Blaze: A Texas Heat Novel (7 page)

Jordan entered his office with a bag of muffins from The Cookie Wookie. Traitor!

“Dude, have you tried these? Sugar cinnamon and spice muffins, nom nom, melts in your mouth.”

So does the woman who made them! Dylan shifted uncomfortably in his swivel leather chair. “Hmm, I moved your one o’ clock meeting. The Chamber of Commerce requested you at the ribbon cutting for The Cookie Wookie.”

“No,” Dylan said sharply.

Jordan folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe. “You always attend the ribbon cuttings for grand openings on the square.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You’d rather not?” Jordan asked in disbelief. “You need to be out there front and center as the face of economic prosperity. This photo op is too good to pass up. The Cookie Wookie is a hot new business, everyone and their grandmother will be there, including your opponent so unless you’re dying, I need you to shake hands with the owner, play nice, cut the damn ribbon and flash that signature grin.”

Duty calls. Dylan inwardly groaned. He didn’t trust himself to be anywhere near Emerson. Surely nothing would happen between them at the grand opening though. It’s a public event. There would be a few hundred people in attendance plus reporters. It’s safe, he told himself, I’ll have complete and utter self-control.

The good citizens of Aberdeen by the Lake came out in force for the grand opening. Gran beamed with pride. She stood beside Arthur, greeting guests as they arrived. Emerson dressed with care. She wore a flowing black dress with a lace bodice and her hair loose about her shoulders. 

Donavan found her in the throng of customers and reporters. “Hey, congrats girl, you done good.”

“Thanks!” she said.

He looked yummy as always. Women drooled. Yet Emerson felt uneasy accepting his dinner invitation. She wondered about her friend, Harper’s feelings for him. And she had to admit, her heart belonged to someone else. She didn’t want to hurt Harper or use Donavan. Ava Chambers smoothly wedged herself between Donavan and Emerson.

“Well this is impressive. I think I’m addicted to your sweet potato pie.”

“Thank you,” Emerson said. Odd how the older woman glued herself to Emerson’s side until her son arrived.

Emerson’s heart pounded the moment he stepped through the door. Her body craved his touch, his lips, the delicious weight of his body on top of hers. No! Emerson told herself firmly. Mister Mayor wants Barbie First Lady and clearly, she didn’t fit the bill! Emerson greeted him with cool professionalism.

“Mr. Mayor.”

His blue eyes glittered. “Miss Riley.”

She looked straight through him. “Thank you for coming, shall we begin? After the photo you can go, I’m sure your schedule is packed.”

Dylan blinked. Who is this calm, cool, collected business woman? Emerson treated him with polite indifference. Isn’t this what he wanted? Heck no! He didn’t like the way she avoided direct eye contact or her brisk manner as if they were civil strangers. No one would suspect he had her up against a wall, half naked only days before.

He cut the ribbon with a giant pair of scissors. Everyone applauded. When he held his hand out for her to shake, Emerson pretended not to notice. She fake smiled. “Oh excuse me Mr. Mayor!” She joined a reporter who conducted a local televised interview.

She didn’t want to touch him now? Really? It pissed him off. Dylan knew he was being unreasonable. But damn it, he didn’t have to like it! On some unfathomable level, Dylan already considered Emerson his. Can’t think like that. He had to keep his distance.

He greeted members of the chamber and other guests. Town folk sampled delectable rich deserts and gourmet sweet treats. Everything tasted delicious. Food critics spoke to Emerson at length, praising everything they ate. Dylan felt a rush of pride.

She did it, opened her own bakery, just like she said she would when they whispered their dreams to each other on prom night. The bakery was decorated just as she envisioned ten years before. The walls had warm pastel colors, rustic light wood tables, chairs and a few plush love seats throughout. A gorgeous wall mural of Texas blue bell flowers and glass counters full of warm, freshly baked cookies.

Dylan made his rounds, acutely aware of Emerson’s every move. As the crowd thinned, Dylan lingered. His campaign manager raised an eyebrow. “You’re still here? Dang, I’m gonna overdose on these chocolate truffles. Seriously, I’m asking Emerson Riley out, she’s a sweet little thing, you think I have a shot?”

“No,” Dylan said coldly.

Jordan looked taken aback by the frosty tone. “Is she seeing someone?”

“Yep.”

“Aw too bad.” Yeah, run along Jordan.

