Taming Johnny (5 page)

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Authors: Kaylie Newell

BOOK: Taming Johnny
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“When you finish wiping that down for the fifteenth time,” he said, “come to my office. I need to talk to you.”

Emma froze.
Shit.
“Um…okay.”

He pointed to the counter. “You missed a spot.”

Jerk.

After he left, Emma forced herself to take a deep breath. So he was going to bring it up. So what? That was the mature thing to do, right? In fact, she should have done it first thing this morning.

She stood up straight, put her shoulders back, and walked out the door. As she marched down the hall, she glanced at Sally who was giving her a questioning look.
I’ll explain later
, she mouthed and made a beeline for the lieutenant’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, his dark uniform crisp and starched, his badge glinting in the morning light.

“Sit.” He motioned to a chair directly across from him and Emma did as she was told, perching on its edge like a prim little school girl. She had to force herself to relax and lean back like a normal person with a regular heartbeat.

“I wanted to start off by apologizing,” he said. His blue eyes looked clear this morning. Extra sharp.

Emma swallowed. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

“No. In fact, I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“Go on.”

“You were right. I do have…feelings.”

He leaned back and rubbed his chin, never taking his eyes off her. “Feelings,” he repeated.

“Yes. For…um. Uh…”

“For…”

“For you.” There. She said it. And it was just as awful as she thought it would be. She wanted to throw up.

“Ah.” He nodded, his face completely void of emotion. He had a way of doing that. He could turn it on and off like clockwork. Infuriating. What happened to the teasing tone in the break room? “That’s actually not what I wanted to apologize for.”

“It’s not?”

“No.”

Oh my God. Black hole, swallow me now.
“What then?”

“I know it’s short notice, but I need you to go to a DUI conference with me in a few days. I need you there for the computer portion of the classes. Sally can’t come. Has a family function or something.”

Sally!
A family function. How convenient. When Emma remembered to blink, she leaned forward, a sassy answer on the tip of her tongue. Of course he’d think she would have absolutely nothing going on. No life. Not Emma. Or if she did have something, she’d drop everything the second he batted those baby blues.

“So what do you think? Can you go?”

All of a sudden, he looked so heart-stoppingly good in his uniform, so confident and sexy. Or maybe that was just pure cockiness and she was the worst kind of sucker. She muttered the only thing she could think of. “Okay.”

 

Chapter 6

 

The conference was in San Antonio, four hours away. It had always been one of her favorite places as a kid, but she hadn’t been back in years. She had one memory in particular when her parents had taken her to the Alamo on a sultry summer night in July. They’d gotten ice cream cones and walked across the street, trying to imagine the beautiful old building, which was lit up in red, white, and blue, as a dusty fortress where so many had lost their lives all those years ago. It had made an impression.

Emma stood now, looking out the window of her hotel room. It was a nice place. She and the lieutenant, who had the room across the hall, were on the eighth floor, high enough to see over the river walk.

She fiddled with her watch, twisting it back and forth. A nervous habit. She still hadn’t recovered from the drive down. She’d wanted to take her own car, but the lieutenant had been bossy and insistent, as usual.
Why?
he asked.
We’re going to the same place. Kind of makes sense to drive together.
And she nodded, unable to think of an excuse on the spot.

So he’d picked her up that morning and they’d driven in relative silence the entire way. Emma couldn’t think of a time when she’d been quite so self-conscious. Now that she’d outed herself as having “feelings” for him, they were the great, white elephant in the room. His truck was big, thank God, so she spent most of the drive scooted as far away as she could get. Her posture was perfect, prim, and ladylike, and she sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap. By the time they got there, she was exhausted and just wanted to retreat to the comfort of her room. The conference didn’t start until later that evening with a meet and greet dinner, and until then, she planned on lounging on her bed and watching a movie.

That had been her plan, anyway. She’d ended up pacing the floor for most of that time instead. If anyone had told her a few days ago that she’d be spending the weekend in the same hotel as Johnny Street, she would have said they were nuts. But there she was.

