by Elle James
“He started to, but I did like Creed said and slammed the throttle forward as hard as I could and got the hell out of there. I was halfway back to the marina before I looked back.”
“Creed told you to leave?” Emma glanced at Creed.
The man had shed his BCD and had his wet suit zipped halfway down, exposing his broad, smooth chest.
“We had the shelter of the rocks in case of attack. Dave had nothing.”
“You knew it might happen.” Emma shook her head. “It would have been nice if you’d told me what to expect sooner. I could have been more prepared.”
Dave laid Creed’s tank and BCD on the deck and handed him a towel. “How’d you know?”
“I had a hunch.” He ran the towel over his head and draped it around his shoulders as he shoved the wet suit down his legs and then sat, unzipped his booties and stepped out of all of it.
Like Emma, his skin was shriveled from being wet for so long. Creed nodded toward the coastguard boat. “Are they looking for us?”
“Yup. I notified the police and the coastguard as soon as I got back to the marina yesterday afternoon. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the helicopter fly over. They went up for an hour, but the weather was so bad, they had to call off the search. Then they had some technical malfunction and couldn’t get it up this morning, so they sent out a boat.”
“Nice to know we were missed.” Emma smiled, her lips trembling from cold.
“Oh, and I had Gabe check in on Moby,” Dave added.
“Thanks.” Emma’s heart warmed at Dave’s gesture. The people of Cape Churn looked out for each other and their dogs. “I’m sure he was glad for the company.”
Dave pulled the ladder up in back, stepped over the equipment and settled into the captain’s seat. He fiddled with the radio, then notified the coastguard he’d found the two missing persons alive, had them aboard and would take them back to the marina.
Emma huddled low, out of the wind, her teeth chattering. Without the wet suit, the towel did little to keep her warm.
Creed sat on the bench beside her, blocking some of the wind, and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t fight it, leaning in to him, his warmth helping to keep her from shaking so hard.
Sal and Olaf Olander, the owners of the marina, hurried across the dock, carrying blankets as Dave guided the boat into its slip.
Emma had never before been so glad to see the marina after a dive trip. Granted, she’d never been on a dive trip that extended overnight in the cold.
Creed climbed up onto the dock and held out his hand to her, pulling her into his arms to steady her.
Sal wrapped a thick wool blanket and her skinny arms around her. “Emma, honey, we’re so glad you’re okay. You had us worried sick all night long.”
Emma smiled at the older couple, whose faces were lined deeply by wind and age. She was warmed by the sincerity of their worry and the hugs they insisted on giving her at every opportunity. Having spent so much time at the marina, she’d gotten to know the Olanders. They were like the grandparents Emma had never known.
When Sal had been sick with pneumonia, she’d insisted on having Emma as her nurse at Cape Churn Memorial. Whenever Emma got a break, she’d spend it reading Moby Dick to the older woman, much to Sal’s delight. When she’d checked out of the hospital before the end of the story, Emma had spent her days off parked on a stool in the marina, reading the rest of the book out loud for both Sal and Olie.
Two Cape Churn police cruisers pulled up in the parking lot, lights blazing. Gabe McGregor got out of one and Chief Taggart out of the other, both converging on the dock with the growing crowd around Emma and Creed.
Gabe reached Emma first and wrapped her in a big hug. “Kayla was up all night with Tonya. Neither one could sleep. Kayla was too worried about you. And it’s funny how Tonya seems to sense when her mother is upset.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma said.
“And though Moby was glad for a trip outside, he wouldn’t eat his supper without you there.”
Tears filled Emma’s eyes. “Thanks for checking on him.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay. Kayla would be lost without you.”
“Oh, I doubt that. She has you, Gabe.” Emma hugged the big police officer.
Chief Taggart stepped up on the dock. “You might let the two castaways have a little air and maybe a meal. Nora’s got the cook on standby at the café. Say the word, and she’ll have a feast fit for kings.”
“I want a shower and warm clothes first,” Emma insisted. “But food would be great immediately following.”
Taggart turned to Creed and held out his hand. “Dave tells me you had some trouble out there yesterday.”
Creed clasped the chief’s hand. “Yes, sir.”
“I’d like to hear more about it.”
“And you will. As soon as I can get Emma home and find some clean, dry clothes for myself.”
“Absolutely.” The chief clapped a hand on Creed’s back. “Let me give you two a lift to the hospital where they can check you over.”
Emma smiled. “Thanks, but I think we’re okay.”
Gabe chuckled. “Is that your professional nurse’s opinion?”
Plastering a serious expression on her face, Emma nodded. “You bet.” She ruined it with a grin.
“Then let me give you a lift home,” Chief Taggart offered.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather take my Jeep,” Emma insisted.
“I’ll ride with Emma,” Creed added.
Emma shot a glance at him. “Don’t you want to take your SUV?”
“All I need out of it is my bag.” His gaze captured hers, as if telling her he wasn’t ready to let her out of his sight.
