Luckily, he complied.
His lips brushed hers in a tender, sweet kiss, which progressed quickly into a heated, searing bond. His fingers trailed down her neck, lightly traced the neckline of her dress, and then crept down her sides to gently cup her breasts. Hunger consumed her with each nibble, each caress. Somewhere within the depths of Jemma's mind, the tiny warning voice grew fainter by the second. There was no turning back.
She didn't care.
Her body was in control now, her mind numbed with passion.
Tony's phone vibrated against her abdomen, and her head fell back in surprise. She raised an eyebrow in question.
"Oh, hell no," he murmured. His lips quickly claimed hers again.
Jemma's hands skimmed over the taut muscles of his chest, up his neck, and tangled in his silky hair. With her body pressed tightly against his, his hands swept around, pulling her even closer. The evidence of his arousal pushed against her abdomen, blocking out everything but her primal need.
Tony's phone vibrated again and again. On the fourth time, he unwound himself from her and pulled away, regret etching his features. He reached down and unhooked the phone from his belt, glancing at the number.
He inhaled a huge breath and let it out at once. "All of these have been from Kate. She never calls unless it is an emergency." He peered deeply into Jemma's eyes, silently asking permission.
"It's okay."
He hit redial. "Hello?" Tony walked away from her, threading the fingers of his free hand through his hair.
Jemma smoothed her dress back into place and did her best to regain some composure. All she could do was stare into the living room and follow the chimney up to his bedroom window. Anticipation brewed in her belly.
And a bit farther south.
"He did what?" Tony bellowed, spooking away the thoughts. "You've got to be kidding me." He dropped the phone away, mumbling a string of expletives, and then returned it to his ear. "I'll be right over." He swiped his phone off and shoved it back into the case on his belt.
Jemma walked over to him, lightly touching his arm to get his attention. "Is she okay?"
He spun toward her. "That bastard boyfriend of hers was caught at a seedy bar on Commercial Street with the woman he'd been cheating with." His jaw was set, pupils dilated, and fists clenched—all good signs that Dalton might want to consider never crossing Tony's path in the near future.
Or ever.
Her stomach clenched, but she knew she had to come clean about Dalton. He'd undoubtedly be furious, but he had to know. "Tony, I have to tell you something."
"Can you tell me in the car? Kate thinks she's having contractions and can't get a hold of anyone else. She won't go to the hospital, so I have to go talk sense into her." Sadness, anger, concern, and regret marred his handsome face.
Contractions? So not a good time to add to the mix.
Jemma darted to her purse, pulling out her phone. "I can call a cab."
"I'll drop you at your car." His expression softened, and he stopped in front of her, placing a finger under her chin. He tilted her head back, forcing her to look at him. "I'm so very sorry for bailing on you like this."
"I understand completely. Please don't apologize for a family emergency." Jemma slipped her feet back into her shoes, before following him through the house and into the garage.
Tony drove like a madman back to the church. Jemma briefly contemplated the truth again but decided not to add a layer to the messed up Dalton cluster while Tony was pissed and Kate was already hurt.
They pulled into the empty church lot next to her car. Tony shoved his car into park and started to open his door.
Jemma gently placed a hand on his arm. "Don't. You need to hurry."
"I have to get your things out of the trunk." Without giving her an option, he exited the car and unloaded her equipment.
She walked around the vehicle and stood next to him.
He brushed a loose curl behind her ear. "Thank you for understanding."
She popped up on tippy-toe and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "It's okay. Go."
"I'll call you when I know something."
She nodded. "Go."
With that, he rushed around the side of his car, slid into the driver's seat, slammed his door, and peeled out of the parking lot.
Jemma watched him speed away and out of sight before putting her things in her car. Fear gripped her stomach and squeezed her heart. She pondered the myriad of reasons for its existence. Was it her past with Dalton? Worry for Kate? Regret for what might have been if they hadn't been interrupted?
Yes and no.
The knot was there because she was falling for him. Somewhere in the midst of the crazy mess, the long phone calls, and the wonderful time they'd spent together, Jemma slipped off the man-hater's bluff and fell for Tony. If she'd been honest with him all along, he may not have even given her a chance to get to her current euphoria, terrifying as it was. And, telling him about her past with Dalton after all that'd taken place might be the end of it.
A single tear slid down her cheek.
His possible Mafia ties now seemed completely irrelevant and unimportant. What truly mattered was the truth. Well, that, and making him understand why she hadn't said anything to begin with.
CHAPTER TEN
Jemma looked at her cell phone again and slid it back onto the counter. She'd checked for missed calls so many times in the past two days, it almost became a habit.
A very frustrating, annoying habit.
No news was supposed to be good news, but she had her doubts in this case. She paced the small expanse of her apartment, worrying that Dalton had beaten her to the truth. Or, worse yet, embellished upon it, which he obviously liked to do. She stared back at her phone, willing it to ring.
While pacing some more, his ringtone finally broke the silence.
She darted to the kitchen, looking down in disbelief for a few seconds, pondering some latent psychic ability and why she'd never tried it before. Shaking her head at her own bizarre thoughts, she answered, "Hello?"
