CHAPTER FIVE
By the time eight rolled around that night, Emily was ready to run out of her house, screaming.
It wasn’t anything big, of course. There were just a myriad of small things that were driving her up a wall.
Like Braden. He was being nice and polite and kind to her. He was also hovering and being a little possessive, and she didn’t know how to take that.
He insisted that her house was likely still haunted, and her ghosts were ‘dormant’. They just didn’t like visitors, he told her. And when she pointed out that the lights no longer flickered because the wiring had been fixed, he gave her a pitying look. He pooh-poohed her suggestion of the opossums and how she hadn’t heard any noises since.
His EMF meter, he said, was reading something, and therefore she still had ghosts. What Emily thought didn’t matter. That was typical, she thought with annoyance. With Braden, it had never mattered what Emily thought.
And then there was his crew. When they’d started to set up cameras, she’d put her foot down and protested. No filming in her house. She didn’t want to be on television. Braden had spent most of the afternoon trying to coax her into changing her mind, and when that hadn’t worked, reminded her that his name was also on the mortgage documents and theoretically, it was his house, too. And when Emily got angry at that, he backed off and suggested that they film another house in the area instead, and they’d just rent rooms from Emily.
Which was fine, and she prepared three rooms for his six crew.
Except…every time she turned around, someone was hiding a tape recorder or setting up a camera tripod. She’d heard the excuse “just testing equipment” so many times that afternoon that she wanted to scream. She knew if she left for five minutes, they’d start filming.
And she didn’t know what to do to stop it. So leaving tonight? Bad idea.
But if she cancelled on Jericho, he’d think she was choosing her ex over him.
And she really, really didn’t want him to think that.
So she stewed and watched people hide cameras behind their backs when she walked into the room, and eventually retreated to her kitchen to bake until eight that night.
She baked oatmeal raisin cookies. She did not bake éclairs.
When the motorcycle roared outside, she was just pulling the last pan of baked goods out of the oven. She set it on a cooling rack, grabbed the bag of cookies she’d made for Jericho, and tore her apron off, heading for the front door.
Braden was there as she left. “Hey, Em, can we talk?”
Of all the timing… “Does it have to be right now?”
He stared down at the bag of cookies in her hand. “Is that for your ‘friend’?”
“If it is, I don’t see what business it is of yours.” But she felt guilty all the same.
“Em, please.” He moved forward, touched her arm, and then both of his hands were on her, the look on his face woebegone. “You know that guy’s all wrong for you. I’m the one that’s right for you.”
“But you abandoned me,” she said, heart hurting. Why was he making this so difficult?
“I just want a second chance. And you’re not taken, so don’t I deserve that second chance?”
She said nothing. After all, she wasn’t taken, was she? The motorcycle’s purr got louder, impatient. “I have to go,” she told him. “I’ll be home later.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She would have loved to hear that two years ago, when she’d been an afterthought to him. Now? It just annoyed her. Forcing a smile to her face, Emily headed out the door and toward the motorcycle waiting on her lawn.
“You okay?” Jericho asked, handing her his spare helmet.
“I’m not sure.”
She put the bag of cookies in the seat compartment, then sat down and wrapped her arms around his chest, resting her cheek against his back.
“Don’t you want to ask where we’re going?” He sounded amused.
“Not really,” Emily said. “Away from here works for me.”
“Got it,” he said, and pulled away.
They rode down the highway for a time, trees whizzing past. The night was full of stars and headlights, and Emily sank against Jericho’s back and just relaxed, letting the night atmosphere take her away.
Maybe she wouldn’t be so rattled by Braden’s reappearance if she knew what was going on between her and Jericho.
She didn’t realize she wanted more until Braden had asked her just what ‘they’ were. She’d almost said he was her boyfriend…and then stopped. Because he hadn’t been interested in a relationship, had he? He’d made that clear the first time they’d slept together, and so she’d rattled on and on about how she wasn’t really looking for a husband. At the time, she supposed she wasn’t. Heck, she still wasn’t.
After spending weeks with Jericho, she knew she didn’t really want anyone else but him. But if things weren’t going anywhere…maybe she should try again with Braden, her eyes open to his flaws.
She just didn’t know. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why couldn’t the right guy want her for more than just great sex?
Eventually he pulled off the road at the lake, and parked next to a jeep. She raised her head and looked around, surprised. “Where are we going?”
“To the docks,” he said, pulling off his helmet. “I thought it’d be a good place to sit and talk. That ok with you?”
She nodded and pulled off her own helmet, then grabbed the cookies.
To her surprise, he offered her his hand and she took it, letting him lead her out.
They walked down to the marina, and Emily’s ears were filled with the night sounds of locusts and the lapping of water against the sides of the boats. Jericho led her down the creaky wooden dock until they got to the end of the fishing pier, and he gestured for her to sit down.
She did, dangling her legs over the side and watching her white sneakers move back and forth as she swung her feet.
