She Drives Me Crazy (9 page)

He crossed the room, taking his seat at the table as he reached for another of the doughnuts. After he bit into it, he deftly licked at a spot of powdered sugar on the corner of his much too kissable lips.

Emma's world rocked a little bit as she watched. Hit hard with a sudden flash of sense memory, parts of her body tingled, reliving the way that tongue of his had felt. How he'd adored her, exploring every inch of her, introducing her to parts of her body she'd barely had a passing acquaintance with.

He'd been better than anyone after. There hadn't been any befores,
or
many afters, probably for that very reason. Once she'd had something so good, she'd wanted nothing less than perfection. Unfortunately, no other man had ever been able to give it to her.

She forced herself to focus by jerking her injured ankle. Hard. Pain dissipated the momentary haze of horny dementia.

"I worked in the public defender's office in Atlanta for the first year after I passed the bar," he explained. "Then I heard this job had opened up. My mother was still here…"

Emma didn't ask about his father. She knew full well how Johnny and his brother had felt about him.

"She's not getting any younger. Besides which, like I

said, Daneen had moved back to town with Jack, and he was getting older. I thought the kid could use more people looking out for him." His tone grew tight. "Obviously my brother wasn't bothering."

She skipped that subject, too.

"What happened to Mr. Early? He was the prosecutor forever."

"He got tired of it and decided he wanted to be public defender for a while." A look of amusement crossed his face. "Between the two of us, we manage to keep Sheriff Brady from doing too much damage. At least, whenever I can pry Cyrus Early's fishing pole out of his hands long enough to get him to show up in court."

Ahh, there was the key. Johnny was still finding ways to do what he always did—help people in need, while also thwarting the local authority. Leave it to him to find a rather unique position from which to do it.

"I'll bet your mom loves having a county official for a son," she said. She hadn't met Nick and Johnny's mother too often, but she'd been impressed by the woman's innate kindness and obvious love for her two boys.

He nodded. "That makes it worthwhile. She retired, you know, a couple of years back. When I was in my senior year at Georgia State my father was killed."

"I'm so sorry," she murmured.

She hadn't ever met Johnny and Nick's father. Neither one of them talked about him much, and Nick had always insisted she never come out to their small farm on the outskirts of town while they were dating. But anyone who lived in Joyful had heard the rumors about the man, as renowned for his drinking as he was for his mean temper.

"Feel sorrv for the woman whose car he crashed into when he was driving home drunk that night," Johnny said matter-of-factly. "She miscarried her baby."

She shook her head, not sure how to respond. Johnny didn't sound bitter, merely aloof. She wondered again what it must have been like growing up as the son of a man the whole town considered the most useless—and mean—of all the trashy Walker clan.

"Now, Em," he said, settling back in his chair and staring her full in the face. "Why don't you tell me exactly what you've been doing for the past ten years?" He reached for his coffee. "And why you've come back to Joyful."

Jimbo understood her limitations as a single mom and was usually flexible. Today, however, he was insistent. He'd called last night asking her to come in. Her dismay at having to work on a Saturday had been equaled by her annoyance at the interruption of the phone conversation she'd been having. She'd been getting an earful about the high-and-mighty Ms. Emma Jean Frasier.

She couldn't believe the stories. The town thought Emma was the owner of the new club, Joyful Interludes. Therefore, they figured, she must be the mysterious "porn star" advertised on the billboard. Something about her going to the city and making dirty pictures had made perfect sense to the gossipers. They'd connected point A to point B and come up with a big whopping
X
.

Daneen didn't know much about any porn star rumors, but she honestly didn't think Emma owned the club. Jimbo had handled the sale of the property, she knew that because he'd made a boatload of money off it. He was still representing the new owners here in town. The checks that came across her desk from the holding company building the club were nice and regular.

Surely she would have seen Emma Jean's name
somewhere
by this point if she was involved in the project.

Or maybe not. Jimbo was playing this one awfully close to his chest, so she supposed anything was possible. Still, remembering Emma Jean's prim and proper teen years, and her town matriarch grandmother, she doubted the story was true.

But that didn't mean she didn't enjoy gossiping about it.

She swallowed a bit of guilt in her throat because of the way she'd stolen Nick away from Emma Jean in high school. Then she shrugged. Emma Jean could have had any guy she wanted. She didn't have to go after Nick Walker—the one Daneen had been after forever—the minute she hit town!

It was just too bad Daneen had eventually gotten him. Nick had been one hell of a lover, but not quite as gullible as most teenage guys. She'd learned that the hard way when he'd started reading up on pregnancy during her second trimester. That'd been the beginning of the end. Because even if he was a big goofy teenager and a bad student, he sure hadn't had any trouble with basic math. He could easily count to nine—nine
months
. Then he'd figured out the truth.

"Mom, why can't I go to the park for the morning? I know some of the guys'll be there." Jack emerged from his room and met her at the front door of their little house, the one Daddy had helped her buy when she came back to town.

She glanced at her son as they walked out. "I've told you, you're not going to hang around in the park like a juvenile delinquent. Your last name might be Walker, but you don't have to act like one." At the frown on his face, she cursed her quick tongue. "I'm sorry, babe. Listen, I don't mind you being alone for an hour after school, but not a whole weekend morning."

