“I unball Leo’s socks. Leo rubs my feet. It works for me.”
Cat sipped more of her tea, then sighed, wondering if Russell would rub her feet. “It’s ridiculous.”
“I bet that’s what Sean and Emma said, too.”
And the conversation circled back to the kids, which was just fine with Cat. She hadn’t yet sorted out how she felt about Russell, so she didn’t want to talk about it.
Maybe it was infatuation. They’d both been alone a long time. But that didn’t mean either of them wanted to pack up and start a new life together. That was a big commitment and she wasn’t sure she had the energy or the desire for that at this point.
It was much easier to meddle in Sean’s and Emma’s lives than dwell on her own.
Once he’d dumped his brother off at the airport, Sean had nothing to do but kill time until it was time to get Emma back in his bed. Or her bed, actually. He tried out the sound of their bed, but his mind shied away from it. Made them sound too much like a real couple.
As long as Emma was naked in it, he didn’t really care whose bed it was. He’d been quick on the trigger last night and, while he didn’t have anything to prove, he intended to take his time with her tonight. If tonight ever came. The only time he’d ever seen clocks move so slowly was during his flight back to the States.
Emma’s truck wasn’t in the driveway when he pulled in and, at first, he thought the house was empty. But then he heard laughter and looked out the window to find Cat in the backyard swing, the cordless house phone pressed to her ear. Since he wasn’t about to interrupt her conversation to ask her where Emma had taken off to, he grabbed his book and stretched out on the couch to read.
He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, the sun had shifted and he could hear Emma’s voice coming from the direction of the kitchen. He stretched and sat up to set his book on the coffee table. That wasn’t a bad way to kill some time. After a detour upstairs to take a leak and kill the nap breath, he went looking for the women. They were on the deck, but they had the windows and the back door open to let in the light breeze, so he could hear them clearly as he opened the fridge to grab a beer.
“So Lisa as your matron of honor and Stephanie as bridesmaid,” Cat was saying. “Do you know who Sean wants as best man?”
“No. We haven’t gotten that far yet.” He didn’t hear any tension in Emma’s voice, but he guessed she was feeling it. Planning a wedding that wasn’t going to happen was weird, to say the least.
“Maybe he could ask Mike’s oldest son—Joey, right?—to be a groomsman so he can escort Stephanie.”
“I don’t know,” Emma said. “I don’t think it’s very fair to ask one of the boys and not the others.”
“True. Maybe they could be ushers and then join their parents once everybody’s seated.”
Sean had just decided to beat a fast retreat back to the living room when he heard a chair scrape back. “We can talk about that later, Gram. Right now I should go wake Sean so he’s not still groggy when we ask him to fire up the grill.”
He didn’t have time to escape, so he leaned against the counter and twisted the top of his beer. Emma paused when she saw him, and then grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hall to the living room.
“Where did you disappear to?” he asked.
“What? Oh, a client had an emergency. But—”
“There are gardening emergencies?”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Yes. When you’re rich, everything’s an emergency. But did you hear what Gram was saying?”
“Yeah. How the hell are guys supposed to pick a best man, anyway? I’ve got three brothers and I like them all. And what about Mikey? Or Kevin or Joe? It seems easier to pick a stranger off the street so you don’t have to play favorites. I guess maybe I’d ask Mitch. He’s the oldest, so most of what the rest of us know about catching a woman we learned from him.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, you haven’t actually caught a woman yet. And it doesn’t really matter who you choose, because there is no wedding.”
She was wound up like an eight-day clock, so he didn’t dare laugh at her. Her cheeks were bright and she kept spinning her ring around and around on her finger. Since there was nothing he could say to make her feel better about Cat wanting to plan their fake wedding, he slid the hand not holding his beer around her waist and hauled her close.
“You worry too much,” he told her.
“And you—”
He kissed her to shut her up. And because all he’d been able to think about since the last time he’d had his hands on her was getting his hands on her again. And, most of all, because he liked kissing her. A lot. Maybe too much, if he thought about it.
So he didn’t think about it. Instead, he lost himself in the taste of her mouth and the softness of her lips and the way her hands slid over his lower back, holding him close.
“Oh,” Cat said from behind him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No,” Emma said. “We were just…talking.”
“I can see that.”
Since it was going to be at least a couple of minutes before he was fit to turn around and face anybody, never mind her grandmother, Sean sidestepped around Emma and grabbed the television remote. “I’m going to see if I can catch tomorrow’s weather and then I’ll start the grill.”
Fortunately, they made it through the evening without any more talk of bridesmaids and ushers thanks to Emma and him steering the conversation toward Florida and television and anything else they could think of that didn’t involve weddings. But if he’d thought the minutes were slow to tick away before, the seemingly endless time between dinner and bedtime was excruciating.
Finally the time came for him to crawl naked between the sheets and wait for Emma to come out of the bathroom. He didn’t really care if she was naked or not. It would only take a few seconds to get her out of what she wore to bed.