"Hey." Exhaustion strangled his single word.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just tired. I've only managed about five hours of sleep the past few days. The good news is they're pretty sure Kate and the baby will be okay. The bad news is Dalton may not survive." His anger transferred over the phone.
"You say that like it's a bad thing." The words popped out before she could stop them. Her eyes widened in shock, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, waiting for his response.
A tired, forced laugh broke her panic. "I like you even more, knowing you don't like him. Is that wrong?"
Going limp with relief, she slumped onto the couch. "Nope, not at all. Is the wedding off, then?"
"You'd think, but no. She still wants to go through with it. He's been at her side since he found out she was in the hospital. If he hadn't showed? Well, I've got some friends on stand-by. He's lucky she's going to be okay."
Jemma grimaced at the way he said "friends." She guessed they'd be called in to do more than rough Dalton up, not that he didn't deserve whatever he got.
"Are you still there?"
"Yeah, sorry."
"You said you wanted to tell me something the other night, and I dropped you off without ever giving you a chance. I'm so very sorry. Is it something we can discuss over the phone?" The concern in Tony's voice touched her.
She bit back the confession perched at the ready and her bottom lip. "It'll keep until things calm down."
"Well, I have a backlog of work to catch up on, so I probably won't get to see you until the wedding. We can talk about it at the reception."
Crap. Jemma forced a smile to her face in hopes of hiding the disappointment in her voice. "I can't wait to see you in a tuxedo. I bet you clean up nice." She forced one of her giggles to sell it.
He offered a half-hearted chuckle in response, his fatigue growing more obvious.
"Maybe we can actually fi
nish a dance, since we'll be in public."
His laugh was genuine this time. "Or we'll make a spectacle of ourselves. Either way is fine with me."
She wanted to see him so badly. Well, and other things. She fought against asking him to stop by. "You get some sleep. I'll see you on Saturday, then."
"Thank you for understanding. You're truly one in a million. I can't wait to hold you in my arms again. Good night."
"Mmm, ditto. G'night."
Guilt slammed into her head-on as she set her phone down. She had to tell him, but her fear of his reaction was nearly paralyzing. She knew telling him was inevitable, but a little part of her kept the delusion alive that maybe it would all just go away. She also knew Dalton would eventually see a chance to bring it up if he saw her with Tony, especially if things fell apart with Kate. The delusion whimpered in defeat.
* * *
Thursday, the first of the month, meant Jemma had to put a full day in at the bank. It was a great diversion, but she was pretty sure she'd waited on everyone in town. By the end of the day, exhaustion hung on her like a cheap dress. She slid into the driver's seat of her car, her head sagging back against the seat. She needed food but had absolutely no desire to cook or eat alone. The turmoil she'd ignored all day crammed back into her head and gut.
She slid her phone from her purse and called her mom.
"Hi, honey. How was work?"
Jemma rolled her eyes. "Don't ask."
"That good, huh?"
She groaned her answer.
"Well, Dad is grilling burgers as we speak. You know he always makes enough to feed the neighborhood. Come by."
Bingo. "Are you sure it's okay?"
"Do you want me to keep pretending this isn't why you called, or do you want to come eat?"
"Be there in ten."
Given the green light, she headed in their direction. She pulled up outside the house, not at all surprised to see her brother's truck.
As she walked through the front door, Mikey called from the kitchen, "Washing your sheets again tonight, Sis?"
"Hey, now there's a habit of mine you should seriously consider picking up. When was the last time you washed yours? Christmas?" She rounded the corner to the kitchen just in time to see Mikey sitting at the counter, munching on a bag of chips, his mouth flapping like a Muppet as he mocked her. "That's mature."
"Nothin' but love, Jem."
"Please don't call me that. You know I hate that nickname." Jemma shuddered, her whole being disturbed. She could actually hear Dalton saying it in her head.
"Sorry, I forgot he used to call you that." Mikey pronounced "he" as though he wanted to spit it out.
Jemma spied her mom on the back deck and headed out to see her. "Can I talk to you?"
She turned, hands covered in raw hamburger meat, beaming at her daughter. "Sure, sweetheart." She grabbed another handful and slapped it into a patty.
"Somewhere else, maybe?" Jemma turned a side-eyed glare toward her brother. He just waggled his brow in response.
"Oh, in private?" Her mom nodded, answering her own question.
"Yes, please."Jemma opened the door for her.
She busied herself at the sink, washing her hands thoroughly. "What is it, honey?"
Jemma looked back and forth between Mikey and the back of her mother's head.
Mikey perked up. "Yeah, what is it, honey?"
Her mom spun around. "I didn't know you were here, Son."
Jemma sniffed the air with exaggeration. "There's food, Mom. It wasn't exactly a stretch."
"Look who's talking," Mikey retorted.
Her mother pivoted toward Jemma. "How about the front porch?"
Mikey stood as though he was going to follow, but Jemma shut him down with an emphatic shake of her head.
He waved a hand in their direction and muttered, "Whatever, probably just chick stuff."
