Rise and Shine (Shine On Series, Book 2) (17 page)

S
ilas was frozen. Even his toes were beginning to feel numb. He supposed Trick was right. They should have pulled off somewhere for the night but he was eager to get back to Emmie. He was so close, there was no way he was going to stop an hour or so from town.

“You still mad about her staying at home?” Trick asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Silas answered. “I don’t know why she won’t just listen to me.”

Trick thought that over for a second. “You probably wouldn’t like her so much if she did.”

Silas had a feeling that was true and he didn’t really know what it said about the future of their relationship. She was infuriating. He spent his days giving people orders and she didn’t even respect what he wanted when he was worried about her safety. He had imagined hundreds of horrible things that could have happened in the days since he’d seen her.

“Yeah, well. That might be true. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to give her a piece of my mind when I get there.” Silas huffed. “She’s got a thing or two to learn.”

“You really plan on us just showing up there in the middle of the night?” Trick asked.

“Yep.” Silas ground his teeth together at the thought of the upcoming confrontation.

**********

Spotty lay curled at the end of her bed, keeping her feet nice and warm on this cold night. She had three quilts piled on top of her; her nightgown was soft and comfortable. The moonlight was shining in through the window over the bed. Emmie was sure it was after midnight and she was still awake, wide-awake. Her body was tired but her brain wouldn’t shut off. Silas… her father… Max… Walter… apple pie… it ticked from one problem to the next like a wheel spinning in a circle. The harder she fought it, the louder it became. She tossed over to her side and adjusted the blankets. Spotty gave an audible groan and stretched his paws, his claws dug into her calf through the covers.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. It was not a nice look. She had a feeling if he could talk he would be swearing at her. He didn’t like his sleep disturbed. She stuck her tongue out at him and laughed. Her life had gone to the dogs. Literally.

All at once Spotty stood at attention. His ears pointed straight up and he let out a loud whimper. In one motion he jumped from her bed to the top of the loft stairs.

“Spotty,” she whispered, her heart pounding. What had he heard?

The dog was already pacing in front of the door. When she reached the stairs he turned and gave her a loud bark.

“Shh… get back here.” She warned him. Emmie listened intently. She heard the hum of a car engine pulling up to her house. She froze, almost afraid to move. There was no reason for someone to be here at midnight. She heard a car door slam and then another. Emmie tiptoed to the pantry and grabbed Ronnie’s old shotgun, gripping the wood tightly.

Heavy footsteps beat up the stairs and stopped at her door. Her doorknob shook. Thank God she’d locked it before bed. Emmie tiptoed over to the window and pushed the gun through the curtains. Hopefully her guests would see it.

“I hear ya out there,” she shouted. “Who is it?”

“Oh, shit.” She heard a familiar voice followed by laughter.

“Emmie, it’s me. Put the gun down,” the second voice said calmly.

Emmie relaxed immediately and a smile spread across her face. She ran to the door and unlocked it.

“Well, that was an unexpected welcome,” Silas said dryly as he moved through the door.

“And I’ll just take that,” Trick said, grabbing the shotgun from her hands.

“So sorry. You liked to have scared me and Spotty to death.”

Cold air blew into the open door before Trick pulled it closed. November could be cold and tonight was unseasonably cold. Their cheeks and noses were bright red. She reached up and put a hand against Silas’s cheek.

“You’re freezing Silas. Let’s get you guys warmed up.” She walked over and added another log to the fire and stirred it around with the poker. The flame blazed bright, the room filling with a warm glow. Trick walked over and put his hands near the flame. Spotty walked over and sat at his side, lying down and turning to his side, clearly begging for a belly scratch.

“You guys hungry? Or do ya want some tea or coffee?” she asked them.

Silas shook his head slowly and licked his chapped lips. “No.” Then his eyes looked over her body—from the tips of her bare feet, up her sheer nightgown, to the way her hair fell from the ribbon she’d used to pull it back. Silas wrapped his arms around her waist and breathed in her scent. He let out a long breath. Emmie relaxed in his arms. Silas leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. His mouth found her ear. “I missed you,” he whispered. Emmie smiled. She leaned back to see his face and laid a hand softly on his cheek.

“So, I take this to mean you’re not still mad about my time in the clink?” She laughed at her own joke before she even got the words out.

He sighed. “No. I guess I’m not. You still mad at me because I acted like an asshole?”

She was surprised by the genuine look of worry in his eyes. “I guess I’ll let you off the hook this one time.” She grinned and pulled away from him. Silas reached out and caught her, pulling her into his chest and gave her another slow kiss. Emmie felt her body turning to mush.

Trick walked by and dropped his coat and hat on one of the kitchen chairs. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together loudly. He reached out and grabbed his brother by the arm. “Well, is her lesson over? Because if you’re done giving her a piece of your mind, I sure would like to take her up on that offer of food and hot coffee. I’m cold and starving.”

“A lesson?” Emmie put her hand on her hip and cocked her eyebrow up at Silas.

Chapter Twenty-three

S
ilas turned to face his brother. “Shut up, Trick.”

He wanted to be angry with him but had a hard time finding the words because he knew his brother was right. He should be angry with her. She didn’t listen to him. And there she was standing there now smiling, with her hand propped on her hip, eyebrow up questioning him. Questioning him? He put his hat and coat down next to Trick’s and walked the length of the kitchen taking a moment to think, however, the kitchen was less than six paces in length.

“And what lesson was I to learn, Silas?” she repeated laughing.

“Trust me, you don’t want to do this now.” He shook his head and went into the den. He replaced his brother’s spot in front of the fireplace.

