Chapter 28 Emma
Emma
My heart had been in my throat for days now. The night I drove away from the manor was a close call. Too close…
I stayed clear ever since, a task made easier by how much work I had on other jobs at the moment. I’d put in long hours, today being the longest so far. I’d stayed at the campground, but tonight a storm had moved in, an icy one.
I thought about calling Suzie, but it was past midnight. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t disturb her. So tired, I couldn’t stop yawning, I found myself on the street below the Henderson site, staring up the driveway.
I knew now how comfortable that attic bed was, how even though it was so cold tonight, the walls had been insulated, making the manor feel warm and cozy.
Listen to me. I was like a criminal who’d gotten away with her first theft, and now it seemed easier. And less…wrong.
We’d all gotten a team email from Colburn Restorations notifying us that more sophisticated surveillance equipment had arrived on the Henderson site and would be installed in the morning.
Which meant I could have one more night. Or at least a few hours.
No. No way, I told myself. If I was discovered, I’d be fired on the spot, or worse, accused of being the one messing with this job. I wouldn’t sleep there. I’d just go in, take a hot shower to warm up, and get out.
And that was it.
I turned my car around, parked a few streets away to avoid the gate cameras, and began walking in the dark toward the manor.
My heart pounded in my chest. I hated that I was in this situation, that I’d chosen warmth and stupidity instead of staying at the campground tonight.
The irony was that I was so close to getting an apartment.
One more paycheck—two weeks—and I’d have enough to sign a lease.
Hating my own weakness, I let myself inside, took a shower, then sat on the attic bed, pulling on clothes.
I yawned so wide, my jaw cracked. God, I was tired, so very tired.
I lay back—just for a single minute, I promised myself.
With my eyes closed, I reached up to touch my mom’s necklace that was no longer around my neck.
It had been so long since I’d lost her that I had trouble picturing her face.
Sorrow overcame me, and it was only when I turned my mind to that perfect evening on the riverbank, to when Caleb had been buried deep inside me, that my mind emptied of any thoughts except how I felt when I was with him, and I was able to breathe again.
***
My eyes flew open, unsure what had woken me. My phone said it was just past three in the morning. All I could hear was a light rain tap-dancing on the roof.
Oh, dear God, I’d done it again. I’d fallen asleep, and this time, I wasn’t alone. Terrified, I slid silently from the bed, looking around me for something I could wield as a weapon. My gaze went to the heavy antique brass candlesticks on the dresser.
I grabbed one, and clutching my phone in my other hand so I could call 9-1-1 if I had to, I tiptoed to the door and cracked it open.
Nothing.
With every nerve on high alert, I padded down the stairs.
My bare feet landed on the tarp-covered living-room floor just as something creaked.
I froze for a long breathless moment but heard nothing.
Maybe it had been a dream, but now that I was up, I needed some water.
I crossed the big front room and turned toward the kitchen, then froze again.
The kitchen light was on.
I had just enough time to lift the brass candlestick as a big shadow suddenly loomed in front of me. Before I could swing, the candlestick had been confiscated and I was pinned to the wall.
It was instinct to lift a knee, aiming for the family jewels, but the shadow moved faster, shoving my knee aside with a grunt, still pressing me between his big body and the wall.
I knew this body. Intimately. I knew his scent, the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the feel of his hands on me, even in the dark, and I instantly relaxed.
So did Caleb. “Jesus, Em.”
He hit the hallway lights, and I blinked in the sudden glare.
Caleb stared down at me, expression inscrutable, tension in every hard line of his body. “What are you doing here?”
My stomach plummeted. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
We both knew he had much more reason to be here than I did, but my brain was a dumpster fire, words and logic escaping me.
What would happen now? Would he assume I was the one messing with the cameras and stealing stuff?
Would he get me fired? But my biggest worry was…
would he ever look at me the same way again?
He spoke into my silence, his stance relaxed, his face calm but serious.
“I couldn’t sleep. Came here to work, then heard someone on the stairs.
” Looking at me expectantly, he leaned back against the island, which was covered in blueprints, spread out and held open by a coffee mug, a laptop, reading glasses, and a plate that held nothing but crumbs.
“I, um…” I sucked in a breath as he took in his own—pilfered—sweats covering my body, bare feet, and probably a mop of hair that looked like an explosion in a mattress factory.
