I played decently and so did Craig, but Mr. Weston, who insisted we call him Brent, soundly defeated both of us and even edged out our boss. Although it did cross my mind to wonder if Mr. Wheeler hadn’t sliced his last drive on purpose.
As we were discussing some details of Brent’s legal needs, I heard my voice being called. When I turned around, I was pleasantly surprised to see my father striding toward us with a smile.
“Dad,” I greeted, mirroring his happy expression.
He gave me a short hug and then pulled back, turning to my companions. “Thomas,” he held his hand out. “A pleasure to see you.”
The two men had known each other casually for years, but introductions were made for Craig and Brent, and pleasantries were exchanged.
“I hope my daughter is doing her old man proud,” my dad said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I had a momentary flash of nervousness for some inexplicable reason, as if I were still a child needing approval.
“Absolutely,” assured my boss with a polite laugh. “She’s a credit to the firm.”
I felt my cheeks begin to warm and willed them to stop. I also noticed Craig shifting a bit impatiently on his feet, probably ticked off he wasn’t the center of attention—not that I wanted to be. But it was always nice to hear you’re doing a good job, no matter the situation.
“Well, she’s always been determined and hard-working, that’s for sure. A chip off the old block,” my father felt the need to share, not caring in the least that he was laying it on way too thick.
Still, Mr. Wheeler was gracious as ever, and talk soon turned to business, to my great relief. It was only as we were all parting ways that Mr. Wheeler made mention of the upcoming tournament, which my dad’s firm always participated in. “You’ll want to watch out, Robert. Your daughter is bringing along her secret weapon to the field this year.”
I felt my head go light. My father, understandably, looked perplexed. How in God’s name was I going to get out of this one?
“I bet you wish you’d hired her yourself now that she’s dating a ringer,” Mr. Wheeler taunted good-naturedly.
I grappled for something to say, but could do nothing but plaster a false smile on my face. Thankfully, my father was sharp as a tack. It wouldn’t do that his daughter’s boss knew more about her dating life than he did. My dad’s mouth assumed an identical smile to mine and he just said, “Indeed,” before departing.
I sighed with relief, but knew there would be a summons to the Scott house in my very near future. I wondered who I could drag along with me this time.
“Oh, Ms. Scott,” Mr. Wheeler stopped me on my way out the conference room door late that afternoon after a meeting on AgPower. “It seems one of the patent applications hasn’t been filed yet. I’m not sure how they neglected to tell us about it, but we need to get that sorted immediately.”
I nodded. “Absolutely. I’m surprised they let that go this long with how much attention they’re attracting.”
He buttoned his suit jacket. “My thoughts exactly. It’s a minor one, but still. Check your inbox.”
“A bit cavalier of them. Thankfully they have us to keep things from getting out of hand,” Craig weighed in as he and another associate gathered their things from the conference table.
“That’s what we get paid for, Mr. Pendleton,” Mr. Wheeler picked up his bag and sauntered from the room. I followed, breaking off to the right toward my office once more. It looked like I’d be missing Jay’s game after all. I hated that.
Craig appeared in my doorway twenty minutes later, his briefcase in hand. He leaned on the doorframe wearing an indiscernible expression. I sat back in my chair. “Anything I can help you with, Craig?” I fiddled with my pen while he seemed to consider this.
“I was just thinking, maybe we should bury the hatchet, you and I.”
I studied him, trying to determine if this was one of his games.
“Look. I know you don’t like me.” He straightened. “And maybe I’ve given you cause. But this account is too important for us to let personal feelings get in the way. How about it?”
This was genuinely surprising coming from Craig. I would have assumed he’d never in a million years admit to any form of poor conduct on his part. Blame was always shifted when Craig had a say. What was he up to? Or was I being paranoid for assuming the worst? I decided to proceed with caution.
“I think that sounds like an excellent way to move forward,” I finally responded.
