Sandy had been quiet this whole time, but now she spoke up before Emily could, which was good because Emily felt all kinds of miserable at that moment. “You forgot another possibility.”
“What’s that?” Michelle asked, reaching for the wine bottle to refill her glass.
“They hook up, it’s awesome, and they live happily ever after.” Sandy shrugged and smiled. “That could happen, too.”
Michelle tipped her head from one side to the other, as if weighing the possibility. “I suppose it could.”
Emily held her glass up to Sandy. “Thank you.”
Sandy touched her glass to Emily’s. “Welcome.”
“Is that what you see happening?” Michelle asked, her expression completely serious. “Not that happily ever after would stop the trolls from talking anyway.”
Emily ignored that last part and took a moment to honestly think about it, but she really had no answer. “I don’t know. I mean, we don’t know each other that well, if I’m being truthful. We haven’t spent that much time together. We could be a hot mess. We’re super different…” She let her voice trail off.
“But?” Sandy asked.
“But I have this irresistible urge to slow dance with her.” Emily turned to her with a grin, felt her insides warm, then grow hot. “Just, hold her close and sway.” She searched the air for words. “I have never, ever been that affected by a kiss before. I have never, ever been so physically drawn to somebody before.” At Sandy’s raised brow, Emily nodded vigorously. “Yeah. I mean it. When I’m around her…I can say this to you guys because you know me, but it’s hard to articulate, and it makes me feel like I’m some teenage boy. When I’m around her, it’s like…like I get tugged in her direction and…” She gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure it’s because I’ve already gotten a taste. Figuratively and literally. My eyes get tugged. I am always looking at her and she’s so freaking gorgeous I can’t seem to stop. My nose, I want to inhale her scent all the time, which I know is kind of creepy, going around smelling somebody, but her perfume or soap or lotion or whatever it is…it’s intoxicating. My hands, though I’ve managed to keep control of them so far because…” Emily swallowed hard, looked up at her friends with pleading in her eyes. “I want to touch her so badly,” she whispered and was mortified to feel her eyes well up. Taking a moment, she pulled herself together, grabbed a chunk of cheese and chewed it slowly. “I don’t know what to do,” she finally admitted quietly.
It was then that she realized she probably wouldn’t get instant answers tonight because, judging by the expressions on her friends’ faces, they had no idea what she should do either.
“Well,” Emily said, with a resigned sigh, “I’m scheduled to go there Friday and walk some dogs. I guess I have until then to figure out the mysteries of life, love, and sex, huh?” She looked from one bewildered face to the other and back again. “Yeah, you two have been tons of help. Thanks for exactly nothing.”
Michelle grinned, as did Sandy. Raising her glass, she said, “To the mysteries of life, love, and sex being solved by Friday.”
“And to slow dancing,” Sandy added.
Emily simply shook her head and raised her glass to touch theirs.
Friday. Two days from today and she’d see Catherine again.
Then what?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FRIDAY WAS, TO PUT IT simply, chaos.
To start the day, Catherine had awakened with a splitting headache. She surmised that it came from—once again—not enough sleep. She couldn’t seem to get her mind to shut off at night. It rolled around every possible problem or concern she had in life, and amplified it in the darkness of her bedroom. By the time her alarm went off in the morning, she felt like she’d garnered maybe three hours of total sleep, but in fifteen-minute increments throughout the night. It was beyond frustrating.
To add to her stress and crankiness, a knock sounded on her front door ten minutes before she was scheduled to leave. Her neighbor, Scott Turner, stood on her front stoop with Geronimo in his arms. Which was weird, considering Catherine had just let him into the backyard a few minutes ago.
“What in the world?” she asked with a gasp, reaching for her dog.
“He was wandering down the street,” Scott said. “I was heading to work and I noticed him. Luckily, he came right to me.” He was a handsome guy, short and stocky, but with a warm, friendly face recently covered over by his annual winter beard. He was a mechanic and wore his usual navy blue coverall.
