Yours to Keep (17 page)

She had a wedding date to pick out, anyway.

And, a half hour later, with her head next to her grandmother’s looking at the calendar, she tried not to think about the phone call she’d eventually have to place to Florida, telling Gram she and Sean had gone their separate ways.

When Sean’s phone rang, he pulled it out and read the caller ID screen.
Northern Star Lodge.
It would be either Josh or Rosie, so he flipped it open and said hello.

“Hey.” It was Josh. “Did I win yet?”

He shook his head even though his dumbass youngest brother couldn’t see him and left the rocking chair to move farther away from the house. “Nobody’s won a damn thing.”

That technically wasn’t a lie since he hadn’t officially ceded yet and he wasn’t sure who’d put money on two weeks. Speaking of which, he had to remember to pick up another box or two or three of condoms. He didn’t think he should add them to Emma’s list on the refrigerator.

“You’re almost done with the whole thing, aren’t you?”

“A week,” Sean said, not that he was counting. “Cat’s flying out Sunday.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

He wasn’t going to go back to the lodge, if that’s what Josh was after. “Not sure yet. Thinking about taking the scenic route to New Mexico and visiting Liz.”

There were a few seconds’ silence on the line. “She’d probably be glad to see you. She talked to Mitch after the Fourth, by the way. He seems to think you and this Emma woman are serious.”

“That’s the point.” Sean didn’t want to talk to his brother about Emma. “People are
supposed
to think we’re serious.”

“We grew up with you, stupid. Ain’t nobody standing in line to give your ass an Oscar.”

Sean leaned against the front fender of his truck and tilted his head back to look up at the sky. “I’m not looking for serious, Josh. Not looking for anything right now.”

“Just because you’re not looking for something doesn’t mean you won’t find it.”

“Well, aren’t you quite the fucking fortune cookie.”

His brother laughed. “That’s me. So, hey, why don’t you come home for a few days before you head west?”

Because if he went home for a few days, he might get sucked into staying and he wasn’t ready to do that. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. We’ll see.”

They talked about the lodge for a few minutes, and then Josh had to run. Sean slid his phone back into his pocket and sighed. Time to go back into the house and see what the women were up to. Probably picking a wedding date.

And knowing Cat, probably making a list of baby names. He supposed it was natural for people to assume that after the wedding bells came the stork, but it had still given him the cold sweats to hear her talking about children. Not that he didn’t like kids. Mike and Terry’s kids were cool, but first you had to get through the phase Kevin’s and Joe’s kids were stuck in and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

He paused in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Cat and Emma flip through the pages of the calendar. The wedding box was on the table, too, which meant good old Grams was stepping it up. Emma was smiling and nodding, but he could tell she wanted to be anywhere but there.

He could see the tension in her face and the way she held her shoulders. She was fidgeting with the ring he’d given her, spinning it around on her finger. He could see how uncomfortable she was because he knew her.

How could he not know her? He lived with her. They worked together and played together and brushed their damn teeth together. He understood her. He loved…
shit.

No, he didn’t love her. He
pretend
loved her and he was sick of his mind getting that mixed up.

Emma looked up and saw him then, and she frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“What? Yeah.” He shook it off and walked to the counter to steal the last dark dregs of coffee. “Josh called and he always annoys the crap out of me.”

Emma was watching him, and he guessed his expression had been more horrified than annoyed. And she’d know that, because she knew him. Just like he knew her.

“Before you run off again,” Gram said, “I don’t want to be all mopey and sad Saturday night, so I invited everybody over for a bon voyage party.”

“Sounds like fun,” he said. “Who’s everybody?”

“Your family, of course. And Russell and Dani and Roger. I’m thinking burgers and dogs and Mary already said she’d bring a dump-truck load of that amazing coleslaw of hers.”

“We’ll take care of the cooking, Gram, so you can relax.” When he and Cat both looked at her, Emma blushed. “Okay, fine. Sean will take care of the grilling so you can relax.”

“I was counting on it. And, Sean, why don’t you sit down and help us settle on a wedding date?”

“I told Emma to tell me when to be there and I’d be there.”

