s your last name?”

  “Perry.”

  I typed in his full name and sent it off. Finn followed my every move.

  “Keep watching,” I demanded to my travel companion.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. We’ve only moved a car length. Are you seriously getting me a ticket?”

  Another text came in from Jake. I put my hand up to stop the conversation.

  You don’t have any more imaginary boyfriends that need tickets, do you? Because management might start getting pissed if I keep asking.

  Nope. Just this one.

  So where did you meet this Finn Perry?

  He’s just some guy I picked up on the road.

  Yeah, right hahaha, Jake texted back.

  I grinned. If he only knew!

  I’ll text you the address where you can pick it up.

  I can’t get it at will call?

  Not the upgraded wristbands. Have to go offsite to pick those up.

  OK no problem. And Jake, can you keep this quiet? You know how Mom gets.

  Oh I know how mom gets. It’s our secret.

  You’re my favorite brother.

  No I’m not. Keith is.

  You’re my favorite this weekend.

  I’ll take it.

  After checking the road, I focused my attention back on Finn. “This is your lucky day after all,” I said, grinning. It felt good to do something nice for him. After the day he’d had, he deserved it.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  I shook my head, biting my lower lip in excitement for him.

  “No, you didn’t.” He smiled back as if he thought I was joking.

  “I told you I had connections.”

  “I know, but…” His mouth hanging open, Finn appeared genuinely gobsmacked. “You’re not messing with me, right?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I’ve had a pretty crappy day today, so it’s not too far fetched for me to believe that this is all an elaborate hoax.”

  “It hasn’t been all bad. You’re practically dating my air conditioner now.”

  “That’s true. It hasn’t been all bad,” he said with a charming little smile. “I got to meet a gorgeous model-actress.”

  I laughed. “No and no.”

  “So what do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. It was free.”

  “I don’t want you paying for me. I can get you the money.”

  “I didn’t pay anything for it. It was an extra ticket.”

  “An extra ticket?” Finn shook his head. “There aren’t any extra tickets.”

  “There are if you know who to ask.”

  His eyes locked on mine, and I felt that incredible attachment towards him once again. What the hell was it about him? “Well, are you sure you want to give it to me? You don’t even know me.”

  “Oh, my god, Finn! Would you prefer I give the ticket to some other smelly homeless guy?”

  “No!” he laughed.

  “Do you want it or not?”

  “Hell, yeah, I want it!”

  7

  Emma, 2004: A Mother’s Destruction

  Aunt Mel arrived from Michigan in the middle of the chaos. It had been four days since Jake’s disappearance, and my parents were coming apart at the seams. The very glue that had held us together was now dripping down the cracks of our shattered family. When her older sister arrived, my mother collapsed into her arms. The Carver sisters were strong women, but even the sturdiest of stock could not bear the weight of a missing child. Mel kept Mom focused on what was important – Jake – and she encouraged my mother to throw herself into the search for her son while she took over the parenting duties that were currently being shunned.

  And thank god for Mel. With four children of her own, my aunt was a pro, and she got right down to work parenting us in the style we’d been raised. Efficient, caring, and tough…my siblings and I needed her strength and guidance. With her there, anything seemed possible. Her optimism kept our fragile family from breaking down as we waited for one of our own to return home. No matter the external chatter that filled our home with negativity, Aunt Mel was steadfast in her belief that we would be whole again. She told us tales of happily ever afters, and I hung on her every word.

  As the days wore on with no new leads and with the prospect of finding Jake alive dwindling, a new normal began to take form. Aunt Mel stayed with us for two weeks before she too seemed to lose faith. Before she left to go home to her intact family, she’d taken the step of contacting our school, securing Keith, Kyle, and me piles of homework and missed assignments. None of us had been back since Jake’s kidnapping. Neither Mom nor Dad had said a word about school, so we just didn’t go. When the envelopes arrived, Keith and Kyle ignored theirs, but I went to work immediately, welcoming the distraction.

  With my aunt gone, my parents out of commission, and Keith continuously disappearing, there was effectively no adult in the house who could be counted on. The day-to-day necessities that kept us all collectively moving forward fell on me. I tried to focus my mother on the task at hand, but she was an emotional wreck, solid and focused one minute and then bawling or disengaged the next. Strangely enough, she seemed to develop an aversion to the children she still had left to hold. When Grace or Quinn tried to curl in her arms for comfort, she pushed them away. If Kyle was crying on the living room floor, she’d step over him. And if Keith or I asked her anything, her immediate response was to berate us.

  Dad was just gone, searching… always searching. And when he did come home, he stumbled around like a zombie, as if the life had been sucked clean out of him. Unlike my mother, whom I was growing to despise, my father’s behavior was so pitiful that I felt nothing but sympathy for his broken soul.

  The fact that I held my mother to a higher standard was not lost on me. She was our family’s foundation, and for that reason, didn’t have the right to crumble. But crumble she most surely did. My normally well-kept mother morphed into a caricature of her former self. She stopped eating. She stopped sleeping. She stopped living. Her loss consumed her. It was like watching a slow and painful demise. I knew in my heart that if Jake’s death were confirmed, my mother would not survive.

  I was too young to know a love like that, one so all-consuming and heartbreakingly fragile. It terrified me. How could anyone willingly set himself or herself up for such unbearable despair? Why bring beautiful, precious life into the world only for it to be stripped away so cruelly? No, my mother’s pain would never be mine. I would never bear a child of my own. I would never love as my mother loved, nor would I e
ver lose as she was so spectacularly losing.

  “Emma?”

  I looked up from my biology book to stare into the angelic face of little Quinn. The blond hair that flipped up around the ears, the big gray-green eyes, and the tanned skin reminded me so much of Jake at that age that I blinked him in for a moment, wishing he really were Jake and that I was back in a past where my brother was still happy and safe… and home.

  “Emma?” he repeated.

  I focused on Quinn, trying to keep the disappointment and sadness at bay. My baby brother did not fully understand what was happening, and I preferred to keep him in the dark. No sense in him being as terrified and miserable as the rest of us.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Go ask Mom or Dad for food. I’m doing my homework.”

  “I can’t find Daddy, and Mommy is lying in bed. She won’t answer.”

  “She won’t answer?” I asked, immediately standing at attention. Was this it? Had she finally succumbed? Fear cycled through me as I tore down the hallway in a panic. Quinn followed behind me, running to keep up with my brisk pace. I flung open her door and rushed to her side. My mother was sprawled out on the bed, her hair splayed in every direction and still in the same rumpled clothes she’d been wearing for days. A bottle of sleeping pills lay by her side.

  “Mom?” I touched my hand to her face, and a shudder of relief rocked me. At least she was warm and alive. I poked her. “Mom?”

  “What?” she answered, slurring her words. All sympathy I’d had moments before disappeared completely as I took in her inebriated state.

  “Wake up!” I demanded, shaking her limp body. “Quinn and Grace need to be fed and bathed, and Kyle hasn’t come out of his room in days. Is anyone checking on him?”