No Denying You (17 page)

“I had a few stalker lapses but, strangely enough, I do trust him. I even love him most days, stick up his ass and all.”

Declan chuckled. “Well, there you go. If you can love someone at his worst, then loving them at his best is a breeze.”

Emma turned her head and without any of the jealousy she had felt earlier, she said, “Ella is a very lucky woman to have you.”

Brant stalked around his hotel room scowling at his silent cell phone. How long did it take for Emma to get home from his brother’s house? In the back of his mind, he knew he was being unreasonable. Declan was crazy about Ella, and so there was no one that Emma was safer with than his besotted brother. It still rankled him, though, that Declan was with her while he was miles
away in a hotel room alone. Shit, like he had a right to be pissed. Hadn’t he just gotten off the phone with Alexia? She had pretty much listed every good time they had ever had together. The one thing she hadn’t touched on was how horribly things had ended between them. A part of him would always be tied to her, but since getting some distance between them, he was starting to feel more and more certain Alexia belonged in his past. Emma was his future. And damn it, he needed to hear her voice.

He looked down at his watch only to see that she had had more than enough time to make it home. He punched in her number and waited while the phone rang numerous times before an obviously sleepy Emma murmured, “Hmm?”

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you call me when you got home? You are home, aren’t you?”

On a big yawn, she said, “Yep. All safe and sound.”

He sighed in exasperation. “I was worried about you.”

Her voice still sleepy, she cooed, “Ah, that’s so sweet. I miss you. I wish you were here.”

Brant dropped back on his bed, feeling the stress of the evening drain away. “I miss you, too, baby. Trust me, I’d much rather be with you than with Mark.”

He smiled as Emma giggled. “You guys aren’t spooning, are you?”

“God, no.” Brant shuddered. “He’s up in the
penthouse suite probably doing unspeakable things to some woman he picked up in the bar while I’m down here where the poor people stay.”

“So how’s Boston?” Emma asked.

Brant could tell that she was struggling to stay awake. He’d love to be there curled around her while she slept. “I’m in Greenville, remember?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. When are you coming home?”

“Probably sometime next week.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Emma said.

“Me too, baby. Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Mmm, ’kay. I love you.” The breath hitched in his chest as she ended the call. He wondered for a moment if he was hearing things that weren’t there. No, he knew what she had said. Surprisingly, he found himself hoping that she meant the words and that it wasn’t just the result of too much alcohol. There were two women wanting to be a part of his life but there was only one from whom he wanted to hear words of love—the woman who had just spoken them to him.

Emma looked in the mirror the next morning and gasped. She vaguely remembered someone having the bright idea of doing homemade tattoos the previous night. Shit, she was pretty sure she had started it. Right in the middle of her chest was a crooked heart with the word “Bran” in the middle of it. Oh my God, she’d even left the
T
off the end. Great, everyone knows you only eat bran when you have digestive issues.

Even after a scrubbing so hard she had taken off a few layers of skin, the Sharpie still prevailed. She picked a shirt that covered up most of her drunken body art and left for work. She went straight to Ella and Beth’s floor to see their tattoos. Beth had to pull her into the office to show hers since it was on her breast. “Nick loved it. He said he would be turned on all day knowing it was there.”

Ella pulled her shirt down, showing another crooked heart with “Declan” written in the center. “All right,” Emma huffed, “why am I the only one with a misspelled name on my chest? Who did it?”

Beth looked guilty before raising her hand. “I think I did. Don’t judge me, though. I had had way too much to drink by then.” Turning to Ella, she said, “You weren’t drunk, why didn’t you stop us? Or at least encourage us to use something a little less permanent than a Sharpie?”

Shaking her head, Ella replied, “Hey, I tried to talk you out of it, but you were both bound and determined to go through with it, even when I pointed out that the marker was permanent. So . . . I did what any good friend would do, I joined you.”

Emma grimaced. “Well, I’ll go back over mine with some bleach and a loofah tonight. I’m sure it’ll be gone in a few days . . . or weeks.”

Suddenly, the mood sobered as Ella asked, “Have you heard from Gray? How is Suzy doing?”

“He said she’s feeling better but would like for everyone to wait to visit. I wanted to go by there during lunch, but he told me she’s not really ready for visitors yet,” Beth finished, looking miserable. “Part of me wants to go anyway, but I know how my sister is. She likes time to think things through and I feel that, regardless of my wanting to see her, I need to give her space.”

Emma put her arm around Beth, giving her a brief hug of understanding. “I would love to see her, too, but I think Gray knows what she needs now better than we do, so even though it’s tough, let’s do this for her.” Before she could comment further, the phone on the desk rang and Beth jumped to get it. Emma walked out with Ella and they promised to have lunch the next week.
She took the elevator to her floor and felt a pang of disappointment knowing that Brant wouldn’t be there waiting as he usually was.

