by Nikki Chase
“I don’t know. There’s a lot more people and it’s more . . . chaotic, I guess. But also more exciting. There are pros and cons .”
“I hope I’m on the list of pros, then,” I say, giving her a smile .
Emma smiles and glances away shyly. As she walks into the house and passes by me, the sweet scent of vanilla floats in the air and fills my lungs with the smallest hint of her .
I want more. More of her smell. More of that electricity that passed between us. More of that smooth skin. Maybe even those full lips .
“So, how did you come across the job ad?” I close the door and lead her down the hallway. I wink at her. “Did you search for people who used to go to Rockvale High ?”
Emma giggles softly. “It was a complete coincidence. I recognized your name and wondered if maybe you were the Fraser Archer from school .”
“Glad you found me.” Despite what I said in the email, I don’t actually remember Emma from school. I wonder how we knew each other . . . Eh, I’ll just make a random guess. “We had . . . English class together, right ?”
“Um . . . No,” Emma answers, just as I expected. “We weren’t . . . We didn’t have any classes together. We weren’t even in the same grade. I just . . . I just liked watching you play .”
“I never saw you watching? I can’t believe I didn’t notice you in the crowd. You must’ve been one cute schoolgirl.” I twist just in time to see her cheeks fill with color. So fucking cute . I smile to myself .
“Actually, we did talk . . . one time. I was returning your jacket I found on the bleachers,” she says softly .
“Oh, I remember that,” I say .
I’d almost forgotten about my lost jacket when a shy, stick-thin girl gave it back to me at the cafeteria. She looked so awkward and tortured talking to me that I just wanted to end her suffering by keeping the conversation brief .
Emma’s that girl ? Wow, she’s changed a lot .
I mean, looks like she’s still shy, but it doesn’t seem like she’s in pain just from chatting with me. And she definitely didn’t have those tempting curves back then .
I open the door to the guest room and turn to look at Emma. “This is yours .”
Eyeing the bed, I wonder if I can get her to invite me into it with her .
There are only two places in this room where we can sit: the bed and the chair in the corner .
Okay. I know what to do .
Emma
“T hank you.” I enter the bedroom as Fraser places my worn duffel bag on a leather club chair. He removes his jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair, too .
It’s a nice room—not too big like the guest bedroom at Piper’s, and not too small like my old office. There’s a queen-sized bed, a nightstand, and the chair in one corner of the room. This is just right .
Do I sound like Goldilocks ?
I stand between the door and the bed, and turn to look at Fraser. He’s being such a gentleman, carrying my bag and holding doors open for me .
I kind of wish he’d stop being one, now that we’re alone in a bedroom .
“Do you really remember when I gave you back your jacket?” I ask .
“Yeah,” he says matter-of-factly. With his long legs, he steps toward the bed and sits down. Smoothing the bedsheets with his palm, he says, “The sheets have been changed today, but nobody’s slept in this bed for a long time. Hopefully, the mattress hasn’t sagged or anything .”
“Oh, you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m really grateful to have a place to live. Not having to pay rent is going to be a big help for me,” I say .
“Take a seat here and see if the mattress is still any good,” Fraser says, patting the space next to him. His smile is friendly, but the glint in his eyes is anything but .
My heart races as a thrill runs down my spine, but I swallow my anxiety .
This is what I came here to the city for. I wanted excitement. I wanted to meet men who aren’t Ted. I wanted to experience everything life has to offer for myself .
“Sure,” I say, giving Fraser a brave smile, as if I do this all the time. In reality, it’s been years since I last shared a bed with a man .
As I plant my butt on the bed, I realize the mattress is dipping under Fraser’s weight, making me slide closer to him .
“How is it?” Fraser levels his gaze at me and stares into my eyes, mischief dancing in his blue eyes .
“It’s . . . nice.” I can feel my heartbeat in my throat, choking out my voice. I clear my throat, hoping Fraser doesn’t notice my nervousness .