Catherine cuddled Mo close to her chest and could tell by his slight squirming that she might have been squeezing a little tightly, but she couldn’t help it. She kissed his head. “You could’ve been run over, buddy. You’re kind of hard to see in the snow, you know.” She looked up at Scott. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what to say.”
Scott smiled. “No problem. I’m glad I saw him. You might want to get the gate on your fence checked. I think it’s open.” He reached over and scratched Mo’s head. “Stay with your Mama, little guy. Okay?” With a wave, he was gone.
Now, Catherine sat in her office trying to focus on work, but glancing every couple of minutes at Geronimo sleeping soundly on his bed in the corner. Once she’d closed the door behind Scott, her entire body had begun to tremble. Not a person who scared easily, she’d had to accept how much the thought of Mo being hurt frightened her. Her first cup of coffee that morning had felt like acid in her stomach and she hadn’t been able to eat breakfast at all.
E-mails came fast and furious today, and she worked diligently on them. The phones rang like crazy and it was glaringly obvious by the overload of visitors—she could hear them in the lobby as she sat at her desk—that the holiday rush was definitely upon them. Christmas was next Thursday and people were beginning to lose their minds, the way they always did when the holidays got close. She went over figures, checked reports, dealt with incoming and outgoing checks and funds until her eyes burned. She had three meetings set up for today, one down, two to go, and she packed up her necessities for the next one.
“You stay here,” she said to Mo and gave him a chew toy to keep him occupied. Then she closed the door behind her and headed out to the conference room to meet with Jessica and David.
As expected, the lobby was bustling, and four volunteers manned the front desk rather than the usual two. As Catherine’s heels clicked across the faux-marble floor, she glanced up at the front doors and saw Emily pushing her way through. Once inside, she stomped her snow-covered feet on the mat and looked up to meet Catherine’s eyes.
They locked.
For a split second, it felt as if all the air, all the sound, had simply been sucked right out of the room, like Catherine was under water, her ears registering only muffles, her lungs empty…
And then it was over. Air came rushing back. Sound barked back into being. Catherine blinked rapidly several times, raised a hand to wave at Emily, then forced her feet to continue taking her to the conference room. Once there, she dropped into a chair and worked quietly on breathing like a normal person.
If quizzed later on exactly what was said during the meeting, Catherine would fail miserably. She estimated that she caught maybe fifty percent of the things they discussed. And that was being generous. God, I’m useless today, she thought, annoyed with herself. She caught more than one look of concern tossed in her direction by Jessica, but she ignored them and pretended to focus on the pages in front of her. When the meeting wrapped up, Catherine was flooded with relief.
On her way out the door, Jessica stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “Hey, you okay?”
Catherine gave a nod. “Yup. I’m fine.”
“You look tired.” Jessica’s face showed unease, worry, but Catherine found herself irritated instead.
“I’m good.” She left Jessica standing in the doorway, knowing she’d been rude, but not caring at the moment. She wanted to get back to her office, pet her dog, and finish her work so she could get out of here and go home
. What the hell was wrong with her?
After a number of years working at Junebug Farms, Catherine had grown used to the noise. Some days it was louder than others, that was the truth, but generally, her brain had learned to shut out any excess sound—barking, whining, howling, the constant hum of conversation, phones ringing, doors swinging open and closed. It was an endless symphony of commotion, but she no longer noticed.
Until today.
Today, it all seemed amplified. The barks were almost unbearable. The ringing phones seemed extra loud and extra frequent. Even the cats’ meowing seemed to be at a higher decibel level than normal. Catherine looked around and for just a moment wondered if she was having a stroke or suffering from a brain aneurysm. She blinked hard, glanced at the double doors to the dog wing as they opened, saw Emily halfway down the aisle, dog leash in hand. Again, she glanced up as Catherine was looking and their gazes caught.
Why is today so weird?
