“Mom, I’m sorry but you’re wrong. You need help. Either that or someone needs to take a match and light this place on fire.” He turned around, ignoring her pleas for him to stay, and made his way to his truck.
As he headed home, his entire body began to shake from the shock. A part of him hoped he’d find Emily waiting for him, but the other hoped to God he didn’t. It turned out not to be an issue because she wasn’t there. Just as well because after this he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to face her again.
* * *
She still couldn’t believe what had happened. The moment Emily drove away from Alice Miller’s home, she made the decision that she was not going to reach out to Reeve. His reaction was out of line. But Saturday morning as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she began to question that choice. Maybe she was weak, or maybe she couldn’t stop seeing the look of panic and pain on his face.
His reaction had been terrible. Scary, even. But whenever Emily stopped to put herself in his shoes, she felt an inkling of understanding. She knew without a doubt that he’d been completely horrified and humiliated by finding her there. Who wouldn’t be? His mother’s home was the kind of place they featured on reality television. For her to witness it—without his knowing or giving permission—had obviously called out to a very deeply insecure and damaged part of Reeve.
What she couldn’t reconcile was whether that gave him the right to be such an utter dick. It had been humiliating for her, as he stood there and yelled at her like a child. Especially after she’d just crawled across a floor covered in cat poop to locate an animal that hadn’t really been lost at all but just hanging out behind a pile of junk. Reeve hadn’t even given her a chance to explain what had happened. For a woman whose trigger was a man being an asshole, she couldn’t believe that her heart was even giving him the benefit of the doubt on this. But it was, just a little, because when she’d entered that home her heart had broken for him and for his mother.
Nevertheless, he’d been horrible to her and he hadn’t yet apologized for it. So maybe that was it. Before they’d really even started, they were over.
When she could no longer ignore the hunger pains in her stomach, Emily got up and ate some breakfast. She spent the morning working, running on the treadmill, and doing laundry. Anything to keep her mind off the fact that she was originally supposed to have a picnic date with Reeve today.
She wondered if he’d been thinking of her. Did he wish she’d call? Was he waiting for her to apologize? It wasn’t the first time that had crossed her mind, but every time she even considered it, she had to remind herself that she’d tried apologizing that day. Repeatedly, even, and he hadn’t been willing to listen.
Hell, she’d even apologized in her original voicemail.
But what was she supposed to do? Leave a distressed older woman in a hot house? No, she’d done nothing wrong. She knew that. And as much as she understood his reaction, she deserved an apology from him. The worst part was not knowing if that was the real him she’d witnessed. Was that what a relationship with him would involve? Yelling and blaming? The fearful part of her wanted to chalk this up to a lesson learned early and say good riddance. But the rational side wanted answers. Wanted to tell him that it was okay. That she didn’t judge him by the mess inside his mother’s house.
Trying to take her mind off Reeve, Emily spent the afternoon tanning by her pool while she read the newest Becky Bradley book. By the time she’d finished off some cheese and crackers for an early dinner, she’d had it. Obviously, he had no intention of speaking to her about what had happened. That was unacceptable.
Emily took a shower, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Twenty minutes later she pulled into Reeve’s driveway behind his truck. His garage door was open, his Harley sitting inside. At least she knew he was home and hadn’t taken some other woman out on the bike.
She took a deep breath and was about to head for the front door when she noticed the gasoline container sitting on the ground. Then the sound from the background registered. A lawn mower. Heading around the side of his house, she admired the row of white azaleas blooming along the side of his house. It made sense that his landscaping was nice, but it was no less impressive for it. Especially for a bachelor.
Reeve’s backyard had a low wooden fence and Emily leaned on it, looking around. When she caught sight of him she sucked in a breath. Gracious, he was too good looking, sporting a pair of navy athletic shorts and a baseball cap.
Nothing else.
The row he was currently mowing had him walking in the opposite direction so she had the pleasure of admiring him for a moment unnoticed. She found it adorably amusing that he had a noticeable farmer’s tan, but even the lightest part of his torso was still more tan than any part of her body. Obviously he still spent a good amount of time shirtless. A shame he couldn’t always be semi-naked. Emily was sure his female clients would have no problem with him working in nothing but tattooed skin and chest hair. Hell, even fully dressed he’d had her employees at LAM salivating at the windows.
When Reeve got to the far end of the row he pivoted the mower with one hand and turned around to head in the opposite direction. Emily’s body tensed, waiting for the moment when he saw her. It took a little bit, and it wasn’t until he was halfway down the row that she saw his head look up and do a double take. She gave a little wave but he didn’t wave back, just kept two hands on the handle. She didn’t miss the way his biceps flexed with tension, as if his grip had tightened upon seeing her. His face hadn’t given any of his emotions away, partly because he was wearing sunglasses.
He finished the strip of grass he was on and let go of the clutch. The silence was a stark contrast from the rumbling engine, and suddenly she wondered if she just should not have come.
