Talk to Me

by Stephanie Reid

  The knock at his door was a welcome distraction. Sean, coming to pick up Emily’s bag.

  God, he hoped Sean wouldn’t want to talk about Emily, that he’d just leave well enough alone. Ironic that Sean had worried about him hurting Emily, when it was his sister who had taken the axe to their relationship.

  Tossing his untouched leftovers on the table, he went to open the door.

  * * *

  “Emily?”

  She tried to assess his tone. She heard surprise, but couldn’t quite tell if it was good surprise or bad surprise.

  He made no move to invite her in, and she stood in the hall, wondering how to begin. “I—uh…”

  “Came to get your bag? You could have just sent Sean.”

  Bad surprise, definitely bad surprise.

  “Mac, I’m sorry. I know you’re upset with me, and that it’s hard for you to understand why I said what I did.” She talked fast, afraid he would cut her off or slam the door in her face. “But this wasn’t just some silly connection, like I’m counseling the woman you wrote a speeding ticket to last week. This was a huge conflict of interest involving you, a lawsuit, and Ruth Swanson.”

  His eyes widened. “Ruth Swanson? She is your client?”

  “Yes.” She took advantage of his stunned silence to push past him and into his apartment.

  He closed the door behind her. None too gently.

  “I feel like an idiot for not making the connection sooner,” she said. “I should have known, should have remembered.”

  “Why are you telling me this? This morning you wouldn’t tell me anything, not even in the broadest terms. What’s changed?”

  “Ruth gave her consent for me to talk to you about it—asked me to talk to you, actually—to explain.”

  He stared at her silently, a crease of confusion between his brows.

  Taking a deep breath, she laid it all out, explaining how Ruth had confronted her that morning, how Ruth had been upset, how she’d gone to Ruth’s house to try to smooth things over and found her clutching a suicide note from her son. “He provoked you, Mac. On purpose,” she finished.

  “Suicide by cop,” he whispered. “Jesus.” He turned away, bracing himself on the breakfast bar, head bowed.

  “And she’s dropping the lawsuit.”

  He nodded once, the only indication that he’d heard.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I guess. No…I don’t know.” He shook his head as if he could shake free the memories. “You’d think I’d feel relieved. I’m off the hook, you know? But I’m not relieved. I’m…” He beat the counter once with his fist, his back muscles tightening, his entire frame rigid. “Fuck.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “I’m fucking pissed,” he said, his head still hanging down, his gaze still glued to the breakfast bar. “Does that even make any sense?”

  “Of course it does. You feel used. Mitchell couldn’t do it himself, or didn’t have the means, so he made you pull the trigger.”

  Mac said nothing. She wanted to comfort him, to place her hand on his stiff shoulders and give a squeeze, but his closed off stance said, don’t touch me.

  He let out a quick breath, more hiss than sigh. “Fucking selfish…it was a selfish thing to do…and now I have to live with this…this…”

  It took everything she had to stay rooted to the spot, but he kept his back to her and showed no sign that he wanted her comfort. She had to give him time to process this news.

  “I’m so fucking mad…but at the same time…” His voice turned hoarse. “He was just a kid…” He sucked in a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, still facing away from her.

  “It’s possible to be angry about the situation and still feel sad…for Mitchell…for his family. He must have been in a terrible amount of pain to do such a thing.”

  Mac nodded. “I guess maybe I am sad. I think I have been since it happened.” He turned and leaned back against the breakfast bar, arms crossed, gaze locked to the floor. “I used to think about him and wonder what he’d gotten mixed up in. It was weird. He didn’t have any kind of record. Got good grades. Maybe not the most popular kid in school, but he had a solid group of friends. All good kids. We could never figure out what led him to hold up that store. And now this…this doesn’t make any sense either.”

  “I know. Ruth was shocked too. She said she had no idea he was that depressed, that desperate.” She wished he would look at her. “It wasn’t Ruth’s fault though, and it wasn’t yours either.”

  Finally, his gaze met hers, his brown eyes glassy with tears he would not shed. “Do you think it would be okay for me to talk to her sometime? To tell her how sorry I am for her loss?”

  “Ye—” Emily tried again to speak past the tightness in her throat. “Yes. I think it would.”

  He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling for a moment, and she imagined he was packing up his emotions, compartmentalizing them into a box to be unpacked and examined at a later date. When he returned her gaze, he was composed. Distant.

  “Are you going to keep counseling her?”

  “Yes. I think now, more than ever, she needs someone to talk to, needs support. It would be horrible if she had to start from scratch, building a relationship with someone new.”

  He nodded. “So, we’re right back where we were this morning.”

  “Actually, that depends on you—what you want. Ruth knows how I feel about you…and now that she’s decided to drop the lawsuit, she didn’t see any reason why you and I couldn’t—”

  “How do you feel about me Emily?”

  I love you. The words were there before he’d even finished the question, but she didn’t want to scare him off with such a declaration. After all, up until very recently, he hadn’t even wanted to be in a relationship—baby steps, she reminded herself.