Shaking herself loose from Emily’s invisible tether, she headed down the hallway to her office. When she opened the door, Mo greeted her, put his front paws up on her leg, and she felt instant relief. She inhaled slowly, a big, full breath, and then gradually let it out, feeling every part of her relax. Finally. Mo was apparently good for that. His soft ears felt amazing between her fingers and she rubbed them gently, realizing that the act soothed her as much as it did him. She had a box of treats on a filing cabinet against the wall and reached to grab one. Mo—already no dummy—sat patiently at her feet waiting. As she turned to give it to him, she glanced up and out the door into the hall.
The offices of Junebug Farms each had an entrance from a single hallway off the lobby except for Jessica’s. Hers was down a different hall. Catherine’s office was situated at the very end of the main hallway of offices. When walking down the hall from the lobby, you’d pass David’s office on the left, Anna’s across from his on the right, then Donna Christenson’s office—she was the event coordinator at the shelter—and a supply room across from hers, and at the very end was Catherine’s office. So if you walked straight down the hallway without stopping, you’d end up standing in front of Catherine’s desk.
Which was exactly what Emily Breckenridge appeared about to do.
Catherine saw her coming, had an array of emotions run through her body like a small child hopped up on sugar—fear, excitement, worry, arousal, fear, arousal, fear, arousal—but was unable to move her feet. Or her hands. Or anything at all. All she could do was stand there, watch Emily’s approach, observe as Emily closed the office door behind her, her eyes never leaving Catherine’s, and wonder at the dark, heavy look of desire she wore as she crossed the room, took Catherine’s face in both hands, and kissed her on the mouth.
Hard.
There was nothing Catherine could do except kiss her back. Nothing at all. She had no choice.
Maybe she should have been angry. Insulted. Appalled. Furious.
She was none of those things.
What she was? Turned on. Completely, utterly, undoubtedly turned on. Her heart was racing. Her stomach tightened. Her underpants were wet (already?). God, Catherine didn’t know what the hell kind of power Emily had, but she had it in spades and Catherine couldn’t seem to break free of its spell no matter how hard she tried. Which wasn’t hard at all, really, because this was the best kiss she’d ever had. Even better than the last one…and that was one for the books. But this one? Surpassed it. By far. Emily’s lips were soft and warm and pliant and her tongue was both gentle and demanding and it gave Catherine a very R-rated preview of what could maybe come down the road, no pun intended. She tasted like strawberries—how was that possible? Strawberry season couldn’t be farther away than it was now in December, in upstate New York. Emily’s hands were tender but firm, holding onto Catherine’s face, making her feel safe, sexy, and wanted all at the same time, and all Catherine could do was hold on. And kiss back.
As if giving in, deciding not to analyze or resist what was happening here, Catherine gave as good as she got—and then some. The dog treat fell from her hand—she was vaguely aware of Mo crunching on it near her feet—and she slid both hands up Emily’s sides and around her back, up to her shoulders where she pulled her in tighter, pushed her mouth more firmly into Emily’s, and was rewarded with a soft moan. It was delicious and Catherine wanted to hear it again, so she thrust her tongue into Emily’s mouth, opened her own mouth wider to take more of her in. She felt Emily’s body shudder under her hands. That was accompanied by something that could only be classified as a growl and then Emily wrenched their mouths apart.
They stood there, in the middle of Catherine’s office, chests heaving, lips red and swollen, breathing ragged.
“Oh, my God,” Emily whispered as Catherine touched her own mouth with her fingers.
Catherine tried to speak, but no sound would come, so she just stood there, blinking.
“I have been wanting to do that all day,” Emily said softly, smiling, still only inches from Catherine. She held up a finger. “No. Wait. That’s a lie. I have wanted to do that since the last time I did that.”
Still unable to find her voice, Catherine just looked at her, took her in, the beauty, the softness, the smooth skin and silky hair and smiling eyes. Catherine was not a person who was overwhelmed easily, but in that moment, overwhelmed was exactly how she felt.
