Emmitt knocked on my door the afternoon following our talk. The boys were outside playing, and I was alone. I quietly backed away from the door. It seemed every time we spent time alone, I let too much slip. We needed distance. I needed distance. So, I snuck to the bathroom and avoided him with the skill of a master thief.
After his footsteps faded in the hallway, I risked a quick look out the bathroom door. The sunlit pattern of the French doors on the kitchen floor caught my eye. The island blocked a good portion of it, but not the top half. The shadow of a man drifted through the bright patch. I spent the afternoon reading on the toilet.
It proved more difficult to avoid Emmitt the following day. He stood outside the apartment door when the boys ran out in the morning. Stunned by his unexpected appearance, I gaped at him for a moment before my brain kicked in.
“I have to take a shower,” I said in a rush then slammed the door in his face.
I stayed under the hot spray until my fingers pruned, then I crept around the apartment, stealthily checking the windows and doors. When time passed without spotting Emmitt, I changed into my swimsuit and grabbed a book. No more toilet reading. My legs had gone numb the day before. I eased open the French doors and tiptoed onto the porch.
The warm summer air surrounded me, and I took a slow, deep breath and shook out my blanket.
“Michelle?”
The sound of his voice directly behind me almost made me scream. Heart hammering, I clutched the blanket to my chest and spun to face him. My master thief skills were more like apprentice level. I caught a glimpse of his hurt expression before he smoothed his features into a carefree mask of indifference.
“I need to go into town for more paint soon. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and help pick out the color.” His eyes held mine as he spoke. He stood a few feet from me, wearing paint splattered cargo shorts and an equally colorful printed shirt. A brush hung from a loop on his shorts.
I didn’t answer immediately, and he tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting. My stomach did its weird flutter. After talking to Nana, it felt more like a tug. It made me nervous all over again. Why did I react like that to him? It had to be the reason I couldn’t seem to keep my mouth shut.
“I’ll pass. I’m more comfortable here,” I mumbled. Riding to town to get paint meant taking the car since Jim had the truck. Thinking of any amount of time in the confines of Nana’s little putt-putt, alone with Emmitt, did funny things to my insides.
“Okay,” he said with a small nod. Then he turned and walked away. My shoulders sagged in relief.
He left me alone for an hour. Laying in the shade of the third floor porch, I heard his footsteps approaching, but didn’t scramble to my feet fast enough. He caught me on my knees.
“Thirsty?” he asked, holding out a sweating glass of water. Who is Blake? The last time he’d offered me something to drink, I’d said too much.
Fine. The drink had nothing to do with it. Not really. Emmitt was the problem.
“No.” I popped up as if pulled by a string connected to the top of my head. “I have to pee.” I dashed through the French doors and closed myself in the bathroom. Again.
After a few minutes, I ducked into the bedroom, threw on a shirt, and rushed downstairs to ask Nana and the boys if I could join them. The boys eagerly welcomed me while Nana gave me a curious look. She didn’t stop her lesson, though.
Since she kept her door open, I saw Emmitt pass by several times before lunch. Each time my stomach trembled, and I wished the stupid thing would stop causing me so much trouble.
When Nana announced her lessons complete for the day, I left the apartment with trepidation and led the boys upstairs for lunch. Our door stood open. I made Liam go in first while I hid around the corner.
“Emmitt! Are you cooking lunch today?”
Liam’s excited greeting caused me to throw a spontaneous quiet tantrum in the privacy of the hallway. There was a lot of silent foot stomping and some pantomimed fainting involved. Thankfully, Aden walked in right after Liam and missed my awesome display.
Straightening my shoulders, I stepped through the door. For the first time ever, Emmitt didn’t look up at me. Not even briefly. He focused on the boys and their sandwiches.
“Yep. I thought maybe I’d eat with you guys. How about we carry these sandwiches downstairs and eat on the grass?” He handed each boy a sandwich and, carrying one for himself, left with the boys.