  “I care about you,” she said. “So much…you have no idea.” When he made no response—his expression cool, his features hard as granite—she realized how much she must have hurt him. “I know you must hate me for breaking things off, you probably feel like I chose her over you…I suppose, in a way, I did, but I had to do what I thought was right, that’s just part of who I am. And the only reason I had the strength to do it at all was because I’d hoped it wouldn’t be permanent. I’d hoped that one day there’d be nothing standing between us.”

  His brown eyes darkened with intensity, and his stillness unnerved her.

  She sputtered on. “But…I guess…maybe my choice will always stand between us. Or do you think—”

  She froze, stunned when he was suddenly there, his lips on hers, his arms pulling her against his body—hard. Slowly, she melted into him, and he gentled the kiss, his mouth moving over hers with increasing tenderness.

  Relief, liquid and warm, flowed through her, along with an overwhelming sense of rightness. This was where she was supposed to be. With this man. In this moment. And every moment after.

  Her arms around him, she held fast, immersing herself in him, using all five of her senses to burn this moment permanently into her memory. The clean smell of his skin, the sound of his ragged breath in her ear, the feel of corded back muscles beneath her palms.

  He nibbled at her neck and she asked, “Does this mean you forgive me?”

  “Shh.” He covered her lips again for a moment then pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’re right. Wanting to do the right thing, helping people, is part of who you are—shit, it’s one of the things I love most about you. But not tonight.” He kissed her again, working his way down from her lips to her neck, her collarbone. “Tonight, we’re putting your needs first. Tonight is all about what you want.” Placing his lips next to her ear, the heat of his breath melting her in places much farther south, he whispered, “What do you want tonight, Emily?”

  “You,” she sighed. “Oh, God, I want you.”

  He groaned and moved against her, the evidence of his desire mak
ing her feel drugged. Everywhere he touched with his lips, his hands, he infused her with a powerful high from which she never wanted to come down.

  He led her into the bedroom, where he began removing her clothes, kissing her skin as he revealed it. Slowly, tortuously, he undid each button of her green silk blouse, creating swirls of desire with his tongue everywhere he went.

  Emily reached for his shirt, but he stopped her hand. “Uh-uh, tonight’s about you, remember?”

  She smiled. “I remember you said tonight was about what I want. And I want to remove your clothes.” She pulled off his polo shirt, and his brown eyes darkened to almost black with desire. She ran her hands down his chest, his abs, and then his jeans, taking her time to unzip them, rubbing her hand along the length of him over the fabric, teasing to her heart’s content.

  She pushed his jeans and boxers down and he stepped out of them obediently. His clothes now a pile on the floor, she looked at him, devouring him from head to toe. “Beautiful,” she said, only realizing she’d said it out loud when he groaned and pulled her to him, kissing her as if he could consume her.

  He helped her step out of her slacks and eased her back on his bed. Only her bra and panties remained, and mentally she said a quick thanks to Julie for packing only sexy, lacy undergarments in her bag.

  Mac reclined alongside her, running his fingertips over the black lace of her bra. “I like this,” he rasped. He leaned over to suck on her nipple through the lace, and she arched off the bed, the sensation somehow heightened by the warm, wet fabric separating his lips from her skin.

  He lavished attention on both sides, then moved lower, sliding her panties down and settling between her legs. Realizing what he was going to do, she stiffened and tried to slide up the bed, away from him.

  “Shh. Try it, Em. You might like it.”

  She couldn’t quite relax, but she stopped trying to escape. She moaned when he flicked his tongue over her most sensitive area. He laughed against her, seemingly pleased with her reaction, and the vibration had her gripping the sheets and writhing beneath him.

  “Please…Mac, I need you. Now.”

  He rose up over her, reaching toward his nightstand.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said. “I’m on the pill.” She couldn’t bear the thought of anything between them, not tonight. She was relieved when he didn’t object but instead kissed her while easing himself inside her.

  “Oh, God,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ve never done this without—you feel so good.”

  She raised her hips toward him, coaxing him into a faster rhythm, unable to hold back the urgency. Waves of pleasure crested within her core, and she held on tight, staying with him, moving to meet his every thrust. Reaching her peak, she called out his name. He crashed into her one last time, letting go, pouring himself inside her until they were both sated and complete.

  She lay recovering comfortably in his arms and wished this moment, this feeling of contentment, would last forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Emily shivered slightly against Mac and he pulled the comforter up over them. She burrowed closer, and wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head. She smelled amazing as usual. It was her scent, and he loved it. His eyelids started getting heavy, and he was just beginning to drift into contented oblivion when she whispered, “I should probably go.”

  Now alert, he held his breath, tuning into her mood. Had he done something wrong? Why the hell did she want to leave?

  She snuggled closer. “I don’t want to, but I should.”

  He held any feelings of relief at bay, not yet willing to believe she wasn’t pushing him away again. “Why do you need to go?” he asked, his voice colder than he’d intended.