When she finally came out, wearing her usual sleepwear, he grinned and flipped back the covers for her.
She arched an eyebrow at him, then went over to shut off the light. “Pretty cocky, don’t you think? Just assuming I’ll sleep with you again?”
“Last night was a little quick. I think we can do better.”
By the time Emma reached the bed, she was naked, leaving behind her a trail of clothes. “Are you saying you can do better? Because you set the bar pretty high, you know.”
He didn’t waste any more time with words. Once she was in the bed, he rolled onto his side and cupped her face in his hand. Her eyes were dark pools he wanted to drown in, so he moved his gaze to her mouth. She was worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth and he kissed her to make her stop. And then he kept kissing her because even the promise of the good feelings to come didn’t intrigue him more than her mouth.
“You’re very good at that,” she said a little breathlessly when he reluctantly broke it off.
“I’m very good at many things.”
“Oh, really? And you can back that up?” When he nodded, she stretched her body like a cat’s, offering herself to him. “Take your time.”
Even though his blood was practically boiling, he flicked his tongue over her lip and smiled. “I intend to.”
He explored every inch of her, definitely taking his time as he learned where and how to touch her to make her crazy. He kept touching her, with his hands and with his mouth, until she was panting and squirming under him. Then he slid his finger into her wet heat and rubbed her clit with his thumb until her hips bucked and she pounded his shoulder with her fist because she couldn’t scream.
And then he did it all again.
He lost track of time. Lost track of everything but Emma and the way he wanted to make her feel, until she grabbed him by the hair and dragged him up her body.
“Whatever you were trying to prove, you proved,” she said between panted breaths. “I want you inside me. Now.”
He slipped on a condom in record time and set
tled between her legs. She lifted her head, kissing him fiercely as he entered her, and then dropped her head to the pillow. He watched her eyes, letting them drag him under as he thrust into her. They were both too far gone for finesse and it wasn’t nearly long enough before the pleasure hit him and knocked him for a loop as Emma bit her knuckle, trying to be quiet as the orgasm racked her body.
Oh yeah, that was better. When he’d finally caught his breath, Sean disposed of the condom and then pulled the covers up over them. He tried to nudge her over a little, but she was as limp as overcooked spaghetti and, when he told her to move over, she mumbled something he couldn’t hear into the pillow.
Curling up around her, Sean grinned as he closed his eyes. Maybe tomorrow night he’d make her do all the work.
“Do you think if you stare at those trees long enough, they’ll shrivel up and disappear?”
Emma struggled to refocus her attention on Sean and away from the problem at hand. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at that spot for half an hour now.”
She was sitting on the summer cottage’s back steps, looking over a piece of property she’d been invited to bid on. “I’m not looking at the trees. It’s the exposed roots that are the problem. And the overall drainage.”
He was leaning against a tree, one hand holding a soda and the other hooked in his pocket. “And staring helps?”
“Yes, it does.” She stood and brushed off the seat of her jeans. “See those places where the dead leaves are thick and decomposing? That means, during the snow melt and spring rains, the water was collecting there. The drainage sucks, party because of these exposed tree roots, and standing water’s a problem I need to deal with before I get hands-on with the landscaping.”
“Does the homeowner want the shade or can you rip the trees out?”
She shook her head and slid her phone out of her pocket. She’d already taken a dozen photos of the property, but she snapped a couple more from that angle. “Can’t take the trees out. This shoreline’s more regulated than nuclear waste.”
“Even the tree roots?”
“Huge erosion factor. I have to work around them.” But there was nothing else she could do on-site. She had the photos and the measurements to plug into her software, so she’d be spending several hours with her computer to generate prints and estimates for the homeowner to consider. “We’re done here.”
“Okay, boss,” he said, winking at her as he pushed away from the tree.
“Oh, sure. Now I’m the boss. How come I’m never the boss when I want to drive my truck?”
He didn’t answer her, but she could see the smirk flirting with his lips as he disappeared around the corner of the cottage. After tucking her phone and memo book back into her pockets, she followed him and wasn’t surprised at all to find him already in the driver’s seat.
“Where to now?” he asked once she was in and buckled up.
“Take a right and then a left when we hit the main road. The Johnsons think they’ve got some tree limbs about to come down and they want me to look at it. They don’t want to pay a tree service if they don’t have to.”
“I thought your clients didn’t mind throwing their money around.”
“If they have it. The Johnsons were one of my first clients. Their kids all moved away and they were moving into a smaller house. Mrs. Johnson didn’t want to leave her peonies behind, so I transplanted them for her. They’re far from rich.”
“We can take care of the tree limbs.” She gave him a doubtful look, but he was serious. “I grew up in a lodge in the middle of the woods. I’ve limbed a few trees in my time.”
They reached the main road and she pointed left as a reminder even as he turned his blinker on. “How come you came to New Hampshire when you left the army instead of going home?”
“Wanted to see Uncle Leo and Aunt Mary. Hang out with my cousins.”