Emma blinked. Surely she was reading too much into his look. It had been a long, cold night; she might be just a little delirious. But she didn’t care. After what they’d gone through the day before and being holed up in a cave in the dark, she wasn’t ready to have him out of her sight, either. Not to mention the matter of the potential terrorist attack. Yeah, she wanted Creed on her side, and close enough to make a difference.
The chief walked Emma and Creed to her Jeep. “Glad you two made it through the night. You had a lot of folks worried.”
“We’re pretty happy to be back on dry land,” Emma admitted.
“Call when you’re headed for the café.” The chief directed his gaze at Creed. “We have a lot to talk about.” The older man walked to his police car and got in, leaving Creed and Emma alone.
* * *
Creed’s gaze followed the chief. He knew it was time to bring the local authorities into the operation. With a deep sigh, he held out his hand for the key to Emma’s Jeep. “Why don’t you let me drive?”
“I can drive,” she pointed out, but laid the keys in his hand anyway.
“I know, and you’re a good driver.” He took the keys.
“There’s a but in there.” Emma rolled her eyes, tired but happy to have her feet on the ground and drying. “I feel it coming.”
His lips twitching, Creed said, “But you look pretty beat.”
“You don’t look so hot yourself, and you’re running on less sleep than I am.” She climbed into the passenger seat and leaned back. “But I’m not complaining too much. It’s kinda nice having a chauffeur.”
“Do I take that as you beginning to trust me?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said with her eyes closed.
Tired, her hair hanging in limp strands around her face and shadows beneath her eyes, she was still the most beautiful woman Creed had ever known. With Emma, it wasn’t just who she was, but who loved her that made her so appealing. She was surrounded by a town full of people who would miss her if she were gone. That spoke a lot about her character
. She was smart, strong and good-hearted, and people loved her for all those qualities.
His pulse quickening, Creed wondered if that was what was happening to him. Was he falling under Emma’s spell? Going into their third day together, had he fallen for the hometown girl? Holy hell, perhaps taking her home was a really bad idea. Hadn’t he dreamed of her house with its picket fence and him living there as though he actually belonged?
When was the last time he felt as if he really belonged in any one place? Besides on his SEAL team, he’d never found a place he could call home. Growing up, his mother had moved from one house to another, unable to pay rent half the time. He’d roamed the streets rather than stay in the house where no one was ever home.
Emma, on the other hand, had a home, in a community that loved her.
“Where are your parents?” Creed asked.
“My parents?” She cracked one eyelid and peered up at him. “Why do you ask?”
“You’ve been missing for a day. I’d expect them to be worried.”
She closed the eye, her lips turning downward. “They would have worried, but they passed away years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s been a while, but I still miss them.” Her smile returned. “They gave me the most important gift of all.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“A happy childhood.”
Her words hit him square in the gut. A happy childhood was the one thing he’d never had. The very thing he didn’t know enough about to give to a child of his own. He was on the road so much, it wouldn’t be fair to any woman or child to burden them with coping alone. Emma was loved; she had family in her community. She deserved a man who would be there for her and their children.
“We’re here.” Creed pulled into her driveway and got out. “I’ll see you at the diner in fifteen minutes.” He retrieved his bag containing his spare clothing and weapons and started to walk back to the marina and his SUV.
Emma dropped down out of the Jeep, her brow furrowed. “Where are you going?”
“I just remembered something I forgot,” he mumbled and continued toward the sidewalk.
Emma hurried after him, the blanket wrapped around her, hindering her steps. “Was it something I said?” She hooked his arm, forcing him to stop. “Tell me.”
“Yes. No. Oh, hell.” He dropped his bag to the concrete and grabbed her arms. “I’m no good for you. Do you understand?” He shook her slightly, his grip fierce, his teeth grinding together. It took every ounce of willpower not to kiss her.
“And that’s an issue because?”
“I’m not staying. As soon as this case is solved, I move on to the next one.”
“Did I ask you to stay?”
“No.”
Her eyes widened. “But you want to stay.” She added quietly, “Don’t you?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a ragged breath. “Emma, you have a perfect little life, in a perfect little town. Don’t screw it up with a man like me.”
“I’m not asking for forever. I was only going to offer you a shower.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’ve been with you since yesterday morning.” She pushed a straggly hair behind her ear. “I guess I wasn’t ready to let go.” She stared down at his hands on her arms. “You don’t have to stay.” A tear trailed down her cheek, and she bit her bottom lip. “I’ll understand.”
When the tear slipped off her chin and landed on his arm, something hard inside him broke, shattering into a million pieces. “Damn it, Emma, this isn’t supposed to happen.”
She looked up at that moment, her tired eyes awash in unshed tears.
He crushed her lips with his, his arms locking around her like steel bands, holding her as if he would never let her go.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on just as hard, lifting up on her toes to deepen the kiss.
