by Marie Harte
She nodded.
“And your exes obviously didn’t work out. There haven’t been that many though, have there?”
She wasn’t the type to bounce around from man to man. Emma had too much independence for that, for all that she was naturally submissive. “No. Not really. My last boyfriend and I broke up ten months ago. He was bossy in bed and bossy out of it. That’s a problem for me.” She sighed. “A recurring one, I think.”
He understood. “You want a dominant partner in bed, and an equal the rest of the time. Right?”
She nodded. “What about you, Trevor? What do you want?”
Chapter Nine
He debated how much to tell her, but in the spirit of sharing, he opened himself and hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. “I loved Dana. She was my partner, my lover, the woman I’d planned to marry. Two years ago she died.”
“Oh, Trevor. I’m sorry.” Emma stroked his chest, and her compassion eased him.
“I told you I worked for the government. Dana did too. She was a hard-ass,” he remembered with fondness. “She about kicked my tail the first time we met. She was an expert at extractions and information gathering. Could shoot damn well better than I could. But she was a hothead.”
“Not submissive?”
“In bed, when I’d wrestle it out of her. I had to work to earn her trust, and I did. Then she’d give me what I needed.” But had it been what she needed, he’d asked himself time and time again. “She wasn’t naturally giving. I loved her, but I knew her. I accepted her, flaws and all. Then she died, and what we might have had was gone.”
Emma hugged him, and he had to work to convince himself that the water streaming down his cheeks came from the shower.
“Sometimes I miss her like crazy. She died around this time of year. It still hurts, but it shouldn’t.”
“Sure it should. I didn’t like my dad much. I loved him, but he was selfish. Putting his needs first. Ignoring Ruth because he hated her mother. Never giving my mother what she really needed because financially he was tied to a rich wife and didn’t want to lose his money.” She sounded sad, not bitter. “I loved him anyway. Just like I loved my mom and my aunt. People we love die.”
“And they leave us, sometimes.” He stroked her hair, feeling so settled with her. So centered.
“Yes, they leave us. But I’m learning that we have to take a chance. Because sometimes they stay.” She looked into his eyes, her trust so pure that he fell headlong in love with her without meaning to. It made no rhyme or reason, but he knew she was his.
Trevor kissed her, trying to show her how much she meant to him. She kissed him back, and their tender exploration turned into something more. Sighs and caresses. Kisses and touches. They came together softly, their bliss shared and treasured. And he went to bed feeling better about life than he had in ages.
The next morning, he knew he had to tell her. As they sat eating pastries she’d made just for him, he hated having to spoil their closeness. Since the shower, he felt like she’d become a part of him. And by the shy, glowing expression she wore, she felt the same.
“There’s something you need to know.”
“Yes?” She sat and licked frosting off her finger.
As usual, he hardened thinking about her soft mouth and what it could do wrapped around his cock. He cleared his throat, and she gave him a naughty grin. Playful, shy, gleeful, mean. He loved the many facets of her. “Yeah, well, you got another present last night. In your bakery.”
Her smile faded. “I did?”
“I’m waiting on the lab to get me prints I can use, I hope.” Now came the delicate part. “Honey, there were two cameras in your shop.”
“What?”
“Small fiber optics, stuff you’d never think to look for if you didn’t know they were there.”
“But…” She turned white. “But we—”
“I know. Trust me, I know. It’s over, and what we shared was perfect. Don’t let this make you feel bad.” But how could it not?
“Trevor, he watched us.” A tear spilled down her cheek.
He hurried from his seat and pulled her into his arms. “Hush. Don’t cry, kitten. It’s okay.”
She sobbed against him before finally easing back. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just be okay with me breaking this asshole’s neck.”
She hiccupped on a laugh, and he knew she’d be all right. “So what was in the box?”
“Something furry and dead. Forget about it.” Let her think it was a rat and not a cute, helpless kitten. He felt sick still thinking about what he’d seen.
“Oh.” She swallowed. “You know, I wonder.” She frowned. “John talked about a security system in the bakery for a while. Maybe he came in and set everything up without me knowing? Not as a secret admirer or anything, though. I just… Heck. I can’t make myself think it’s him. He’s been so nice. He has a crush but—”
“Wait. A crush?”
She told him about the vibe he’d given her a week ago.
“Well, hell. Why didn’t you say this before?”
He frowned. His phone rang. He answered and felt righteous anger fill him. “Gotcha. Thanks.” He hung up.
“Well?”
“Seems your friend John has been busy. I’m heading over to ask him a few questions. You’re going to stay with Maggie.”
Emma sat with Maggie, Shelby, Mac and Shane while they drank more coffee and waited on Trevor.
“I just can’t believe John would do something like that.”
“Asshole is going to pay. Trevor will see to that.” Mac sounded pleased.
“Yeah. Anyone who would stoop to spying on you and leaving you weird gifts needs mental help.” Shane shook his head. “It’s good you’re out of it, Emma. Let Trevor and the cops handle him.”
“Trevor didn’t mention the police.” She worried about that.