“Nonsense. Sit down.”

He’d rather be dipped in barbeque sauce and dropped in the desert, but he sat. One more week and it would be over.

Then he wouldn’t have to think about Emma anymore. Not think about marrying her or having babies with her or holding her in his arms at night. He’d be gone and she’d be some funny story his brothers brought up sitting around the fire knocking back beer.

“Really, Sean, are you okay?” Cat asked him, putting her hand on his arm.

He realized he’d been rubbing his chest and he forced himself to lean forward and prop his arms on the table so he wouldn’t do it again. “I’m fine. Let’s pick a date.”

If anybody had asked her, Cat would have said she was at least a couple of decades past having butterflies of nervous anticipation fluttering around inside. But as she put her hand on the door of Walker Hardware and prepared to push it open, a winged
Nutcracker
ballet was being performed in her stomach.

She’d spent a little time talking to Russell on the telephone over the last couple of days, but this would be the first time she actually saw him since kissing him goodbye the previous morning.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Sure, they’d talked on the phone, but he hadn’t asked her out again. Maybe it had been too much, too fast, and rather than tell her he didn’t want to see her again, he thought he’d just play along until she went back to Florida.

She pulled her hand back and took a deep breath. She was being silly. It wasn’t some grand romance they were embarking on, anyway. They were good friends, that’s all. Friends with occasional benefits, as the younger generations would say. With no pressure, there was no reason not to casually drop in and say hello.

There was a tapping on the glass and she looked up to see Russell standing on the other side of the door, watching her. The amusement on his face made her laugh at herself as he pulled open the door and made the bell ring.

“That must have been quite the dilemma you were sorting through,” he said as she walked by him. “Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted you.”

“I was being ridiculous. I’m glad you did or who knows how long I would have stood out there arguing with myself.”

“Were you winning?” The laugh lines around his eyes danced as he smiled at her.

“I was, actually.” She looked around at the shelves, which didn’t look much more empty than they had the first time she’d been in. “I had to come into town for sugar and I thought I’d stop in and say hello.”

“I left a message at the house. Wish I’d caught you before you drove over here.”

“The phone started ringing right after I locked the door behind me and it’s usually for Emma’s business, so I didn’t go back.”

“I was wondering if you’d want to take a ride down to Concord with me tonight. Get some dinner and see a movie maybe?”

He looked as nervous as she’d felt standing on his front step, she realized, and she smiled back at him. “I’d love to.”

“Should I pick you up at your house around five or…”

“That would be lovely. I’m not sure if the kids will be home by then. They had a couple of things to take care of before they could head to the big job for this week. Sean has to get that deck done, so they might work late.”

“How’s that going?”

“Honestly, if I was just meeting Sean for the first time now, I’d never guess they aren’t a real couple.”

“So your plan is working, then?”

“It seems to be, which is good because the clock’s ticking.” She sighed and glanced at the door. “Speaking of ticking clocks, I should move along if I’m going to get everything done before five. I’ll probably make up some dinner for the kids before I go. If left to her own devices, Emma would work that poor man into the ground and then give him a grilled cheese sandwich for supper.”

“I’ll see you at five, then,” he said.

She nodded and moved to open the door, but he caught her hand and stopped her. One long, lingering kiss later, the butterflies were dancing again. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“You’re not very good at this,” Emma said, laughing at the frustration on Sean’s face.

He pulled his hand out from under the back of her T-shirt. “You’re distracting me.”

“How am I distracting you?” She shook the bag at Sean, reminding him to pull two letter tiles to replace the
C
and the
T
he’d used to make
CAT.

“You look totally hot. And you did it on purpose so I wouldn’t be able to concentrate and you’d win.”

Emma laughed. Sure, she’d thrown on baggy flannel boxers and an old Red Sox T-shirt after her shower just to seduce him out of triple word scores. “You not having a shirt on is distracting. And you keep pretending you want to rub my back so you can peek at my tile rack.”

“Nothing wrong with checking out your rack.” He craned his neck to see better and she shoved him away. It wasn’t easy playing Scrabble sitting side by side on the couch but, after a long work day, neither was willing to take the floor.

