Chapter Twenty-Five
EMERY
ONE WEEK. THAT’S how long I’ve been lying low around Reid’s cabin.
The last weeks of June are upon us and I’m starting to go a little stir crazy.
My wounds have healed nicely. I’ve spent plenty of time on his couch reading, binge-watching shows while he works at the marina, and falling asleep each night in his guest room.
Things have been eerily quiet—no unfamiliar boats, no voices carrying over the water, no sense that anyone is watching.
The kind of quiet that doesn’t reassure so much as make you listen harder.
I tell Reid I feel safer now, that maybe it’s time I moved back to my cottage.
I know he’s been there. He cleaned up the mess they left and brought back some of my belongings.
But when I suggest going with him, his expression shutters. He turns cold.
What’s worse is we seem to have plummeted right back into the friend zone.
We haven’t kissed in weeks, both of us seem to be tiptoeing around the inevitable.
I’m starting to wonder if he’s already decided we’re a bad idea.
But then I’ll be washing dishes, and he’ll come up behind me, his hand curling around my waist as he reaches for a dishtowel to help me dry, and my heart starts racing again.
Part of me thinks he’s wound so tightly, he wouldn’t give in even if I threw myself at him.
He just won’t let his guard down around me, and it’s slowly killing me.
I haven’t been back to the research center.
Kayla is taking care of the other two turtles in the tanks there, and we’re just about ready to set them free again.
There are still no signs of Trixie, and my heart hurts thinking about what could have happened to her.
I need to convince Reid to let us go into the marsh to release the others and to get the third trap, but he has been so quiet and contemplative.
Each morning, when I wake up, he’s got breakfast ready, eggs one day, oatmeal the next.
He always has a cup of coffee waiting for me and a tight smile, but he’s distant.
It’s getting to me today, so I’m making dinner for us and I’m finally going to confront him.
Ask him what the hell is going on in his head.
I venture into town around noon. I have the strange feeling that everyone is looking at me, but when I clock my surroundings, everyone seems to be minding their own business. I park my Prius right outside Mama T’s and duck inside.
“Oh, hello, Emery!” Rosie chirps from behind the register. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
My cheeks heat. I haven’t been here in some time, choosing instead to thrive on take-out and whatever Reid stocks the fridge with.
“Hi, Rosie,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry, I’ve been recovering.” I stupidly gesture to my still wrapped shoulder.
“What ever happened, dear?” Rosie soothes, her voice etched with concern.
I realize almost immediately that I shouldn’t have called attention to it. In a town of this size, all Rosie has to do is mention to someone that the research center director is injured and everyone will be looking my way again.
“Oh, uh, I slipped and fell in my boat. Got a little banged up. I’m okay though.” I turn, fixing my gaze toward the butcher at the back of the store. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I say without turning back around.
I wander to the back of the store and ask the butcher for two strip steaks. I don’t cook often, but I know how to make this. Once I grab my meat, I get some potatoes and salad ingredients before making my way back to the register.
“This looks like a fancy meal you’re cooking up,” Rosie muses, a twinkle in her eye. “For you and Reid?”
The question catches me off guard. How would she possibly know I’m staying with Reid? I have hardly left his house this week.
“I see you two venturing downtown together sometimes,” Rosie offers. “I’m just so glad to see that boy moving on.”
“Moving on?” I squeak, casting my gaze to the scanner as she swipes my items.
“It’s just, he’s always been sort of a loner, but especially so after the military messed him up.” Rosie shrugs. “I knew his mama. She’d be happy if she could see him now, settling down with a purty girl like you.”
I open my mouth to speak and then close it again, offering her an uneasy smile.
“That will be forty-seven fifty-three.” Rosie grins. “Cash or card?”
“Uh, card,” I say, fishing my Visa out of my purse.
Rosie swipes it on the reader and hands it back to me. “You take good care of that boy, now, okay?” Her southern drawl makes the remark sound vaguely threatening.
I swallow. “I will.”
“Bye, now,” she calls as I turn to go.
I can’t get back to the cabin fast enough.
REID COMES HOME just after four, the same time he has for the past week. I’ve already got dinner underway, but I’m feeling jittery trying to work up the nerve to talk to him. We’ve been tiptoeing around this thing between us for weeks, and I need to know where we stand.
“Smells good in here,” he calls, closing the front door. “I guess you’re feeling better.”
I smile from my place at the counter. He walks into the kitchen, that easy strength radiating from him. He leans against the counter across from me, and I hand him the cold beer I’ve already cracked open.
He takes a long pull. “What’s all this?”
“I’m going a little stir crazy,” I admit, wiping my hands on a dish towel.
He watches me closely for a beat. “Huh,” he says, like he’s reading between the lines I haven’t yet spoken.
“I was thinking,” I start, forcing air into my lungs. “It’s time for me to go back to the cottage…”
“No.” His reply is instant, his eyes lit with frustration.
The words feel like a slap.
“It’s been quiet,” I press.
“It hasn’t been long enough.” He puts his bottle down with enough force that the noise startles me.
