Every Little Kiss (7 page)

As a compromise, she did neither and tried to enjoy her coffee. But that was easier said than done.

“So,” she said, forcing words into the silence in the hope of breaking this spell, “looks like I owe you for saving me again.”

His grin flashed as he breathed out a soft laugh. “Yeah, well, you keep landing in front of me and needing help. I can stop if you want.”

Emma looked upward as thunder shook the house again. “No. I’m good.”

“Then drink your coffee and quit worrying.”

The words startled her. “I don’t. I’m not.”

He tipped his chin down and raised his eyebrows.
“Emma, you’ve been wound up about something every time I’ve seen you. You also look like you’re about to Hulk-smash my nice mug.”

Her eyes widened when she realized he was right—she had the mug in a death grip, and probably had from the second she’d locked eyes with him. She slowly, deliberately pulled her hands away and flexed her fingers. If her cheeks got any hotter, she was going to just spontaneously combust. At the moment, it didn’t seem like a bad option. It would be a respite from this weird, tense
thing
the two of them had. She tried, briefly, to fix it by reminding herself that she’d been comfortable enough with him once to demand he carry her into her apartment.

That didn’t make it any better.

“So I’m a little tense sometimes,” Emma said, her voice calm and even. “It keeps me on track.”

“Uh-huh. You seem like you’re hurtling down that track at about a thousand miles an hour most of the time,” Seth replied, then took a sip of his coffee while she glared at him. Her irritation lessened a little, though not completely, when she saw the mischief dancing in his eyes. He was yanking her chain.

She sat up a little straighter in her chair. “I’m work oriented.”

He looked unimpressed. “I noticed.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What, you think it’s a bad thing that I’m trying to get ahead?”

Seth put up his hands, palms out defensively. “No, I didn’t say that.” His half smile was rueful. “You’re tough to play with, Emma Henry.”

“No, I’m not.”

Her denial was reflexive, and she knew she’d sounded sharp, but Seth just laughed.

“Exactly,” he said.

He was making it difficult to do what she normally did with strangers, which was to hold them at arm’s length until they gave up and left her alone. Maybe it was because, through his own determination, he wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore. Not to mention he’d seen her in the least flattering ways possible twice now and still seemed interested.

What did you do with a guy like this? Hell if she knew. Her last steady boyfriend had been shortly after college, long-distance, and, ultimately, a complete failure. Her relationship with Ben had always been easy—which, as it turned out, had been a problem. For him, at least. For her, it had been a harsh lesson in the dangers of wanting things she couldn’t be sure of, things that required more than her own hard work. She’d thought Ben was safe.

Talking to Seth was easier than it ought to be, but nothing about him felt safe. It worried her that that seemed to be part of the attraction.

He continued to watch her steadily.
You could just about fall into those big brown eyes,
she thought, then felt her cheeks flush with shame.

“You okay?” he asked.

“That seems to be the question of the day,” Emma replied, then took a sip of her coffee to steady herself. “Am I giving off some kind of distress signal I don’t know about? Is it because nobody ever sees me in sneakers? What?”

“You just seem . . . different,” Seth replied. “Not just the sneakers, or that you walked all the way to my neighborhood with a storm coming in. I mean, both of those, yeah, but you also seem a little out of sorts.”

“What are you, Oprah?”

One eyebrow arched. “No. Just somebody who likes you even though you don’t seem to want me to.”

He had a knack for pushing her off balance every
time she thought she was finding her footing with him. Emma frowned at him, though some secret part of her turned to goo at his words. He liked her? Really?

Why?

“You can’t like me,” she informed him. “You don’t even know me.”

He moved his head from side to side. “I bet I know more than you think.”

“That’s not creepy,” she said, and he chuckled, a low, rough sound that flowed though her like hot liquid and pooled deep in her belly. No, there was nothing about Seth the Good Guy Cop that was safe.

“That’s one thing I already picked up on. The dry sense of humor.”

“And you have a weird one,” she replied. “Don’t think I didn’t see the picture you’ve got hanging over your fireplace of George Washington riding a T. rex and carrying a lightsaber.”

“That was a gift,” Seth replied. “I had to put it in a place of honor.”

