Best of Three (Counting on Love) (8 page)

Which, of course, she realized. “Take a left on seventeenth.”

“We’re going to do it this way?” Nate asked, resigning himself. It was Emma. Of course they were going to do it the hard way.

“I’m not letting you loose on Shannon without backup,” Emma said.

“I promise I don’t need backup.”

“Ha-ha. No dice, Doc,” she said, tipping her water bottle back. “You’re stuck with me tonight.”

Yep, it looked like he was.

Fuck.

He took a nice long look at those tanned legs in the short skirt, then turned his attention out the windshield and worked on ignoring the woman that he’d never been able to ignore before. And that had been before he knew that her mouth fit his perfectly and that making her groan was the most fun he’d had in a long time.

Emma worked hard on not grinning.

Nate didn’t want to want her. That was clear.

But he did want her.

Thank god. For one, Nate wasn’t immune. He was damned good at hiding it, but he wasn’t immune to her. For two, she’d finally kissed him and it had been everything she’d assumed it would be and then some.

Damn, the guy could kiss.

She wasn’t nearly done with him yet.

No matter what he thought.

“It’s the blue house on the right,” she said as they pulled onto the street where the party was going on tonight. “But don’t park right in front. We don’t want them to see us.”

They shouldn’t even be on the block if they didn’t want to be noticed. This neighborhood was made up entirely of older homes that were rented out to college students. No one here drove a big old truck like Nate’s.

“Who lives here?” Nate asked.

“A friend of Shannon’s who graduated high school last year,” Emma told him. “She and her roommates are having a party tonight and Shannon mentioned that she and Michael would stop by.” She swiveled in her seat. “Now what? You can’t go up to the door and ask to be invited in and I’m not sure peeking in the windows is a good idea.”

“His car is here,” Nate said, pointing out the front window. “We’ll wait here.”

“If you want my opinion,” she said. “I say you give all of this up and trust your son. I’d be happy to do what I can to take your mind off of things.”

Nate looked at her with the weird combination of heat and resignation she’d already seen more than she liked tonight.

“If you’re bored, you can feel free to get out.”

“And go where?” she asked, looking around.

“You could call one of your sisters to come get you. Or a cab,” Nate suggested. “I’ll pay.”

He’d love that. But now she knew that he wasn’t simply frustrated with her. He was
sexually
frustrated. She couldn’t contain her grin at that.

“If I leave, how will you find them when they take off from here?”

“I’ll follow them,” he said simply.

He was nuts. He was hot. But he was nuts.

Emma sighed. “We’re going to have a stake out? Seriously?”

“This way I know where they are and when they leave and where they go next.”

“You need a hobby.”

“I can call a cab for you right now,” he said, withdrawing his cell phone.

“Nate, you want me to stay.” She kicked off her shoes, stretched her legs out and propped her heels on the opposite seat. “You’re going to need a character witness when the neighbors call the cops to report the stalker in the truck.”

He looked up and down the street. “I’m not thinking this street has a neighborhood watch, you know?”

She chuckled. “Fine. We’ll stake the house out and stalk your son. Whatever. I didn’t have anything else to do tonight.”

He looked over. “Maybe
you
need a hobby.”

“I have hobbies. But my doctor says I have to wait six more weeks to get back to them.”

He pulled a long breath in through his nose and Emma bit her lip to keep her smile to herself. She wasn’t nearly as promiscuous as she let on, but it seemed that comments about her reported wild sexual habits riled Nate up the easiest, so she made a point of mentioning her reputation whenever possible. The comments had the same effect on her brother, but that wasn’t nearly as fun.

“We should get in the back seat,” she said after a few moments of silence.

He looked suspicious. “I don’t think so.”

She glanced around the neighborhood. “Seriously. The back windows are tinted and back there it’s harder to see us anyway. We can’t just sit up here. We’re not exactly inconspicuous,” she added, using his word from earlier.

He glanced around too. Then he muttered, “Shit.”

She grinned and started to climb into the back of the crew cab. A truck this size had a roomy back seat but she wasn’t opposed to sitting closer to Nate.

“For god’s sake,” she heard, then felt his hand on her butt as he pushed her over the seat. “Nice view,” he muttered.

She grinned even bigger, glad he’d noticed. Her short skirt didn’t cover much even without things like climbing around in pickups.

She settled into the seat on the passenger’s side and watched Nate get out of the truck and open the door to allow him to climb up into the backseat. Oh. That would have worked too, she supposed.

He didn’t look happy as he slammed the door, shutting them in together again. But he didn’t say a word. For five minutes. And he was clearly trying to keep his eyes on things outside of the truck.

Screw that. This neighborhood was
not
that interesting.

“Stalking your son is crazy, you know.”

“I know.”

Her eyes widened. “You do?”

“I’m sure this is an overreaction,” he admitted.

Emma was impressed he realized that.

“But Michael is avoiding me. He hasn’t eaten a meal at home and has answered only two phone calls from me since I found him in bed with Shannon.”

“Oh. Yikes,” Emma said quietly.

“If he isn’t going to be responsible and mature about telling me where he’s going and what he’s doing, then I’ll find out another way. If he doesn’t want me to follow him, then he’ll be frank with me. If he’s not, he leaves me no other choice.”

That wasn’t entirely true, of course, but she could at least agree that Michael could be handling this better too. One thing she could say for Shannon—she didn’t always make the best choices, but she was honest about what she chose.

A few more minutes ticked by and Emma felt herself growing restless.

