They quickly put the kitchen to rights, filled the refrigerator with leftovers, and soon Maddy and Trish were saying good-bye. Emma helped carry a basket with cooking utensils down a hallway to the back of the house. She followed Trish outside and saw what couldn’t be seen from the front. A three-car garage formed an extension from the back of the house and interlocking pavers created a parking area lined on one side by tall pines.
Trish opened the back of a smart SUV as Brad and Maddy joined them with the rest of the things she was taking home.
After stowing all the bags and baskets, Trish surprised Emma with a quick hug. “I’m so glad I finally got to meet you, Emma dear. You’ll sit with us at the picnic. It’ll be fun.”
She turned to her son. Emma’s throat tightened when Brad enveloped his mother in a hug, laying his cheek on top of her head. They stood like that for a long moment before he released her, then leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for dinner, Mom. You’re the best.”
“You bet I am, handsome, and don’t you forget it.”
Maddy reached up and kissed her brother on the cheek, and turning, gave Emma a quick hug. “I’ll sign you up for the softball game, too, Emma.” She climbed into the passenger seat while her mother opened the driver’s door.
In a moment, tires were crunching on gravel and the car disappeared up the driveway. In the sudden quiet, Emma glanced uncertainly at Brad. “Wow, they’re quite a pair.” She shifted restlessly, then said, “I guess I’ll head back now.” She hadn’t accomplished what she’d set out to do, but she couldn’t bring it up now. He looked relaxed and content; she could see that clearly. He’d enjoyed the evening with his mother and sister, and she didn’t want to be the cause of bringing down his mood. And she was a coward. Without Trish and Maddy to act as buffers, being with him in the gathering dusk was simply too intimate.
Brad raised a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Afraid to be alone with me, Emmaline?”
“You bet. ‘Bye.” She took a step toward the corner of the garage, guessing she could find the trail back to her cabins somewhere around there.
Brad reached to take her hand. “This way.”
He guided her back through the house, grabbed two jackets from hooks next to the door, and led her out onto the veranda. But instead of releasing her so she could go down the steps and home, he tugged her over to stand in front of the porch swing. After putting on a jacket, he let go of her hand to drape the other over her shoulders, and when she had put her arms through the sleeves he lifted her hair over the collar, running his hand down its length. “Sit with me.”
Chapter Eleven
“No.” Emma put up her hands. When he touched her, she had trouble forming a coherent thought. She also knew sitting on a swing as the sky deepened to night would not be conducive to telling him they couldn’t be together.
“Can’t you feel it, Emmaline?” Brad stepped back, and she knew he would respect her boundaries, but distance didn’t lessen the intensity emanating from him. “Can’t you feel how good we are together? You and me, having dinner with Mom and Maddy? It felt right. Like you belong with me, with all of us.”
The images of family, of people who could love her for who she was stirred her deepest yearnings. But there was no way her life would end up like that fantasy. She stiffened her spine and spoke deliberately, careful to get each word right so he would understand. “It’s an illusion, Brad. I sat with you and your mother and sister today at the kitchen table and, yes, it was enjoyable, but it’s an illusion. I’m a fraud.”
“What do you mean, a fraud?” Annoyance tinged his voice. “I see a woman who had a rough childhood, but who, through grit and determination, has made herself into something amazing. When I look I see you, and you’re as genuine as they come.”
“No. You’re seeing what you want to see. You don’t know how it was when I was a child. My grandfather didn’t even know.” She paused. “Do you know how many times I’ve sat and had a family dinner?”
He gave her a frustrated look. “What does that have to do with anything?”
She ignored his question. “Zero. I never had family dinners because I never had a family. My biological father meant no more to my mother than a brief affair. He left the second my mom found out she was pregnant.” The words tumbled out in a rush. She was ripping off the bandage. “Mom couldn’t get along with her parents so she took off for Los Angeles, where I was born. So it was her and me. No one else.”