They’d found a note from Gram on the counter when they got home. She was going to dinner and a movie with Russell and they shouldn’t wait up. She’d also left a small casserole in the fridge with
very
specific instructions on how to warm it up. Cleaned up, well fed and facing a long, rainy evening together, they’d hit the game cupboard. And, ironically, Scrabble had been Sean’s choice.

“Did you call your brother back?” she asked while looking over the board. Ryan had called while they were intent on obliterating a nasty patch of poison oak for a family with several kids and Sean had sent it to voice mail.

“Not yet. I’ll give him a shout back tomorrow.”

“Are you avoiding him?” She dropped an
O
and
T
on the end of
BALL
and noted her points.

“Yup.” He rearranged some tiles on his rack, frowning. “They’re taking turns calling me to see if anybody’s won the bet yet.”

And he wouldn’t tell them because somebody might tell the women and he didn’t want them getting ideas. She was about to tell him it was lame to avoid his siblings over a stupid bet when he laid down his tiles, adding a
Q, U, A
and an
R
on a triple word score space before the
T
she’d put down, and then a
Z
on the end. “You did
not
just use a
Q
and a
Z
on a triple word score.”

“I think that puts me in the lead.” He grinned and picked up the pencil and paper. “Never count a Kowalski out. We don’t like to lose.”

“Obviously I’m not hot enough. Maybe I should have put on some mascara.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “You don’t need shit on your face to be hot.”

“Just a dirt smudge here and there?”

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss her. She wanted more and threw her leg over his so she was straddling his lap. He moaned against her mouth, his hands going to her hips as she put her hands on his bare chest and pushed him back against the couch.

“Now I know you’re trying to distract me,” he muttered against her lips.

“I don’t like to lose, either.”

It was her turn to moan when he lightly caught her nipple between his teeth, the thin T-shirt doing nothing to dampen the delicious sensation. He slid his hands under the fabric, pushing it up until her breasts were bared to his mouth.

She reached down to undo his fly, but his arm blocked hers. He worked his hand into the wide leg opening of her boxers and found…only her. Groaning, he slid his fingers over her slick flesh and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Please tell me we don’t have to go all the way upstairs for a condom,” she said.

“Back pocket.” She leaned with him as he fished it out, then tried to help him get his jeans down over his hips. Her foot hit the coffee table, which snagged on the throw rug and sent the Scrabble tiles sliding all over the board.

She laughed as he tore open the condom packet. “Now nobody wins.”

“I was ahead.” He put one hand on her hip, using the other to guide himself into her. “So I win.”

Emma moaned as he filled her, bracing herself against the couch with a hand on either side of his head. “The game wasn’t over. It’s a draw.”

He pulled down on her hips as he drove up into her, making her gasp. “Ties are for pussies. Admit I won.”

She looked down into his blue eyes, crinkled with amusement as he grinned at her. God, she loved…having sex with this man. “One good word isn’t a victory.”

“That’s not what the score sheet said.” He stopped moving and, when she tried to rock against him, he held down on her hips so she couldn’t move, either. Then he had the nerve to chuckle at her growl of sexual frustration. “Admit it. I can sit here all night.”

“Oh, really?” She went straight for a known weak spot—nipping at his earlobe before sucking it into her mouth.

He let go of her hips with one hand, intending to push her mouth away, but she rocked her hips. He groaned and put his hand back. She breathed softly against his ear and then ran her tongue along the outside.

“Admit I was going to win,” she whispered, “because I can do this all night.”

With one leg, he kicked at the table, sending it over and the letter tiles flying. Before Emma could react, she was on her back on the throw rug with Sean between her legs and her hands held over her head.

“I don’t lose.” He crossed her wrists so he could hold them with one hand, then used the other to pull her leg up over his hip so he was totally buried in her. “Give up?”

She shook her head, but couldn’t hold back the sigh as he oh-so-slowly withdrew almost completely and then just as slowly filled her again. “You’re cheating.”

He did it again and again, the slow friction delicious and frustrating, until they were both trembling and on the edge.