He had his feathers all up in a ruffle about something. Emmie wasn’t good at letting things lie. She started to follow him but decided not. Trick was hungry and the hot tea would be good for both of them. She heated the kettle and went to the pantry for tea. What in the world would set him on edge? She had a feeling it wasn’t still the arrest. She pulled out eggs and bacon then warmed two cast-iron skillets.

Trick watched her move around the kitchen. He wondered if she knew her lips were moving as she thought to herself. Her brow was wrinkled. She was trying to figure out his brother’s mood swings. It hadn’t occurred to him that his comment would throw his brother back into his bad mood. Trick thought the planned argument had been canceled. He felt a little guilty. He took a couple of steps to narrow the space between them. She gave him a look that told him to keep his space. Clearly she didn’t appreciate his comment either.

“Sorry,” Trick whispered. “I didn’t think he’d still be mad.”

“Something I can do for you, Patrick?” she asked, moving around him to grab a fork to turn the bacon.

“Here,” he said, grabbing the fork. “I can finish this. Go talk to him.”

“I don’t want to. He’s got his dander all up about something and I don’t even know what it’s about. If anyone’s going to be mad, it should be me. I didn’t hear from him all week.” She put a press down on the greasy bacon.

Trick grabbed the fork from her hands without another word, turned her, and gave a gentle push toward the den. He was not stepping any deeper into this fight. “I can do this. Go.”

Emmie sighed, handed him the towel she’d used to hold the pan, and laid out a few plates for him on the counter. She poured three cups of coffee, passed one to Trick, and headed toward the den with the other two.

“Psst,” Trick whispered with a grin, “it’s not you. He’s just got a lot on his mind. Just give him one of your pretty little smiles and he’ll get over it.”

Emmie grinned and rolled her eyes as she headed into the den.

“If ya kiss him, he might even forget about it, eh?” He winked.

“Shut up, Trick,” she repeated one of Silas’s phrases but her smirk took the sting out of the words.

Silas had moved to the rocking chair nearest the fireplace and was toying with a lighter. She put the coffees on the small table nearest him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, never looking up at her.

She took the lighter from his hands and set it next to the coffee. Then she balanced on the edge of the rocker. When he looked up at her she gave him her best smile. It was a full-tooth Hollywood-magazine sort of smile that she was pretty sure she’d never given anyone. She figured maybe Trick was right. How many times had she had bad days and just needed a smile only to come home to grouchy Ronnie.

Whatever Silas had expected, it hadn’t been that. He belly laughed on impulse and then quickly fought to regain his composure, rubbing his eyes to hide their amusement from her. When he stole a glance a few seconds later she smiled again. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked up at her.

“Emmie, what in the hell are you doing?” he asked.

She answered honestly. “Trick said if I smiled at you, you’d just forget about whatever it is your all mad about so…” She smiled again.

“Ugh…” Silas shook his head, “Don’t take advice from Trick.”

“Okay. So out with it then,” she said, tapping the arm nearest where she was perched on the chair.

“I told you to stay with Ava, Emmie. You’ve got to respect what I say,” he said seriously.

“But you asked me to do that before we knew Ava was going to Chicago. I was not going to stay at her house by myself. That would be weird. Plus, it’s been good to be back here.”

“You could have told me.”

“I didn’t know how to talk to you. You could have called me.” Her voice came out a bit louder than she had intended.

“I’ve tried,” he shouted. “You’re never home.”

“Oh.” She frowned.

“Speaking of which, where have you been?” he asked with an arched brow.

Her heart pounded. She couldn’t tell him about Max and the moonshine plan yet. Not until she’d worked out the details. She wasn’t going to keep it from him. She just couldn’t tell him yet. Besides, as it looked right now there was no plan for her making apple pie. That gave her an idea. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it yet. Of course, Silas could be the missing piece. He had connections to the shine and the speaks. She bet he even knew how well her goods had sold. She would just need to think of a way to ask for his help. But as she took in his irritated expression she decided tonight wasn’t the time to ask him to help her get back into bootlegging.

“Well, I’ve had dinner with Walter’s family and I had to get some supplies for the house. Things were pretty dirty here… and I had almost no food.” She put her arm out to acknowledge the house. “It had been empty for over a month while I stayed with you at Ava’s,” she answered with as much of the truth as she could tell him right now.

He nodded and took this all in. A crease settled through his brow. “Food. Emmie, where did you get groceries?”

She bit her lower lip and looked at the fire for a moment while she thought how to answer. Emmie had to own up to this. She wanted to know if Silas had done that to Mr. Thomas. Had he left the man in a wheelchair?

“Damn it, Emmie. Did you go back to that store?” he said annoyed. She shifted her weight to stand but he beat her to it. Only as he stood the chair rocked backward, throwing her off the side and causing her to tumble into the wall.

Her thin white nightgown tangled at her legs as she tried to stand. Embarrassment, emotion, and uncoordinated movements stopped her from making the graceful recovery she attempted. So she sat there for a second and rubbed the back of her head where it had hit the wall.

“Oh God, Emmie.” Silas jumped over to where she was sitting in the floor. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?”

She put a hand up to stop him. “I’m fine. Just let me gather my pride for a second and I’ll get up.”

He smirked and ignored her, leaning down and scooping her up into his arms. She tried not to notice how strong he was or the way his muscles felt as he lifted her against his body. She tried not to notice how tall he was when he pulled her to his eye level, her toes still inches from the floor. She tried not to notice the way he made her feel like no more than a feather. She tried not to notice the way his concerned eyes bore into hers. He balanced her weight on one arm and ran a hand through her hair. He should have put her down by now.

He licked his lips. “You okay?”

She nodded. “It was dumb to go there. I’m not going back. But you’ve got to trust me,” she whispered, trying really hard to focus on the conversation… and everything else she was feeling… and seeing… and jeez, he smelled good.