“You and your mom were still a family, Emmaline.”
“No, we weren’t. At least not like your family. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel like I was the adult. I was always the one who had to make the tough decisions.”
“What do you mean?”
He asked the question calmly while Emma again felt the knots tighten in her stomach because she knew she had to tell him about things that would make him realize the truth. The real Emma wasn’t someone he could ever have deep feelings for. He would never look at her the same way again.
“We lived in motels, Brad. Mom waited tables when she was clean but when she fell into it again, when the temptation of whatever drug she’d been on got too strong, she couldn’t work and we’d get kicked out. Sometimes we went to a shelter, if they would take us. A couple of times we slept on the street.” She looked directly in Brad’s eyes, almost daring him to offer sympathy. “It’s so far away from the way you were raised we might have been on the moon.”
He gazed out over the lake, perhaps seeking calm before turning back to her. “That doesn’t make you any less desirable and it certainly doesn’t make you a fraud. You—” Whatever he meant to say was cut off by the shrill ring of the phone from inside the house.
“Hang on, I’ve got to get that in case it’s the station.” Obviously unhappy with the interruption, he stalked into the house.
Emma sat on the porch swing, her body rigid with tension. He returned moments later.
“I’ve been called in. There’s trouble at the Brew Pub.” Emma rose to follow him back into the house where he opened a closet and withdrew his police belt. There was nothing else he could have done that would have more decidedly symbolized his identity as a cop. He looked up at Emma as he strapped it on. She could tell from the steady, focused look in his eyes his mind was already on the job.
“We’ll finish this conversation soon. I’ll drop you off at your place on my way.”
“No need. I can follow the trail back.” She felt hollowed out and needed time alone to sort out her feelings, and he certainly didn’t need her slowing him down.
“I don’t have time to argue. I’m taking you. Let’s go.” He turned around, obviously expecting her to follow him down the hall.
There was no point in further protest so she went out the back with him and waited while he backed the SUV out of the garage before climbing in. He whipped the vehicle around and headed to the highway.
“Do you always get called in? Don’t your officers take care of dustups at the bar?” Emma watched his profile in the twilight.
“Usually. There’s been a shooting, so I have to be there.”
“A shooting? Was anyone hurt?”
“Not so far.”
“A shooting in Hangman’s Loss. That’s hard to believe.” Emma’s voice was incredulous.
“Yeah, shootings here are uncommon. Sounds like a couple of our local idiots got into a fight and one of them had a gun in his vehicle. That kind of stupidity can happen anywhere.” The headlights flashed on the resort sign and Brad took the turn into the driveway. He pulled up in front of her cabin.
Emma unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door, but then paused. No matter that her feelings were scattered and confused, he was going into a dangerous situation. “When you have a chance, would you call and let me know you’re okay?”
His eyes glittered under the dome light. “You worried about me, sweetheart?”
“Maybe. A little. Just let me know you’re not hurt, okay?�
� Emma lifted her chin, stubbornly insistent.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, but I’ll check in with you.” She gave him a nod and slipped out of his jacket to leave it on the seat before climbing down from the vehicle. She watched until his taillights disappeared from view.
Hours later Emma sat in her flannel pants and thermal top, sipping tea at her tiny kitchen table. A quiet knock sounded at her door. She approached the door cautiously, then heard the low voice.
“Emmaline, it’s me.”
She turned on the porch light and unlocked the door to pull it open. The night had turned cold, the earlier breeze having brought in cooler temperatures. She stood back to admit Brad as he blew on his fingers for warmth.
“You’re okay.” Emma hadn’t realized how worried she’d been until he stood before her, vital and strong.
“Yeah. The stupid bastards were feuding over a girl. They’ve been after one another for years and today one of them took it up a level, and he’ll have to do time for it.” Disgust laced his tone.
“Was anyone hurt?” she asked.
“No. It never should have come to this but they hate each other’s guts and there’s no talking sense into them.” He sighed, then raked fingers through his hair. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned at her sleeping attire. “You look cute.”
