Bending the Rules

by Margaret Watson

  She’d shoved her hair away from her face, tucked the windblown curls behind her ears. He wanted his hands in her hair, her curls wrapped around his fingers.

  He needed to concentrate on Harley. But lately, Emma was all he could think about.

  “So which was your favorite, Nathan?” Harley asked.

  “Huh?” His eyes lingered on Emma. “Favorite what?”

  Harley snorted. “Duh! Your favorite dish! They were Marco’s specials. I liked the rigatoni primavera the best. But the ravioli with the cheese sauce and the linguini with clams were good, too.”

  Thank you for telling me what I just ate, Harley. “Yeah. Me, too. The rigatoni.”

  Harley grinned. “Wait till I see Marco again. He said you wouldn’t like that one. He said you’re not big on vegetables.”

  Marco was right. He didn’t particularly like vegetables in his pasta. “I like them just fine when they’re fixed right. And Marco did a good job with that dish.”

  “Yeah,” Harley said with relish, pumping her fist. “I’m gonna make him eat his words.”

  Nathan watched Emma smile as she looked at Harley. There was a touch of sadness in her eyes. A hint of loss.

  He wondered why. This was what she’d wanted—Harley in his life. In his family’s life. Comfortable with the Devereux clan.

  Emma set her fork on her plate, which still held portions of all three dishes. He touched her hand. “You didn’t like the food?”

  She shook her head. Smiled. But that shadow was still there. “They were great, but I’m not very hungry,” she murmured before turning to Harley. Her eyes softened. “You bring dessert home, too?”

  “Cannoli,” the girl said with a hum of anticipation. “Should I get them?”

  “I’ll save mine for later,” Emma said. “But you and Nathan go ahead.” She tipped the bottle of wine over her glass, poured another mouthful. She glanced at Nathan’s empty beer bottle. “And grab another beer for Nathan,” she added.

  “No, thanks,” he said. “I’m good.” He’d already had two. He needed to be a good example for Harley. Moderation and all that stuff. “I’ll pass on the cannoli, too, Harley.” He smiled when her eyes lit up. “You’ll have to sacrifice yourself. Eat mine for me.”

  “I’ll save it for tomorrow,” she said happily. She looked from him to Emma. “Since you guys don’t want dessert, is it okay if I take mine into my room? I want to call Lissy and tell her about snowboarding today.”

  “Sure.” Emma pushed away from the table. “Help me with the dishes first.”

  She glanced at Nathan, and her eyes darkened as if they’d been thinking about the same things during dinner. “Why don’t you rest your leg again? I’ll make coffee and bring some in to you.”

  “Nah,” he said. “I’ll stay here. This is where the fun is.” He meant it, too, he realized with a jolt of surprise. Emma was telling him it was okay to park himself on her couch and turn on her television to check on the football game. But he’d rather be here in the kitchen, watching Emma. Listening to her and Harley talk.

  He wanted to hear what his daughter said next. Marco was right. She was clever. A smart-mouth. And he did like that about her.

  * * *

  TEN MINUTES LATER, Emma wrung out the dishrag and watched Harley hang the towel next to the sink. She set a cannoli gently on a plate and put the other two back in the refrigerator. As she poured a glass of milk, she asked, “You sure it’s okay if I go talk to Lissy? You won’t be, like, offended if I don’t hang out with you?”

  A wave of love moved through Emma, so fierce it almost made her stagger. “We’re devastated, but we’ll muddle through somehow,” Emma said, smiling. Telling Harley without words that she loved her.

  “Dork,” Harley said with a grin as she slipped into her bedroom and closed the door.

  Emma watched Harley disappear. It had been hard to eat, watching Harley and Nathan so easy with one another. So natural.

  This was what she wanted, she assured herself. The point of everything she’d done with Nathan.

  She glanced at him, found his gaze on her.

  Well, maybe not everything.

  Breaking the connection with him, she swiped the dishrag across the table, rinsed it and hung it to dry. She blotted her hands on the towel more carefully than usual. This evening wasn’t about her and Nathan. It was about how to keep Harley safe.

  Not a drop of water remained on her hands by the time she turned to Nathan. “Sure you don’t want another beer?”

  “I’m good.” He glanced at the coffeemaker on the counter. “I wouldn’t say no to coffee, though.”

  “Great. I’ll make some.” Coffee was good. She’d had less than two glasses of wine with dinner, but she needed a clear head for this. For this discussion of Harley’s safety.

  When it was ready, they headed for the living room again. She carried both cups of coffee, and she waited while Nathan sat down. In the middle of the couch.

  He raised his leg with a groan, and the cups clattered as Emma set the coffee on the table. Her hands gripped his leg carefully as she helped him settle his foot on the pillows.

  When she’d done this before dinner, her hand had accidentally slipped beneath the denim of his jeans. His skin had been warm. Crisp hair had tickled her palm, and she’d felt him tense.

  She’d taken her hand away a little more slowly than she should have.