Owl-eyed and confused, I stared at the empty door as the lone sandwich he’d left on the counter mocked me. I’d hurt his feelings with my avoidance. Drifting to a stool, guilt ate at me. Dejectedly, I took a bite of the sandwich. Turkey. With bacon. Frowning at the delicious taste, I set the sandwich aside. Didn’t he know I had no choice? Couldn’t he stop asking me questions for five seconds? Cradling my head in my hands, I grimaced remembering his questions today. Simple, harmless questions.
I sighed and admitted an ugly truth. The problem wasn’t Emmitt. It was me. I wanted to tell him everything. How stupid could I be? Not even a week had passed since he’d revealed his secret. Though I’d decided to learn what I could from him, I’d yet to resolve a few things in my mind. Primarily, the trust issue. It was too soon for that.
Hardening myself against the guilt, I decided to keep avoiding him.
A brief rain shower Friday morning, followed by a hazy, breezeless sky, spiked the humidity. Instead of lessons inside, Nana encouraged the boys to play in the sprinkler while they recited the things they’d learned during the last few days. The sweltering heat of the apartment drove me outdoors, too. I brought the blanket and book with me.
Emmitt painted upstairs until the heat drove him out. He stepped outside without a word to me. Calling to the boys to save him some water for later, he disappeared into the shadows of the garage and returned carrying a weed eater. After a few sharp pulls, it started with a loud drone, and he moved to the tree line, turning his back to the porch.
Part of my frustration with myself was my inability to stop looking at him. My eyes drifted to his back repeatedly, watching the play of muscles as he held the machine inches off the ground. I tried lifting my book higher to block the line of sight, but the book always drifted back down on its own. If only I could get over my fascination, maybe my stomach would stop freaking out and I would lose the urge to spill my guts.
He took off his shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his shorts. I lost the battle and outright stared, book forgotten.
Finished with the first section of trees, Emmitt killed the motor and moved to the next, glancing up as the boys shouted to him. I was in his line of sight. Caught staring, I blushed and lifted my book again.
When the motor started, I quickly offered to make lunch and sprinted upstairs. I could feel my resolve weakening. I needed help.
After lunch, Emmitt left with Nana’s car to get the paint he needed. He hadn’t repeated his invitation.
Nana asked if we wanted to walk in the woods where it would be cooler. Liam heartily agreed. Aden, pruned from so much time in the water, nodded. I insisted they go without me if Nana could manage. She laughed, assuring me they would be no trouble.
I ran upstairs, changed into cutoffs and a tank top, then waited on the porch. It didn’t take long for Jim to pull into the driveway.
“Jim!” I called popping up from my spot on the porch and moving to the truck before he parked. “Will you teach me how to drive?”
His eyebrows rose lifting his sweat soaked hair. “You don’t know how?”
“I’m self-taught and need practice. Everyone else is gone.” I crowded up to the driver’s side door and gave him a pleading look. Inside my head, a clock ticked. We still had hours before dinner, and Emmitt would soon return with the paint.
“Sure,” he cut the engine. “Can I shower quick?”
“I guess.” I didn’t bother to keep the disappointment from my face. I really wanted to leave before Emmitt got back.
He eyed me for a moment then grinned. “I’ll be back in less than five minutes.”
I stepped back as he opened the door. With a blur and a breeze, he vanished.
Blinking, I looked around. What game did he play now? We didn’t have time. Striding to the house, I heard him singing inside and stopped. A shower ran. I smiled. He moved fast.
I returned to the truck and settled into the driver’s seat. The keys dangled from the ignition. I touched them lightly. I could leave. So easy. Of course, my brothers held me—I wouldn’t leave without them—but I could take the keys and wait. Tell Jim I changed my mind. No. At some point, I had come to terms with the fact that we lived with werewolves. Did I like it? Not really. Did it bother me? Only when I thought about it, which I needed to do more often. The urge to leave primarily stemmed from my growing fascination with Emmitt. I needed to figure out a way to deal with that so I could become serious about getting answers about Blake.