“Good.” All of a sudden, Fraser plops his body down on the bed. Interlacing his hands behind his head and smirking at me, he says, “It’s nicer if you lie down .”
“Uh . . . Yeah . . . Um . . . Okay,” I stammer. I lower myself down until I’m lying beside Fraser, so close I can almost feel the heat emanating from his hard, sculpted body .
“How is it?” Fraser asks, turning to lie on his side. He’s staring at me so intently I feel like there’s no place to hide. At the same time, a part of me wants to be seen by him .
“It’s nice,” I say, somehow managing a smile through my fog of apprehension as I turn my head to look at him .
“So, tell me about yourself, Emma.” Fraser says my name with his deep baritone, injecting a shot of adrenaline into my bloodstream .
Fight? Flight? My brain knows there’s no cause for concern so I make myself stay put, but my heart hammers so hard I worry Fraser could feel the tremors .
“What’s there to tell?” I ask, laughing nervously .
“I don’t know. It’s just something people ask at interviews.” Fraser shrugs and laughs with ease. “But I’ve already hired you, so you don’t have to answer that. Have you stayed at Rockvale the whole time after high school ?”
“No, I actually left for college, but I went back after .”
“Oh, let me guess. You went to college here in San Francisco?” he asks .
“Yeah. Just like the rest of the town. Not very original, I know .”
“Eh, originality is overrated.” Fraser laughs like I’ve said something amusing. “You went back after college, though. That was pretty original .”
“Yeah. I wanted to be with my mom.” I wonder how much of my life story to tell him, but it’s probably best to keep things light for now. Fraser’s my employer, after all, even if he’s being friendly now .
“Is your mom living on her own ?”
“She has a . . . boyfriend, I guess.” I secretly congratulate myself for not calling Ted any dirty names .
“Ah. So, you waited until she wasn’t alone before you left the town again,” he says as his lips widen into a smile .
“Something like that.” I return his smile
“You’re a good daughter. Your mom’s lucky to have you,” he says .
To my surprise, a lump forms in my throat .
Not at all. I’m not a good daughter. I left my mom alone with a bad man. I’m supposed to be there for her .
I blink down the tears that have started to prick my eyes. “Nah, I’m lucky to have her .”
Fraser reaches out and touches the hair that’s fallen over my face, tucking it behind my ear. “You’re a good girl, Emma .”
My heart flips yet again at the mention of my name. What do I say to that? Is that even a compliment ?
I give Fraser a smile. “Uh . . . thank you ?”
Fraser bursts out laughing. “You’re funny .”
“I am ?”
“You are, to me,” he says, his pupils dilating, even as sun rays stream into the room through the window behind him .
My heart pounds as Fraser inches closer. His hand remains on my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. I’m so tense I feel like I’m about to explode .
“Your lips . . . They’re beautiful,” Fraser says as he stares at me. He bites his lip like he’s holding himself back .
“Thanks,” I say. I’m sure this time it’s a compliment, but
now I have a hundred more questions in my head .
Should I close my eyes? Would that be presumptuous now? Is he about to kiss me? This is definitely not something a boss does with his employer, right ?
Fraser removes all my doubts as he leans his forehead against mine and touches his lips lightly against mine. They’re so hot. So smooth. So firm .
This is better than any of my high school fantasies. This is a kiss unlike any other I’ve ever had .
Fraser’s tongue traces my lips. His teeth nibble on my bottom lip. I open my mouth, letting him know I want this, too, and he sweeps in, overwhelming my senses with no hesitation. No second thought .
Fraser puts one hand on the back of my skull, grabbing my hair, while his other hand wraps around my waist and pulls me against his broad, hard chest. He ravishes me with his kiss, waking up every cell in my body that laid dormant for years .
When Fraser pulls back, my hands are holding tightly onto his muscular triceps .
“Your lips taste real sweet, Emma,” he says, his voice hoarse .
