by Jessi Gage
It couldn’t be easy starting and keeping up a small business, especially starting so young and without any schooling. Emmett must have a good head on his shoulders. “What’s with the name? You got a son I don’t know about?”
“I picked the name thinking ahead. Figured I was bound to have a son sooner or later. At least, that’s what I thought when I was twenty. Pretty crazy, huh?”
She caught a wistful note in his voice. She could relate. Her life had certainly turned out different than she’d imagined when she was younger, the warm, fuzzy naivety of believing she could be a ballerina or a supermodel having long since given way to the cold practicality of needing to eat and pay rent.
Wistfulness aside, his choice of name for his business made her smile. It fit with his humor. It showed he had a bold, irreverent streak. He was definitely nothing like she would have imagined based on his inviting her to church. He might be religious, but there was more to him than where he went on Sunday mornings. And she wanted to get to know every last inch of him. If he’d let her.
Storefronts and traffic lights brightened the arterial street they were on. She didn’t recognize the area but would have to remember how they’d gotten here. There were bars and trendy storefronts mixed in with chain restaurants and antique shops. The strip was alive and eclectic. As soon as she started getting paychecks again, she would be coming here regularly.
Emmett’s elbow rested on the console between the seats. She nudged it with hers. “Presuming you get around to having one, what if your future son wants to go to college and move to New York to be a stock broker or a computer programmer? Will you rename your business?”
He grinned at her while they waited for a green light. “No. I’ll razz him mercilessly until he comes around.” He winked, and her heart stuttered.
Jeez, the guy should carry a concealed weapons permit for that smirk.
“So, you’re done with your degree. Does that mean you’re sticking around for a while?” he asked.
“Why? Would you miss me if I went back to Boston?”
He met her eyes as they moved forward again. “Yeah,” he said lightly, grinning as he looked back at the road. “I think I would.”
She matched his light tone to mask how touched she felt. “Well, you’re in luck then, because I plan to stay. At least for a year.”
There was no doubt in her mind Grandma Nina needed her. Even if she had her fancy-pants nursing home taking care of her physical needs, it couldn’t be clearer that she needed family around her. But Jade wasn’t sure she could handle small-town life long term. Maybe Jilly would move into the house with her when she got back from Peru. Then Jade could go back to Boston if she wanted, leaving Grandma Nina in Jilly’s far more capable hands.
“So, you looking for work around here?”
She shook away the melancholy that tried to cling to her good mood, and told him about her job search until he pulled into a parking lot so full they had to drive past the paved portion and park on gravel. As soon as Emmett cut the ignition, she opened her door to get out.
“Oh, no you don’t. Sit,” he commanded. “Stay.” He drew out the word as though talking to a puppy about to bolt.
Moving around the bed, he came to help her out of the truck. Then he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her into the club like he was proud as hell to be seen with her.
Billy Bob’s was packed from the industrial-style bar on the left to the sprawling billiards section to the right. Boots stomped and bodies twirled on a recessed dance floor straight ahead. The music was loud and twangy. As the bouncer checked their IDs, she smiled from ear to ear. The place had fun written all over it, and fun was exactly what she needed tonight.
They started with a drink and some shouted conversation at the bar then moved to the dance floor. After about ten seconds, they’d claimed the center of the polished parquet like the prom king and queen.
His lips on her ear so she could hear him, Emmett said, “Wow, you can dance!”
You have no idea. “Right back at you!”
During the fast songs, they spun around like they’d won two-stepping contests together. Slow songs had them chest-to-chest, brushing thighs and breathing each other in. Emmett nodded at several people he knew, most of them female, but he reserved his sexiest smile for her.
When they went back to the bar for more drinks, a triple-threat of girls approached. They were dressed the same, but in different hues. The one in the pink tummy-tied shirt, low-rise jeans, and western boots said in a put-on southern accent, “Hey, Emmett, how y’all doing?” She giggled and the ones in blue and beige chimed in. All three beamed at Emmett and appraised her coolly.
“Hey, Chelsea. I’m good. Real good.” He put his arm around Jade’s shoulders to the displeasure of the three. “This is Jade. Chelsea, Mara, and Erin,” he introduced. A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. She wondered if they had a sitcom. “She’s new to town.” He inclined his head toward her. “Doesn’t know anyone yet. You girls be real nice to her. I’ll be right back.” He put his mouth by her ear and whispered, “Got to pee like a racehorse.”
After a sweeping smile meant to encompass all three girls but paling in comparison to the one she got, he left them. What, did he think they were going to exchange phone numbers?
“Hi,” she said lamely.
“Hey, Jade.” It was the redhead, Erin. She seemed the least annoyed at her existence. “Where’d you move from?”
“Boston.”
Chelsea, the blonde, looked her up and down with an expression loosely translated as, “That explains the skanky dress.”
“So, you’re friends of Emmett’s?” she asked, knowing each one of them had either dated him or desperately wanted to.
“Yeah,” Erin said. “We know him from church.”
Uh-oh. Christian chicks. She smiled and nodded.
Chelsea added, “We’ve all been friends for years.”