The passenger door opened and closed with a gust of wind. Jim sat beside me. He was freshly showered and wearing clean shorts, sandals, and a wife beater.
“Start her up. What do you need to know?”
I cranked the starter and took a moment to remember our quick escape. “I figured out the gas and the brake. Sometimes I still mix them up,” I admitted. He gave me a worried look. “But it’s mostly the rules I need to know. Like who goes first at a stop sign, when to use your blinkers, what the ‘N’ stands for here.” I pointed to the shifter display.
Putting the truck in reverse, I didn’t wait for his reply. The gas pedal was touchier than I expected, and we flew backward. Had the garage door been closed, I would have bumped it. Just a little. I mumbled a quick apology, shifted into gear, then pulled forward smoothly.
Gravel crunched under the tires as I brought us to the road. I didn’t quite stop. Rather, I rolled forward slowly until I could see both ways were clear then pulled out onto the road.
“Okay. Two things,” Jim said. “If you’re turning onto a road, use your blinker. It might not be a law, but it’s polite. And always stop to look both ways. A complete stop.”
I nodded and kept driving. He explained the gauges inside the truck while I kept my eyes on the road. Mostly. He suggested I take my foot off the gas when going into a curve instead of trying to keep the speed limit through it. His advice relieved me as the last curve had felt like one side of the truck had lifted off the road.
When we came to the bar Emmitt and I had stopped at, Jim begged me to pull in. This early on a Friday, cars hadn’t yet crowded the parking lot so I didn’t need to worry about avoiding anything as I jerked the wheel to make the quick turn.
I parked with a jarring stop and uncurled my fingers from the wheel. Jim was already out of the truck and headed toward the door before I could turn to ask what we were doing there. I unbuckled, plucked the keys from the ignition, and rushed to catch up. I caught the door on the backswing and followed Jim inside. Two window air conditioners hummed in the otherwise quiet bar. It felt nice inside. Not a bad place to cool off.
Jim called to the bartender for a double shot of whiskey. I shuddered, remembering the tequila, and sat on the stool next to him. The bartender gave him the glass with amber liquid. Jim drank it down and asked for another before the man could move away. He repeated the process four times then sighed and asked for two beers.
“Can you get drunk?” I asked Jim once the man moved away.
“Yep, but I have to work harder at it, and it doesn’t last as long.” He pushed a glass of beer toward me.
“But I’m driving.”
“Nope, not anymore,” he said as he reached over and plucked the keys from my hand. Considering what he’d just consumed, I thought the key confiscation a bit backward.
“Come on, Jim. I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
Instead of answering, he asked the bartender to line up another four doubles of whiskey. He handed me his wallet and told me to stop him when he ran out. The bartender and I exchanged a look.
“Jim, if I’m not driving and you’re drunk, how are we getting home?” I’d left my brothers with Nana Wini. What would happen when they got back to the house and I wasn’t there? I began to worry. How could I be so stupid? When I’d asked Jim to teach me, I’d just wanted to put some distance between Emmitt and me for a while, not drive away.
He winked at me and drank his whiskeys, this time spacing them out by a few minutes. I took a sip of my beer and dug through his wallet to lay out a few bills. Jim laughed and pulled out a few more.
“So are you going to tell me why you really wanted to kill me today?” he asked when I glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Jim, we should really go back. Nana has the boys and won’t know where I disappeared to.”
Jim arched a brow at me, and I pouted a little before answering his original question. I didn’t really want to talk about it.
“I’m avoiding Emmitt.”
“I’ve noticed. Just can’t figure out why.”
I shrugged and took another sip of beer. Wine tasted better, but beer won over tequila. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Not really. You just need the proper motivation.” He nodded toward the dartboard. “I win, you tell me. You win, I leave it alone.”