His mouth formed a very modest, professional smile, creepy lips and all. Then he nodded and wrapped on the doorframe with his knuckles before bidding me goodnight. If we were calling a truce, I was going to have to stop picturing him as Cillian Murphy.
I filed the conversation away to dissect later, and called one of the paralegals to join me in my office to finish gathering what we could for the patent application.
My phone vibrated on my desk a few minutes later and I excused myself, knowing it was probably Gavin. As usual, I couldn’t bring myself to ignore it. I briefly acknowledged to myself the new name I’d assigned him proved I was getting soft, and then read his text.
Slugger: Are you here? I haven’t seen you yet?
Darn it. I’d forgotten to tell Jay and Gavin I wouldn’t be at the game.
Emerson: No. I got stuck at work. If you talk to Jay tell him I’m so sorry!
Slugger: He’ll understand. He may not even be playing tonight.
Well that stunk. Jay blew those other pitchers away—the coach had to be crazy not to play him. I felt my mouth go tight.
Emerson: I may be having a talk with that coach!
Slugger: Simmer down, Ace. Not going to help. Although, I admit the idea of you all hot and bothered is a good one.
I felt my cheeks flush. How did he do that to me so easily?
Slugger: Are you blushing?
I gasped. How did he know that? I snuck a peek around to make sure he wasn’t actually lurking somewhere in the hall. He wasn’t, of course.
Emerson: Shut up.
Slugger: Wish I could see your face.
Emerson: Get back to the game, jerk.
Slugger: Later, Emmy.
Even with the blush that still stained my cheeks, I was smiling when I got back to work.
“Did you win?” I shouted when I heard the front door open and close. There was no immediate response, so I ducked out of the kitchen to check the entryway.
“Only because they put the star pitcher in for the last three innings.” It wasn’t Jay who explained. It was Gavin. Gavin Monroe was standing next to my brother in my entryway. And I was wearing my silk pink pajamas with my hair tied up in a messy knot and my face completely free of make-up. And, of course, I was barefoot.
It took me a moment to form words.
Jay chimed in, “I figured he should see what you look like in your natural habitat. You know, so he’d understand what he was getting into.”
I was going to kill my brother. My hand went to my hair and I knew—I just knew—my face was the color of a freaking boiled lobster. They both just grinned at me, making me want to kill Gavin too. Naturally, he looked perfect in his cargo pants, casual red t-shirt and that damn green cap that he must have been born wearing.
“Congratulations,” was all I managed.
Neither male seemed fazed in the least, and Jay raised a huge brown takeout bag while they both walked past me and toward the kitchen. “Thanks. Want some Chinese?”
That was an unfair question. Of course I wanted Chinese. I turned and glared at their backs as I followed them to the kitchen, running my hands over my pajamas to make sure everything was covered and there were no wardrobe malfunctions. It was too late to do anything about my outfit, but the least I could do was reassure myself I wasn’t going to flash anyone. But, as if they knew exactly how flustered I was with Gavin’s sudden appearance in my home, my nipples decided to poke at my pajama top as if to say, “Hi, Gavin. In case you weren’t aware, we think you’re hot.”
>
I stared at them, cursing to myself, and just managed to cover them with crossed arms as Gavin pivoted at my island to look at me. “We didn’t know what you liked so we got an assortment. All the kid knew was that you’re a fan of veggies.” He mock-scowled at Jay and my brother just shrugged his shoulders, completely unconcerned with anything apart from filling his face with food as soon as humanly possible.
I approached the island and attempted to mentally calculate how I was going to fix a plate of food while keeping my arms crossed to hide my traitorous nipples. Why hadn’t I worn a bra?! Oh, right. Because I hadn’t expected my ridiculously inappropriate crush to materialize in my house with take-out.
At least Jay had had the manners to pull out three plates before he piled his high and retreated to the living room. I heard the TV turn on to what was, undoubtedly, a baseball game.
“So, good surprise or bad surprise?” Gavin asked with a cocky grin on his face. I wanted to roll my eyes but managed not to.
