by Roth, Ann
“Jesse,” she called out. “Time to go home now and warm up dinner.”
“Hear that?” she heard Mac say. “Dinner.” He sounded envious. “You’d best go.”
Due to the cramped space the two males entered the living room in single file, Jesse first, then Mac. Emmy drank in the sight of him. The man sure knew how to fill out jeans and a flannel workshirt. Oh, she had it bad. By the adoring look on Jesse’s face, he did, too.
Whatever would they do when he left town?
“Tom Rutherford just called,” she told Mac. “Melinda’s uncle is still sick, so they won’t be back for another two weeks.”
“Bummer.”
Mac looked at her and she knew he was thinking the same thing. That they were better off not seeing each other. There was a solution. She could unlock the door before he arrived and bolt it after he left, but Emmy knew she wouldn’t do that. She’d wait for Mac every morning and assume he’d hang around for her after work.
“Jesse and I were talking about the library,” Mac said, clapping her son’s shoulder. “One of my favorite places to hang out.”
While Jesse looked at the floor, Emmy mouthed a silent thank-you.
Mac nodded. “Did you get a chance to talk to Ian and Brian about their after-school program?”
“Not yet, but they’re coming to dinner tomorrow night to answer questions.” Emmy couldn’t leave Mac out, nor did she want to. “You’re welcome, too.”
“Better not.” His eyes flashed regret.
Jesse looked crestfallen. “Don’t you like us?”
“Sure I do, but I don’t want to get in the way or stifle the conversation. There’s no reason for me to come.”
His gaze stayed on her son, but Emmy knew he was speaking to her. Given their strong mutual attraction, staying away did seem best. Yet she wanted him at her dinner table. Just this once.
“You don’t need a reason,” Jesse said. “My mom’s a good cook. You’ll like her food. You have to eat with us. Right, Mom?”
Jesse gave her the big-eyed, pleading look she couldn’t resist. With her son and Mac’s brothers around she and Mac ought to be safe enough from temptation. “Please come,” Emmy said.
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Okay, I’ll be there. But I can’t stay long. I’ll leave right after dinner.”
Chapter Seven
“That was a great meal,” Ian said as he wiped his mouth on his napkin.
Brian patted his slightly rounded belly. “Much better than what we usually have.”
Mac nodded. “You weren’t kidding about your mom’s cooking, Jesse.” He glanced at Emmy. “Thanks.”
Crowded around the small square table built for four normal-size people, Jesse and the three brawny brothers had demolished the stew, two large loaves of garlic bread, a huge bowl of salad and the three-dozen chocolate-chip cookies that were supposed to last all week. Emmy didn’t mind. Having guests was fun. Especially the Struthers men, who kept up a lively, enjoyable conversation, in which Jess enthusiastically participated.
“You’re welcome.” Contented from the warm and friendly masculine attention she rarely got, and imagining that this was what a happy family felt like, Emmy smiled.
As she reached for the water pitcher to top up empty glasses, her elbow bumped Mac.
“Excuse me.” She jerked back, but not before awareness spread through her. Though she didn’t so much as glance at him, she sensed his sudden tension.
“That’s okay,” he said, wiping his mouth.
Thanks to the lack of space, this wasn’t the first time that some part of their bodies—thighs, arms, feet—had connected. Despite the layers of clothing they both wore, with every contact Emmy’s nerves hummed and thrilled with anticipation. Thank goodness no one at the table read minds, or she’d be totally embarrassed.
Mac accepted a refill, then pushed his chair back, creating much-needed room. He drained the glass like a man on fire.
Emmy began to stack plates, but Ian stopped her.
“You cooked. We’ll clean up. Relax and take it easy.”
With Mac sitting beside her? Ha! She shook her head. “You’re guests here. Besides, you already helped me so much. I really appreciate the input from the three of you about the after-school program. Your input, too, Jesse,” she added.
Input her son might never have given without the Struthers men’s encouragement. He actually seemed excited about the library, and Emmy was more than grateful. “Thanks to you all, the new program will be wonderful.”