Mother and daughter walked through the house and out on the huge farmhouse style porch. Taking up the entire front of the house, it was dotted with potted plants and benches. But Jemma's favorite spot had always been the swing. It was old and had seen better days, but there were so many memories in those slats of wood. They sat down next to each other, like they'd done countless times since before. This was always their special place to talk, or just sit together and enjoy the quiet. Jemma hooked her arm around her mother's and leaned her head on her shoulder.
She kissed Jemma's forehead. "Oh, this is serious. Does it have anything to do with the man you've been seeing?"
Jemma snorted. "Yeah, pretty much everything."
"Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen."
The rhythmic swaying of the porch swing calmed Jemma's nerves, relaxing her more with every creak and groan of the rusty chain. Having her mom next to her helped more than anything. The bond between them had always been strong while she was growing up. When she moved out, they seamlessly moved into friendship mode, with sprinkles of mothering here and there. Jemma could tell her mom anything; although there were still a few things she didn't want to tell her.
"Tony doesn't know I dated Dalton," Jemma blurted.
Patting her hand, her mom soothed, "I don't think he'll really care about that. It's not like you were dating them both at the same time."
"No, I wasn't." Jemma paused, searching for the words and courage to continue. "But I was dating Dalton at the same time Tony's cousin was dating him. I should have been honest with him from the beginning."
Her mother fell silent. Birds sang, and the gentle creak of the metal chains against the hooks brought more childhood memories to mind.
Finally, her mother dropped her feet, bringing the swing to a stop, and turned to face her daughter. "Jemma, it's very unlike you to cheat on someone like that. You know how hurt you were when you found out about Stacy." The disappointment in her words and splayed over her face was like a sucker punch to the gut.
Fighting back tears, Jemma pled, "I swear I didn't know about Kate at all when Dalton and I were together. She said she was away at school most of the time they were dating. If I'd known about her, I would have kicked his butt to the curb long before I did. You know I'm not like that."
Understanding softened her mother's features. "I should have known. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. I guess it's just so unlike you to keep something like this a secret from me."
"Well, I found out while pitching my photography to Dalton's wife-to-be. I didn't really feel it appropriate to blurt out that I'd been sleeping with him, too. It's bad for business and all."
"You make a valid point. And, you'd already spent the money." Just a smidgeon of condemnation in her words. She leaned back in the swing, her feet resuming the swaying motion.
Jemma ignored the backhanded comment. "There's also the part about how I really wanted to see Tony naked. That would have been a major mood breaker, and I doubt he would have called to ask me out."
They broke into giggles.
Her father's voice bellowed from the back yard, "Burgers are done!"
She patted her daughter's leg. "Well, you have to tell him. It's the right thing to do. I know he'll eventually find out anyway; Dalton will make sure of it. It's best that it comes from you. If you and Tony are meant to be, he'll understand, and you can move on from there. If not, well, someone is waiting out there to make you the center of his universe."
"I want to be the center of Tony's universe." A large sigh of disappointment escaped Jemma as she dropped her head back onto her mother's shoulder.
They leaned back together, rocking their feet back and forth, the rhythm again soothing and calming, but it was short-lived.
Her dad yelled louder, "Are you women deaf?"
Jemma rolled her eyes. "Okay, Dad means business now. We'd better go." Before she stood, she grabbed her mother's hand. "Oh, while I'm thinking about it, does Dad know a guy from New York named Anthony Giovanni whose nickname is Little Ant'ny?"
"I've heard stories about him. Why do you ask?"
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Jemma stood up, pulled her mother to a standing position beside her, and released another sigh. "Oh, no reason, really."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Saturday, June third, her ex-boyfriend's wedding day. The day Jemma had been dreading no longer loomed on the horizon. It was D-Day.
She stood in front of her bathroom mirror and stared past her reflection of bed-head and yesterday's makeup. Thoughts of how the day would play out danced through her mind, scenario after scenario, each one slightly different from the last, but all ending in disaster. She couldn't even pretend there'd be a happy ending. Dalton's ego or her confession ruined them all. Jemma placed her forehead on the cool glass and released a heavy breath, fogging the mirror. She leaned back and traced Tony's name in the condensation. Feelings of love in its infancy fluttered in her chest, and she fought the teenage urge to put a plus sign and her name under it.
"Why did I cash the freaking check?"
She took her reverie into the shower, hoping the warm water would rinse the butterflies from her stomach and supply her with a solution to all of her Dalton-related problems.
No such luck.
Even during the whirr of the hair dryer, when she normally did her best thinking, she came up with nothing new. The best she could think up was to tell him the plain and simple truth. Tony, being an educated, thoughtful, well-traveled man, would not jump to the same conclusion her mother had.
Slinging the hair dryer into a drawer, she muttered to herself, "Please, please, please, don't go there."
Donning a cream, shin-length satin dress made her think of her own wedding. One she'd dreamed of since she had dressed her very first doll in white and trotted it down the hall to marry Mikey's G.I. Joe. The very same wedding she'd all but given up on six months ago. The dream had flickered back to life when she realized her actual feelings for Tony. She wasn't necessarily putting him in the groom's spot just yet, but at least it was now an option. Falling in love didn't scare her like it had those past few celibate months. It actually felt right and natural for the first time in her life.
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