Breathless (15 page)

She glanced quickly around the room, spotting the side exit door a few feet past the restrooms. Dashing the back of a hand across her eyes, she hurried the few steps to the door and slipped out and disappeared into the night.

Gabe threw the rag into the sink behind the bar. Without taking his eyes from the door Emma had just slipped out of, he moved past his brother to the open end of the long timber bar.

“I’ll be back.”

Not waiting for an answer, Gabe hurried to the door and stepped out into the welcoming warmth of the night. He jogged down the path to the sidewalk that ran in front of the bar, peering up and down the road.

Which way had she gone?

Making a hasty decision, Gabe turned to his right and strode down the sidewalk. If she was upset, she’d most likely head home.

At least, he hoped she would.

A faint sound caught his attention. He stopped, tilted his head and listened.

There.

The unmistakable sound of high heels on concrete echoed back to him. Gabe quickened his stride, determined to catch up with her and see that she was all right.

“Emma! Wait.”

The tapping stopped for a moment. It started again, faster this time. She was moving away from him, fast.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Gabe could see her as he rounded the corner toward the town square, Emma hurrying across the road to the park that sat in the middle. He broke into a run, his sneakers an advantage over her ridiculously high-heeled shoes.

He caught her by the shoulder just as she passed beneath one of the antique gas lamps that had been there since the town was first settled. He spun her around, making her stop.

“Why didn’t you stop when I called out to you? What’s wrong, why are you upset?”

Emma was doing her best not to look at him, staring at everything else around them. “Go away.”

Her whispered answer threw him, nearly making him lose his grip on the soft skin of her arm. “Why?” He grasped her gently under the chin, forcing her to look at him. “What made you so sad? Please tell me.”

She bit her lip and pulled it into her mouth to stop its trembling, the action so sensual, so erotic, it nearly knocked him to his knees. He forced his mind away from focusing on her soft, full lips to look at her eyes.

“Why did you follow me? I just want to go home.” Tears trailed silver lines down her beautiful face, glinting in the pale, warm light of the lamp above. The color of her eyes was indistinguishable, the night making them deep, dark pools of sorrow.

“I’ll walk with you.” Gabe raised a hand to rub the pad of his thumb over the traces of her tears, erasing them from her cheek. “Okay?”

Emma jerked back away from him, eyes wide. “No, it’s not okay. I don’t want you anywhere near me. Just go back to the Cow and leave me be.”

Shock raced through him at her words.

“Why? Have I done—”

“Did you tell Ryan that you’d knock him into next week if he put you on the list?” she interrupted.

Gabe blinked at the sudden subject change. Why had Ryan told her that?

“Ah…yes, I did.”

Pain flashed over her features, gone in an instant. “And my house? You didn’t want to help out with it, did you? Your mom asked you to, right?”

An insidious, cold worm of dread began to wind itself around his insides. What was she getting at?

“That’s right. I didn’t—”

Emma cut him off with an impatient slash of her hand. “Don’t. Just don’t. Go back to where you want to be. Where you belong. You’ve done your duty. You can tell Darby and whoever else that you tried. I’m fine from here.”

Confusion at her statements had Gabe reaching for answers. Anything.

“Slow down and tell me what’s going on. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

Emma heaved in a breath and glared at him. “You all feel sorry for me and think I’m pathetic. I didn’t ask for that stinking list. Or anyone’s attention, or lack thereof. You’ve been horrible to me all night. Why?”

Frustrated, Gabe shoved his hair back from his face. “I feel something, but it isn’t sorry. Hell! This is what I’ve been feeling all night.”

His hand, still grasping her arm, pulled her to him, his other hand sliding into her hair as his mouth fell to hers.

At the touch of her lips on his, the park around them fell away.

Taste
.
Touch
.

The soft rasp of her breath and the smooth honey of her lips were everything he’d wanted to avoid, but everything he’d dreamed about since he’d met her. Gabe slid a hand up her arm to cup her face, holding her still for his kiss.

For a moment, he tasted heaven. The promise of sweet oblivion. Emma’s mouth moved under his, opening to his questing tongue.

In the night’s silence around them, Gabe startled himself with his loud moan at Emma’s surrender. At the sound, Emma stiffened beneath his hands, his mouth.

She jerked back, eyes wide in realization. “You bastard,” she whispered. Her hand was so fast he missed seeing it in the gloom. It struck his cheek, slamming against his jaw so hard he stumbled to the side, stunned.

“Feeling like leftovers, Gabe?”

Her sneer was unexpected. The pain in her eyes bewildered him. Heat flamed across his jaw and cheek, burning in response to the attack.

“Leave me alone. I can get home from here.”

She turned and stumbled up the path through the park, her heels tripping her as she tried to run. A loud sob broke free, the sound strangely deadened in the stillness of the night. She stopped, kicked off her shoes, leaving them where they fell, and ran, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

Chapter Eighteen

Emma tripped again, stumbled and fell to her knees. Tears poured down her face, sliding off her chin to land on the cool grass of her lawn.

She was home.

The thought brought a strangled sob with her tears.
Home.
What a joke. Her oasis in the middle of hostile territory. Why had she thought anything could ever be different?

Oh, it mightn’t be fingers pointing at her because of Alex and Sasha, but they were pointing all the same. She rolled onto her back, her chest heaving with the unfairness of it all, and stared at the blazing stars above. First, two people who had meant the world to her—gone. And now this. She thought she’d found a place she could fit in, somewhere she felt welcome, but it was all a lie.

One big, fat, huge lie.

The only thing she could actually count on here in Jefferson’s Crossing was a two-week-old bull calf. Another choked-back, hysterical sound escaped from her lips, mixing with the tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Oh, this is good. Hysteria is
so
my thing.

