Part 7 (1/2)

Emma exited the bathroom. She slipped her feet into her sneakers, latched B.B.'s leash to his collar and stepped around Casey to head out the door. Obedient whenever it suited him, B.B. followed, and, without a word, Casey fell into step behind him. She'd only gone down three steps, her destination the lobby where fresh coffee waited, when she heard Casey begin humming some tune that she didn't recognize.

He knew she slept without a man. Emma wondered what he intended to do with that knowledge, because she knew Casey too well to mistake him now. He was up to something, and she dreaded the coming battle.

It was herself she'd have to fight, of course. She'd never been able to resist Casey, not then, and not now. d.a.m.n.

BEFORE SHE COULD HEAD for the lobby, Casey caught Emma's arm. ”Take B.B. to the bushes, then park yourself at the picnic table. I'll get the coffee.”

She looked ready to argue, so Casey reasoned with her. ”You can't take the dog inside, and he's starting to look desperate. Really, fetching you a cup of coffee won't tax me. I'll even get one for myself. Okay?”

She glanced at the dog, who did indeed appear urgent, then nodded. ”All right. Lots of sugar and a smidgen of cream.”

”Got it.” Casey sauntered away with a smile on his face. He'd spent the night thinking about Emma, and being s.e.xually frustrated as a result. He couldn't say what he'd expected this morning when he'd knocked on her door, but the picture she'd presented had taken him by surprise.

Soft. That was the word that most often came to mind when he thought of Emma. Soft eyes, soft heart, soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s and hips and thighs...

This morning, still sleepy and wrapped in a bedspread, she'd been so soft she'd d.a.m.n near melted his heart on the spot, along with all the plans he'd so meticulously devised throughout the long night. He'd taken one look at her and wanted to lead her right back to bed.

It had been doubly hard to give up that idea once he knew Damon had a separate room.

Seeing her sleek, silky hair tangled around her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her eyes a little dazed had made him think of a woman's expression right before she came. Emma's very kissable mouth had been slightly puffy, and her lips had parted in surprise when she saw him at the door, adding to the fantasy.

Her legs...well, Emma had always had a killer a.s.s and gorgeous legs. That hadn't changed. As a perpetually h.o.r.n.y teen, resisting her had been his biggest struggle. As an adult, it wasn't much easier. In fact, he had no intention of resisting her now.

Unfortunately, she'd pulled on jeans rather than the ultrashort shorts he remembered in their youth, and her legs were now well hidden. But she hadn't bothered with a bra yet. With each step she took, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s moved gently beneath the cotton of her T-s.h.i.+rt, and the faintest outline of her nipples showed through.

Casey's muscles tightened in antic.i.p.ation of seeing her again and he snapped lids on three disposable cups of coffee then plucked up several packets of sugar, two stirrers and some little tubs of creamer. He stuffed them in his pockets. Balancing the hot cups between his hands, he shouldered the door open and started back to Emma.

In limp exhaustion, she rested at one of the aged wooden picnic tables that had always served as part of Mrs. Reider's small lot. Guests used the tables often, but this early in the day no one else intruded. Casey didn't make a sound as he approached, and Emma remained unaware of him.

She'd kicked off her shoes, and her legs were stretched out in front of her with her bare toes wiggling. Sunlight through elm leaves, s.h.i.+fting and changing with the careless breeze, dappled her upturned face.

The air this time of morning remained heavy with dew, rich with scents of the earth and trees. Emma sighed and her expression bespoke a peacefulness that made Casey smile from the inside out. He liked seeing Emma at peace. When she'd been younger, so often what he'd seen in her eyes was uncertainty, loneliness, even fear.

She spoke a moment to B.B., who sprawled out in the lush gra.s.s at her feet, then she reached up and lifted her hair off her nape. Casey stalled in appreciation of her feminine gesture. Even from her early teens, Emma had displayed an innate sensuality that drove every guy around her wild. She stretched her arms high, and her hair drifted free to resettle over her shoulders.

d.a.m.n. He absolutely could not get a b.o.n.e.r in Mrs. Reider's motel lot.