"What happens when school lets out in a couple weeks?" he asked with a knowing grin. "You don't need to waste money on a baby-sitter all summer. How about we decide together, like two mature people, that I'm old enough to take care of myself?"

She laughed as they got into her car. Jack…what a wheeler-dealer. Just like Jimbo. "How about we don't and say we did?"

He rolled his eyes and nagged her all the way to the office. When they got there, Daneen was both surprised and relieved to see her father's cruiser parked outside, next to Jimbo's Lincoln. "Look, Pa-paw's here. Maybe he'll take you back to the station to hang out or something while I work."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Last time he let me radio Deputy Fred and tell him a spaceship landed in the Wal-Mart parking lot."

"That's not very nice," she murmured.

Fred was a decent man. Nicer than most men in this town. He always treated her like a lady and was very protective of her, even though she'd made it clear she was not going to follow her father's advice and go out with him again like she had a few times in high school.

Her father. Whew. If he ever found out about her and Jimbo, there'd be pure hell to pay. He seemed determined that Daneen was still his "innocent" little girl who'd been done wrong by a rotten Walker.

One of these days, he'd probably find out the truth.
All

of it. Daneen looked forward to judgment day more than that one.

Inside the office, Daneen pointed to a chair and whispered for Jack to sit in it. Walking toward Jimbo's door, she heard her father's voice. "Damn, you swore she'd never come back."

"I didn't think she would," Jimbo replied easily. "But it doesn't matter. Everything's filed, legal and tidy. And what's she going to do about it? Huff and puff and blow the place down?" Jimbo gave one of his big, hearty politician laughs. "Dan, my friend, you need to relax. I've got things under control."

Wondering who they were talking about, Daneen knocked lightly on the office door. "Hello, there," she said as she walked in and smiled in greeting.

"There's my baby girl," her father said, giving her a bear hug. Then he glanced out into the reception area and spied Jack. "Come on in here, boy. Mayor Boyd was telling me your mama had to work today. I was hoping you might be able to spend some time with me."

Jack ambled into the room, as if he wasn't busting with excitement about getting to spend time with his blustery grandpa. "You gonna let me turn on the siren in the squad car?"

"You betcha," Dan said with a big laugh. "You believe this kid, Jimbo? My grandson knows how to work all the angles."

"Quite a boy Daneen's got there all right," Jimbo replied.

Daneen nudged her son in the shoulder. "Say hello. Then say goodbye. We got work to do."

"Yes, son, we surely do," Jimbo said, hunkering down eye to eye with Jack and giving him one of those big, genuine smiles. Then he looked up at Daneen and gave her an intimate look. "I don't know what I'd do without your mama."

Daneen clenched her jaw, ordering herself to be strong. Unfortunately, her whole body was reacting to that warmth in his eyes. She cursed her own weakness, knowing it was inevitable.

Well, at the very least, she would make him beg for forgiveness for his inattentiveness the previous afternoon. Because she suspected this morning she'd be helping Jimbo file away more than just legal deeds.

She was blissfully happy. She was successful. She was thrilled to pieces.

She was lying through her teeth.

Ernma looked stressed, tired and worried about more than a twisted ankle. She definitely wasn't the happy-go-lucky Em he remembered. Besides, whenever Emma Jean Frasier lied, her cheeks turned bright red. He knew it was true, he'd seen it firsthand in the old days. Right now she looked like a circus clown, complete with two bright spots of face paint on her pale skin.

Even with that, she still looked better than any woman ever had to him. And he'd admit that to her about the same time he'd admit he'd once owned a Michael Bolton CD.

"So, life's a picnic and you're thrilled as can be. And you came back to Joyful for what?" He tilted one corner of his mouth up into a humorless grin. "To go to a reunion with a bunch of people you told to go straight to hell the day you left?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What would
you
know about the day I left? You were long gone by then, weren't you? Probably still driving like a maniac back to college."

He nearly laughed. No, the day she left he'd been circling Joyful in his old, beat-up pickup. He'd spent the morning after prom contemplating slamming into a tree. It was either that or drive back to her house and kick in the door. Then he'd have demanded to know why she'd felt the need to rip his guts out the night before. Because, by making it perfectly clear that she'd settled for him when she'd really wanted his brother between her pretty white thighs, that's essentially what she'd done.

"Yeah," he finally retorted. "While you were busy packing."

She didn't deny it, but went quiet, as if thinking about that night. He couldn't help remembering, either.

He hadn't shown up in Nick's stupid, too-tight tux and taken her to the prom with the intention of nailing her. He'd planned to take her arm, let her hold her head up, then walk away, having righted the wrong Nick had done her.

But, no, she'd made him believe she needed more. Hell, any guy would have gone for it when a girl as beautiful as Emma Jean had made it clear she wanted him. Since Johnny had been half-gone on Emma since the first time he'd seen her, he hadn't thought twice. No question, he'd been a Walker through and through in those days. Hot blood combined with no frigging common sense.