Emma looked at her watch again. 6:20, only ten minutes until dinner. Frowning, she glanced at the door. Should she call the lieutenant so they could go down together? Since he’d insisted on driving together, she felt like they were
there
together, thus feeling it would be rude if she didn’t. Then again, this was him. Did he really give a rip?

Deciding against it, she checked her reflection, smoothed her hair, then grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

* * * *

The dining area in the belly of the hotel was freezing. Emma hugged herself, irritated she hadn’t thought to bring a sweater. The guy sitting across from her was sucking down his third beer and talking non-stop. He was a deputy from up north, and judging by the way he was eyeballing her, he was more interested in the women he’d meet there than the actual content of the classes. She’d heard things about these conferences. Some of them could get pretty wild after hours. If only the taxpayers knew.

Emma took a sip of wine. She nodded politely, trying to appear interested in what he was saying—something about squad car computers—but she was too hyperaware of the lieutenant a few tables away. He was drinking a beer, seemingly uninterested in the conversation around him, and staring at her with the same crabby look he’d been wearing that night at the bar.

“So you’re in records, huh?”

Emma glanced at the deputy, who was now assessing her boobs. Her cheeks heated and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, I am.”

“Nice.”

She looked back at the lieutenant, who was taking another drink and nodding in response to something a guy was saying in his ear. His heated eyes shifted from the deputy to her and back again. He didn’t look happy.
Is he jealous?
Even as the thought formed, she dismissed it. He wasn’t interested. He’d made that clear. What she was witnessing now was probably just pissiness.

Emma looked at her watch. Another twenty minutes or so, and she could make a beeline for her room. She was naturally shy and had never been good at mixing during things like this. It felt like high school and she’d hated high school.

“Tell me a little about yourself.”

The deputy was now wearing a stupid grin and beads of sweat were popping up all over his forehead. Someone should really cut this guy off.

“About me?” Emma glanced over to see the lieutenant’s chair was empty. He must have cut out early. She couldn’t blame him there.

“Yeah.”

“I’m really not that interesting.”

“I think you are. I think you’re very, very interesting.”

Gross.
“Well, I work at Richardson PD. I’ve been there a little over a year.”

“Mmm-hmm. And what are your measurements?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding!” He burped. “You really have to learn to take a joke.”

Emma felt someone behind her and turned to see the lieutenant standing there.

The deputy looked up at Johnny. “Oh, I’m sorry, dude. Are you two…here together?”

“Yes,” he snapped, before she could answer. He pulled the chair out and grabbed her elbow, making her napkin flutter to the floor. “Come on, Beaumont. Let’s get some air.”

Johnny led her between tables to the double doors on the other side of the room. Emma slid him a look and was met with his expressionless profile. Apparently he wasn’t ready to offer an explanation. Outside, the balmy Texas evening was probably ten degrees warmer than the hotel. Emma stepped out onto the sidewalk, relieved to be out of the crowded room and away from her obnoxious dinner companion. The warm summer air felt good on her chilled skin. She took a deep breath. The city smelled sweet, if that was possible. Must be the river walk, which was flanked by every kind of flower imaginable.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Didn’t like that guy.”

“Okay…” Maybe she was missing something here. “Anything else?”

“Nope. Just didn’t like him.” He headed down the sidewalk. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“Gonna take a walk. I can’t breathe in there.”

Johnny Street on a summer evening stroll.
Now she’d seen everything. She trotted after him, her sandals clicking on the cement. He stared straight ahead, his hands jammed into the pockets of his khaki slacks, his polo shirt stretched taut over his athletic shoulders. His sandy blond hair was sticking up from the breeze at their backs, his tanned skin flushed from a few too many beers.

They walked in silence, passing families with chattering children and couples with their arms wrapped around each other. Suddenly, Emma had a ridiculous urge to reach out and grab his hand. But, even in her fantasies, Johnny didn’t seem like the holding hands type.