  Now, after Nathan was settled on the couch, coffee mug in his hand, she hesitated for a moment, not sure where to sit. Next to him? In the easy chair?

  Nathan finally solved the problem by tapping the cushion beside him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  There had been that moment before dinner, when she’d completely forgotten about Harley in the other room. When she’d leaned closer. Felt her heart slamming against her ribs.

  And that moment earlier this afternoon at Mama’s, when they’d communicated with just their eyes.

  She longed to sit plastered against him, her thigh pressed up against his, her hip touching his hip. But if they were that close, she wouldn’t focus on what they needed to talk about. Wouldn’t be able to think of anything but Nathan.

  And Harley was only a closed door away.

  So she sat down, leaving space between them. Nathan studied the gap. “I don’t bite,” he murmured.

  “Not sure about that.”

  Her hand rested on the cushion next to her, and Nathan picked it up. Held her gaze as he rubbed the back of her hand, drew circles on her palm with his index finger. “Maybe you’d like me to bite.” His voice was a rough sweep of darkness, low and intimate.

  There were a lot of things she’d like Nathan to do. A lot of things she’d like to do to him. She tugged her hand away, missing his touch as soon as he let go. Curled her fingers into her palm to hold the memory of his caress.

  “We need to talk about Harley,” she said, her voice more breathless than she liked.

  He raised his eyebrows. “And we can’t do that while I hold your hand?”

  God, no. “You’ll make me lose my train of thought. And I need to focus on Harley and keeping her safe.”

  “Okay.” One side of his mouth curled up. “Good to know. We’ll focus on Harley first.”

  First? She cleared her throat, closed her eyes, reached for the calm that had never failed her. The one she’d developed as a child when confronted with her thoughtless drama queen mother. The one she used now when
dealing with difficult clients.

  Nathan shifted on the couch, sliding his elevated leg as he turned to face her. “Can’t reach you from here. So you’re safe.”

  For now. “Yes. No. I don’t...” She closed her eyes briefly, cleared her throat. Calm. “About Harley.”

  The teasing smile disappeared from his face. “Yes.”

  She leaned toward him. “Why would these people you’re pursuing want to hurt a thirteen-year-old kid? What would they gain from that?”

  “I don’t think it’s that they want to hurt her,” he said slowly. “I think they want me to understand that they could. That if I don’t drop this and back off, she’s vulnerable.”

  “So why don’t you drop it? You have no proof that anything illegal happened. Just a hunch.”

  “No, I have no proof.” His gaze held hers, and she saw shame in his expression. “Maybe everything was legit. Maybe taxes were paid. But I accepted the money without being sure it was legal. I got the money in a cashier’s check. Made my payments in cash. Chuck came to my restaurant two or three times a week, watching me. Keeping track of how much business we did. And he had a gun.”

  Nathan clenched his hands into fists. “That restaurant is my parents’ legacy. All that we have left of them. Neither my father nor my mother would have accepted that money. They would have found a bank who’d lend it to them, no matter how long they had to look. They wouldn’t have agreed to a shady deal just because they wanted to get it done. Because they wanted to finish the remodeling and...and run away.

  “But I did. So I have to make it right. I have to find the person who gave the alderman that money. If he got it legally and paid taxes on the interest, great. But I don’t think he did. So it’s up to me to take care of the situation.”

  “I see.” And she did. Nathan felt as if he’d tarnished his family legacy by choosing to participate in a shady business deal. So it was his responsibility to make it right.

  She leaned toward him. “No one would think less of you if you let it go,” she said quietly. “You don’t know for sure that it was illegal.”

  “I would think less of myself.” He reached for her hand, then stopped. “I’m sorry you and Harley are entangled in this. I really am. Neither of you asked for this, or deserve it.”

  “Then I guess we have to figure out how to deal with it,” Emma said. “How to keep Harley safe. And how to catch this guy.”

  Nathan straightened. Swung his leg off the coffee table. “You don’t have anything to do with catching this guy,” he said sharply. “That’s my job. And Patrick’s. Your job is watching out for Harley.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Get better locks on your door,” he said immediately. His gaze skimmed over the windows, as if he was assessing their security. “Put in an alarm system, maybe.”

  “Come on, Nathan. We live on the second floor. No one’s coming in through the windows.” But she glanced out into the darkness uneasily. His words were creeping her out.

  “No. Probably not.”

  Probably? “What? You think there’s some kind of supervillain after you? Someone who can jump two stories and climb in my window?”

  “No.” He rubbed his chin, and in the silence she heard the faint rasp of his whiskers against his fingers. “I don’t want to freak you out. But that lock on the downstairs door? That wouldn’t keep out a determined eight-year-old. You’ve got a dead bolt up here, and that’s good. But the door is kind of thin.”

  “You know, you are freaking me out.” She jumped up from the couch and stared down at the street, her arms wrapped around her waist. It looked like any other winter night out there. Sidewalks deserted. Lights on and shades drawn in the other apartment buildings. Dirty snow piled at the curb, littered with the skeletons of old kitchen chairs, scuffed plastic milk crates, a broken stroller. The markers of “dibs,” waiting patiently for the next snowfall, when they’d be used to guard the parking spaces their owners shoveled out.