There was a long, tense pause between them. Then, she spoke. “Why are we here?” Emily asked, curious. “I mean, the marina is nice and all but I didn’t peg you for a nighttime fisherman.”
“I’m not. I told you that I’m crashing with a few friends, right?”
She nodded.
“It started out as temporary but I’m coming on to six months now. I started paying them rent, which is kind of a joke considering all I do is show up and sleep on the couch.” He laughed, but it was too dark to see if his smile was genuine. “I was saving up to figure out what I wanted to do, you know? Seemed silly to rent an apartment if I wasn’t sure that the area could support a handyman-slash-plumber or if I’d have to pull up stakes. But I keep finding reasons to stay.” He paused for a long moment, and then continued. “Anyhow, when I need to get away and think, I come here.”
“Makes sense.”
“And I kinda thought we’d come here because it seemed like you needed to get away. Unless I read things wrong.” His hand was flat on the dock between them and she couldn’t stop looking at it.
“Get away?” She echoed. “From the house?” She wished he’d hold her hand again.
“Yeah. With the ex and all. I guess I’m asking if you’re ok. And if you are ok, did you want me to buzz off?”
Was she okay with things? Not really.
Did she want him to buzz off? Not at all.
And it was so unlike someone to notice how Emily was doing – Emily, who always tried to make everyone comfortable and well fed and kept a stiff upper lip no matter what – that she trembled. It wasn’t that she was cold; it was like her body couldn’t handle all the conflicting emotions inside it. She didn’t know what to do, what to think – so she shook like a frightened puppy. Kind of sad, really.
“Here,” Jericho said, and he shrugged off his leather jacket and then draped it around her shoulders, mistaking her shiver.
She wanted to correct him, but the jacket was warm and heavy and smelled like Jericho. So she burrowed deeper into it and gave a small sigh. “I should be able to handle all of this, shouldn’t I?”
“I think it’s natural to get emotional when you’re around your ex.” After a moment, he added, “It sounds like he misses you.”
“It does sound like that, doesn’t it?” Gosh, her voice was bitter. “But what it sounds like and what it really is are two different things. I learned that the hard way with Braden.”
Jericho paused. “He said he wanted you back. That what you want?”
She swallowed hard, thinking. Trying to gauge his reaction. If she told him what she really wanted, would he run off and leave her? Could she handle being abandoned twice? “I think I’d really like for you to hold my hand again,” she said in a small voice.
He reached over and took her hand in his. “That’s easy enough to do.” His thumb brushed against her palm, sending ticklish feelings up her nerve endings. “Better?”
“Yeah.”
They sat there for a long, quiet moment, just holding hands and listening to the water. Then, Jericho broke the silence. “I know I’m not exactly a great catch. I’m the town outcast. A drifter, I guess. A bad boy. Not the kind of guy you bring home to Mom, you know? I have tattoos and piercings and I’m pretty much the only one in my family that hasn’t spent time in prison. I don’t have a place of my own yet. I really don’t have a lot to offer a girl like you. Not like Braden.”
She blinked. Looked over at him. Her fingers curled against his, squeezing his hand. “What do you mean, a girl like me?”
“I mean, I’ve never really dated anyone like you. Most of the chicks I’ve seen have been casual hook-ups. I feel like I’m not the right kind of guy for you because you’re so pretty and sweet and you like to bake and do stuff around the house. I’m not used to that kind of girl.”
He made her sound like the most boring woman on earth. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I like it. I really do.” This time he squeezed her hand, and she could have sworn he moved a little closer to her on the dock. “I just don’t have much to offer that kind of girl. Braden’s got a great job, and probably a college education, and savings, and shit like that.”
“Yeah, Braden’s just great on paper,” she said, resentment clouding her voice. “But when I needed him, he took off to pursue his own ideas and left me to clean up the mess. You know what I want in a guy? Someone that loves me for who I am and sticks around to help me change the light bulbs. That’s all that I ask.”
He looked thoughtful. “I do change a mean light bulb.”
A giggle escaped her.
“I guess I just have a hard time asking a girl to take a chance on me when I don’t feel like I have much to offer.”
She gaped. Just a little. “Not much to offer? Are you kidding? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re kind, you’re good with your hands, you’re great in bed, and you make me laugh and feel totally comfortable.” This time, it was Emily that scooted a little closer. “And best of all, you are always there when I need you.”
“Well,” he said softly. “All right then.”
She tilted her head back and gazed up at him. “You make me happy and you’re there for me. I don’t think a girl could ask for more.”
“So…all that shit I said about us being casual? I lied. I don’t want you seeing anyone but me.”
“I don’t want anyone but you,” she whispered happily. “And I don’t want you to see anyone but me.”
“Emily Allard-Smith, ever since I met you, I haven’t been able to see anyone but you.”