“Once you get the thing up and running, let Ian and me know and we’ll stop in,” Brian said.
A terrific idea popped into her mind. “What if I have you come in and talk about construction?” The twins were so cute and personable and entertaining that boys and girls alike would enjoy listening to them.
“Uh, okay, sure,” Ian said. “We’ll bring tools the kids can try out.”
Jess grinned. “Cool.”
Brian glanced at Mac. “You’re a lot more experienced than we are. If Emmy schedules us while you’re still in town, you should join us.”
Mac’s younger brothers shared a quick glance, and Emmy wondered what he’d do if he knew they didn’t want to run his company.
“I can’t spare the time,” he said. “Right now, neither can you two. That talk will have to wait till we’ve done more at the Rutherfords’.”
“Sure,” Brian said.
“Come on, Jesse.” Ian beckoned the boy to stand. “The three of us will make short work of this dinner mess.”
Looking torn, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to join them, Jesse fidgeted in his seat. “I want to, but I have math homework. I couldn’t do it at the library because I don’t get it, and my mom doesn’t, either.”
“Math never has been a strength of mine,” Emmy admitted.
“It’s due tomorrow, and Mrs. Hatcher expects me to hand in all my work on time. Maybe I should study instead?”
Mac sat back, watching through slightly narrowed eyes, and Emmy knew he wondered what she’d do. Jesse was supposed to clear the table and load the dishwasher after dinner, but rarely did. Now was a good time to show both Mac and Jesse that she could be firm.
“You’ll have time for your math after you help Ian and Brian,” she said decisively. Mac’s approving nod pleased her.
Jesse looked this side of stunned and not quite ready to accept that she meant business. “But this stuff is really hard,” he grumbled. “It’ll take me hours to figure it out.”
“You still have to do your chores,” Mac said. “Like Ian said, with the three of you working together, cleanup won’t take long.”
“If I have to,” Jess grumbled. He glared at Emmy. “But if I get in trouble for not finishing the problems, it’s your fault.”
Emmy wavered, but before she could speak, Brian did.
“Here’s an idea,” he said as he stacked plates. “Let Mac help with your homework. He always gave us a hand. He’s a math whiz.”
Eagerness lit Jesse’s face. “You are?”
Mac looked wary, as if he realized that Jesse was getting too close and didn’t know what to do about it.
“Mac can’t stay late. Remember?” Emmy was giving the man a valid out. “He’s been working all day, and I’m sure he’s tired and ready to go home.”
Jesse glanced at the silverware he was collecting and gave a listless nod that hurt to see. “That’s okay, Mac.” Clutching the cutlery in his fists, he turned toward the sink.
No one said a word. Did Ian and Brian think Mac should stay? What was Mac thinking? With all their faces carefully blank, Emmy had no clue. Fighting the need to fold Jesse in a comforting hug, she laced her fingers together in her lap.
Someone turned on the faucet. Water swished through the silence.
Lips compressed, Mac glanced at the ceiling. He blew out a breath. “Okay, Jesse,” he said over the running tap. “You clean up, then I’ll get you started. I’ll stay another half hour, but
after that, I’m gone.”
SITTING AT the kitchen table while Jesse labored over a long-division problem, Mac munched a fresh-baked cookie and skimmed through the weekly Halo Island News Emmy had handed him. The newly painted kitchen, now a warm peach color, felt cheerful and homey. Especially with her in it. Wearing a checkered, food-spattered bib apron, she stood at the counter with her back to him and Jesse, mixing up cookie batter. Since Mac and his brothers had cleaned her out of chocolate chips, these were oatmeal raisin. The house smelled better than a bakery at dawn. How she found the energy after working all day, then serving a great meal, mystified him.
Even more amazing was her silence. After Ian and Brian had left, she explained that she didn’t want to interrupt her son’s homework time with conversation. Which was a good idea, but most women would’ve jabbered away regardless. Not Emmy. The quiet was working well for Jesse, too. Deep in concentration, the boy seemed unaware of his mother’s presence.