She worked steadily through the morning and grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch, eating at her desk while playing Candy Crush. She was almost bored enough to call her mother—almost. Instead, she settled for her sister. She could still get the same gossip from Robyn but wouldn’t be forced to answer a lot of awkward questions as she would with their mother.

Unfortunately, Robyn was too busy to do more than say hello and talk for a few minutes about her upcoming vacation to Sebastian Inlet on the other side of Florida. Her sister spent most of her spare time surfing, and Sebastian Inlet had some of the best waves in the state. Emma might be decent on a paddleboard, but she had never been graceful on a surfboard. Their brother, Boston, was a natural surfer with the whole surfer-dude stereotype to go along with it. Her siblings had been more blessed in the natural athleticism department than she had.

At that moment, she envied them both. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Robyn worked and surfed. She dated but had no desire to be in a serious relationship with anyone. Boston . . . well, whatever he did, he seemed pretty happy with it. Emma, on the other hand, had slept with her boss, going so far as to have a fake relationship with him and then fallen in love with him. She now realized that she had probably been in love with him for a while. Her uptight, boring
boss was so unpredictable now that she had no idea what he would do next. He was hot, then cold and just generally all over the place. His ex-fiancée was living with him and she had vague recollections of him calling last night, sounding pissed off that she had been with Declan. God, her life was a mess.

The weekend loomed long and lonely before her. That had never bothered her before, but with Brant gone and so much up in the air, it was hard to enjoy the thought of more time on her hands. She decided that she would stop at Walmart on the way home and splurge on some chick flicks and snacks. She would spend the weekend in style . . . on her couch . . . wearing pajamas . . . not brushing her hair . . . and not bathing. Solo girl time was just what she needed.

Emma’s shopping cart was full and she was trying to decide between
The Proposal
and
Sweet Home Alabama
when she heard, “Ahem, death by chocolate—how original.” Emma jerked her head up to see Brant’s sister, Ava, standing on the other side of her cart. She liked Ava, but she could have lived without the tall, beautiful blonde witnessing her descent into the Lonely Friday Night Syndrome. Ava was probably on her way to some swanky party and had stopped at Walmart for breath mints. It was obvious from Emma’s shopping cart that she was here to stock up for a long weekend.

When Ava picked up the king-size Cadbury chocolate caramel bar from her cart and lifted a brow, Emma
grabbed it back. “Back off, that’s the last one and I’ll fight you for it,” she warned in a teasing tone.

Ava smiled. “It’s all yours. So . . . no plans tonight?”

Emma gave her a sarcastic smile in return. “What gave that away?”

Instead of answering immediately, Ava studied her for a moment before asking, “Do you want to go somewhere and have a drink? I was planning to buy a bottle of wine and head home, but I’d rather have some company.”

“Er . . . sure. That sounds good.” Actually, Emma was about as excited over the prospect as she had been over her root canal, but they both knew that she had no other plans. Maybe it would be better than going home and gaining five pounds in one evening. Like her brother, Ava was generally reserved, but tonight she looked as lost as Emma felt. There were cracks showing in her cool veneer, and Emma was just curious enough to want to find out what was going on.

Ava pointed to her cart. “Do you need to make your purchases first?”

Feeling guilty, Emma looked around to see if the coast was clear before she slid her cart against the wall on the next aisle. If she were lucky, it would still be there when she came back after her drink. There was no way she could unload a hundred dollars’ worth of food and movies in front of Ava. Luckily, other than the knowing grin that twisted her lips, she didn’t comment. “Should I just meet you somewhere?”

She really didn’t want this bonding experience to include a car trip together if she could avoid it. She could just imagine the look on Ava’s face when she saw the less than perfect condition of her car. It may have been a few months—or years—since she had cleaned it out.

“Charlie’s is just down the block. Why don’t we walk?” Even better, Emma thought to herself. As soon as things became too awkward between them, she could escape back to Walmart, grab her shopping cart and continue on with her miserable evening. Perfect. She was absurdly grateful that she hadn’t been home to change yet and still looked reasonably respectable.

Conversation was difficult due to the traffic rushing by, so Emma decided to forgo any small talk as they walked to the restaurant. When they were seated at a table and had ordered drinks, she found herself shifting uncomfortably under Ava’s curious gaze. “So . . . um . . . do you come here often?”
Oh my God, did I really just ask her that? It sounds like I’m trying to pick her up. Why does she make me so nervous? Just think of her as Brant with a vagina.

Looking amused, Ava said, “No, not really. Mac and I usually go to a small Irish bar close to my place when we want a drink.”

“Was he busy tonight?”

Ava looked down, drawing circles on the smooth tabletop with her fingers. “He’s always busy now. I should know that life moves on, and it seems so has he.”

Emma wasn’t sure how to respond. The other woman seemed so sad that she felt compelled to offer some comfort. She reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Ava. Were you . . . Did you break up?”