Emma snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding. Cotton pants and a men’s shirt. Hardly cute.” She sobered when she caught the hungry look beneath the humor.
He moved toward her, lifting a hand to lightly trail a forefinger along her jaw. “I guess I like cotton pants and a men’s shirt, then. On you.” His gaze focused on her lips before returning to meet her eyes. “One kiss, and then I’ll go.”
“Brad.” Her breath caught. “I was trying to explain why we can’t do this. I’m not the kind of woman you need,” she said the words even as she leaned toward him.
“You’re exactly what I need,” he muttered. He tipped up her chin to catch her lower lip between his teeth. She couldn’t stop the low moan coming from deep in her throat. Long fingers delved into her hair, and warm lips feathered across hers until she opened her mouth to his. He slid smoothly into the kiss, tongue gliding along hers.
The seductiveness of feeling utterly cherished was more than she could withstand. She pressed her body to his, and tugging his shirt from his belt, slipped her hands underneath to feel the warm skin and taut muscles of his back.
He broke the kiss to nuzzle along her jaw to her ear. “I lied,” he whispered. “One isn’t enough.” He took her mouth again, and she all but fused herself to him, savoring his warmth and need.
Her mind simply shut down, reasons and fears dissolving into nothing as her heart took a scrambling plunge. All her carefully crafted arguments were laid waste by his assault, and Emma could only hold on tight.
When Brad finally lifted his head, she stared into his eyes until he sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “Sweetheart, I’m leaving now while I still can.” He stepped back and reached for the door. “Lock up behind me.”
With one last burning look he was out the door and disappeared into the dark.
***
Emma rose before daylight the next morning and sat at her computer, poring over the website design. When she’d spent probably more time than was necessary on that, she began an analysis of cost projections, running expenses and potential income for the resort through the remainder of the year. On her third cup of coffee, she glanced out the window to see Dory heading down the dirt driveway with Adrian in the backseat of the car. The computer monitor said it was almost eight o’clock so Adrian was on his way to school.
After shutting down the laptop, Emma grabbed her caddy of cleaning supplies, and headed to Badger cabin. With the volume on her iPod’s speaker way up, maybe she could drown out her thoughts. If she sang along with the old Jim Croce songs, she could almost keep herself from thinking about Brad and the hot, hot, hot kiss they’d shared.
She was nearly done scrubbing the bathroom when Dory walked in, and she immediately dialed down the volume on “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” Dory leaned against the doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest as she studied Emma. “Your light was on early this morning. I think you’ve already put in a full day’s work and it isn’t even nine. What’s going on?”
Emma shrugged. “There’s work to do and I’m doing it. Not that hard to figure out.” She couldn’t seem to keep the surliness out of her voice. When Dory looked at her with those steady, dark eyes, Emma could feel the defensiveness creep into her voice. “What’s wrong with being busy? I happen to like busy.”
“Nothing, if you’re not using the busy to avoid some issue. And if you’re not cranky on top of it.”
Emma almost growled. “Five-year-old children get cranky. I don’t get cranky. I might get legitimately irritated if my coworker wants to spend the morning giving me the third degree, but I’m not cranky.”
“I think this has something to do with our totally hot police chief who happened to be at your cabin late last night,” Dory responded with a grin. “Not that I’m checking up on you, but it’s not hard to see someone driving up to your cabin from my kitchen window.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Dory, he dropped by. He checks up on everyone around here. It’s not like we had a quickie in the five minutes he was here.”
“Well, your loss on that one. And I guess if you’re cranky and there’s nothing between the two of you, then you don’t want to hear what our heroic chief did last night.”
“Heroic? What do you mean?”
“Are you really interested?” She could tell Dory was enjoying having the scoop.
“Of course, I’m interested. Spill it.” It took all of Emma’s restraint to prevent herself from reaching out and shaking Dory.