“Well, at least you brought dinner,” I responded with a little glare. “But just a hint about women for next time…we like a little advance notice.”
He scooped some rice on a plate and topped it with what looked like beef and broccoli. “Ah, but then I wouldn’t have gotten to see your pink pajamas.” He raised that darn eyebrow at me.
This time I did roll my eyes.
“You want me to fix you a plate?” He gestured with the spoon.
I was still worried about my predicament and didn’t want to uncross my arms. “That’s okay. I’ll get mine in a minute. Go ahead and finish yours.” I gestured with my chin, knowing exactly how awkward I must look.
Gavin noticed. Terrific. He cocked his head and took in my position. “Are you cold?”
Oh God.
I bit my lip and said nothing. This was too embarrassing, so I ordered my boobs to behave and then uncrossed my arms, attempting casual and probably missing by a mile. “No.”
His eyes went straight to my breasts and then back up to my eyes before a sly grin formed on his lips.
“Don’t you dare say a word.” I walked closer to the island to grab a plate, but Gavin just continued to look at me, his eyes getting a little smoky. Oh my. That was a good look on him.
He abandoned his plate and slowly came around the island, not stopping until he was very much in my personal space. His hand went to the side of my neck and I could smell the grass and dust on him from the game. He kept my eyes until he was too close, and then he was kissing me.
This kiss had none of the gentle hesitation or request for permission that his previous kisses held. His mouth demanded my acquiescence, and his tongue insistently probed my mouth to duel with mine in a wet collision laced heavily with heat and want. He turned us and I felt the edge of the island counter press into my spine while Gavin’s hands roamed my body. I returned the kiss with everything in me. I didn’t care what I was wearing, or how my hair looked. I didn’t care that Gavin was twenty-four and posed potential career suicide. And I most certainly didn’t care that I was starving and loved Chinese food. The only thing that mattered was Gavin’s mouth on mine, his hands stroking over my body, and the need for him to be everywhere at once.
Overwhelmed by this desire that was so foreign to me, I’m ashamed to admit I practically molested the poor guy. My hands went straight for his ass, taking inventory for a good long while before traveling up his back and shoulders, my fingers taking in his lean muscle and the warmth of his body. Reading my overt behavior as invitation, Gavin’s own hands moved down to my butt and he grasped it in both hands, pressing me in closer to him. I felt his hardness against my belly and the spider monkeys screamed their damn heads off.
The next thing I knew, he lifted me by my thighs, and my butt was on the island with my thighs straddling his hips. This new position placed us in perfect alignment so I could feel his arousal against my center. He was not shy, that was for certain. Of their own accord, my legs circled him and my ankles crossed behind his back as his tongue ran down my neck. I heard myself moan into the hair that was peeking out from beneath his favorite cap.
He murmured unintelligible words against my skin and I pressed him in closer with my heels. My entire body felt so tightly wound I feared what would happen to it next. I didn’t understand the sensations this guy—this man—was evoking in me. I was not in control of my own faculties. I was completely at his mercy and would have gone anywhere, done anything he asked in that moment.
A shout from the other room pierced into my consciousness without warning. I jumped and felt Gavin do the same. “Come on! That was a strike!” Jay shouted. Gavin and I were both breathing heavily, still wrapped in each other’s limbs. I could feel a slight burn from his five o’clock shadow on my chin and neck, and my pulse thrummed in my ears. I brought a hand to my mouth to feel my kiss-swollen lips as I unhooked my legs and Gavin took a step back. He took his cap off and scrubbed a hand through his hair before putting it back on and helping me off the island. We were completely silent. I knew my silence was the result of complete and utter awe as well as a good dose of embarrassment at the brazen behavior I’d exhibited just feet away from my teenaged brother.
It took a moment for me to meet Gavin’s eyes, but when I did, all I saw was heat. This man wanted me. It was written clearly on his face, and I was guessing mine was a mirror image.
Criminy!
Chapter Eighteen
Mind Officially Blown
GAVIN
Holy mother of hard-ons.