“Then…maybe I can go back to work, at least. Kayla has been taking care of the turtles, and it’s time to release them.” My voice trembles on release them. It’s not just about turtles, and we both know it.
He exhales hard, raking a hand over his hair. “I don’t feel right about any of it yet.”
“What do you feel right about then?” I snap before I can stop myself. “You want me to hide here forever? Because if that’s the plan, I might as well go the hell home to New Jersey.”
Something shifts in his expression, a flicker of panic, maybe, before it softens. He works his jaw. Then he steps forward, close enough that I feel the heat radiating off of him.
“I feel right about you being here. With me.” His voice is low, rough around the edges.
“But why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? To keep you safe.” Reid huffs.
“That’s the only reason?”
He folds his arms, shuts down. Classic Reid. “Emery.”
“No, Reid. Don’t fucking Emery me. What is this?” I gesture between the two of us. “We go from kissing like we’re about to burn down the house to you acting like I’m your roommate. No, worse, your ward. So, which one is it?”
He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re still healing.”
“I’m fine.” My voice cracks on the word. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. “You just…got me out of your system. Right? You scratched the itch, and now you’re done.” I force out a laugh that sounds nothing like me. “Just say it so I can stop waiting for you to reach for me.”
His head snaps up, eyes blazing. “Is that what you think? That I got you out of my system?”
“What other explanation is there?” My voice drops low, laced with disappointment.
He takes a step closer. “Did you ever think that maybe I’m trying not to hurt you?
That every time you walk past me in those little gym shorts and those sexy fucking glasses, I’m not this close to losing my mind?
” He pinches two fingers together. “Or, that I want you so badly I can’t see straight, but the only thing worse than losing you to the monsters in this town would be losing you because I didn’t know how to do this?
Because I don’t. I’ve been alone for years, Emery, by choice.
I’ve made my peace with it. And then you show up and ruin all of it.
” He’s pacing now, agitated, running a hand over the back of his neck.
The air between us crackles.
I turn away so he can’t see the sting of rejection on my face. I open the oven just to have something to do with my hands. The heat burns my cheeks. There is so much I don’t know about Reid—I can’t just demand that he let me in.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Reid.”
“God,” he mutters from behind me.
When I turn, he’s already moving, his eyes dark with hunger. My pulse picks up, and I instinctively take a step toward him.
“Fuck it,” he growls and then he’s on me.
His mouth crashes into mine with a force that steals my breath.
It’s not gentle, it’s hungry and aching, weeks of restraint snapping all at once.
The sound that escapes me is half surprise, half need.
His hand cups the back of my head, as his lips claim me again and again, deeper, harder, like he’s trying to memorize me from the inside out.
His other hand finds my thigh, gripping my ass as he lifts me easily.
My legs move instinctively around his waist, and he backs me against the wall.
He tastes like salt and beer and a hunger he has kept buried for too long.
I cling to him, my fingers fisting the back of his shirt, tugging him closer because I can’t get enough. Because I’ve wanted this just as badly, and the relief of his mouth on mine is all consuming. The air between us sizzles, every brush of his lips against mine a promise and a warning.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard, our lips still brushing. His voice comes out rough, almost broken.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasps.
“Don’t stop,” I breathe, kissing him again.
It’s slower this time, tender where the first one was aching and urgent. And this time, it feels less like a collision and more like surrender.
Reid lifts me and carries me into his room, softly laying me on the mattress, his eyes searching mine. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Then show me,” I whisper.
Reid brushes hair off my forehead, his eyes darkening, torn between caution and surrender. “I want to take this slow.” The words are ragged, like they’re costing him something.
“I don’t.” I run my hands over his chest to the back of his head. “I’m tired of being afraid. Of everything. I want you.”
For a second he stares at me and then his control breaks.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand slips beneath the hem of my T-shirt, his palm warm against my skin as it trails up the length of my ribcage.
He lingers just over the band of my bra, hesitating.
I clutch at his shoulders, the world tilting around us. “Reid.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his breaths coming rapidly, his eyes wild. “You need to tell me to stop.”
“I won’t.”
A muscle tics in his jaw, his thumb tracing tiny circles around my ribs before his fingers slip beneath my bra. Finding a nipple, he lightly brushes his fingertips over it before his mouth finds my neck. I gasp at the feeling of his hands and his mouth on me at the same time.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he rasps, planting a trail of kisses along my jaw.
“Yes, I do.”
That’s all it takes for his mouth to find mine again. “You undo me,” he murmurs, breaking our kiss. “You have since the first damn day.”
“Then stop fighting it.” My heart thunders in my chest as I sit up, tugging my shirt over my head and unclasping my bra in one fluid motion.
Reid’s breath catches, and he presses his forehead into mine. “If I don’t slow down right now, that’s it.”
I nod, dizzy and trembling as I reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off to reveal ripples of lean muscle.
He gives in then, pushing me back gently on the sheets, slowly working the button on my shorts, his desire tight against his own.
I run a hand over his zipper where his erection is begging to be let out. “I’ve been dreaming about this since Jeopardy.”
A laugh bursts out of him. “Me too.”