“A gift? From a guy. It had to be from another guy. No woman would buy something like that.”

“I’ve known a few who would,” Seth replied. “But you’re right. It was from a buddy of mine. Housewarming gift from when I had a place back in Jacksonville.”

“Did he get you something for this place, too? Maybe a Monet but with velociraptors?”

His expression changed to one she couldn’t read, and he fiddled with his cup. “No. He, ah, didn’t come back from his last tour in Afghanistan.”

Emma didn’t think it was possible for her to feel any worse than she did in that moment. “Oh God. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Seth said, though she couldn’t tell from his half shrug whether it really was. “He was a great guy with
a twisted sense of humor. And you’re right. He probably would have bought me something involving raptors if he were still around.”

This was the first time she’d seen Seth look uncomfortable, and the first time she’d found herself wondering about his past. With anyone else she would have let it go. But since he’d been pushing at her from the start, she suspected he could handle a single, simple question. Besides, against her will, she was curious.

“Were you in the army, then?”

“Yeah, I was. Six years. It was enough.” His tone indicated that he had no interest in saying more about it, and Emma was protective enough of her own boundaries that she could respect that in someone else. Still, it left her wanting to know more. Seth had been in the army, and then in a big city. . . . Why come here, apart from the family connection?

“Where are you from, anyway?” she asked, and for some reason that brought back the grin she found boyish and impossibly sexy.
It’s not wrong to admire it if I don’t touch him. It’s not,
she told herself. It felt like complete bull, but it was all she had at the moment.

“Wow,” he said. “Was that an actual question about me? I think I might have heard it wrong.”

“Funny,” Emma said, but she couldn’t stop the pleasure she got from having provoked that smile. “Don’t answer me, then. Or make something up. I won’t know any different.”

“Too late. You’re curious. I can tell. So here’s the short answer: I’m from St. Augustine by way of Brooklyn. Moved right before middle school because my parents wanted out of the city.”

“That’s a big jump,” Emma said. “And I thought I heard a little New York in your accent.”

He shrugged. “I tried to shake it for a while when I was a kid, since I caught so much shit for it at school after we moved. Then I grew, got a little tougher, and quit caring. What I lost of it has just been time and distance, I guess.”

“I like it,” Emma said, and her eyes immediately widened. She hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud. And if the way Seth was looking at her got any warmer, she was going to wind up nothing but a puddle on his linoleum.

“Thanks,” he said, then eyed her cup. “You want another cup of coffee?”

“No, I’m good,” Emma replied with a nervous laugh. She glanced out the window, where the rain had softened from a downpour to a gentle patter. “I should probably get back as soon as my clothes are done. I have—”

“Work to do. I know,” Seth interjected. He didn’t seem irritated, just resigned. It made her feel guilty, which was ridiculous.

“You don’t bring your work home with you, I take it?” she asked.

“I try not to,” he said. “It’s the sort of thing that causes problems if you’re not careful.”

“Hmm.” She drank down the last of her coffee, wondering whether he was passing some sort of judgment on her for working all the time. She’d certainly heard enough about it from Sam and her mother. He was still quiet when she put the cup down, but the tension between them had returned with a vengeance. Flustered, Emma tried to fill the silence.

“It’s a good thing Harvest Cove is so—damn it!”

Seth blinked. “That’s not a way I hear it described very often.”

“No, it’s my phone,” Emma muttered. She grabbed it,
looked at another text from some guy named Ian, and set it facedown on the table with an angry little slap. “Sorry.”

“This has something to do with what’s eating at you, right?” Seth asked. “What is it? Ex-boyfriend? Bridezilla who hired you? What?”

“It’s nothing.” She wasn’t in the habit of sharing her problems, and she certainly wasn’t going to share them with Seth Andersen. Still, she felt that twinge of guilt again when he pushed away from the table and stood, his expression tight.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to go check on your clothes. Be right back.”

Emma watched him go, knowing she’d managed to offend him. He wouldn’t say so, of course. He just didn’t seem the type. But she had a sneaking suspicion that there would be no more impromptu visits with cupcakes after today’s chat. Her hard shell was functioning exactly as intended—he was tired of trying to crack it, so he would leave her be.