“Well she’s an absolute legend, I’ll be a customer for life.” You do that. Jordan took the hint and left. Dylan found every excuse in the book to linger, he rationalized to himself as he stalled.

Finally, it was down to Nell, Arthur, Emerson and Dylan. “Young Chambers,” Arthur said, pumping his hand, “Good of you to come out and support little Em.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Would you mind staying a spell? Help Emerson close up shop?”

Say what? Emerson shot Dylan a look of panic. “I’m sure the mayor is very busy.”

“Not at all,” Dylan said smoothly, “I’d be happy to help.”

“Very fine,” Arthur said. He wrapped his arm around Nell’s waist.

Gran looked worried. “Maybe we can all stay.”

“
The Walking Dead’s
on tonight, thought we were gonna watch it together, sugar plum?”

Gran perked up. She was a diehard fan of the television show. As a result, Nell and Arthur were survivalists prepping for the Zombie Apocalypse.

“It’s okay Gran,” Emerson assured her.
I’m strong. I can resist him!

Arthur and Nell held hands and waved. When they left, the air felt electric, charged, burning up the air between them.

“Arthur’s old fashioned, he believes in chivalry, I don’t. I have things to do, thank you for coming Mr. Mayor, you can go, see yourself out.”

Emerson turned her back on him, walked down the hall and marched up the stairs to her apartment.

Okay, you know what? All evening long she treated him as if he were invisible. Dylan didn’t like it, not one bit. He followed her. Emerson gasped when he stopped just short of her bedroom. He leaned on the doorframe, never taking his eyes off her.

“Get out!” she said with a tremor in her voice. “This is what you wanted, for us to be polite strangers, you’re the Mayor, I’m one of your lowly constituents.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to!” she said bristling, “You don’t think I’m good enough, fine, point taken, there’s the door.”

“Emerson Sophie Riley, you know damn well what you mean to me. I’m not leaving until things are settled between us.”

Her green eyes threw sparks at him. “There is no us Mr. Mayor.”

He frowned. “Will you stop calling me that!”

“Would you prefer your majesty? Well guess who’s not getting on her knees and bowing down to your throne? That would be me.”

Damn she’s magnificent! “I’m not leaving,” he said with a challenging glint in his eyes.

Emerson’s jaw set stubbornly. “Fine, suit yourself, I’m taking a shower, out of my way.”

Chapter 9

Emerson stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. She furiously yanked her dress off. Who the hell does he think he is? Mister high and mighty Chambers! What did he expect her to do, strip for him? Turn to mush if he touched her? Hell no! Go back to mansion hill and stay there! She turned on the shower. In seconds, steam filled the room. Still fuming, she stepped under the hot spray. Arrogant bastard! Well she showed him!

The bathroom door opened. Emerson inhaled sharply. She didn’t lock it! Before that thought registered, Dylan opened the curtain and stepped right in the tub with his clothes on. What the?!

His blue eyes flashed. “Let’s get a few things straight, you are mine.”

“You can’t just-” she sputtered. Recovering her shock, Emerson covered her breasts with one arm and below the waist with the other. “How dare you, get out, get-”

“Come here.”

She was in his arms before she drew her next breath. Dylan cupped the back of her head and kissed her with hot, unrelenting passion. His mouth slanted over hers masterfully stroking her tongue with his until she trembled in his arms. His hands slid down her wet back, up her ribs and cupped both breasts. They fit perfectly in his hands. His head dipped. He sucked her nipple with hot, wet suction, rubbing his tongue across the rosy bud. Under a waterfall of hot spray, Emerson threw her head back as he devoured her breasts.

“Dylan!” she breathed. Her hands flattened on his broad, muscular chest and slid into his coffee brown hair as he feasted on her body. The pleasure sent shockwaves through her. Emerson undid his belt, pulled down his zipper and sprung his long length free. Dylan held her up against the slick wall and thrust deep inside her. She was wet, tight and ready for him. Emerson’s back arched as he plunged in and out with powerful strokes of his muscular body. Dylan licked her nipple and took it between his teeth. She writhed beneath him as he rode her in the hot steam. He thrust deeper and deeper pinning her to the wall until she screamed. The orgasm roared through her. Dylan could only hold on as she took him over the edge. He came so hard, he hissed her name, as aftershocks pounded through his body. It was the hottest sex of his life.

