Exception (22 page)

Daisy’s omelets proved yet another reason why Taylor saw the woman as a lifesaver. They were delicious and, for a single man who apparently couldn’t boil an egg, she could see that having a good cook was mandatory.

They ran for over an hour. Although the scenery was different, their interaction was the same as it had been during their runs in East Rock. They talked animatedly while they stretched and warmed up, and enjoyed a companionable silence filled with stolen glances and friendly touches once they picked up the pace.

As they walked back into Taylor’s apartment to get ready for the day, he instructed Emily to avoid sandals or any open-toe shoes, and to dress in warmer clothes. Emily tried to follow his guidelines as best her limited wardrobe allowed.

“This is the best I’ve got,” she said stepping out of her bedroom.

Hearing her voice, Taylor, who was sitting on the couch, scrolling through messages on his phone, looked up. An appreciative smile spread across his lips. She definitely looked great in her black skinny jeans, a black tank top, which was underneath a fitted denim shirt only halfway buttoned, and leaf-green flats. Her aviator sunglasses were sitting atop of her head, and a brown leather messenger bag hung across her chest.

“You look lovely, but that’s not enough.” With his ever-present smile in place, he stood up, fixing his blue buttoned down shirt and dark wash jeans, and walked towards the coat closet by the door. From it, he retrieved a black jacket that looked like it was made of some sort of thick canvas. The item in his hand was clearly a woman’s piece of clothing, and Emily eyed it suspiciously. She wasn’t at all interested in wearing leftover clothes from god knows who.

He smirked, noticing her annoyance. “This is Poppy’s, see if it fits you.”

More at ease, knowing who the owner of the item was, she did as requested and tried the jacket on. Being close in size to his sister, she knew it would fit her perfectly even before she’d put it on. It was much lighter than it looked and the material was so sturdy it gave Emily the impression of being indestructible.

“May I?” he asked looking at the zipper. She nodded her consent and he took the small piece of metal in his fingers and carefully pulled it up, closing the jacket around her body. He closed the garment almost to her neck before letting go. He looked at her with an appreciative smile and chuckled. “Don’t tell Poppy, but it looks way better on you. Totally badass.”

Emily smirked at him, silently enjoying the compliment. He picked another jacket from the closet and led the way out of the apartment.

Reaching the underground garage, Emily quickly spotted both hers and Taylor’s cars parked side by side. Parked on the other side of his Jeep was a monstrous motorcycle. The vehicle finally made her understand the closed-toe shoes and the jacket requirements.

A mixture of excitement and utter fear took over Emily. She’d always had mixed feelings towards motorcycles—they were as appealing as they were frightening. She watched as Taylor walked toward the bike, shrugging his jacket on with the quiet confidence he always had.

She continued to watch him carefully as he retrieved two helmets from a small shelf in front of it before swinging one of his legs over, straddling it. “Are you coming?” he asked, noticing she made no movement to approach the bike.

Two thoughts came into Emily’s mind. The first was that the black and red bike Taylor was sitting on had to be the sexiest vehicle she’d ever seen. The second was that the vision of him on it, calling for her, had to be the sexiest sight her eyes had ever seen. She had to clear her throat and mentally slap the back of her head to clear the ridiculous and, quite frankly, dangerous thoughts she was having. All of that did little to help, though.

“That looks like a deathtrap, Tay.” She tried to keep her voice as normal as possible.

“If it does, than it’s a fucking sexy way to go,” Taylor said with a mischievous grin and a wink.

She stared at him with a mortified expression on her face. Her mind was frantically searching for any indication she might have given that those were her exact thoughts. Luckily for her, he misread it, and understood her expression to be a questioning look, probably directed at the safety of the bike.

“Come here,” he said. His previous mischievousness was completely gone.

Emily walked the few short steps towards him and stood by his side. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes as he’d done a few times the weekend prior. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with honesty.

“Ems, this is a Ducati Diavel Carbon. It’s been elected the best bike in the world a few times, and because it’s made of carbon fiber it’s extremely light—which makes it faster, but safer. Besides, I’m very good driver.” He smiled at her and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before speaking again. “And you should know, by now, that I would never put you in danger, ever. But if you’re not comfortable with it, or if you don’t trust me enough to sit behind me on this deathtrap, then we’ll go to work in which ever way you prefer.”

She smiled at him and let out a deep breath. “You should know by now that I do trust you, probably more than my good sense should allow me to.” She giggled as she placed her sunglasses into her bag and tied her hair in a low sideways ponytail that she tucked inside her jacket. “And this really is a sexy deathtrap. But, just so you know, I might cut the circulation to your legs. That’s how hard I plan to hold on to you.”

Taylor laughed and handed her one of the helmets. “Fine,” he replied, flashing a smug smile, “and, just so you know, that didn’t sound half as bad as you intended it to. Now put that on, and get your ass behind me.”

He checked her helmet and shortened the strap of her bag so it was the correct height before helping her settle on the bike. As the engine came to life she tightened her arms and legs around him, and felt his body tremble as he chuckled.

The ride to the gallery went smoothly. He really was the excellent driver he’d promised to be. Every time they stopped at a red light he would give her a thumbs up, asking her if she was okay, or he would pet the small hands clutching his abdomen tightly.

When they arrived at their destination, Emily was almost disappointed. The wind, the speed and the feel of being so close to him were all extremely thrilling. As the gentleman he was, he held up his hand for her to climb off of the bike first, before swinging his leg over it to stand next to her. He helped her out of the helmet and jacket and took both from her before walking her to Starbucks, where she would wait for him.

Taylor bought drinks for both of them and, with a heavy heart, left her at the coffee shop and walked to the gallery to begin his day’s work.