  “Mmm.” She stifled a yawn. “I’ve run out of clothes in the bag Julie brought over for me. I won’t have anything to wear to work tomorrow.” She propped herself up on one elbow, her liquid blue eyes gazing down at him. “Besides…” She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling. “I think we both need some sleep after last night.” She touched her lips to his, her kiss light, teasing, seductive. “And if I stay here with you, I’m not going to want to sleep.”

  He had her on her back in less than second.

  “How about a quickie for the road then?” he asked, his body already reacting to her sensual teasing.

  She laughed underneath him. “Mac, come on, I’m serious. I really should go.”

  He knew she was just being practical, responsible. It scared him how much he wanted her to stay, not just tonight, but every night. She couldn’t feel the same way about him, he’d fallen too fast, but if his recent good luck continued—the luck that had brought Emily into his life—then maybe one day she would grow to love him as much as he loved her. In the meantime, he’d have to be patient—try not to overwhelm her with this need to be close to her all the time.

  “No quickie, then?” he asked, trying for his best puppy dog sad face.

  She smiled. “Well, maybe just this once.”

  And the lucky streak continues.

  * * *

  An hour and a half later than she’d intended, Emily made her way out of Mac’s apartment. It was well after ten and she had several things she needed to do when she got back to her place, but she didn’t regret a second she’d spent in Mac’s arms.

  Walking through the parking lot to her car, she realized she was grinning like a fool. She glanced around quickly, relieved to see she was alone, and no one had witnessed her goofy love-struck expression.

  She unlocked her car, her brain in tunnel-vision mode, a small portion of her mind focused on the actions of opening the door and starting the car, and the rest of her thoughts centered on Mac.

  She put the car in reverse, glanced in her rearview mirror, and screamed.

  “Hello, Emily,” said the shadow sitting in the center of the back seat.

  She threw the gearshift into park, simultaneously unbuckling her belt and reaching for the door handle. But the cold hard pressure of a gun pressed to her temple made her freeze.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I was you. Unless you think you can outrun a bullet.” The shadow moved up behind her, his face now lit by the faint glow of the streetlight streaming in from the windshield.

  “Ted! What the hell are you doing in my car? How did you get in here?”

  “The same way that bastard you’re fucking would have unlocked your car if you’d locked your keys in it. With a slim-jim.”

  Emily’s heart hammered against her ribs. He’d been watching her. He knew about Mac—knew Mac was a cop.

  Using the same calming technique she used when her clients got her riled, she tried to detach herself from the situation. She focused on slowing her heart rate and thinking logically. She needed to keep Ted talking. Make sure they didn’t go to a second location.

  “How did you find me here?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t be able to resist telling her how smart he was.

  “Well, it wasn’t easy. You are one sneaky little slut.” His face contorted with rage. “You said you would call me. You never called me, Emily,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “It hasn’t been that long…I told you I’ve been really busy lately.”

  He poked her temple harder with the gun and she winced. “Busy fucking another man, you mean.” His angry features crumpled into concern. “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? You said you would call, and when you didn’t, I went to your house to see if you were okay.”

  He didn’t care if she was okay, the sick son of a bitch. He just couldn’t stand the thought that he’d been dismissed. She remembered all the questions he’d asked during their blind date, the overly charming mannerisms, and his barely masked irritation with the waitress over a harmless little question. Can I take your plate? she’d asked, and his scathing answer had been all the evidence Emily had needed that Ted was not worth her time.

  “But you weren’t at home, Emily.” She hated the sound of her name
on his lips. “You weren’t at home, and I knew I had to find you.”

  “How did you know where I lived?” she asked, stalling, scanning the parking lot, hoping someone would appear.

  “I walked you to the car after our date. You remember don’t you? When I kissed you against your car? I know you liked it.”

  Bile rose in her throat, and she realized fear had a taste.

  “I saw your license plate number,” he said. “And from there it wasn’t difficult to find out everything I needed to know.”

  “That was smart of you.”

  “Don’t placate me, bitch. You’ve had me on a wild goose chase for almost a week, and I’m sick of your games.”

  Emily kept her mouth shut and frantically searched her brain for a way out of this situation. With a gun at her temple there was little she could do. If she honked the horn, he might shoot. If she reached for the door again, he would most assuredly shoot.

  “I still don’t understand how you found me here,” she said, buying more time.

  “I found your parents’ obituary and saw you had a brother.” He said it as if an obit had just been lying around, and he happened to see it. Bullshit. He must have used her plate number to get her full name and then done some serious internet searching to find her and Sean’s names in her parents’ archived obituary.

  “I went to his house Monday night,” Ted said, his oily voice making the hair on her nape stand up. “You hadn’t called all weekend, and I was worried.”

  Worried my ass, you freakin’ lunatic.

  “I watched his house, and when you didn’t show up there, I decided to follow him.”

  Knowing how close he’d been to her family, to her precious niece and nephews—it made her nauseous.

  “He led me straight to the police station, where I found your car. And then it was just a matter of waiting.” His self-satisfied grin showed how pleased he was with himself.