After a long, playful shower, they made love again, this time in her bed. Dylan knew this was way beyond physical pleasure. He watched her sleep, arrested by the sight of her beauty. Wispy tendrils of red gold hair brushed her rosy cheeks and creamy shoulders. She slept with the hint of a smile on her lips. Damn if he didn’t put it there, making sure she was thoroughly satisfied again and again. Dylan played with her fingers. He couldn’t stop touching her.
Dear God, I love her!
The truth hit him right between the eyes. Love for her came at him like a freight train and there was nothing he could do to fight it.   

   Fear caught him by the throat. The political arena was like a gladiator facing a pack of wild animals dead set on ripping flesh apart.

Dylan discreetly had a background check done on her. Her dad was in jail for multiple felonies for theft and fraud. Her aunts, uncles and cousins were drug dealers and gang members. Her mom was in and out of rehab. He inwardly groaned. There were enough skeletons in Emerson’s closet to make her a malicious target for reporters. He couldn’t expose her to the cut throat political arena. With her family tree, she’d get eaten alive. He had to protect her.

Dylan committed her face to memory. He wished to God things were different. Leaving her was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He got dressed quickly and snuck out like a teenager.

Chapter 10

He never called or responded to her texts. In less than twenty four hours, Emerson heard the rumors. Dylan’s ex-girlfriend, Lea Saint James was in town.

Emerson’s heart refused to believe it. Dylan wouldn’t do that to her, not after the sweet passion they shared. She knew he loved her even though he never said it. Her conviction swayed when she saw him walking hand in hand with Lea. They were back on. The twins, Susie Q and Penny May confirmed it in their blog. At first, Emerson thought the pain would kill her.

She couldn’t confide in her friend Sawyer. Her dad was terminally ill. Gran had to be kept in the dark. She would calmly load her Smith & Wesson 38 special and shoot Dylan’s dick off, Mayor or no Mayor.

Harper would understand and be a shoulder to cry on. They’d watch a
Star Wars
marathon, eat buckets of ice cream and curse men everywhere. Before Emerson could ask her friend, Donavan asked her out to dinner. It was the perfect diversion.    

Skid row stretched for several blocks in a seedy, gang ridden area of downtown Austin. The homeless, mentally ill, drug addicts, criminals and runaway teens slept on slabs of concrete, under highway bridges, in make shift tents draped with rags or torn trash bags. Emerson gave out bags of food to the hungry and Harper administered first aide and medical treatment. Other members of their team were scattered throughout helping anyone who needed it.

Hours later they sat in the back seat of a black SUV. A volunteer drove, another sat up front. Emerson’s wide green eyes looked troubled. “Hey, are we okay?”

Harper didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “If Donavan asks you to dinner, say yes.”  

“Harper, our friendship means more to me than any man, are we okay?”

“Yes.” And this time she meant it. Harper squeezed Emerson’s hand. “You are beautiful inside and out, why wouldn’t he want you?”

Emerson frowned. “I could say the same thing about you.”

Harper snorted. “You’re beauty, I’m the beast.”

“Stop it,” Emerson hissed, “You keep putting yourself down, you are amazing.”

The volunteers talked in the front seat and jammed to the radio. They sped along I-35, dodging crazy drivers and big rig trucks.

“My biological father used to call me Raven.” Harper rarely talked about him. Emerson held her gaze.

“Why did he call you that? Because of your black hair?”

“No,” Harper whispered, “He said in ancient times, ravens were ugly, bad omens, evil, they meant death and so did I.”

Emerson gripped her friend’s suddenly cold hand. “The devil is a liar and so is your sperm donor. I wanna punch him in the face.”

Harper smiled. “Me too.”

They spent the rest of the drive catching up on old times. After a while, they drifted into companionable silence. Emerson stared out the tinted window. She tried not to think about Dylan, God knows she tried. Her subconscious betrayed her every single night. He showed up in her dreams – deliciously ripped, kissing her endless, making hot sweet love to her. She’d wake up breathless, aroused and yearning for him every which way. Then she’d realize it was only a dream.   

Chapter 11

Emerson went to dinner with Donavan, determined to banish Dylan from her thoughts. They dined at the only fancy restaurant in town. Peachtree Lane had a stately Victorian décor, live piano music and fine Southern cuisine. Lit candles with scattered rose petals adorned the tables. The waiters wore crisp black tuxedoes and white pristine gloves.