Sweet Talk Boxed Set (Ten NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes Research plus BONUS Novel) (66 page)

She winced at the lightly-made accusation, because it was probably true. “More than likely. Then, again, that whole kiss thing has been on my mind ever since you brought it up.”

He smiled at that. “The power of suggestion.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

His expression turned serious. “Not a chance. You were the one with doubts. Do you still have any?”

“About a million,” she told him candidly. “But I want to know, Jaime. I want to feel something again.”

He beckoned her closer, leaving it to her to come to him. When they were sitting thigh to thigh, he caressed her cheek again, his eyes locked with hers. His thumb brushed across her lower lip, stirring sensations she hadn’t felt in years, hadn’t expected to ever feel again.

And then his mouth was on hers, his breath a whisper against her skin. Her heart, empty for way too long, filled with a heady mix of anticipation and joy that sent her pulse scrambling. Her brain tried to argue against this, but it was too late. She wanted the sweet touch of Jaime’s lips, the lingering caresses that left fire in their wake, the whispered endearments that seemed to reach into her soul and replace the cold with unexpected heat.

Jaime was the one who broke off the kiss before it swept away the last of their control. He didn’t let her go, though. He managed to stretch out on the sofa and pulled her snugly into his embrace. The cast was a definite hindrance, but they made it work.

Emma sighed as her head rested against his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat soothing and reassuring.

“Did you get what you came for, Emma?” he asked softly.

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I did, and then some.”

“It’s just the beginning, you know.”

She did know, and while that terrified her, she was suddenly eager to see where it might lead…even if it ended in heartbreak.

Chapter Six

Early Saturday morning Emma awoke to the sound of birds chirping like crazy and to the smell of real coffee brewing and bacon frying. Since she kept her windows shut tight much of the time and rarely cooked, it took her a minute to realize it wasn’t a dream. She was still on Jaime’s sofa, snuggling up with a soft throw that had apparently appeared sometime during the night.

She wandered through the house till she found the bathroom, washed her face, used a finger and some toothpaste to freshen her mouth, then padded into the kitchen, coming to a halt in the doorway and simply staring.

Jaime stood precariously balanced on one crutch in front of the stove cooking breakfast. Wearing only his customized jeans, a pair that had clearly been well worn even before he’d taken scissors to the one pants leg, and a snug white T-shirt that emphasized his muscular build and his tan, he looked totally male. She had to pause to catch her breath at the glorious sight, then forced herself to focus on the riskiness of his awkward balance.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” she scolded. “You could fall and break something else.”

He turned and a smile broke across his face. “You’re worried about me,” he gloated.

She frowned at his interpretation. “I just don’t want any broken bones on my watch.”

“Maybe another broken bone or two wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It would give me an excuse to hang around Chesapeake Shores even longer. And if you felt guilty, you might volunteer to be my personal angel of mercy.”

Emma gave him a disbelieving look. “Pretty extreme measures just to have me wait on you. And I guarantee you wouldn’t be getting a breakfast like this one if the cooking’s left to me.”

“Your cooking skills aren’t what interests me,” Jaime informed her with a wink before turning back to the bacon.

Emma used the time to catch her breath for a second time and to try to find safer conversational ground. “Isn’t Mick’s company headquartered here? Shouldn’t that be all the excuse you need to stay in Chesapeake Shores?” she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee, then breathed in the scent of the strong brew. A man who could make coffee like this might be worth considering. When she was writing well, she drank gallons of the stuff.

“True, but my responsibilities for the company are on the other side of the country,” he reminded her.

He gave her a quick glance as he spoke and she thought she detected real regret in his eyes. Was that because his work was elsewhere and he wished otherwise or because he was stuck here even temporarily? She couldn’t be sure. “Do you miss it? The work, I mean. Or the Pacific Northwest, for that matter.”

He glanced at her. “Do you miss writing?”

“Of course, but it’s not exactly the same, is it? The minute you’re able to move around freely, you can jump right back into your work. You can go back to Seattle and pick up where you left off.”