Dory dropped all pretense of holding back. She sat down on the toilet lid while Emma sat on the edge of the tub. “I heard about it from one of the other moms when I dropped off Adrian. Get this. Brad goes out to the pub because Ralphie La Rue and Britt Davies are at it again. Ralphie was more stupid than usual and he had a gun under the seat of his truck. When he and Britt got into their usual pissing contest, he got the gun, then shot out a tire on Britt’s pickup. He was threatening to shoot through the gas tank about the time Brad showed up.”
“Sounds like he’s crazy,” Emma said in a hushed voice.
“Who? Brad?”
“No. Ralphie, of course. Tell me the rest.”
“Okay, okay. So Jack Morgan was trying to calm Ralphie down and keep Britt from going home for his own gun when Brad got into the action.”
“What did he do?”
“I’ll tell you. Totally unfazed like he does this every day, he walks up to within about ten feet of Ralphie, who still has his gun, and says, ‘Ralph, what’s going on?’ And Ralphie starts in about how Britt’s disrespected him one too many times and he wasn’t going to take it anymore.” Dory paused to look around. “Why are we talking in the bathroom?”
“Don’t make me hurt you, Dory,” Emma muttered. “What happened then?”
“Well, Brad lets him tell his story, which has something to do with a girlfriend, Britt’s sister, and, somehow, a dog. All the while, and this is from Adrian’s friend Joey’s mom whose sister works at the pub, Britt is swearing up a blue streak, calling Brad and Ralphie all sorts of nasty names.”
“I can see Brad. Cool and calm in the midst of chaos.”
“Yeah, that’s our boy,” Dory agreed. “Well, he tells his officer to put Britt in the back of a patrol car and shut the door so they wouldn’t have to hear him. Then he starts with Ralphie about when they played baseball for Loss High and wasn’t the championship game a good one and before you know it, Ralphie hands over the gun and agrees to be arrested.”
“Wow. I guess that comes from knowing your people.”
“Yep. And once Ralphie is on his way to the station, Brad gets Britt out of the cruiser and talks him down from his thre
at to go and torch Ralphie’s cabin.”
“So Brad ended the crisis without any bloodshed. He didn’t say a word about it last night.”
Dory looked at Emma, a gleam in her eye. “Maybe you kept him too, um, occupied for him to tell you what happened.”
Emma decided she could deal with a little teasing. “I have to admit, when a man’s kisses are as superior as Bradley Gallagher’s, you don’t spend much time talking.”
Emma sailed out of the bathroom, followed by Dory’s loud, “Woo-hoo!”
Chapter Twelve
Working like a fiend for the next week, Emma poked and prodded at what she thought of as big problem number one and big problem number two. Big problem number one was Brad. He’d gone and made her have feelings for him she wasn’t sure what to do about. She wasn’t ready to define those feelings as love but was uncomfortably aware that’s the direction they were heading.
He’d somehow gotten her past where his being a cop was a problem. He’d muscled his way around that one simply by being the type of man he was. Honesty and integrity surrounded him like bright, shiny armor. But because of that he should have someone small-town, girl-next-door wholesome. Not someone like her, raised on the mean streets of L.A., riddled with self-esteem issues and saddled with a drive to prove herself at all costs.
On top of that, if Police Chief Bradley Gallagher wasn’t enough of a problem, there was big problem number two to deal with. She’d received a certified letter from Great Mountain Development with a warning that they’d use eminent domain to seize her property if she didn’t play ball. The thought of losing her legacy from her grandfather made a knot of worry form in her stomach. She chewed her bottom lip as she pondered the issue, then decided she wasn’t about to sit around and do nothing when her home and livelihood were under threat.
A visit to city hall resulted in an interesting conversation with her city councilwoman, Ruthie Gordon. The upshot was that Ms. Gordon needed community support to oppose the developer and Emma promised to do whatever she could to help.
Flash Point Page 10