Neither could he allow Emma to affect him this strongly. He had to remember that despite her appeal and everything he'd once felt a still felt a she'd walked out on him and hadn't bothered to get in touch in eight long years. And she hadn't come back for him now. If her father wasn't so sick, she wouldn't be here.

”Here's your coffee.” His emotions in check, Casey took the last few remaining steps to her and set the cups on the tabletop. ”I hope you haven't chewed off any tree bark or anything.” He scattered the sugar packets and creamer beside the cups.

Eyes scrunched up because of the sun, Emma turned to him with a frown. ”Damon exaggerated. I'm not that bad.”

”If you say so.” He smiled at her. ”But remember, I witnessed you firsthand. For a minute there I expected to see smoke come out of your ears.”

She looked ready to growl again, but restrained herself. ”I hadn't had much sleep.”

”I'm sorry I woke you.”

”You don't look sorry.”

Casey shrugged and continued to simile.

Emma considered him a long moment, then took the coffee and quickly doctored it to her specifications. The second she tipped the cup to her mouth, she moaned in bliss. ”Oh G.o.d, I needed that.” She took another long drink. ”Perfect. Thank you.”

Casey sipped his own coffee, prepared much like hers. ”Not a morning person, huh?”

She shook her head. ”I'm barely civil in the morning. I've always been more a night owl.”

He remembered that a and a whole lot more.

She didn't say anything else, made no effort toward casual conversation, which annoyed him. She sat with him, drank the coffee he'd brought to her, but kept him shut out.

To regain her attention, he touched the back of her hand with one fingertip. ”I still think waking up with you would be fun.”

Surprised by that comment, Emma froze for a good five seconds. Abruptly, she drained the rest of her cup and stood. She didn't look at him. ”Thanks again ... for everything.” She started to step away.

Casey moved so fast, she gasped. In less than a heartbeat he'd reached over the table and s.n.a.t.c.hed her narrow wrists, shackling them in his hands. He stared into her mesmerizing, antagonistic brown eyes until the air around them fairly crackled.

”Don't go.” Two simple words, but his heart pounded as he waited.

She looked undecided.

”I brought you another cup.” Casey stroked the insides of her wrists with his thumbs, kept his tone easy, persuasive. ”Sit with me, Emma. Talk to me.”

He ignored the rise of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she slowly inhaled. Her hesitation was palpable, forcing him to think of more arguments, other stratagems, until she said, ”Why?”

Sensing that she'd just relented, Casey relaxed. ”Sit down and I'll tell you why.”

With enough grumbling to wake the squirrels, she dropped into the seat. This time she slid her legs under the table and faced him with both elbows propped on the tabletop to hold her chin. ”I'm waiting.”

Casey took in her belligerent expression and swallowed his amus.e.m.e.nt. Not once in all the time he'd known her had Emma ever shown him disgruntlement. She'd shown him adolescent l.u.s.t, feminine need, a few flirting smiles and occasionally her vulnerability.

It didn't make any sense, but he felt as if he'd just gained three giant steps forward. ”Yeah. You know, I think I'll feel more secure if you drink the other cup of coffee first.” He prepared it as he spoke, and handed it to her with a flourish.

She slanted him a look through her thick lashes. ”With the way you've acted so far, you're probably right.” She accepted the coffee and sipped. ”You've been deliberately provoking.”

Casey waited until she swallowed before he spoke. ”There's still something between us, Emma.”

She promptly choked, then glared at him before searching in vain for a napkin. Casey offered her his clean hankie. ”You okay?”

She brushed away his concern. ”Something, huh?” Her voice was still raspy as she wheezed for air. ”Well, I can tell you exactly what that something is.”

Casey tilted back. ”That right?”

”Sure.” She finally regained her breath. ”I'm not dead. I felt it too.”

Her mood was so uncertain, he couldn't decide how to handle her. ”You know, you're a lot more candid when you're crabby.”

Without another word, she dropped her head to her folded arms. He didn't know if she was laughing, but he was certain she wasn't crying.