I shook my head before he finished his offer. “No way. I have no idea how good you are.” If he could run faster than I could see, how could he miss a dartboard?
“Dice then. A game of chance. I might be ready to go afterward.”
Dice, I could play. I nodded, and he taught me a quick drinking game, only instead of taking a shot, the loser told a secret. In my case, why I wanted to avoid Emmitt. In Jim’s case, who’d taught him to sing in the shower.
Jim whomped me. I took the last drink from my beer. Jim motioned for another.
“Because I’m stupid around him,” I said in exasperation.
“Explain.”
“I lose focus on what’s important and start talking about things I shouldn’t,” I said then asked the bartender for a sweeter beer. He gave me a funny look but moved his hand from one tap to another.
“Why can’t you talk about things?”
If only Jim had asked what I couldn’t talk about; I would have clammed up.
“Because people take advantage of information. They use it to gain power, control.”
The door behind us opened, and a few more Friday patrons trickled in. I replenished the money on the bar as Jim called for more whiskey. He grinned at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“So you’re avoiding Emmitt because you’re afraid you’ll say something he’ll use to control you?”
I began to nod then stopped myself. Had I said that? Damn. I eyed my beer.
“Don’t blame you,” Jim said interrupting my thought. “He’s a bit of a control freak. O.C.D. Look at how driven he is to finish that apartment for you.”
What?
“I mean, you haven’t even decided if you will stay, yet. I tried telling him he needed to chill, but no. Be prepared. That’s how he thinks.”
“He’s finishing that apartment for us?” I couldn’t get past that tidbit.
Jim nodded and nudged my glass. I dutifully took a drink.
“Yep. Doesn’t think his apartment is a good home for you and the boys. Apparently, my decorating doesn’t meet his standards.” He rolled his eyes.
I hid my grin with another sip.
“If he’s not working on that, then he’s always listening for you. Or Liam. Or Aden. He leaves the apartment door open ‘just in case’. In case what? I say let it go already.”
I thought he just opened the door in the morning to welcome the boys. But to have it open all the time? My heart melted a little.
The door opened, and a larger crowd of men came in. A few called hello to Jim. Jim nodded and smiled but didn’t invite them to join us.
“You know what really puts me over the top?” he asked, looking at me with frustration. “He won’t let me make the pancakes!”
Several people turned to look at Jim. I studied Jim in surprise, not sure how to respond to his outburst. Then, I caught a twinkle in his eyes.
“You brat!” I smacked him on the arm, and he laughed.
He’d picked on my concerns but had also revealed some interesting information about Emmitt. Things I didn’t know. Did I have to worry about Emmitt using the information against me? I didn’t know because I didn’t really know Emmitt.
“Fine. You win. I’ll stop avoiding him.” My stomach flipped in anticipation, and I let out a shaky breath. Friends only, I reminded myself. That would be risky enough. I’d probably say more than I wanted.
“Good girl,” Jim said, smiling approval. “Drink up. The music’s about to start. It’ll get too loud in here to talk.”
I looked around the crowded room and wondered where everyone had come from. The glass in front of me was cold and full. Hadn’t I been drinking out of it already? I thought I’d almost drained it.
“We can go now if you want,” I offered.
“Please, no!” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just need a few more minutes.” After all the alcohol he’d consumed, he didn’t seem the least bit affected.
Three more beer and two hours later, I needed to use the restroom. A crowded dance floor occupied the space between my goal and me. I leaned close to Jim to hear myself over the music.
“Be right back,” I half-shouted and hopped off the stool.
He nodded at me with a grin and lifted his glass to sip the beer I suspected he’d been nursing for the past hour. If he didn’t want me driving, maybe he was sobering up? Wait, was he ever really drunk? I felt a bit light-headed and unsure of the real answer.