I get it, I’ll never know him as well as you three.
They looked between each other awkwardly. Chelsea blurted, “We’re going to go dance now. We’ll see you out there.” What she’d meant to say was, “I hope you trip on those fancy shoes and fall flat on your ass.”
“Okay. See you.” She turned back to the bar and sipped her dirty martini. When Emmett got back she folded her arms across her chest and gave him a “really?” look.
“What?”
“Thanks for introducing me to your friends.”
“No problem. Maybe we’ll catch up with them for a game of pool later.”
“Men.” She drained her glass and led Emmett back to the dance floor.
Their up-tempo dancing was pure thigh-straddling, ass-grabbing perfection. Her awareness narrowed down to the thump of bass, the clomp of boots on parquet, the scent of body-heated cologne rolling off Emmett, and the proof behind his zipper that he was having exactly as much fun as she was. Knowing she was the envy of every girl in the room, especially Emmett’s friends, exhilarated her.
When the music changed to a slow number, a change came over Emmett. He drew her possessively close. Gone was the smile she’d grown used to, replaced by a solemn expression of desire. Her tummy did that little clench it always did when she knew she was going to get lucky later.
When Cowboy Casanova started and the pace picked up again, she burrowed her nose against his sweaty neck. Emmett gyrated with her. When his pelvis tilted against hers in a slow, sensual invitation, she pressed back.
He was a church guy, but he was still a guy. He had needs to match hers. Before this night was through, they would satisfy those needs together.
Strung tight, his body was all hard angles digging into her softer curves. He was breathing heavy, but from more than the exertion of dancing. It was from want. He was aroused. A sense of feminine power rushed through her.
“Not bad for a church-boy,” she praised, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.
He jolted in her arms. Then his stiff posture took
on an edge of discomfort.
The music slowed again, and the lights dimmed. A disco ball sent pin-pricks of rainbow light swirling all around them.
She expected him to pull her close, like he had for the other slow songs, but instead, he put distance between them.
Had she struck a nerve with the church-boy comment? Maybe he was sensitive about his religion or worried she wouldn’t want to keep seeing him because of it.
“So, does the invitation still stand for Sunday?” She wanted him to know she was open-minded. Church wasn’t her thing, but if it would fix whatever had just gone wrong between them, she’d go, just to let him know she was interested in all of him, not just the flirty, sexy guy who took her dancing. Jokingly, she added, “Maybe we can sit with Chelsea, Erin, and Mara?”
“You really want to come?” He scrutinized her face. His throat bobbed with a swallow.
“If the invitation still stands.”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. But his usual way of making her feel like the center of his world was absent. He was pulling away.
Shit.
Here she was having a blast with the nicest guy she’d dated in a long time, maybe ever. And she’d done something to turn him off in a big way. But what?
Realization dawned. She must have pinged his decency radar.
A pulse of heat that had nothing to do with arousal hit her in the chest. It was the pain of rejection.
Her dancing must have clued him in to what she’d done for a living right up until she’d moved up here.
He bent to her ear. “It’s getting late. You ready to head out?”
Damn it all to hell. She almost pulled her hand out of his as he led her off the floor, but disappointment sapped her feistiness.
Emmett’s sudden attitude change cut deep. One minute, he’d had a freaking hard-on for her and had been breathing hot over her cheek while she ground against it. The next, he was trying to get her home as fast as possible, and not for sex.
He was ashamed of her. Didn’t want anyone to see him dancing with a stripper. Judgmental prick.
She dropped his hand. “I need to use the restroom,” she blurted as she dashed for the privacy of the ladies room. She was pissed at Emmett, but she was even more pissed at herself for the tears filling her eyes.
* * * *
Emmett rubbed sweating palms on his jeans as he waited for Jade. He was glad for a few minutes to collect himself, since he’d almost climaxed in his Levi’s on the dance floor. He’d been so hard he’d been aching and she’d pressed right up against him and practically dry-humped him into oblivion. And he’d let her. Hell, he’d encouraged her.
Then she’d mentioned church, and he’d remembered himself with a stomach-dropping rush of embarrassment.
He’d been right about Jade. She was Kryptonite in a skintight dress.
The woman was funny, gorgeous, smart, and sexy as all get out. She’d be his ruin if he let her get any closer. He had to put some distance between them or run the risk of undoing years of restraint.
Nick would kill him for this close call.
His buddy had made him promise to check in with the “virginity patrol” as soon as he dropped Jade off after their date. “If I don’t hear from you by one,” Nick had said when they’d talked earlier in the day, “I’m going to drive up there with a shotgun and do what that girl’s daddy ought to be doing.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Threaten your horny ass with a pantload of buckshot, that’s what.”
He was glad to have a friend like Nick. He was a hundred miles away at seminary, but Emmett knew he could count on him to help him keep his vow. And Nick’s words had reminded him his own virtue wasn’t the only thing at stake. He doubted the sensual creature who had almost made him bust a nut in the middle of Billy Bob’s was a virgin, but he’d be damned if he’d let that affect how he treated her. As long as she was on a date with him, he was determined to treat her virtue with as much respect as his own. From this point on.