“Some of it, sure. The actual construction just requires me to oversee the work, make sure it’s on schedule, that nobody’s skimping on the workmanship, but that’s just a necessary part of the process. Like yours, my real work is creative.”

“How so?” she asked, genuinely interested. She’d watched houses go up, even housing developments, but she’d never thought about the forethought that went into the process. Or how that might compare to what she did, building a story from a tiny nugget of an idea.

“I have to find parcels of undeveloped land that inspire me, then design the sort of homes that might work there without spoiling the environment. Neither Mick, Matthew nor I design little cookie cutter developments. We take pride in creating communities that fit in with their surroundings, the way Chesapeake Shores is exactly right for this bayside setting. That’s not coincidence. It takes vision and commitment.”

Emma smiled at the passion in his voice. “You do love it.”

“From the first rough sketch to the last nail that’s hammered in,” he agreed. “And I love going back when the homes are sold and the businesses thriving to see how it’s all come together, to see the events on the town greens and the kids laughing and running on the playgrounds in the parks.”

“You’re clearly as devoted to it as Mick notoriously is,” she guessed.

“Was,” he corrected. “Mick’s retired or reformed. At least that’s what he likes to tell everyone. He’s come to understand that his family is his greatest achievement, not this town or any of the others he’s designed and built.”

“But you haven’t made that leap,” she suggested.

Jaime smiled as he piled crisp bacon on a plate and handed it to her to set on the table, then turned his attention to scrambling eggs. He seemed to be happy to have an excuse not to respond to her right away.

Eventually, when she simply waited for an answer, he said, “You have to have a family to put them first.”

“And you don’t?”

“My mother’s still in Florida. I get home to see her once a year at least. No wife, if that even needs to be said given what’s going on between you and me. No ex-wives, either. No kids. Mick had Megan, five kids, two brothers and their families, to say nothing of Nell waiting for him right here, no matter where we were working. At least he did until Megan tired of it and walked out. Those were dark days, apparently. I joined the company after the divorce. Once they reconciled, I took on more responsibilities to free up Mick’s time.”

“Which left you with none of your own,” Emma concluded.

“Pretty much. This enforced inactivity, which Mick likes to refer to as a vacation, is the longest break I’ve taken in more than a decade. I snatch a three-day weekend from time to time, but that’s about it.”

“And that’s the way you want it?”

“It’s always been enough,” he said simply, then gave her a lingering look. “I might be re-thinking that, though.”

Emma trembled a little at the intimacy in that look. Did she want to be responsible for anyone even considering shaking up their lives, especially when her own was such a mess? “Not on my account, I hope,” she said lightly.

“Why is that?” he asked, setting the eggs on the table, then adding a plate of scones he’d obviously gotten from Nell. “You have something -- or someone -- in your life I don’t know about?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I want a relationship.”

“You did last night.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t remind me of that,” she chided. “Maybe all I wanted was inspiration.”

His expression darkened slightly. “Did you find what you came for, Emma? I was teasing last night, but now you have me wondering.”

“I won’t know till I sit in front of the computer again,” she said blithely, though the truth was she’d gotten a whole lot more than she’d bargained for. The kisses they’d shared, the warmth of sleeping in his arms on that cramped sofa, those things had set off a yearning for something she’d never expected to want again.

Yearning wasn’t the same as reaching for, she told herself sternly. And sparks in the night weren’t the same as reality in broad daylight. She was wise enough to know the difference, strong enough to resist the temptation.

At least she hoped so. And given Jaime’s disappointed expression, she had to wonder if he’d ever give her another night like the one they’d just shared.

***

Jaime didn’t know whether to be exasperated or relieved by Emma’s mixed signals. One thing he did know was that the key to understanding her might be in that book she’d written. He didn’t want to stir up talk by asking Shanna if she had the book and without his computer, he couldn’t order it online. Instead, he called the office and had one of the secretaries who luckily was in on a Saturday morning if she’d look up the closest chain bookstore. He jotted down the number and made a call to order a copy.