Whereas Mac was tuned in to her every move. The way she brushed the hair out of her eyes with her upper arm. How she dried her hands on the apron after washing them. That she cleaned up her mess as she went along, occasionally snitching raw dough and making soft sounds of pleasure when she popped it into her mouth.
At the moment she was carefully placing rounded spoonfuls of dough on a cookie sheet. The apron tie at her back was working loose, the ribbons trailing down her sweet behind. Mac pictured her in nothing but the apron. He imagined knotting those ties for her, then cupping her round cheeks. Better yet, pulling the bow apart and tugging that apron off…
His body tightened. What else was new? Fantasizing this much and this often was seriously killing him. He needed to forget Emmy, to leave right now. He glanced at the clock. Hell, he’d been here forty-five minutes, fifteen minutes longer than he’d planned.
Jesse muttered and scrubbed a worn eraser over his paper. He glanced at Mac with a confused look, and Mac knew he’d stay as long as the kid needed him.
When he should be running for his life.
“Need help?” he asked.
The boy nodded. “This answer looks wrong, but I can’t figure out why.”
Mac looked over the problem. As he explained what to do, the timer buzzed. Unable to stop himself, he watched Emmy slip her hands into oven mitts and pull a sheet of baked cookies from the oven. Which gave him yet another great view of her rear. He turned back to Jesse to find the kid studying him with a curious expression. The boy glanced at his mother, then at Mac again. A sly grin bloomed on his face.
As if he thought there was something between Mac and his mom. There was, but it wasn’t going anyplace. Mac changed his mind about sticking around.
“You can take it from here on your own,” he said, pushing his chair back.
In the process of moving the cookies onto the cooling rack, Emmy glanced up. Her face was flushed from the oven heat, and once again her hair swung loose from behind her ear. “It’s almost Jesse’s bedtime, anyway.” She looked at her son. “Are you about through?”
“Just about.” Still bent over the paper, Jesse continued to work. Moments later he laid down his pencil. “Now I’m done.”
“You picked that up fast,” Mac said, giving the boy a nod of approval. “You’re a smart kid with a good head for math.”
Looking as if he’d won a trophy, Jesse beamed. Emmy smiled, too, a pure, happy expression that went straight into Mac’s chest. A ray of warmth that coaxed out his own grin.
For one long moment Mac held her gaze, then she jerked her attention to Jesse, who by his knowing look hadn’t missed a thing.
“Time for your shower,” Emmy said.
“And time for me to go,” Mac said. “Thanks again for feeding me tonight.” He stood and brought the empty cookie plate to Emmy. “And for the cookies.”
“Dinner was the least I could do. What do you say to Mac, Jesse?”
“Thanks for helping me with my math.” The boy jumped up. “You don’t have to leave yet, Mac. My mom goes to bed pretty late.”
Bed and Emmy. A dangerous combination. For his own good, Mac definitely needed out of here. “But I don’t,” he said. “In fact, I’m about ready to turn in.”
“But it’s only eight-forty-five.” Jesse looked incredulous.
“Hey, I’m up at five every morning, and I work hard all day. I like a good night’s sleep.”
Unless he happened to share his bed with a willing woman. Which he hadn’t in months. Too busy and too focused on enrolling in school and his trip. Even so he was primed and more than ready for a night of passion with Emmy. He quickly nixed the thought. Not with this woman, not in this house.
Jesse disappeared. Emmy slipped out of her apron. “I’m so grateful for what you did for Jesse tonight,” she said as she walked Mac to the door. “Your brothers were right—you’re great with kids.”
Suddenly hip-hop music blared, filling the house. The shower started.
“He turns it up so he can hear over the water,” Emmy said, shaking her head.
“Like I said, I didn’t mind helping him. But, Emmy, I think he’s getting too attached.”
“You noticed that, too.” Worry wrinkled the space between her eyebrows. “I’m not sure what to do.” Hand on the doorknob, she paused. “Do you have any ideas?”
“I’ll do my best to steer clear of him.” Though so far that hadn’t worked.