Then, as he was pulling out of her once again with a self-control that made her want to scream, it became a matter of life or death because she was going to die if she didn’t get what her body was looking for. “Okay, fine. You win.”

He drove into her hard, his fingers biting into her wrists before he released them so he could lift her legs to her shoulder. She cried his name as his fingers dug into her hips and he gave them what they both wanted.

When he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard against her neck, she wrapped her legs and arms around him, holding him close.

“Another one for the win column,” he said once they’d caught their breath.

“It has an asterisk, though, because you totally cheated.”

“All’s fair in sex and Scrabble, baby.” He propped his head on his hand and smiled down at her. “What should we play next?”

“I’ve still got clothes on. You’ve still got clothes on. Maybe we should break out a deck of cards.”

“You’re my kinda girl, Emma Shaw,” he said and thankfully he was in the process of getting up off the floor because she didn’t think she did a good job of hiding how happy those words made her.

Sean eyeballed the bubble, making sure it was exact dead center in the level, and then drove the last screw home. The stairs were done. Tomorrow he’d lay the seats for the built-in bench seating and the deck would be done.

Just in time, too, since tomorrow was his last day of work. He and Emma were taking Thursday and Friday off to spend with Cat since she was leaving on Sunday.

Which meant he’d be leaving on Sunday, too.

“Nice work,” Emma said, startling him because he’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard her approach.

“I told you it’d be good. If it’s treated properly, this deck will outlast the house.” And he wouldn’t be the one treating it. Either Emma would have to see to the weatherproofing or hire somebody else to do it. He wouldn’t be around anymore.

“Are you going to be able to finish the benches tomorrow?”

“Yup.” He turned around and looked out at the property Emma had transformed while he built the deck. “They’re going to love this place.”

She took off her gloves and tossed them down next to his toolbox. “I think so, too. It all came together even better than I thought.”

They made a good pair, just as he’d thought they would, but he didn’t say it out loud. It was something he’d had to do a lot lately—watching what he said. He’d gone with her the previous afternoon to look at a lakefront property and he’d almost pointed out they really needed to rebuild the owners’ boat dock. And when they’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up some steaks, he’d noticed the pot roasts were on sale and almost asked her if she could use a crockpot because nothing beat slow-cooked pot roast on a chilly autumn day.

Luckily he’d remembered he wouldn’t be there for any chilly autumn days before he’d opened his mouth. And, even if he did get a job pounding nails after he left, he shouldn’t bid on pounding any nails with her. She’d managed to get under his skin so completely, the only way he was going to get out of there was to walk away and not look back.

“Are you okay?”

He shook it off and looked at Emma. She was frowning at him. “Yeah, why?”

“You just looked really unhappy for a minute.”

“Just hungry. Thinking about those steaks we bought and how good they’re going to taste tonight.”

She gave him an uncertain look, but didn’t argue. “We should start picking up. I didn’t realize how late it was and Gram likes to eat on the early side.”

He started gathering his tools, wondering if Emma had moments like that. Moments when she was making plans or thinking about something they were going to do before remembering he wouldn’t be there come Monday morning. And if she did, if she cared.

After carrying his tool bucket to the truck, he helped Emma clean her tools and carried them around for her.

“I’m going to miss having you around,” she said lightly, carrying nothing but her gloves. “I’ll have to do my own heavy lifting again.”

Was that the only reason? “You should hire somebody. You can afford to pay me, so you can afford to pay somebody else.”

She only shrugged, as if she might think about it, and he let it go. Wasn’t his business what she did with her company. Once he had her tools stowed in the diamond-plate lockboxes in the back of her truck, he brushed off his hands and opened her door for her since she was just standing there looking at him.

“What’s bothering you?” she asked again. “And don’t tell me you’re hungry.”

What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t going to tell her he was moping because she didn’t seem too broken up over the fact he’d be leaving soon and wouldn’t be coming back. Except for the fact she wouldn’t have him around to carry her tools anymore.

Instead he backed her up against the inside of the open truck door and kissed her. It was a good kiss, too, but apparently not good enough because she pushed him back. “Don’t put me off like that. We’ve already had the discussion about your kisses not making my brain empty of any intelligent thought.”