I try to catch my breath, but the heat building up inside won’t let me. And neither will Fraser .
He forcefully crushes his lips against mine. I part my lips, though I barely kiss him back; my mind is still struggling to make sense of what’s happening .
But, Fraser’s not waiting. His fingers grip my top thigh and yank my leg until it’s draped over his waist. He thrusts himself against me, grinds himself against me, letting me feel his hot, hard length .
Despite my confusion, I moan into his mouth. Taking it as encouragement, he kisses me harder, messier, hotter .
Just when I can’t take any more, my phone rings .
I place my palm on Fraser’s chest and push against him. “I’m sorry. I have to take that .”
Sandy
“M om? Is everything okay?” I hear Emma’s voice from down the hallway .
I don’t want to eavesdrop, but on the way into the kitchen to grab some juice from the fridge, I catch bits and pieces of Emma’s phone conversation .
“Are you sure? I can come home if you need me. Any time,” she says .
I try to focus on pouring the juice from the carton into a tall, clear glass, but there’s only so much attention I can pay to condensation forming on the outside of the glass. In any case, I can’t plug my ears by sheer force of will .
“That’s great. I can come home tomorrow if you—” Emma pauses like she’s being cut off. “Okay, I won’t. How about this weekend, though ?”
I take a sip of the refreshing drink .
“Yeah, no, I know you’re okay. I just want to . . . I just miss you,” Emma says .
I wonder if anything’s wrong with Emma’s mom. This sounds like a strange conversation .
“Okay. I love you.” Emma hesitates before she adds, “Um . . . Mom, take care, okay? I . . . I love you. Okay. Bye .”
With her eyes scarily blank, Emma ambles into the living room and drops herself onto a couch while sighing. She glances at her phone, then sighs one more time before placing it on her lap .
“Hey, is everything okay?” I don’t want to butt in where I’m not wanted, but she’s right there, and I can’t just stand still when Emma looks like she’s going through some kind of a personal hell .
Emma jolts with surprise, obviously not expecting anyone to be here. She forces a smile when she sees me. “Yeah .”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to listen in on your phone call, but, well . . . I was here, and you were there . . . I couldn’t help but hear some of it.” Lifting my glass up, I ask, “Apple juice ?”
“Sure,” she says. “Why not ?”
“One could argue that it contains sugar, which is so bad for you some scientists are trying to make it a controlled substance.” I pour another glass and give it to Emma before I take a seat next to her on the same couch. “But, it’s probably not any worse than alcohol .”
“Thanks for making me feel better about my life decisions,” she says with a wry chuckle .
“Glad you could see the humor in it, at least,” I say with a grin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be morbid or negative. Just tell me if I’m being inappropriate. I’m told my little fun facts are often not fun at all .”
“Nah, I enjoy your fun facts.” Emma clinks her glass softly against mine .
“Glad to hear that .”
Emma sighs. She turns to stare at me and says, “I was lying .”
I raise an eyebrow. “On your resumé? Don’t worry about it. Everybody does that .”
She laughs weakly. “I lied about everything being okay. It’s not .”
“Sorry,” I say. “Does the juice help? Sugar’s supposed to raise your mood, even if it’s bad for your health .”
Emma eyes the glass of clear, golden liquid. “Eh. Maybe it takes some time to kick in .”
“Want to talk about it?” I ask. “It’s okay if you just want to sit here in silence .”
“Thank you,” Emma says, her blue eyes sorrowful but also full of appreciation. “It’s my mom. I worry about her .”
“Is she . . . finding it hard to adjust to you not being around?” I ask .
“Something like that .”
“My parents . . . Has anyone told you they’re living in an RV, now that they’re retired?” I ask .
Emma shakes her head. “Tell me about them .”
“They’ve always loved to travel, but having us in their lives meant they had to put that on hold. They moved around a lot, though. We moved around a lot. They tried to limit the frequency, especially when we were in school because nothing’s harder than being the new kid. So, as soon as we were all adults, they took off .”