“And I’ll try to keep him away from you and your brothers. Now that he’s coming to the library every afternoon, he won’t see much of you. That’ll help. I hope.”
Mac hated the concern darkening her face. “I’ll also talk to him and make sure he understands that I won’t be sticking around.”
“Thanks. You really are wonderful.” Emmy opened the front door.
Any fool could see that she was as bad off as her son, liking Mac more than she should. This was not good. Mac counted himself lucky that he didn’t share those same feelings for her.
Right, and the outside temperature was ninety degrees.
As the damp, cold sea air rushed in, he brushed her hair back. “Thanks again for this evening.”
Intending a quick good-night, he brushed his lips lightly over hers. But she leaned in and looped her arms around his neck. And he was exactly where he’d wanted to be since the last time he’d kissed her. Holding her close.
This was wrong. And dangerous. But Mac could no longer fight himself. With a groan, he gave in.
HERE SHE WAS, kissing Mac again. Emmy sighed. At last. She shouldn’t, but his arms felt so good around her. His tongue teased hers, darting in and out. He tasted of oatmeal cookie and man and need, and she eagerly returned his kisses.
Warm hands clasped her hips, anchoring her tightly against his hard body. He was aroused, proof that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. That they were both lost. She wriggled closer.
An approving sound rumbled from Mac’s chest, and his avid kisses turned scorching. Emmy’s muscles loosened. Her bones softened and seemed to melt. If not for Mac holding her up, she’d surely have sunk to the floor.
Sometime later—or mere seconds, she had no idea—he slid his palms up her sides. It had been so long. Craving his hands on her breasts, attuned to his every move, Emmy leaned back a fraction, silently begging him. Finally he cupped her breasts.
Pleasure pulsed through her. Nipples stiffening, she moaned into his mouth. She let go of his shoulders to guide his hands under her sweater. He palmed her through her bra, then slipped his fingers inside the cups, teasing her sensitive tips.
Dear God. Desire flared in every inch of her body. Arching back, she thrust her breasts more deeply into his hands. “My bra unhooks in the back,” she urged.
An instant later she felt it loosen and open. Mac pushed the cotton up, scraping her swollen nipples.
“I want you,” he gasped, his breath hot against her ear.
“Mmm, me, too.”
His soft lips nibbled her neck while his fingers gently plucked
her nipples. It felt so good. Moisture pooled between her legs. Fevered and craving contact right there, she hooked her leg around Mac’s thigh, bringing the most aching part of her flush against his rigid arousal. Even though they were both fully dressed, she was so stimulated she was on the verge of climaxing. If Mac didn’t make love with her right now…
“Please,” she whispered.
Growling, he ground his hips. “Don’t tempt me.”
Somehow through her haze of need she heard the shower shut off. Mac must’ve noticed it, too, for they pulled away from each other at the same time.
Reaching behind her, he deftly fastened her bra like a man with plenty of experience. Then he tugged her sweater over her hips.
“Good night, Emmy.” He touched her cheek briefly, turned away and moved purposefully toward his van.
In a daze she leaned against the doorjamb. Only after he glanced at her before sliding into the driver’s seat did she realize she was standing in the open doorway. With the furnace on full blast, heating the great outdoors. An expense she certainly didn’t need.
Not that she was cold after what had just happened. Her pulse chaotic, she closed the door, leaned dreamily against it and hugged herself.
Abruptly the hip-hop music stopped. Seconds later, as Jesse padded noisily toward the living room, Emmy hastily checked her hair.
Wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a Bone Thugs-n-Harmony T-shirt, Emmy’s son stopped in the hallway. “Is Mac gone?”
Not trusting herself to speak just yet, she nodded.
“Mom? Are you okay? Your cheeks are red and your lips look funny.”
“I ate a cookie that was too hot and burned myself,” she shamelessly lied.
About the cookie, not the burned lips. Mac’s passionate kisses had seared her mouth.
“Tonight was really cool. Can we invite Mac and his brothers over for dinner again?”