Ava looked surprised by the question. “There was nothing to break up. I never let us start dating. Mac is too good for that.”

Confused, Emma asked, “Too good for what?”

“Me,” Ava whispered. “He’s too good for me.” Emma was too surprised to comment. As she was thinking of a reply, Ava shook her head and locked her blue eyes on Emma. “So, you and Brant?”

Words of denial sprang to Emma’s lips at once, but then she dismissed the notion just as quickly. Why bother? She doubted that Brant was giving his sister a play-by-play of their relationship status, but Ava was far from stupid. She had to know that something was going on. Besides, it might be a mistake, but she needed someone to talk to. Blowing a wisp of hair inelegantly out of her face, she said, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Ava surprised her again when she gave her a satisfied grin and said, “That’s good; I’m glad. He’s been alone for too long. He was never good at that, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone, including himself, that he was fine. Brant was meant to be married and have a family. He shouldn’t have been saddled with so much responsibility so early on. Our parents were irresponsible and the old man was a sadistic bastard.”

Despite herself, Emma was intrigued. Other than throwing out bits of information here and there, Brant wasn’t the type to disclose a lot of personal stuff. She knew that his parents were killed in a plane crash and that his grandfather had raised them afterward. She also knew that Declan had been the wild child and had enlisted in the military at eighteen. “So . . . um . . . your grandfather was tough on you?”

Ava’s laugh was devoid of any real humor. “He didn’t care enough to be tough. Yeah, he expected certain things . . . certain behavior, but mainly he just wanted us to stay out of his hair. His household staff raised us. Of course, we were all teenagers when we came to live with him, so it wasn’t like we were in diapers and dependent upon someone for all of our care. What we were was traumatized but he never considered that.”

Emma felt tears prick her eyes and hastily wiped them away, knowing that Ava wouldn’t appreciate the show of sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she offered, not knowing what else to say.

Ava looked at her blankly for a moment before draining the last of her drink and standing abruptly. “I’ve got to be going if you’re ready.”

Emma stood and followed her out. They made their way back to Walmart in silence. Emma had lost the urge to go back inside for her shopping cart full of sugar and movies. Suddenly this seemed more like a bottle of Jack Daniel’s kind of evening. When she stopped at her car, Ava turned and squeezed her
shoulder. “I meant what I said. Brant needs you. Don’t let him push you away.” Then with those words, she was gone.

Emma drove home more confused than ever. Her cell phone started ringing just as she shut her apartment door behind her. She saw Brant’s name on the ID and smiled. Apparently, she was irresistible to the Stone siblings tonight. “Hey you,” she answered.

A moment of silence followed her playful greeting before Brant said, “Hey . . . Em.” Emma thought he had been close to using an endearment, but had settled for shortening her name. “Where are you?”

“I just attempted to gorge on chick flicks and chocolate at Walmart but was saved by your sister. I’m home now.”

Brant chuckled that sexy laugh that she loved so much. “I don’t even know what that means, but I’m glad you’re safe. So you saw Ava?”

“Yep, I ran across her in the store and we went for a drink. I . . . I don’t think she was having a good evening.”

“Why not?” Brant asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I’m not sure, but I think it has something to do with Mac and his new girlfriend.”

“Shit,” Brant sighed. “I figured that was going to hit her hard.”

“I’m confused about that situation,” Emma admitted. “If Mac cares about her and she obviously cares about him, then why can’t they just admit it?”

“It sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? Mac has never made a secret of how he feels for my sister, but Ava hasn’t been able to accept it. I know you’ve heard enough to know that she had something happen to her when she was younger. She was . . . raped by her prom date. I don’t want to go into everything that happened afterward, but I will say that Mac found her and a bond was formed between them. My grandfather handled everything terribly and Ava has spent the years ever since then angry and grieving.”

“Oh my God,” Emma breathed. “She said that Mac was too good for her. She blames herself, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Brant bit out. “Everyone made damn sure of that. The bastard who did it never faced any consequences. I know regardless of what she says, Ava has done nothing but look over her shoulder since then. Luckily, Mac will always watch out for her even if he isn’t with her.”

They ended up talking for hours that night before finally giving in to the need to get some sleep.

That evening started a pattern that continued every night while Brant was away. Emma spoke to him a few times during the day on business matters but at night, it was all personal. They shared their earliest memories all the way up to the present. There was also a point each evening when their words turned teasing and sexual. Emma had never had phone sex, but when Brant asked her to touch herself and imagine it was his big hands sliding through her slick folds, she hadn’t been able to resist. Their calls always ended with a release
for them both. Somehow it felt like she was falling for him even harder during these regular nightly phone calls. When they were finally together again in person, she didn’t think she would be able to resist ripping his clothes off regardless of where they were. God, she was so ready to have him back home.