They were clearly going to sit here for an unspecified amount of time. They could at least try to make it fun.

“Want to make out?” she asked.

“No.”

And up until about two hours ago she would have believed that. But that hadn’t been a banana in his pocket at the concert. Okay, she could play along. What else did she have to do?

“Want to talk about our hopes and dreams?”

He looked over with one eyebrow up. “No.”

Good. What was she going to tell him? About that dirty dream she’d had about him a month ago?
That
would be a bad idea.

“Then it’s Truth or Dare.” Which also probably wasn’t brilliant.

Nate rolled his eyes. “And if this was my thirteenth birthday party, I might think that was a great idea. But it’s not. And I don’t.”

“Come on. We’re just sitting here. What else are we going to do?”

“Sit and silently stew over the fact that my son is rebelling against everything I’m trying to do for him.”

She stared at him. “Um. No. Truth or Dare.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll play by myself,” she said, thinking fast. “And I pick dare.”

“Emma.”

She ignored him. Staking out the house where Michael and Shannon were having a good time with their friends was ridiculous. And sitting this close to Nate after kissing him in the theater was making her want to take all of her clothes off.

She was well known for being bold and without boundaries. Time to put some of that to good use.

“Emma,” she said. “I dare you to take the finger vibrator out of your purse and use it right here in the back of this truck.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. Then she reached for her purse.

“No!”

The word was loud and firm and Emma instinctively pulled her hand back, turning wide eyes on Nate. He looked like he was in pain. And really mad.

“I have to. It’s a dare.”

Nate didn’t scare her. He made her frustrated and horny…but not scared.

“If you take a finger vibrator out of your purse, I’ll throw your ass out of this truck.”

Her tummy flipped. Damn, there was something about that commanding tone of voice that made her get all hot and tingly.

“Oh, come on, Nate. You have to admit that there’s a not-so-little part of you—” her gaze dropped to his lap, “—that wouldn’t mind seeing this.”

His eyes narrowed. “You pull a vibrator out and I will physically remove you from this truck and leave it up to you to find a way home.”

Whether it was the expression on his face or the tone in his voice or both, she believed him.

She sighed and slumped back in her seat. She wasn’t sure how far she would have gone with the vibrator. Honestly, with Nate sitting there watching her? All the way. No doubt. And it wouldn’t have taken long to get
all the way
with his eyes on her.

“If you don’t want me playing with myself…” she let the words, and their double meaning, hang in the air between them for a moment, “…you’re going to have to play with me.”

Not at all subtle, but she wasn’t very good at subtle. She sat watching him.

His jaw tightened and she saw him clench a fist. Finally he said, “Fine.” Though it clearly wasn’t fine with him at all.

She pounced. “Were you in love with Michael’s mom?”

He frowned at her. “I didn’t say truth.”

“You want dare?” she asked. She really wanted him to answer her question though. “’Cause I’ve got a good one.”

And it was going to involve either him taking his shirt off or kissing her again. Or both.

He narrowed his eyes. “Fine, truth.”

She wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed. She did want the story of him and Michael’s mom. But damn…that kiss was going to haunt her for a long time.

“Were you in love with Michael’s mom?” she repeated, her fingers curling into her leg where her hand rested on her lap.

There was a long moment of silence. Then he said, “Yes.”

It was incredibly stupid that his answer bothered her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“One answer per truth. I know the rules,” he said, pinning her with his gaze. “My turn. Truth or dare?”

This was usually easy for her. She always took the dares. And she wanted to know what Nate might dare her to do. But it might involve walking home or sitting and not talking for an hour or something. “Truth.”

He paused, as if that wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Hmm, what had he wanted her to do? Did it involve the mini vibrator? Maybe she should change her answer.

“What’s with the need to constantly shock and awe?”

She sat up straighter. That was an honest-to-goodness truth-type question. It wasn’t some flippant thing like
do you prefer chocolate or caramel sauce spread all over your body?

“Uh…” Did she answer truthfully? Of course. She’d never fudged on a truth or a dare in her life. She took a deep breath. She knew herself. She could answer this. Even if she wasn’t sure why Nate was asking. “My dad died when I was thirteen. Amanda was fourteen, Isabelle was twelve and Olivia was eleven. It was completely overwhelming for my mom.”

“I thought Conner stepped in to help,” Nate said.

This was going to be a conversation? Interesting. She nodded. Everyone knew that her brother Conner, older than Amanda by three years, had assumed the role of father figure to his sisters. A role he still took seriously. Which made things interesting for his friends, Ryan and Shane, who had fallen in love with two of Conner’s sisters.

“He did. But he was seventeen. A kid himself. At first he threw himself into things like figuring out the finances, repairing the roof and getting a job.” Her dad’s death had been unexpected and he’d been young, so things were definitely in disarray. She went on, “That first summer we were all signed up to do different things. But Mom and Conner couldn’t handle us going in four different directions. To make things easier, they sent us all to the same summer camp.”

“But you didn’t want to go.”

“No. Camp isn’t my thing.” She’d planned to spend her summer hanging out with Dena, going to the mall and flirting at the pool.

“I’m shocked.”

She ignored that. “Not only did we all go to camp together, but we were known as the Dixon girls. We were always lumped together. No one ever figured out our individual names. They’d call me by one of my sisters’ names all the time. Finally, I got sick of it. We were playing sand volleyball and one of the boys called me Amanda. I went under the net, tackled him and rubbed sand in his face until he’d repeated my name ten times.”