A goddamn calf and maybe a friendship with a girl she’d known for less than four weeks. That was it. The sum total of her adult life.

Emma brought both hands to her face, hiding from the brilliant light of the beautiful, cold stars above her.

He’d kissed her. Really kissed her. She’d felt it all the way to her bones, the tightening in her belly and the pleasure that had swamped her entire body had proved that under different circumstances—if he’d have tried—she would’ve gone to bed with him. No qualms whatsoever.

What a joke—and the joke was on her.

She scrubbed viciously at her eyes with both hands, trying to rub away the evening, the last month, the last few years. Rolling to her knees, Emma stood and walked slowly to her front porch, dreading what the morning would bring with its bright, shiny light and perspective.

Her behavior tonight had been reprehensible. She’d gone on a date with a man the age of her grandfather—regardless that he’d insisted it wasn’t a date—and had run out on him without explanation. She’d kissed another man, slapped him silly, before running away like the kind of stupid twit she hated watching in B-grade movies.

She’d be lucky if half the town didn’t hate her by daybreak. Gabe included.

What bothered her more than her behavior, though, was the realization that Gabe was coming to mean far more than he should. Far more than was allowable. She had made herself a promise before she left Australia.

No men.
Ever again.

Men led to feelings. Feelings led to responsibility, and responsibility led to pain. She’d had enough of both to last her well into the next life.

Unhooking the long, thin strap of her small shoulder bag from around her neck, she stopped on the top step under her porch light and dug for her keys. Sighing, she slid the key into her lock and turned, pushing open the door to an empty house.

Empty was good.

Empty meant no ties.

Emma shut the door gently behind her. She turned the key and heard the lock tumble into place. She padded down the hall, flicking off lights as she went. She never came home to a dark house. Ghosts lived there.

With the whole house dark, but for her bedroom, Emma stripped off her dress—one that she could now admit she’d worn for Gabe—and dropped it where it fell. She yanked the comforter down and crawled into the bed, flopping onto her back on the pillows. She stared sightlessly at the shadows the lamp on her nightstand threw over the ceiling.

She wiped at her now itchy face. The tears had dried in place, a warning to not place her trust in others. Her emotions were too raw to bother with washing the evidence from her face. She felt across the bed and dropped her hand to the top drawer, sliding it open. Her fingers slid across cold glass. She hooked a finger beneath the frame, pulled it from the drawer and hugged it to her chest.

Her heart hurt so badly. She couldn’t look at it. Couldn’t look at the happy, smiling face of the toddler in the photo. Holding it would be enough. It would have to be. Sasha was gone. There would never be anything else.

A great sob burst from her and echoed in the large room. She stretched out her hand to the lamp and plunged the room into complete darkness.

Chapter Nineteen

Gabe tuned out Ms. Reardon’s endless prattle.

Her miniature poodle, Cleopatra, sat on his examination table. A lovely-looking, precious little mutt that was spoiled rotten. He didn’t think the dog had ever walked on grass or dirt in its entire life.

Perhaps she’d never walked
anywhere
.

Gabe stripped off his gloves and considered Ms. Emelia Reardon, divorcee extraordinaire. In her mid-forties, the woman was stunning, always dressed to the nines, always had the right thing to say.

Husband number five had been shed only three months ago, and Gabe could see she was back on the hunt. This time, he believed her sights may well have turned in his direction. Shaking his head to himself, he knew he had to act fast.

“There’s nothing wrong with her that a bit of exercise each day wouldn’t fix.” Gabe looked up from the dog, straight into Emelia’s bewildered eyes. “She is only three years old. Take her for a damned walk, Emelia. She has legs for a reason. That thing?” He pointed at the fancy leather dog handbag sitting on the counter to the left. “Burn it.”

Emelia’s mouth worked silently. She set her perfectly manicured hands on her slim hips. “Gabriel Jameson! How dare you speak to me in such a manner. You’re not the only vet within driving distance.”

Thank heaven for that.

Gabe narrowed his gaze and regarded her. “Then take her to another one. They’ll tell you the same thing. You’re in here every other day. Why? There’s nothing wrong with your dog,” he repeated, making sure he maintained eye contact and didn’t smile, letting her know he was on to her and was not interested.

Grabbing Cleopatra under one arm, Emelia snatched up the handbag and stormed to the double doors of the exam room, expensive heels clattering on the polished concrete floor.

She spun to stare down her ten-thousand-dollar nose at him. “You are rude and…and…
rude!
I won’t be back, Gabe, and I won’t be recommending you to anyone ever again.”

He could only hope she meant it.

“It’s on the house!” he called through the swinging doors, grinning, knowing that would rile her all the more.

A snort was the only answer he got.

Shaking his head, he picked up his discarded gloves and dropped them in the waste bin near the stainless steel sinks on the far wall.

Crazy woman.

“By the gravel flying out from behind that Porsche’s tires, I take it Ms. Reardon isn’t pleased with you?”

Gabe looked at his father. “Sounds about right.”

Ed nodded, a sly grin winding across his face. “I must say, that was very well done. You dodged a bullet there, my boy.” He narrowed his gaze at Gabe. “You know, this is the first time in over two weeks I’ve seen you smile.”

The grin fell from Gabe’s lips. He straightened and turned around, pretending to look for something in the cupboards above the sink.

“Avoid the subject all you like, but it won’t change the fact that you’re hurting. What happened?”

The whole town knew Emma had left the Cow that night. A few people had seen her slip out the side exit and had seen him follow her. When he hadn’t returned to the bar, many had assumed he’d spent the night with her, an assumption both of them had denied. He just wished she hadn’t denied it so forcefully.