She’d had me fooled with her blushes and her coyness and all those conservative outfits, but Emerson Scott was sex on legs. I’d nearly lost my damn mind and dry humped her in the kitchen while her brother ate fucking Chinese fifteen feet away! My mind was officially blown.
I was still catching my breath and staring at her, wishing with everything in me that Jay wasn’t home. The image of her spread out for me on that damn island and the thoughts of everything I would do to her were going to keep me up all night. A fully naked and aroused Emmy on that expanse of granite—Christ.
There was nothing to be done about it, though. Jay’s heckling had alerted us to his presence, thank God, and we had to put the fun stuff on hold. But with the look Emmy was giving me, it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Um, I guess we should eat?” She attempted, still catching her breath.
I couldn’t speak yet, so I just nodded and willed my cock to calm the fuck down. I was going to have a permanent impression of my zipper on the underside of the damn thing if I hung out with this woman much longer. We finished gathering our food and joined Jay in front of the TV to watch the end of the game. Well, they watched the game—I watched Emmy, more certain than ever that we had something between us that couldn’t be ignored.
When the game was over and the leftovers put away, Jay headed to his room and Emmy walked me to the door.
“So, what’s the plan for the tournament this weekend?”
She shifted a little nervously on her feet. “Oh, right. Um, it’s at Gibson Park off Wendover. We’re supposed to be there at 11:00. I’ll bring your uniform shirt for you.”
“How about if I pick you up?”
“Oh,” She shrugged. “I guess that would be okay.”
“Don’t get too enthusiastic on me,” I teased at her tone, making her crack a little smile and shake out of whatever had been distracting her.
“Sorry. That would be nice. But isn’t it completely out of your way?”
It was, but I didn’t care. “I want to pick you up. 10:30 okay?”
She ducked her head a bit and it was fucking cute.
“Okay.”
Then I kissed her again, careful not to get carried away this time. But I was scheduling some alone time with her as soon as humanly possible. Somewhere with some privacy and a nice horizontal surface, preferably.
Exhibiting a colossal error in judgment, I mentioned the tournament in passing to Nate. Nate, Bailey, and their dad, Riordan, o
wned Built by Murphy, the family business that employed me part time.
I’d been working at a remodel job the day after Chinese and Emmy’s sweet mouth, when Nate showed up to check in with one of the independent contractors. He pulled me aside on his way out—I assumed, to talk to me about a work-related topic. Not so much.
I walked to his truck with him and he leaned back against the driver’s door. He pulled off his hardhat and scratched the back of his dark hair, looking a bit tense. I started to feel worried for him until he broke the quiet with a comment I immediately wished to unhear.
“I’ve been thinking about asking Laney to have a baby.”
The hardhat in my hand dropped and landed with a crack on the pavement. I ran both of my gloved hands over my face and around to the back of my neck, holding them there. “Why the hell do you have to talk to me about this? I don’t want to hear about you and my sister. Do you not remember the horrific scene from last weekend?” I shook my head at him like he was an idiot, and I was seconds from bolting.
He put his hands on his hips and faced me. “I figured you’d have some insight.” He shrugged. “You know, you did live with Laney and Rocco since the beginning and I figured you’d, I don’t know, maybe have an idea of how the whole thing might go over.”
I dropped my hands and shook my head again. Poor, misguided man. Didn’t he know that my sister’s favorite pastime was proving me wrong? “Dude, I am clueless. You’ve got to talk to someone else—and might I suggest you at least buy the poor soul a beer or two first? I mean, would you want Jake talking to you about knocking up Bailey?”
“Yeah, thanks, Junior, but I’m living in the middle of that horror show right now.”
I threw my hands out. “See, so you need to have some pity on me! I have no idea if she wants a baby. You think she talks to me about that stuff? Ask Fiona if you need an outside opinion.”
He looked at me as if I were a complete moron. “And have Laney find out I talked to someone else first?”
The Game (Carolina Connections Book 4) Page 16