Which meant he would have to avoid her until he could think about her without his blood rushing straight to his dick.
Unfortunately, that might be never. At the moment, he couldn’t imagine a second date with Jade ending any different than the first. Not even a church-date. He could see it now, Jade beside him in a pew, her thigh brushing his, a hard-on tenting his khakis. If his deprived dick hadn’t already embarrassed him to death tonight, throbbing for attention during Pastor Tim’s sermon would do it for sure.
When Jade returned from the restroom, he kept a respectable distance and escorted her home like the gentleman he should have been all night. He dropped her off just a little after midnight and high-tailed it home to call Nick.
“I’m going to die a virgin,” he said when his buddy picked up.
Nick chuckled. “Same as Jesus, man. Same as Jesus.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re getting married in November. What am I going to do without you, man?”
“I’m not going anywhere. Marriage isn’t a death sentence.”
No, not a death sentence, but definitely a life sentence.
Maybe it made him a prick, but it felt like Nick was abandoning him. For so long, they’d been the only two members in an elite club, a proud club. In a few months, he would be all alone.
In more ways than one.
“Marriage isn’t going to change who I am. I’ll still be here for you.”
He fell into his leather recliner and flicked on Sports Center. “You better not try to convince me how great marriage is once you’re blissfully wed.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die, man. I know you’ve got issues.”
Nick was the only guy he could talk to about his number one fear. Divorce. Nick got it. He didn’t ever want to get divorced, either. But that didn’t scare him away from marriage. He was about to take the plunge with Ali, his girl of three and a half years. Emmett was happy for him. And terrified for him.
One girl for the rest of his life. What if it didn’t work out? What if they fell out of love? What if one of them cheated? What if they had a disagreement they just couldn’t get past? He could think of a hundred what-ifs, each just as likely as what had happened to his parents. In their case, their respective careers had been more important than their marriage. His dad had taken on the position of Chief of Police for Dover at the same time the principal of his mom’s law firm had offered her a satellite office in Philly. Neither of them had been willing to give up their opportunities even though those opportunities were four state lines and a six-hour drive apart. End of story. End of marriage.
If a marriage could end so easily, he couldn’t see why anyone would want one.
He signed off with Nick and got himself a beer. As he sipped from the longneck bottle, he wondered how his buddy could be one hundred percent sure he and Ali would be forever. Emmett was pretty sure he’d never feel one hundred percent about any girl, and even if he did, what if the girl didn’t?
So, he was going to die a virgin. And Jade definitely deserved better than a horn-dog like him who was afraid of commitment. Maybe Theo would be a better fit for her, after all.
A creaking sound made him look at his hand. He was squeezing the remote so hard his knuckles were white.
Who was he kidding? He had it bad for the Boston beauty.
Chapter 9
Jade slammed the front door and stormed up the stairs, but Emmett wouldn’t know because the dickhead hadn’t even walked her to her door.
What the hell? He’d been sweet, fun, and grabbier than a hoarder at a flea market for three-quarters of the night, then wham—the guy turned into an ice cube. It had been an extreme shift, even if it was the self-righteous reaction of a church-guy realizing he was dancing with a stripper. What was he, schizo?
She shucked her dress and shoved her arms into her oversized BC football T-shirt. The number was 15, the name Kresgie. When she’d been a sophomore at BC, she’d dated Richie Kresgie for a semester
. Thinking they had a real connection, she’d told him about her biological father, who was serving a life-term for kidnapping and raping a minor, her mom. Suddenly, Richie was sleeping with Sierra, a perky little cheerleader from Minnesota. She called the T-shirt her breakup jersey and always slept in it when her heart was sore, as a kind of masochistic security blanket.
Funny, she hadn’t thought of it the night she’d broken up with Brad over the phone. Ending a six-month relationship had stung less than Emmett’s rejection.
The worst part of it was she had really liked Emmett, liked with a capital L. They didn’t have a ton in common, but with him it didn’t seem to matter. Conversation between them flowed easy as water. They ran from one topic to the next, joking, disagreeing, and laughing like old friends. Their connection went beyond physical attraction. Emmett made her feel more comfortable and valuable than any guy ever had before, and he’d done it from practically the second she’d met him.
And now he was gone.
She didn’t fool herself into thinking Emmett-one-date-wonder-Herald would call her for church on Sunday. She could take a hint, or in Emmett’s case, a kick in the teeth.
He hadn’t exactly been subtle as he’d high-tailed it out of Billy Bob’s, driven her straight home, and taken off before she’d even made it into her house. Sure, he’d made polite conversation during the ride home—and she’d shown remarkable restraint by holding her tongue and not telling him off—but she didn’t need a freaking memo printed in all caps to know she was getting the brush-off.
It was over before it had started. She’d given him a chance even though she’d had reservations about the whole church thing, but he hadn’t been willing to do the same for her.
Jerk.
Scrubbing her makeup off in front of the bathroom mirror, she remembered her “spider” problem. But all she saw in the mirror was her face, lightly freckled with her foundation washed off, dripping with water, and a little puffy from the effort of holding back tears.