  Was Nathan’s heart filled with the debris of his past? The loss of his parents, the choices he’d been forced to make, the mistakes he’d made in his hurry to leave that past behind?

  Was he so focused on his past and his future that he couldn’t see the present?

  She heard the whisper of fabric as Nathan slid off the couch, and a few moments later, his hands settled on her shoulders. “Sorry,” he said softly. His breath fluttered against her ear, making her shiver. “You and Harley have gotten caught up in this mess, and it’s my fault. I hate that my stupid, selfish decision has to affect so many other people.” His hands tightened on her shoulders, then they were gone.

  “You know how we paid off the alderman in the end?” he said, his voice tight. “Cal had to lend us the money. My sister’s fiancé. God!” She could feel the tension thrumming through his body.

  “I know Cal.” She’d met him at FreeZone. “I’m sure he was thrilled he could help.”

  “Yeah. Thrilled. Now you and Harley are involved. And I can’t stop thinking about that crappy lock downstairs and the flimsy door into your apartment.”

  She turned to face him, stared up into his stormy eyes. “What do you want to do? What would make this easier for you?”

  He closed his eyes. “The point isn’t to make this easier for me. It’s to make it easier for you and Harley. Safer.”

  She was already terrified for Harley’s safety. Nothing would take that terror away besides finding out who was responsible for the loan. But she wasn’t going to tell Nathan that. He already felt guilty enough. “Do you have any suggestions?” she asked carefully.

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “This is President’s Day weekend. Harley’s off school on Monday, right?”

  “Monday and Tuesday.” FreeZone would be open both days. Emma knew Harley would be happy to spend the days with her friends while Emma worked. But after Chuck the goon followed them to the ski hill, Emma didn’t want Harley out of her sight.

  “Then, would you consider...” He cleared his throat. “What do you think about staying with me for the rest of the weekend? Monday and Tuesday, too.” He studied her carefully. “You probably have to work on Monday and Tuesday, right?”

  “I’m supposed to.”

  “So if you both stayed with me, you wouldn’t have to worry about what to do with Harley. And I wouldn’t have to worry about the two of you alone in this apartment.”

  Maybe Nathan was more focused on the present than she thought. His solution made sense, in an uncomfortable, awkward kind of way. But her staying in the same house as Nathan? Even with Harley there, as well? “I’m not sure how that would work, Nathan,” she said slowly.

  “Easy. You and Harley pack some stuff and come home with me. There are three extra bedrooms in the house. Plenty of room.”

  “Why is your place safer? The bad guys know where you live.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve got a top-of-the-line security system—no one’s getting in. The police do regular drive-bys. And I’ll feel better if you’re with me.” He tucked a curl behind her ear, his finger sliding over her cheek, lingering at her jaw.

  She lifted her gaze to him. “Do you really think that would be smart?” she whispered. “Having me stay at your house?”

  “What are you afraid of?” His fingers lifted from her jaw, burrowed into her hair. She shivered at his touch, found herself swaying toward him. Aching for his heat, the muscled plane of his chest against hers, the solid strengt
h of his thighs bracing hers.

  “This,” she murmured. “This is what I’m afraid of.”

  He cradled her face between his palms. “Nothing to be scared of,” he murmured, leaning closer. “We’ve already gotten the first kiss out of the way.” His breath puffed against her face, heating her skin.

  “A kiss in a school stairwell is a lot different than living in the same house,” she muttered.

  “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he promised, brushing his lips over hers. “Nothing but longing glances.” She felt him smile against her mouth. “Maybe a little footsie under the kitchen table at breakfast. Or some necking on the couch after Harley’s in bed.” He nipped at her lower lip. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Judging by the way her heart raced and her stomach fluttered at his words, there was a lot to worry about. This wasn’t supposed to be about her and Nathan. It was about Nathan and Harley. And keeping Harley safe.

  She put her hands on his chest, felt the tension vibrating through him. She should push him away.

  Her fingers curled in his shirt, holding on to him. Pulling him closer. “How do you define necking?” she asked, her mouth hovering over his.

  “Mmm.” He nibbled at the corner of her mouth, touched the spot with his tongue. “Lots of this. I want to memorize how you taste. Everywhere. I want to know where you’re ticklish. What your skin feels like. The sounds you make when you...” He pressed his mouth to hers, and her eyes fluttered closed.

  He shifted, and his body was glued to hers, thighs to chest. Somehow, her arms ended up around his neck, clutching him closer. And her mouth had opened beneath his. She touched his teeth with her tongue and smiled at his sharp intake of breath.

  “You like what you’re doing to me,” he said as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth. Tasted it. Lingered to stroke his tongue over the slick surface. “So do I.” His voice made her legs weak. His arms tightened around her, his mouth suddenly hot and desperate. “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I saw you at FreeZone.”