Maggie sighed. “Because big brother won’t. He’ll do everything his way. What a pain.” She gave Emma a smile. “But don’t worry. He’s smart and sneaky. If he breaks the guy’s fingers, no one will be able to pin it on him.”
Everyone just stared at her.
“What? I know my brother. He gets the job done.”
Mac started laughing and hugged her tight. “You’re so bloodthirsty. No wonder we get along.”
Maggie fingered the beautiful choker she wore and patted Mac’s cheek before kissing him.
Shelby and Shane gagged. “Gah. Get a room, you two. It’s sickening.” This from Shane.
Shelby frowned. “You could learn a thing or two from Mac.”
“Are you kidding me?” Shane gaped.
“Well, he got Maggie beautiful earrings and that gorgeous necklace. I’m still waiting for mine.” Yet she playfully tapped her fingers against her cheek, where a huge diamond ring winked back at her.
Shane snorted. “Yeah, right. Don’t let her fool you, Emma. I tried getting Shelby jewelry. Guess where it sits? In her jewelry box.”
“But those were earrings. I want a necklace,” she teased.
“How about a collar and leash?” Shane mumbled, and Mac and Maggie laughed uproariously.
Emma liked the open friendship, pleased to be included. She genuinely liked Shelby and Maggie, and their fiancés were terrific guys. Almost as great as Trevor.
She still didn’t know where they stood, but she did feel she could trust him to be honest with her. He’d told her about his work for the government and about Dana. She’d felt his pain and wanted with all her heart to help him heal. The way he looked at her and touched her told her he felt more than just attraction. But lust, like and love were three very different things.
“You know Mimi and Ron came by my shop to help me with Trevor. Almost as if they were playing matchmaker.” She had a feeling Maggie had been behind the attempt, more so when Maggie and Mimi showed up together the other day.
Mac raised a brow at his intended that Maggie ignored. “Well,” she said, “I might h
ave asked for their help. You don’t understand, Emma. They have a gift.”
Shelby sighed. “At making life impossible. You cannot go unnoticed walking next to a giant, garishly dressed woman with fifty million bangles jangling on her wrist.”
Shane grinned. “Yeah, but she’s been a lot quieter since shacking up with Mac’s uncle.”
Mac groaned. “Don’t remind me. I can’t have them spend the night anymore. They make too much damn noise.”
Emma chuckled and the others laughed.
After a few hours spent hanging out playing cards and watching the latest history special on World War II that she and the guys found fascinating but the girls kept complaining about, Trevor arrived.
He walked in and went straight to her. After a hug and one hell of a kiss, he dropped an arm around her shoulders and held her tight. Maggie and Shelby wore matching grins, while the guys bugged Trevor to give them the good news.
“Well, John’s guilty of setting up the cameras for sure. But he says he did it for a friend.”
Emma shook her head. “A friend? Really?”
“I’m not buying it either, but something’s off. A friend of Evan’s—my boss—works for the Seattle PD. So John will be officially taken in for questioning soon, along with the presents he left. Though we can’t prove he left the gifts, the cameras are illegal. You can’t record a person in the state of Washington if both parties aren’t consenting. And John was in no way part of the conversation.” Trevor looked at her. “The footage is still missing. John insists he didn’t film anything, just set up the cameras for that friend.”
Emma felt ill thinking about what was on that recording device.
Trevor squeezed her, not seeming concerned. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him. My buddy Josh is doing a search right now of his place.”
“Josh, hmm?” Shane asked. “Not a cop is he?”
“Never said it was an authorized search.” Trevor shrugged. “Hey, the recording belongs to Emma. No one else.”
Shelby grabbed Emma’s hand and squeezed before letting go. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with this.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound as if it’s over yet. He needs to confess,” Maggie said.
“He will.” Trevor sounded a little too sure. Emma scooted out of his hold and noticed bruises on his knuckles.
“Trevor, what did you do?”
Everyone looked at the hand she now held in hers.
“Nothing.” He tried to tug it free. She wouldn’t let him.
Mac slapped him on the back. “Good man. You need any help with the police, let me know. I have a few friends.”
“Not many. A few,” Maggie teased.
The mood lightened, Trevor kissed Emma again, and the three couples went their separate ways. In the car, she asked him more questions, but Trevor was vague. He drove them back to his office building.
“Trevor?”
“Hear me out on this, sweetheart. I’ve got an idea. We’re not getting closer to John, not without me breaking his face, that is. He seemed friendly with you, and I’m wondering if it might not be a good idea to talk to him. There’s something that doesn’t add up. The more I think about it, the more I think he’s not our guy.”
“Really?” That was good. She didn’t want to think of John being so creepy.
“Yeah.” He sighed and parked, then pulled her close. “I don’t want you in danger, but with me and the team there while you talk to John, you’ll be okay. I’ll be right there in the room with you. But it’s up to you. I sure won’t force you to talk to him.”
“No, I want to.” She pulled away from him and squared her shoulders. “I want this over with.”
“Me too.” He caressed her cheek. “That way we can finally go back to my place. I love your house, honey, but your bed is too small.”
She blushed and laughed with him as they left the car and headed up to his office. They reached the room where John had been stashed for interrogation, and she shored up her nerve. “How are you holding him here? It’s not legal, is it?”