Beyond his ability to reason, he cupped the back of her head and eased up, his mouth hovering over hers. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he repeated.
“How was it supposed to be?” she asked.
He bent to grab his duffel bag, then scooped her up in his arms, blanket and all, and marched back toward the house.
Emma reached down to open the gate to the picket fence.
Once through, Creed kicked the gate shut behind them, without missing a step on his way to the front porch.
Moby barked from the other side of the door, scratching at the wood to get to Emma.
Emma leaned down to unlock the door. “You might want to put me down. Moby will be excited.”
Creed reluctantly set her on her feet and pushed the door open.
Moby exploded through the gap and slammed into Emma. She staggered backward, bumping against Creed’s chest.
He steadied her with his hands on her hips, counting the moments until Moby settled down and they could continue inside to finish what he’d started on the sidewalk.
With Moby dancing around and lunging against him, the flame of passion simmered, leaving Creed to second-guess his intentions. If there hadn’t been barriers between them and the bedroom, he’d have gone straight there and made mad, passionate love to her. Moby’s exuberance cooled his heels, reminding him of his duties and responsibilities.
After Moby graced every bush in the yard, he raced back into the house.
Creed held the door for Emma, whose face was flushed, her eyes shining, her mouth swollen from his kiss. He couldn’t walk away, but he could give her choices. “Why don’t you shower while I feed Moby.”
“I know where everything is. I’ll take care of Moby while you shower.” She headed for the kitchen, leaving Creed standing in the hallway, wishing they could as easily pick up where they’d left off and take it ten steps farther. Ten steps toward her bedroom, getting naked and making love until Moby demanded another trip outside.
With Emma out of sight, Creed should have been able to focus, to get his mind back in the game. He forced himself to enter the bathroom rather than follow her to the kitchen. He closed the door behind him, shed the blanket and his shorts and twisted the handle on the shower until the water sprayed in a warm, steady stream.
He stepped into the tub and closed the curtain, letting the warm water wash away the salt of the ocean. The only bar of soap was the one Emma used, with a fragrant floral scent. Lathering it in his hands, he rubbed it over his body, realizing the mistake as the scent he associated with Emma surrounded him. He braced himself against the shower wall and reached to adjust the water to Cool. Before his hand closed around the handle, the shower curtain whooshed to the side and Emma stepped in behind him, grabbed the bar of soap and collected lather in her hands.
With his back to her, he grit his teeth. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.” She set the bar of soap in the dish and smoothed her soapy hands over his shoulders, down his back and around to his belly.
Creed groaned. “I’m not staying.”
“I know.” Her hands slid lower.
His groin tightened, his member jutting out, hard, stiff and ready for when her fingers closed around it.
Every nerve in his body stood up and cheered, sending happy messages to his brain and back to his member, making him even harder.
Her fingers, slick with lather, rode him to the tip and back to the base. She pressed her pelvis against his buttocks, the furry mound of hair brushing against him in a tantalizingly sexy way.
Creed flexed his hips, sliding through her hands, again and again, the tension building to a fevered pitch. When he thought he’d explode, he grabbed her hands and held them still, concentrating on breathing so that he didn’t come too soon. Then he turned and switched places with her, letting the water run down over her back and shoulders to drip off her perky breasts.
&nbs
p; “You’re beautiful,” he said. He squirted shampoo into his hands and combed his fingers through her hair, washing and rinsing it until it was squeaky clean.
Emma tipped her head back, letting the water run down over her face and chest. She handed him the bar of soap, and he lathered it in his hands and set it on the dish. With smooth precision and a gentle touch, he ran his hands over her shoulders and down to her breasts, where he pinched the rosy buds into tight little knots. Soap suds bubbled up and slipped down her torso to the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs.
She shifted her feet apart and guided his hand downward to cup her sex, inviting him in.
His heart thundering against his ribs, Creed forced himself to move slowly, deliberately bringing her with him on the rise to what promised to be an earth-shattering experience.
He slid his fingers between her folds, stroking that nubbin of flesh, that delicate sensory organ packed full of nerve endings.
She arched her back, bracing her hands on his shoulders, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
When he touched her again, she gasped. “Oh, yeah.”
His member pulsed, throbbing, aching to be inside her. But he wanted her there with him, so he pressed a finger into her channel, slick with water and her own juices.
She covered his hand with hers and pressed his finger deeper.
Creed slipped another finger inside her and another until he had three fingers stretching her channel, preparing her for what came next. Then it hit him. “Do you have protection?”
Her eyes blinked open, and she stared at him a moment before she said, “Yes. In the nightstand by my bed.”
The water cooling, Creed reached behind her and switched it off, shoved the curtain aside and stepped out onto the bath mat.
“Towels are in the cabinet behind you,” she said.
He opened the door and grabbed a fluffy white towel and smoothed it over her body, stopping often to take a tempting nipple between his teeth. She reached around him, snatched another towel and dried him at the same time.