“Truth or dare, Emma?” he asked softly.
My heart sank like a stone, all the way to my toes. “Dare,” I whispered, terrified of truth.
He nodded, eyes warm but serious. “I dare you to tell me you’re living here.”
“What?” I choked out a laugh, my heart in my throat. “That’s ridiculous, I…” My words dried up, and my everything is great, don’t mind me smile fell from my face.
He held my gaze prisoner. “You’re living here,” he said so gently that my chest ached.
“No.” Meaning, Please no, this isn’t happening…
“It’s not what you think—I’m not living here.
Yes, tonight I fell asleep upstairs in the attic; it was stupid, and entirely accidental.
It’s happened once before as well, and I know the consequences, I know I’ll be fired, and all I can do is apologize. ”
He stared at me for a long beat, eyes shuttered behind his glasses, unreadable. Then he pulled something from his pocket, dangling it from his fingers so that it sparkled beneath the lights before setting it to rest on the counter between us.
My necklace.
“Didn’t peg you for the jewelry-wearing type,” I managed to say.
The very corner of his lip quirked slightly.
“Where did you find it?” I whispered.
“Under the bed in the attic. It was caught in a gap in the wood floor.”
I gulped. My heart beat so hard in my chest, I half-expected it to escape my body and fly away. “I wasn’t sure where I’d lost it. I…” I was so grateful it hadn’t been lost forever that my throat tightened painfully. “It’s the only thing I have of my mom.”
“Em.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I had no excuses for what had happened tonight, what had happened before as well, nothing but the painful, ugly, humiliating truth. I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I know what you must be thinking—”
“What I’m thinking is that even good people have bad things happen to them.”
My eyes opened again, yet I couldn’t look anywhere but at my feet. “I have no one to blame but myself.” I looked up, met his gaze. “You must be furious.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I just…” He broke off. “We ate your food.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You let all of us eat your fucking food.”
“I…well, yes. Ryder made sure I was paid back.”
“But you didn’t know he would do that when you let us inhale it all.”
“I didn’t mind sharing.”
He pulled off his glasses and pressed his hands to his eyes. “You should’ve come to me.” His hands dropped away. “Did you think I wouldn’t help you?”
He wasn’t mad? He was…hurt? I couldn’t think straight with the panic wreaking havoc in my belly. “Caleb, I didn’t steal the tools or mess with the cameras, I swear.”
“I know.”
I blinked. “You…do?”
“Yes. Is that why you didn’t come to me, because you thought you’d be blamed for the vandalism?
Fuck, Em.” A sharp exhale escaped him, and he ran both hands through his hair, before resting them on the back of his skull as he shook his head.
“Whatever’s going on, I know you wouldn’t put your job in jeopardy if you weren’t desperate.
And in spite of how expertly you wielded that candlestick a few minutes ago, I also don’t believe you could hurt anyone.
I’ve got a gut feeling about you.” He paused. “Always have.”
“A gut feeling like…I’m a hot mess and you should be running for the hills?” I asked with a weak smile.
“Talk to me, Em. Please.”
I sucked in a breath and turned my back, flattening my palms on the cold countertop to center myself.
“I’m really not living here. Just sometimes, before the cameras were put in, I parked on the property and slept in my car.
Like when I can’t get a campsite, or I get a sketchy feeling in the park’s lot. ”
“You don’t have a place to live.”
“I do. In my car.”
He put his glasses back on and studied me intently, in direct opposition to his very quiet, almost-gentle tone. “Did something happen to you?”
That he would ask that instead of the obvious, like how long I had been fooling him, made me close my eyes and lower my head. “Just some bad luck, is all.”
He came up behind me and rested his forehead against the back of my neck, his warm breath sending goose bumps down my spine.
I’d been braced for anger and then pity, but this wasn’t either.
It felt like sorrow and regret for what I’d been through.
It felt like understanding, an acknowledgment that I wasn’t weak for doing what I had, but strong for surviving. It felt like support.
I honestly didn’t know what to do with any of that.
“I wish you’d told me.” His voice rumbled low and husky in my ear. “I could’ve helped.”
“I didn’t want you solving another one of my problems.”
Gently, he turned me to him, crooked a finger beneath my chin, and tilted my face up to his. “You can’t always be an island of one.”
“Lifelong habit.”