Walking over, he took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair before shoving it back down on his head. He was damp with perspiration, chest hair sticking to his shiny skin.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.”
He just stared. She could feel the intensity of his gaze despite not seeing his eyes.
“How are you?” she asked.
He shrugged, his hands settling on his hips. “Good. Just getting some shit done.” His lips went into a flat line and she was tempted to question why getting shit done was preferable to spending the day with her as they’d previously intended. It was all bullshit and once more her anger bubbled up.
“I kept hoping you’d call me.”
He licked his lips, hesitating. “I kept hoping I’d want to, but I never did.”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise at his callousness. Here she had hoped that after having several days to reflect back on what had happened, he’d be able to see things more clearly. Hopefully be regretful. Apparently she had underestimated what a jerk he could be. She tried to think of something to say. Something smart, cunning, and as viciously painful as what he’d just said. But nothing came to mind so she just turned around and began to walk away.
“Damn it, Em.”
She heard the gate open behind her and she picked up the pace. Not quickly enough, because suddenly his warm hand caught her elbow and jerked her around to face him. Instantly she ripped her arm away.
“Don’t you manhandle me again. I didn’t come here for you to treat me like shit, you asshole.”
Reeve sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry. Just . . . please don’t go.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked.
“Because what I just said didn’t come out right. I wanted to call you, Whip. All week I did. I wanted to see you today. So damn bad. But something stopped me. Not you. This has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”
“You had a funny way of showing it on Wednesday.”
“I was angry. Beyond angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been so . . . mad. Ever.”
“At me?”
“Yes, but not really, no.
I just . . . I don’t know how to explain it to you. And I hate the way I acted that day. It was wrong and I’m disgusted with myself for how I treated you.”
“You should be.”
“I know, damn it. I said that I was.” He sighed.
“Are you sorry for it?” She hated that her words came out sounding desperate and uncertain.
“Of course I am. I’ve played those moments over and over and . . .” He sucked in a hard breath. “I’m sorry, Emily. Can’t we just try and forget that day?”
“How? It happened. It’s the reason I had to finally come here and corner you. The reason we’re fighting in your yard instead of having fun out on your bike like we were supposed to.”
He nodded, but didn’t respond. He rested his hands his hips once again, and she tried not to watch how his arms flexed, sweat dripping down his torso.
“If I weren’t here now . . . what would have happened? Anything?”
His nostrils flared as his lungs filled. He looked down at the grass for a moment and then finally back up at her. “I don’t know.” The uncertainty in his voice made her want to cry. “But you did. You came to me.”
She breathed in deeply, still short of breath from her adrenaline-fueled anger. Reeve took a step closer. Tired of guessing what he was truly thinking, she reached up and pulled his sunglasses off his eyes.
He didn’t attempt to stop her, only squinted a bit as his eyes adjusted to the evening sun. When their gazes met, she realized maybe that was a mistake. Looking into Reeve’s blue eyes was possibly her kryptonite. He smelled like clean sweat and grass clippings and it was all she could do not to reach out and lay her palm on his chest. But first, he owed her a lot more than an apology.
“How do I know I won’t see that side of you again?”
His brow furrowed, and he absentmindedly scratched at his chest. “This is going to sound like a load of bullshit, but I don’t think you realized what that moment was like for me. Finding you there.”
She began to speak but he interrupted her. “Just . . . please let me get this out. I’m not trying to make excuses, Emily. But you have to understand something. No one. Not one person, that is important to me, has been into my mother’s house. Not ever. I had every intention of keeping it that way for the rest of my life.”
“But why? That’s her home. It has nothing to do with you.”
“How does it not? I grew up like that, Em. That was my life.”
She bit her bottom lip, unsure of what to say. “I’m so sorry. I hate that. And I hate that me being there upset you, but I could not have left her alone. She’s your mother. You also need to understand that there is nothing about her that makes me think less of you.”
His eyes pinched shut and his hands instantly threaded through her hair. He tugged her toward him and kissed the top of her head, almost in frustration.
“I don’t deserve you being here, Emily. Do you know that?” He whispered into her hair.
She lifted her hands and latched onto his wrists, holding him to her. “Yes I do.”
He chuckled. “Will you please stay? I’m almost finished,” he said.
There was no refusing this man. Not today, anyway, and she might regret the decision at another time, but in this moment it felt right to have his hands on her. “Okay.”
He pulled back and looked down at her. “Thank you. And can I ask you a huge favor?”
“What?”
“Go into my kitchen and get me a glass of water while I hurry and finish up?”
Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? One minute you’re throwing out insults and the next you’re asking me to wait on you? You’ve got some balls.”
Reeve smirked. “You should know,” he said as he made his way back to the mower.