“Listen,” Emily said, still standing distractingly close, toying with the ends of Catherine’s hair, wrapping it around her fingers. “What are you doing this weekend? Are you working at Joplin’s?”
“Tomorrow night, yes.”
“What about during the day?”
Catherine mentally went through the schedule she’d made for herself. She was going to get up, take Mo for a walk, maybe play a little ball with him in the backyard, do the remainder of her online Christmas shopping (she was way behind), mop the kitchen floor. Nobody was more shocked than she was when the words left her mouth. “Nothing. Why?”
“I will pick you up at eleven then.”
“And take me where?” Catherine squinted at her.
“It’s a surprise. Dress warm. Okay?”
Catherine wasn’t spontaneous. She wasn’t a last-minute kind of girl. She didn’t like surprises; she liked schedules. Doing something unplanned was hard for her. But there was something in Emily’s eyes that she couldn’t discount. It would be irritating, making unexpected changes to her Saturday, but it could be done. She could shop later. She would still have time to get a good walk in with Mo. It wasn’t that hard to give Emily what she wanted. And the weird thing was that’s exactly what Catherine wanted to do: give Emily what she wanted. Anything and everything she wanted.
With a nod, she said simply, “Okay.”
Emily blinked at her, clearly surprised. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Wow. I had a whole other speech prepared. I was sure I’d need to do more convincing, but…this is awesome.” The way her face lit up was more than enough to tell Catherine she’d made the right decision, and before she could say anything further Emily was kissing her again. Softer, this time. Gently. Tenderly. But Catherine knew if she didn’t break it up soon, they’d end up in the same heated, breathless state they were in earlier and quite honestly, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it a second time. She pulled away, her entire body screaming in protest as she did so.
“You should probably go,” she said, her voice quiet, husky.
Emily nodded. “I probably should.” Yet she made no move, which brought a small grin to Catherine’s face.
She pushed gently at Emily’s chest and ordered, “Go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Emily whispered. She took a step back, but grasped Catherine’s chin in her hand and gave her one last kiss. “See you tomorrow,” she said as they parted.
And she was gone.
Catherine wasn’t sure how long she stood rooted in the same spot after Emily’s departure, but she was pretty sure if she tried to move her legs, she
’d collapse in a boneless heap onto the floor. That’s what Emily did to her: turned her to jelly. Liquified her insides. Scrambled all coherent, rational thought.
When she finally felt like maybe she could take a step, or two, she moved slowly back to her desk and literally dropped herself into her chair, the breath forced from her lungs as she landed. Mo took the opportunity to leave his bed—where he’d retreated after realizing he wasn’t getting another treat—and hop up into her lap, his warm body comforting her. She swiveled the chair slightly so she could gaze out the window at the gorgeous winter landscape. It really was beautiful, the fresh blanket of snow making everything seem clean. New. A blank slate.
Before she could wax poetic any further, a knock sounded on her doorjamb. She was about to mentally thank God for giving her something new to focus on until she saw that it was Anna who stood in the doorway looking at her with suspicion, and the gratitude died away.
“Hey,” Catherine said, hoping she hadn’t actually sighed the word (she was pretty sure she had). “What’s up?”
“Was that Emily Breckenridge?” Anna asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.
Catherine nodded. “It was.”
“Were you two having another brainstorming session about marketing? Without me?” There was a slight sneer in her voice, because of course there was.
“No, Anna. We were not brainstorming.” What we were doing was so much more fun that that.
Anna folded her arms across her small chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Then why was she in here?”
Catherine shrugged, feeling uncharacteristically flustered at the accusation in Anna’s tone. Or was it actually guilt she was feeling…? “She’s walking some dogs today. She stopped in to say hi.” Catherine looked back out the window, not enjoying the sensation of having not only to explain herself to her ex, but having to lie. When she turned back, Anna had narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing her as she leaned slightly forward. “What?” Catherine asked, annoyed now.
Run To You (Puppy Love Romance Book 2) Page 17