After a few moments passed, she realized he wasn’t going to say anything else. And that made her think about how most of what she knew about him, she’d actually learned from Lisa before she’d even met him. “What was it like, growing up in a snowmobile lodge?”
“It was…okay. The Northern Star’s a big place and has a lot of land, so we had room to run. Our bedrooms were separate from the guest rooms, and we had our own family room and bathroom. But it’s weird having strangers in your house every weekend and I never got used to it.”
“So you don’t want to go back there, then?”
He turned his head to look at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “Not really, no.”
“Take your next left,” she said after a few miles of silence. “After Gram leaves, are you going to go back to the apartment over Jasper’s?”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Don’t know.”
“Okay.” She directed him through a few more turns. “It’s the last house on the right. Beige, with cranberry shutters.”
He pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, but didn’t make a move toward getting out. “What’s with the questions? We have sex and all of a sudden you’re interested in my childhood?”
Too stunned to respond, Emma stared at him for a minute. Then she laughed. “You are so paranoid. It’s called making conversation.”
“So you’re not getting ideas now that we’re sleeping together?”
Still laughing, she opened her door and slid out of the truck. “No, I’m not getting any ideas about you and me.”
She had a few ideas an hour later, though, when Sean was sweaty and all sexy and in charge. Ideas about him getting sweaty with her. Ideas about him, naked and soapy in the shower. She even had a few ideas about finding some place secluded to park the truck and not waiting until they got home.
After giving the Johnsons’ tree limbs a good looking over, Sean had grabbed some rope and the chainsaw out of toolboxes in the back of her truck and gone to work. He was about halfway through the job now and, so far, she hadn’t had to do anything but guide a few of the smaller limbs away from the house with the rope after he tied them off.
Once he dropped a main limb, he made quick work of cutting off the smaller branches before cutting it into chunks of wood Emma, along with the homeowners, could set off to one side. It would be a while before it would be any good in a woodstove, but Mr. Johnson was going to stack it and let it dry out. She didn’t normally let her clients work alongside her, but it made her feel better about the fact she was going to charge them next to nothing. But after a while, Mrs. Johnson brought out lemonades for Emma and Sean, then fussed at her husband to get in out of the sun for a few minutes.
“I was out of line before,” Sean said when they were alone.
“When before? Not letting me drive? The sticky note on the bathroom asking me to never make pasta salad again?”
“Before, when I assumed you were picking out white picket fences just because you asked me about my childhood.”
“I already have a white fence. Which I installed all by myself, by the way.” She took a sip of her lemonade. “I’m not sure what kind of women you’ve dated before, but I don’t hear wedding bells during sex.”
“I guess I’ve dated some women who do, then. Just wanted to make sure things aren’t getting messy.” He drained his glass, then he pulled up the hem of his T-shirt and mopped the sweat off his face, baring the abs she loved running her hands over. And, of course, he caught her looking. “Speaking of sex, maybe you should—”
That thought was cut off by the reappearance of Mrs. Johnson, and Sean flashed Emma a naughty grin. “I’ll tell you later.”
She’d look forward to it.
Chapter Fourteen
On Wednesday they only worked half a day, leaving Sean free to pay a visit to his aunt and uncle while Emma caught up on some paperwork. Emma’s truck wasn’t in the driveway when he got home, but he could hear music, so he knew somebody was home.
Sean found Emma in the
kitchen and he almost turned around to go anywhere else. She had the refrigerator pulled away from the wall and was cleaning the baseboard trim behind it with a toothbrush. While the view of her ass was sweet since she was on her hands and knees, it didn’t bode well for his frame of mind.
But when he got closer and saw the coils on the back of the fridge had not only been vacuumed, but were actually gleaming, he got a little worried. A person whose refrigerator coils could pass a military inspection couldn’t be right in the head.
“You okay?” he asked.
She didn’t stop scrubbing. “Sure.”
“Liar.”
“Whatever.”
“Emma, stop for a sec.”
Much to his surprise, she listened. Tossing the toothbrush into a bucket, she sat back on her heels and turned her head to look at him. “What’s up?”
“Where’s Cat?”
“Said she had some errands to do so she took my truck and went into town. She’s probably just sneaking off to see Russell.”
Clue number one. “She’s sixty-five years old. I doubt she needs to sneak off if she wants to see a man.”
Her jaw tightened. “Then why didn’t she tell me that’s where she’s going?”
“Maybe she’s not. Maybe she has errands to do.” When she rolled her eyes, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at her. “Why don’t you let me push the fridge back and I’ll take you out to lunch.”
“Why?”
“Because you clean when you’re upset and taking a toothbrush to the back of the fridge means you’re on the ragged edge. I’ll take you down to Concord for a Jasper burger. They can fix anything.”
She laughed, but it was on the bitter side. “Yeah, ’cause I need more Kowalskis in my day.”
“Hey, whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”
“I’m just not in a good mood today.”
He grinned and rocked back on his heels. “This is because of my magic penis, isn’t it? Four nights of it too much for you?”
Yours To Keep Page 14