“Well, since John isn’t keen on talking to the police, he seemed fine to hang out with us.”
“Oh?”
Trevor smiled through his teeth as they looked through the one-way glass into the holding room. Inside, Ritter stood in the corner with his arms crossed. No going around him, for sure.
“You ready, honey?”
She drew in a deep breath for courage, then let it out. “Yes. You’re coming in with me?”
“You bet your sexy ass I am.”
She smiled, felt her affection growing dangerously toward love, and followed him inside.
John sat up straighter and ran his fingers through his unruly hair when he spotted her. He gave Trevor a cautious look, and she noticed John had a fat lip and a bruise on his cheekbone. Ritter remained in the room, and Trevor sidled to stand next to him. If she had to bet, she’d peg Trevor as the cause of John’s bruises.
She wished it didn’t please her so much that Trevor was more than willing to beat people up for her. But little savage that she apparently was, she liked having a strong…boyfriend. Boyfriend. Is that what he was? She liked the idea and mulled it over in the back of her mind while she concentrated on the current mess at hand.
She sat down across from John at the table and studied him. Ragged jeans, a threadbare tee-shirt, busted face, scared eyes. Hmm…
“Oh my God. Emma. I’m so glad to see you.” John felt free to glare at the giants holding up the wall.
“Hi, John. Do you know why you’re here?”
“These cavemen think I had something to do with planting cameras in your shop.”
Ritter stirred and in a deep, scary voice said, “We have your fingerprints on them, asshole. You want to explain that to the cops, let’s go talk to them.”
John paled and said to Emma, “It’s all a big mistake.”
“Trevor told me you were helping out a friend. Who was it, John?”
“You don’t understand.” He licked his lips and grimaced. “Ow. Look, I used to talk to your aunt about putting in cameras all the time. But she was against them. I was afraid for you. I wanted you safe.”
“So you spied on me?” She felt hurt. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are! I didn’t spy on you. I put the cameras in for…a friend who’s also concerned.” He groaned and put his head in his hands. “He’ll kill me if I tell. I owed him money, and since he’s a nice guy and just wanted to make sure you were safe, I didn’t see the harm. Hell, I have cameras in my store. I mean, it’s not like I bugged the bathroom or your bedroom or anything. It’s the freakin’ bakery! You cook there.”
And do other things. Oh boy. She fought a blush. “That’s not the point. You invaded my privacy. You made me feel unsafe.” Tears came to her eyes, and she used them, hoping to make John feel bad. “I thought we were friends,” she said again.
“I did too. Then you started dating him,” John spat and nodded to Trevor. “How could you? He’s a total tool. He’s not smart enough to appreciate you. We share a love of books, remember?”
A glance at Trevor showed him expressionless, but Ritter wore a grin.“He’s got a point, man. You are a tool,” he said to Trevor.
Trevor said nothing, but she saw his jaw tighten.
Bordering on hysterical laughter, because though amusing, Ritter’s presence told her this situation was anything but normal, Emma firmed her voice. “John, I want to know who it is. You don’t understand. This person has been leaving me…presents. Weird presents, like, panties and handcuffs weird. All anonymous, but it’s scared the heck out of me.”
“What? But Garrett said he was helping Scott keep an eye on you.”
“Wait.” Trevor interrupted. “So it’s Garrett? Or is it Scott?”
“Well, I’m not sure.” John seemed confused. “I put the cameras in because I owed Garrett money. But then he said he owed Scott a favor, which I’d never understood. I hadn’t realized Garrett and Scott
were friends, although…”
“Although what?” Trevor growled.
John seemed to shrink into his chair. “I saw them exchanging money for drugs, I think. More than once.”
“Drugs?” Emma felt faint. Bad enough her sister had been dating a jerk. But a drug dealer? God, what had Ruth done? Had she been selling too?
“Okay, that’s enough. Ritter, you got this?” Trevor asked, and Ritter nodded. “Great. I’m taking Emma home.”
They drove back in silence, with Trevor’s hand clutching hers, until Emma couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my God. My sister and Scott are doing drugs. Dealing drugs.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“What do we know?” She tugged her hand free and curled her hair around a finger. Thinking, reasoning, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so crazy.
“We know John set up the cameras for Garrett. Garrett might be the one sending you those gifts. Or it could be Scott, who we know is a piece of shit. He and Garrett are connected through drugs, apparently. But that doesn’t tell us how much of this Ruth knows or is in to.”
“She hates me,” Emma said softly, wishing it weren’t so. “She’s always been jealous that my dad loved me better. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t want him to be with us so much. I mean, I did, but I wanted him to stay and he never would. He always went home to his real family, to Ruth and her mother and their lavish lifestyle.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Me too.” She took his hand again and kissed it. “When my mom died, he kept coming around. Ruth and I knew each other. We’d met a few times years ago, but only in passing. We were sisters but not, little toys my father could give affection to whenever he felt like it.” The bitterness she used to feel had faded a long time ago. “I used to hate him even as I loved him. But I forgave him when my mom died. She told me he was a weak man, that it wouldn’t do me any good to be so angry all the time. And you know, she was right.”