Emma hadn't, however, been playing by the rules. Because, dammit all, she'd been a virgin. And virgins did
not
decide to give it up to a guy on the spur of the moment.

Which meant she'd planned all along to lose her virginity on prom night.

To his kid brother.

Christ, it still rubbed him raw to think about it. What made it worse was that he and Nick had been close at the time. Two boys who'd raised each other when their workhorse mother wasn't around and their drunk father didn't give a shit.

He couldn't let himself think about Nick too often, now, other than to curse his refusal to be involved in his son's life. It wasn't Jack's fault Daneen had trapped Nick into marriage. Johnny figured Nick must never have forgiven Daneen for costing him Emma. Because, as Johnny had learned, his brother and Emma Jean Frasier had been a lot more serious than anyone ever knew.

A part of him had died that night when Emma had looked up at him with guilt-filled eyes and started crying over her stupid necklace. She'd gone all to pieces over a hunk of dime store, gold-plated jewelry, which had broken when they'd made love.

Nick had given it to her.

Her tears had rushed out while they lay there, still naked, in the gazebo. The look in her eyes when she'd told him Nick had asked her to wear the necklace on their honeymoon—had sent Johnny over the edge.

From mild discomfort to major guilt trip. Combined with a heaping helping of that hot-blooded Walker temper.

He'd already been tearing himself up with regret. Bad enough to have stabbed his kid brother in the back by relieving his girlfriend of her virginity. To find out Nick had planned to marry Emma was worse. The real shocker, though, judging by the way she was crying, was that Emma wanted to marry his brother. Which left Johnny feeling completely sucker-punched.

He'd reacted like any hormonal nineteen-year-old who'd found out the girl of his dreams was in love with a jerk who'd cheated on her. Badly. Meanly. Saying things he wasn't proud of.

Then he'd left her there, naked and crying, illuminated in the spotlights of a bunch of cars when the rest of the senior class showed up for a late-night, after-prom party.

"Jeez, Johnny, did you even change out of your tux before you headed back to campus?" she asked, interrupting his waltz down the not-so-pleasant lane called Memory.

"You sure you want to go there?" he asked, knowing she heard the challenge in his voice. "You ready to talk about prom night?"

The color rose higher in her cheeks. "No. I want to forget it ever happened. It was one more lousy teenage moment to go into the record book of lousy teenage moments."

Lousy? Huh-uh. Not on her life. It might have ended badly, but the sex itself had been phenomenal. The best he'd ever had up until that night. Though he could admit it only in the confines of his brain…the best he'd had
ever
.

That was probably the one and only time he'd made love to someone, rather than just having sex. With Emma Jean, he'd allowed himself to fall into her fantasy and imagine he was the hero she'd thought him to be. He'd wanted to be the stupid, sappy Prince Charming. For a while, there in the gazebo, he had been.

Then they'd both turned into warty green frogs. Him with his temper. Her with her unspoken admission that she'd given it up to the wrong brother.

"You sure have a selective memory, Emma Jean," he said, leaning toward her across the kitchen table. "Because I somehow doubt 'lousy' would have prompted your… shall we say, appreciative and
vocal
,. .reaction that night?"

Though she shot him a contemptuous glare, she couldn't disguise the deepening pinkness in her cheeks. No, Miss Emma didn't like to be reminded she'd been a screamer.

"I'm all grown-up now, Johnny. And I've learned orgasms aren't gifts that have to be bestowed by small-town studs who like to
take
off five minutes after they
get
off."

He pushed his chair back and stood, stepping closer until he practically towered over her. "Yeah, and I guess you have a lot of experience now to know."

Professional experience.

Emma tilted her head back and stared up at him, refusing to back away though he knew he was crowding her. Not a bit cowed, she also rose to her feet, until they were practically eye to eye, "That's none of your damn business."

Her face was so close, her warm breaths touched his chin. Her tousled, bed-messed hair begged to be tangled between his fingers, brushing his cheeks…or spread across his groin. The image and the sweet, morning smell of her skin proceeded to suck every thought out of his head.

Take a big, giant step back.

He leaned closer. "I have a vested interest when you're standing here lying like a politician caught with an intern."

She obviously chose to misunderstand him. "I'm not lying about it being none of your business."

He gave her a taunting smile. "No. But you're lying about it being lousy. Admit it, that moment was one for the record books."

Stubborn to the last, she set her lips in a straight line. "You're delusional. It wasn't that great, Johnny." She gave an exaggerated look of pity. "I don't blame you, it wasn't your fault. You were a teenager. Heck, I don't imagine any teenager could be classified as
good
."

Shaking his head, he tsked, letting her see his amusement. Not to mention his determination. "You're the one deluding yourself," he told her. "Which I can prove anytime, anywhere."

Her eyes flashed at his mildly voiced threat, and her lips parted on a quickly sucked-in breath. God, those lips. That mouth. That tiny hitch of a sigh she couldn't hide.

His threat hadn't scared her. It had excited her. And with that realization, his last tiny bit of resistance evaporated.

Hot blood. No friggin' common sense.
Just like old times
.

Before he even realized he was going to do it, he crowded close to her, and growled, "Like right here, right now."