“How quickly do you think you can get it to me?”

“We have it in stock,” the clerk said. “I can put it aside and you could pick it up today.”

“I can’t get there,” he said with real regret. “I’ll pay for a courier to bring it to me, if you can arrange that. I’d really like it today, rather than waiting for it to get here by mail next week.”

“That’s awfully expensive,” she said.

“It’s important.” he told her. “Can you arrange it?”

She put him on hold, then came back and promised it would be there by early afternoon. “One of our part-time employees lives not too far from there. He said he’ll bring it. You can work out the payment with him, if that’s okay.”

“Perfect,” Jaime told her. “Thanks so much.”

Even though it might be hours before the book turned up, he showered and dressed quickly, then poured himself another cup of coffee. After that he settled on the porch to enjoy the late morning breeze and wait for something that might tell him everything he needed to know about the woman who’d gotten under his skin so darn quickly.

***

Emma wrote as if the house were on fire and she had to get finished before the walls collapsed around her. She couldn’t recall ever feeling such a sense of urgency, such passion for the words that were flowing onto the screen. She was almost breathless by the time she reached the end of the chapter and knew in her heart that readers would be the same.

She sat back, drew in a deep breath and smiled for the first time in ages at the work she’d accomplished. Jaime had apparently been right about one thing. Apparently she had needed some new people and new experiences in her life to re-charge her creative  batteries. Not Jaime, specifically, she assured herself, but what he represented: a fresh outlook, new inspiration.

There was, of course, a huge danger in buying in to that notion. Jaime would be gone in a few weeks, a couple of months at the most. Then what? Would her well dry up again? She shuddered at the thought, not only of losing focus, but of Jaime out of her life as quickly as he’d entered it.

At least he’d brought her out of her shell enough to see the world around her again, to start appreciating what she had, rather than focusing on what she’d lost. She’d have to be sure to thank him for that before he left for good.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an impatient knocking on her front door and the sound of her mother’s frantic voice calling out to her. Emma hurried to open the door.

“Mom, what on earth? Is everything okay?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Jessica said, sucking in a deep breath as she visibly tried to calm herself. “Why weren’t you answering your phone? I’ve been calling for hours. I was sure you’d fallen in the shower and broken something or who knows what. I’ve been worried sick.”

But not worried enough to leave the library early to come to check, Emma thought, noting that it was now just past the library’s early afternoon Saturday closing time.

“I was writing,” she told her mother. “My phone was charging in the other room. I never heard it ring.”

Her mom put a hand to her chest. “Please don’t do that to me again, Emma. You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said sincerely, giving her mom a hug. “Come in and I’ll fix you a cup of tea, or would you like something stronger. I have a bottle of wine I could open.”

“Tea would be nice.”

She followed Emma into the kitchen. “I called until late last night, too. Were you writing all night?”

Emma flushed. “No.” She described the evening she’d spent at the pub with Nell and Dillon, avoiding any mention of Jaime. “Then I stopped by to visit a friend.”

“Mr. Alvarez?” Jessica asked hopefully.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“I’m glad,” her mother said, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “I think he’s good for you. You’ve seemed happier since you met him.”

So, her mother had noticed it, too. She couldn’t be sure if that was good or terribly worrisome.

“Is there any potential for something more?” her mom pressed. “Will he be staying in town?”

“Only until his bones heal and he’s done some therapy,” Emma said. “He’s helping out with the planning for this year’s fall festival, so I imagine he’ll stick around for that. Sooner or later, though, he’ll go back to his real life.”

“And where will that leave you?”

“Right here in Chesapeake Shores, Mom. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to take off and leave you.”

“Actually I was hoping you would,” Jessica said. “Not that I don’t want you around,” she added quickly. “But I would like to see you sharing your life with someone again. Writing is isolating enough without distancing yourself from everyone just to protect your heart.”