Emily’s morning at Starbucks was impossibly busy. Seconds after Taylor walked out of the door her phone started ringing. Zack, Jody and Charlie called in succession, all three with the same questions about her time with Taylor. She gave all of them the same answers before shifting the conversation back to their lives.

Zack told her about Toby being back and their upcoming date. Jody shared the story of her fight with her mother-in-law, and her “poison the bitch” plan, which made Emily laugh. And, as for Charlie, that conversation revolved mostly around the baby and her ideas for nursery decorations.

As much as she loved to talk to all three of them, Emily was tremendously pleased when Charlie hung up the phone. She wanted to take the next afternoon off to go and get her nails and hair done for the party, and if she were going to do that she would have to get a lot more done today than she normally would have.

She had just finished checking and responding to her emails and was starting to look over her notes for the reviews she needed to write, when the phone rang yet again. After quickly contemplating throwing it on the floor and stepping on it, she answered.

“Hello.”

“Ems, hi it’s Chels. How are ya?” the woman said in her usual agitated voice.

Unlike her sister Laura, who was serenity personified, Chelsea was a whirlpool. From her dyed, bright-red hair, to her full sleeve of colorful tattoos and her gray eyes that were always too wide from too many coffees and diet cokes, the woman looked like a cartoon character. From the moment they’d met, Emily adored her.

With a smile on her face, she greeted her boss. “Hi sweetie, I’m good. How about you?”

“Peaches. Calling for two things.” Even her tone of voice was cartoon-like. “First, to say that I love you. Your indie corner thing was genius, people love it. Lala and I are getting all sorts of calls from indie publishers and editors wanting to get in touch with you.”

The news was like Christmas to Emily. The indie corner was an idea she’d had when she first started working for the blog. She wanted to give an opportunity to self-published authors that would have a hard time getting a break on their own. She often thought that the best books came from indie authors, since they did it for the love of the story, and not for the big check. Knowing that both Chels and Lala—the nickname most people gave Chelsea’s sister, Laura—liked it and were getting good feedback, was amazing.

“Thanks, Chels. You can give them my number or email and I’ll talk to them, if it’s okay with you and Lala, of course.”

Chelsea laughed. Emily’s politeness always amazed her. “Of course we don’t mind. We love you for being open to talk to people like that. But that’s not all; Lala told you about meeting some publishing people, right?”

“Yes, she called me a few weeks back saying something about it. She told me she would call when she had more information, but she never did,” Emily said.

The woman told Emily that the delay had occurred because of some contractual issues. Apparently they wanted exclusivity in ad space and on posts. Her blood froze upon hearing that. She would absolutely hate to have a predetermined list of books to work with. But, before Emily could protest, Chelsea assured her that they hadn’t agreed to those terms.

She went on, telling her about the three different branches of the company that would advertise on the website, and that all three editors wanted to meet with her in the following week.

“Okay, so it’s a Carl Frey from the fantasy division, Eyvonna Sager from romance and erotica and Megan Wolfe from their indie books division,” Emily confirmed the information taking notes of the names. “And do you know if it’s okay if I bring a date?”

“That’s correct and of course it is, I know you hate to do these things solo. Now, about the second order of business,” Chelsea continued animatedly, “with all of this fuss about your page, Laura and I decided to give you twenty percent of the profits coming from advertising related to your page, which is a nice bonus on top of your paycheck.”

Emily was awestruck. She didn’t know or care how much money it would be, but she was beyond exited that her bosses had thought to give her that. “Oh my god, Chels, you didn’t have to do that—”

“Shut up Ems, you’re a great addition to the family.” The woman cut Emily off mid-sentence. “Besides, we only got these sponsors because of your hard and great work, so we absolutely had to. Now I’ve got to go, but I’ll send you the email of their shared assistant so you can sync schedules, ’kay?”

As they hung up their phones Emily felt like she could burst with joy. The day was getting better by the second. In her happiness, all she wanted was to call Taylor and share her good news, but she knew he had a lot of work to do and she didn’t want to disturb him. Not trusting her self-control, she jumped into her work to keep her treacherous mind and fingers away from her cell phone.

Her staying-busy plan worked, and she spent the rest of the morning completely engrossed in her work. She felt extremely proud of herself after completing three reviews and coordinating the meeting with the three editors via email. Through those email exchanges, they narrowed the possible dates down to either next Tuesday or Friday evening. She was granted the final decision, which she planned on making only after she’d had a chance to speak to Taylor.

The last item on her morning to-do list was to shop online for new books. That was precisely what she was doing, laptop balancing on her stretched thighs and her feet resting on top of the ottoman, when Taylor walked in. She was so focused on her task that she didn’t even see him.

“God, it’s good to see you,” he said, dropping next to her on the couch.

At the sound of his voice, saying the words that reflected her feeling to the dot, all of the attention she was paying to her computer vanished. She’d spent most of the morning wishing he was there with her and, now that he was, relief and happiness poured from every cell in her body.

Her smile twisted her lips as she closed her laptop and nudged him with her shoulder. “Ditto. I fought the urge to call you the entire morning.”

Taylor turned his body to look at Emily’s face. Her laughter did nothing to tame his indignation. “And why the hell would you do that? Urges to call me should never be fought, Ems. If you want to call me, then call me.”

Everything about what was happening was funny to Emily. The indignant look he was giving her would have been appropriate if she’d just told him she liked to eat soap or something like that, and the green light to call him whenever she wanted was equally strange. She’d never met a guy, or a person, for that matter, that didn’t mind being bothered in the middle of a busy day.

“But it wasn’t anything important. Besides, I knew you were having a busy day and that I would see you soon. It could wait.” She shrugged her shoulders.