“Sounds like they’re having fun,” Emma says with a weak smile .
“Yeah. And even then, the first few weeks they were constantly calling us,” I say. “Separation can be hard, even if you know it’s for the best .”
Emma falls silent. When she turns to look at me, her eyes have widened in fear. “I have no idea if it’s for the best. Maybe I’m screwing my mom over .”
“What do you mean?” I don’t want to pry, but at the same time, I can’t watch her stress out like this without trying to help .
“It’s a long story, and we have a full workday ahead of us, I assume,” Emma says .
“You’re not going to be of much use when your mind is preoccupied,” I say. “If talking about it is going to help, I’m happy to listen .”
“Well . . .” Emma studies my face. “I’ve never talked about this with anyone .”
“Maybe that’s where you’ve gone wrong. You can’t do the same thing over and over again, and expect different results,” I say .
“Insanity, as defined by Einstein.” She realizes I’m staring at her in surprise and adds, “I’ve come across the quotes online .”
I wince. “I hate to say this because people often call me a smart-ass for correcting them over small details, but although the quote is often attributed to Einstein, the original source is unknown . . . Sorry, I couldn’t help myself .”
Emma laughs softly. “I didn’t know that, and now I do. That’s a good thing, Sandy .”
“Some people wouldn’t agree.” The corners of my lips pull up as I watch her smile .
I think somehow I’m helping her feel better. I’m not sure how I did it, but it feels good. It feels like she gets me. I don’t often come across people who get me .
“Well, I’m not some people,” Emma says, her blue eyes big and bright as they focus on me. Her intense gaze almost knocks the wind out of me .
“I see that now,” I say once I get my breathing under control. “So, since you don’t want to talk about the phone call, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you . . .”
Emma
“W hat is it?” I ask .
“I’ve been wondering which one of us is the sexy jerk you were grumbling about when I first saw you in the living room,” Sandy says with a teasing smile .
>
I burst out laughing. “I’m not going to answer that .”
“I assume it wasn’t me because we hadn’t met at the time. For the same reason, I don’t think it was Hudson or Austin, either,” he muses out loud. “So, it was probably Fraser because he wasn’t here to let you in. Or, it was Ian. It’s weird for a brother to admit this, but he’s got a certain bad-boy vibe that girls seem to like .”
Sandy’s actually making a good guess; I was annoyed at Ian at the time .
But, even though Ian is sexy . . . so is Sandy, and all his other brothers—each of them in his own way .
Oh, shoot. That reminds me. I left Fraser in my new bedroom .
I check my watch. It’s been about ten, fifteen minutes .
“Um, I forgot something.” I bolt up from the couch .
Has Fraser been waiting for me? Is he . . . Will he want to pick up where we left off? But I was having a nice conversation with Sandy . . .
As I walk down the hallway, I realize Sandy’s trailing behind me. I guess Fraser and I won’t be making out again this morning . . .
“Hey, sexy,” Fraser greets me when I push the bedroom door open .
He’s still lying on his side on the bed. I can see hints of hard muscles underneath his shirt, and they make me want to jump back in. I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers over those hard abs and trace the lines down all the way to . . .
“Hmm . . . So, Fraser’s the sexy jerk,” Sandy says from behind my shoulder, jarring me back to reality .
Fraser doesn’t seem surprised to see Sandy or to hear his comment. He shrugs. “I’ll take that as a compliment .”
“No, he’s not,” I say .
“So, it’s Ian,” Sandy concludes .
“Hey, I’ll have you know that I’m plenty sexy, and I so can be a jerk,” Fraser protests, his thick eyebrows knitted into a frown .
I can’t help but laugh. “You guys are ridiculous .”
Something warm and heavy touches my head gently, and I realize Sandy’s stroking my hair .
“It’s good to see you laugh,” Sandy says. “You seemed sad earlier .”