Without tripping or embarrassing myself, I made it to the restroom. The small room did little to muffle the blaring music but did offer my ears a slight respite. The time away from Jim and his distracting conversation helped me remember my responsibilities. Liam and Aden.
After drying my hands, I stepped out of the restroom and carefully started to skirt around the group of bodies writhing to the music. I craned my neck, trying to spot Jim. We needed to leave.
Instead of seeing Jim, I met a startling pair of dark eyes for a moment before a random dancer moved in the way. I froze, doubting what I thought I’d seen. When the dancer moved, no one familiar stood there. Dark blue eyes or otherwise. I shook my head, blamed the beer, and continued to inch forward. Definitely time to insist we go home. Jim had to be sober by now. I wanted to get back to my brothers and needed to apologize to Nana.
The mass of dancers drifted, blocking my route along their edge. Taking a deep breath, I changed tactics and started to snake my way through the dancers. I mumbled apologies as I went. Shoulder to shoulder, bodies bumped and brushed each other as they swayed to the music. I struggled to make any progress. An arm encircled my waist, stopping me completely. I tried to spot Jim at the bar, but the crowd was too thick. The music too loud to yell. Defeated, I turned to face my captor.
Dark blue eyes, close cropped dark hair, and a perfect mouth swam before my eyes. Emmitt. My heart skipped a beat. He wore jeans and a faded blue t-shirt. His eyes unwaveringly met mine. He studied me with an intensity I didn’t understand.
He leaned in to smell my hair. Tingles skittered along my neck and arms.
“Hi,” I whispered, tipsy and unsure of his mood.
Folding me in his arms with a sigh, we swayed to the fast music. “You had me worried,” he whispered in my ear. He rested his forehead against mine.
“My driving’s not that bad,” I protested, pulling back slightly. He let me have my space as his lips quirked and he shook his head.
“When you stopped talking to me, I thought you wanted to leave. Then, you did. With Jim.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say for a moment. His eyes burned into mine, capturing me even through the beer haze. My hands came to life at my side, reaching up to clutch the fabric of his shirt near his stomach. My knuckles brushed his hard muscles. I melted a little.
He exhaled and closed the distance between us. As he lowered his head, excitement burst like a bubble within me, randomly splattering my insides with a cold fire. The room tilted. My blood rushed, and my eyes fluttered closed. I held my breath, lifted my face, and forgot my vow to confine our relationship to the boundaries of friendship.
“Please stop,” he begged.
My eyes popped back open. “What?” I asked confused.
His mouth hovered inches from mine. The song changed. A slow beat to match our sway. I lifted myself up on tiptoes and let go of his shirt to wrap my arms around his neck. I felt his breath on my lips. So close…
He moved quickly, nudging my head to the side with his jaw, giving him access to bury his face in the curve of my neck. His lips rested against my skin but didn’t move. He inhaled deeply and groaned.
“Driving me crazy,” he murmured, answering my question.
It took me a moment to understand him. I drove him crazy? The look in his eyes, the way he held me, and what he’d just said added up to one conclusion. Despite his previous assurance that he only wanted friendship, I thought he wanted to kiss me. Had I misread the situation? I tightened my arms around his shoulders, and he pulled me closer. Nope. I didn’t misread a thing.
“I don’t understand.”
“If you’ll let me, I’ll explain in the morning. When you’re more lucid.”
The song ended, and he led me from the floor. I stumbled a bit, the floorboards doing their best imitation of a rollercoaster.
“You found her.” Jim grinned at me. “Good.” He handed Emmitt the truck keys and held out his hand, waiting for Emmitt to surrender the motorcycle key. “You two have fun.” He sat back on his stool and began to speak to the woman on his right.
Emmitt shook his head and tugged me toward the exit. Tripping on the threshold, I fell through the door. He spun and caught me before my eyes even locked on the gravel rising up to meet my face. Without a word, he swung me up into his arms. I snuggled into his warm chest and smiled, touching his shirt.