After a few blocks, they finally reached the river walk, the soft white lights from the surrounding shops reflecting off the dark currents of water. People sat on restaurant patios enjoying dinner and the sound of live Latin music from a bar close by. The smell of Mexican food permeated the air and made Emma’s stomach rumble. It was lovely. Exactly how she’d remembered it as a kid.

They came to a stone half-wall graced with pots of hanging flowers, and leaned against it, peering into the water on the other side. Emma glanced tentatively at the lieutenant who was looking away. The muscles in his jaw flexed and relaxed as if he were in deep thought.

“Have you been to San Antonio before?” she asked.

He looked over. His face wasn’t that far away, their shoulders almost touching. “I was stationed at Fort Sam Houston for a while.”

“Ah.” She had known he was in the Army, but he never talked about it. He never talked about anything. “And how was that?”

His lips twitched. “How was Fort Sam? It was stimulating, Beaumont.”

She glared at him and looked back at the water. So shoot her for trying to make conversation. He was so…
difficult
.

“How about you?” he asked after a minute.

“How about me, what?”

“Have you been here before?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And, what?”

“Jesus, Beaumont. And how did you like it?”

“I liked it just fine,” she bit out.

“Don’t want to elaborate?”

She gaped at him. “
Me
? How about you?”

“That’s different. I don’t interest me.”

“And you’re saying I do? Since when?”

“Since…I don’t know. Since you do.”

Well, this was brand new information. She could smell the beer on his breath and wondered fleetingly if he were drunk. That would explain why he was studying her that way. Like she was some kind of problem he had to figure out. His brows were knitted together, his lips firm and unmoving. Unable to help it, she let her gaze drop and wondered what it would be like to kiss them. More than that, what it would be like to have them kiss
her
. All over.

A slow grin spread across his mouth. “Up here, Beaumont.”

She startled and looked him in the eye again.

“That’s better.”

He was teasing her again. He knew exactly how she felt. Probably even knew what she was thinking.
Crimony.
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. And other places.

“So how’s that boyfriend of yours?” he asked.

“What boyfriend?”

“The one at the bar. He seemed pretty into you. I just assumed you were dating.”

“Negative.”

A warm breeze caressed the back of Emma’s neck, moving her hair against her skin. The evening was perfection, couldn’t have been better. And there she was having an almost normal conversation with the lieutenant.

“So you’re a free woman, huh?” He was looking at her lips now. And he was so close.
Oh, dear.

Nodding, she tried to take a deep breath without being too obvious.

“You’re a free woman and I’m a little drunk. So if you want me to stop, you’d better say something now.”

Incredibly, unbelievingly, he leaned closer, his eyes fixed on hers. This close, they were more than blue. They were actually turquoise, like warm Caribbean water. The sultry breeze kicked up again and carried with it his fresh, clean scent. She could make out the fine blond stubble on his chin and upper lip, and wondered what it would feel like against her neck.

“Now’s your chance to tell me to fuck off, Beaumont,” he muttered softly.

Emma closed her eyes.
Am I dreaming? Is this really happening?

Before she could pinch herself, Johnny’s warm, wet lips were on hers.

* * * *

He hadn’t been planning this. As attracted as he was to Emma Beaumont, he hadn’t planned on touching her. Ever.

Women had always been something of a mystery to him. He’d never understood them, never wanted to. He had sex. He didn’t make love. He was just that kind of guy. Somewhere deep down, he wondered if his mother had survived, if he might have learned to be a better man where women were concerned. But she hadn’t and that was that. His aunt and uncle had done the best they could, raising him throughout those tumultuous teenage years, but the bitterness had already set in. The damage was done, and then he’d joined the Army. He’d become cold and distant. He’d turned into a dick.

Moving closer to Emma, he parted his lips against hers, tasting her with his tongue. The kind of women he usually slept with didn’t care about sappy little things like the future. They were just as jaded as he was, maybe even more so. They didn’t expect a call the next day, or flowers on their birthdays. And that’s how he preferred it. But Emma was different.

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