She followed him through the gate and then headed for the deck and then straight into the kitchen. Once inside she couldn’t help looking at his home in a new light. She’d noticed before that it was very clean. Minimal almost to the point of empty, and now she wondered if that was on purpose. Most people had things strewn about their kitchen cabinets. Coffeemakers, toasters, napkin holders, stacks of mail, and such. Reeve had nothing. Emily stepped into the living room and realized it was the same way. There was a bookshelf holding some very neatly arranged video games, books, and DVDs, but that was basically it. Everything was tidy. Was that the result of having a mother who was a hoarder?
Rooting around the cabinets—which were also rather empty except for what was necessary—she finally found some glasses and filled one with ice and water. She headed back outside and made herself comfortable on one of the patio chairs. Reeve mowed several more rows of lawn before taking a break. He walked up to the deck, and she handed over his glass.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a long drink. She watched his throat as he swallowed over and over, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Everything about him screamed virility. It was no wonder she couldn’t stay away from him. He handed her the glass, which was now just ice, and got back to work.
There was something very domestic and calming about sitting here on his back deck watching him do yard work. As if this were just a normal Saturday night. She was almost tempted to pull out her phone and settle back into her book, but that seemed silly since she had a real-life man to admire right in front of her.
The monotonous sound of the mower soothed her as she watched him walk slowly up and down the backyard. She could sit here and watch him all evening. The flexing of his abs as he leaned forward and then pulled the machine back toward him; how his butt looked in those shorts.
When he was finished he pushed the mower back to the front and Emily went inside to refill his water glass. She heard the sound of the garage door, and then he was coming through another door into the kitchen. She turned from the sink and handed the glass to him, once again watching him closely as he drank it.
“Thanks.”
Setting the cup down on the counter, Reeve stepped into her space and put his hands on her jaw. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.
She stared up at him, not missing the look of uncertainty in his eyes. That was new. He’d been so sure of himself every other time they’d been together, especially when it came to anything physical, and it reminded her how the past few days had reopened an emotional wound for him.
Emily pretended to consider it, despite the fact that she wanted nothing more. “I guess so.”
His lips quirked the slightest bit and then he leaned down to take her mouth in a kiss. It was tentative at first, but quickly turned hot. Within seconds he was done with subtlety or teasing, and began to consume and taste every inch of her lips and tongue. She let him have what he wanted from her, and planned on getting what she wanted in return.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was hard for Reeve to believe that this woman was standing here in his kitchen. Getting his mouth on her had proven that it wasn’t a dream; she had in fact come to him. Sought him out. By the way she was gripping his back with one hand and running her fingers through his hair with another, she still wanted him.
Even after what she’d seen—and she’d seen it all. Every single thing he’d spent a lifetime trying to hide from the outside world. All the filth, the shame and self-loathing. And yet here she was.
“Still can’t believe you’re here.” His words were ragged and breathless against her temple as her lips sucked on his sweaty neck.
“You were supposed to be mine today, remember? Hard to believe you’d rather mow the yard then be with me.”
“You should know better than that,” he said.
She lifted her lips from his neck and looked at him. “How would I? You never called.”
“Let me make it up to you.” He trailed his fingers over the waistband of her pants, rubbing small circles on the skin of her abdomen, teasing her lower and lower.
Fuck, he was glad she was here and was willing to do anything to show her just how sorry he was for being an ass, for losing his temper, for not callin
g.
Emily’s hands clenched his back hard when his fingers slipped lower and pressed against her. The knowledge that she still wanted him after all that happened was more of a turn-on than anything he’d ever experienced. Suddenly he needed to be as close as possible, to show her with his body just how much he desired her to make up for his lack of words.
He gently pushed her against the kitchen counter. Wanting to see more of her, he lifted her T-shirt. She leaned back long enough for him to pull it up and over her head. After dropping it on the kitchen floor, his palms immediately went to her breasts. Slowly, he rubbed his thumb over the lace of her bra, feeling her nipples harden beneath the scratchy fabric.
“You’re too good for me, Em,” he whispered, believing the words with every fiber of his being. He ignored the shaking of her head and couldn’t meet her eyes after he said it. He wanted her, that was all there was to it. Whether he deserved her or not no longer mattered. From the first moment he’d seen her in that bar he’d wanted her naked and underneath him, all the while knowing full well that she was not meant for him. Even so, the pull of Emily had been too great and it still was. He should send her away now.
He couldn’t. She’d come to him and he couldn’t deny himself.
The fire between them continued to burn hot and bright as his mouth moved to her breasts. He pulled the straps of her bra down, freeing her nipples to his lips. Jesus, she tasted good, felt good, smelled good. Her hands threaded through his hair as he went down on his knees and slid her shorts down her legs, then her panties.
He heard the sharp intake of her breath when he leaned forward to kiss the skin next to her belly button. Licking his way down her body, he finally settled his lips where he wanted them the most.
A breathy moan escaped her and Reeve gently maneuvered her arms back, guiding her into a leaning position on the counter. She complied immediately, leaving her lower body angled toward him enticingly.
All I Ask Page 17