Rather than feeling triumphant, she just felt weary and empty. And she’d never felt less like the kind of woman who could happily consider her options, all of which included different flavors of men, for the weekend. All she wanted was peace and quiet, control and sanity. Was that too much to ask? Sure, in time she’d get it back, but she wanted it now. If only she could find a way to make herself look normal and boring again. She couldn’t un-dance the
Flashdance
performance, but there had to be some way to pour water on the newly flickering flame of her notoriety.

Seth walked back in, carrying her neatly folded clothes.

“They’re basically dry. The jeans might need a little more, but I figured you’d want to get going, so—”

The idea hit her hard and fast, and it made so much sense she could almost hear the click as the pieces of her problem fitted perfectly together into a solution. Not a great solution, but a workable one. She didn’t want a boyfriend, but she could certainly use some cover.

“We should hang out,” she informed him.

Something in her voice made him stop in the middle of the kitchen and look at her warily.

“Ah, what?”

“You and me. We should go out sometime. In public. Dinner, maybe.” She thought about her schedule and decided that this could take precedence over family dinner night if it needed to. “What about tomorrow? Later, because I have a wedding, but I could fit it in. Are you free?”

“Is this a trick question?”

She furrowed her brow. “No. I’m dead serious.”

It worried her that he looked so suspicious. Then again, the man caught criminals for a living. Of course he would know she had ulterior motives. “What is this? You’re making it sound like a business appointment.”

Emma tried to figure out an inoffensive way to explain it, failed miserably, then plunged in anyway. “I feel like it might be a good idea for me to get out more. You asked about dinner before. I’m willing as long as we keep it friendly.”

“Okay,” Seth replied. “I’m not sure where this is going, but I don’t feel like anything big has changed since you shot me down earlier in the week.” When her phone buzzed again, he eyed it, though she refused to look at it. It didn’t matter. Understanding began to bloom anyway. And for as nice as Seth had been, Emma caught her first glimpse of the steel beneath his easygoing demeanor.

“Do you need to get that?”

“Nope.” She shook her head and tried for a carefree smile. It felt like a grimace.

“Because it’s been going off a lot, and I’d hate to keep you away from . . . work? Family?” he continued.

“Neither. Just something stupid. I’m ignoring it.”

“Not all that well. You look like you want to throw it at somebody.”

She shifted uncomfortably. It felt as though they’d shifted from coffee to an interrogation. “It’ll stop. Eventually.”

He considered her coolly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with last weekend, would it? Your maybe giving your number to some of the local party crew down at the Tavern. The stories about you and me. The video.”

Her stomach sank. “You saw that?”

He did look slightly sympathetic about that, at least. “Yeah.”

“Great. And
no
, why would this have anything to do with all of that?” But she sounded defensive, and she knew it. Emma prided herself on being good at what she did, but lying wasn’t on her list of abilities. It was a problem that seemed to run in her family.

“Uh-huh. You’re looking for a shit shield, not a date. I get it.” His voice had dropped to a low growl, and he was looking at her with enough ice to freeze her solid. It was the first time he’d been anything less than kind to her, and the absence of his warmth made her feel surprisingly lost. She told herself it didn’t matter, but the words rushed out before she could stop them. She needed to clarify. To explain. To make him stop glaring at her.

“I don’t need a shield! I just . . . You already offered, and the stories are getting—well, I told you how they
would get . . . and my stupid phone today will
not
stop ringing—” She felt her jaw starting to clench until she was nearly growling the words through bared teeth, but Seth cut her off.

“And you think maybe parading around and semiconfirming some of those rumors involving me will make the other stuff stop by what, magic?” When she said nothing, he shoved a hand back through his hair. “Jesus, Emma, seriously? That’s not a date! That’s . . . messed up!”

Her frustration, not all of it directed at him, bubbled to the surface. Maybe it did sound kind of messed up when you said it out loud, but Seth could have just not argued with her and gone along. Why did people always have to make things so difficult? She was competent, damn it! She knew what she was doing! Well, usually. This was new. But her track record with other things gave her hope.