“See, there you go again, always saying the right things,” she said, snuggling up to him. He looped an arm around her shoulders and he felt so good, so very right. “And I’m pretty sure I’m going to go back to just Emily Allard. The ‘Smith’ part kind of gets on my nerves.”
He laughed. “Me too. Me fucking too.”
She grinned up at him.
Jericho smiled down at her and leaned in and lightly, ever so lightly, brushed his lips over her mouth. “You’re pretty amazing, Emily Allard.”
“You are too, Jericho Lozada,” she said, and pushed in for more kisses, her arms going around his neck. The jacket slid off her back and pooled onto the dock, but she didn’t care. The taste of Jericho, the feel of him, the scent of him, it enveloped her, and she was gloriously, deliriously happy. “So,” she breathed against his mouth when they parted. “You ever made love on a dock?”
~~ * * *~~
They did, in fact, make love on the dock. It was tricky because they left most of their clothing on in case of splinters. It ended up being a lot of mutual masturbation until Jericho shoved his pants down, pulled out a condom, and pushed Emily’s panties aside and thrust into her. Then, Jericho had to keep muffling Emily’s orgasmic shrieks with kisses, but they both managed to come until they were seeing stars – both literally and figuratively – and stagger back to his motorcycle an hour later.
Emily clung to Jericho, feeling lazy and wonderful, as he strapped the bike helmet under her chin. “I’d ask you to move in with me tonight, you know, but I feel like my house has been invaded by the Spooky Squad.” She made an unhappy face.
He cupped her chin. “It’s your house. You said you got it in the divorce, right? Make him leave. Unless you want me to make him leave.”
“No, I can handle it,” she said. “Unless you think it’s too bitchy of me to throw out my ex and all his employees when I’m the only bed and breakfast in town?”
“Oh, it’d be bitchy,” Jericho said with a laugh. “And it’d make me damn happy.”
Come to think of it, it’d make her pretty happy, too. “My sister’s dating a cop,” she told him. “A really big one. Think I should call in a favor?”
“What else are all those brownies you bake for?” He leaned in and kissed her. “I’ll support you whatever you want to do, you know. I’m here for you.”
Happy tears filled her eyes. That was all she’d ever wanted – support and understanding. “I know. And I appreciate it more than you can ever imagine.” She pulled out her cellphone and grimaced at the time. “I hope Luanne’s working tonight or she’s going to be super grumpy.”
“I guess it doesn’t have to be tonight,” Jericho said thoughtfully. “You could always kick them out in the morning.”
“Oh, it needs to be tonight,” she assured him. “Or else they’re going to film their stupid show. I just have a feeling.” With that horrible thought running through her head, she pulled up Luanne’s number and hit ‘call’.
Luanne answered on the first ring. “I can see the Spooky Squad vans in front of your house, and I’d like to say just one thing. If you’re calling me to tell me you’ve reconciled with That Man, as your sister, I love you and support you, but I’m not thrilled.”
Emily giggled. “Actually, I was wondering if Hank was busy.”
“Oh, he’s out playing patrol cop. It’s a quiet night. What’s up?”
“I seem to have a lot of uninvited guests at my house.”
Luanne made an excited squeal in the back of her throat. “Oh my God, can I please please please send him over to throw everyone out?”
“What are sisters for?”
~~ * * * ~~
Within an hour, Luanne had called Hank Sharp back from his patrol and sent him on to the Peppermint House, just in time for Emily and Jericho to pull up on Jericho’s motorcycle.
She waved at Hank as she pulled her helmet off.
When he approached, Hank gestured at her now-dark house. “You sure you want to do this? All the lights are off. They might be asleep.”
Emily looked at the Spooky Squad vans in her parking lot. “If I know my ex, they turned off the lights because they’re having a taping session against my wishes. The dark makes things more dramatic, you know.”
Hank adjusted the night stick on his belt. “All right. Want me to go in first?”
Emily shook her head and smiled at Jericho. “No, that’s my job.”
She went up the porch steps and pushed open her front door…and nearly tripped on a tangle of extension cords that crossed the threshold. Anger flared in Emily’s mind, but she forced it back. “Watch your step,” she said, familiar with this sort of thing. “Just like I thought, they’re filming and they have cords everywhere.”
They stepped carefully through the house, past scattered equipment that had likely been unboxed the moment Emily had left the house. Sure enough, she found Braden at the base of her attic stairs, just about to head up, a cute Spooky Squad assistant hovering close by. He had his EMF meter in hand and the assistant was filming with a handheld camera.
“Caught red handed, I see,” Emily said drily and flicked on the hall light.
Braden squinted in her direction, and then his gaze focused on the extremely tall police officer behind her. “Emily, what’s going on?”
“I’m getting the police to toss you and your crew out of my house,” she said, and was surprised at the vindictive thrill she felt saying those words. “I don’t want you back, I don’t want you here, I most certainly do not want you filming, and for the last time, I do not have ghosts. I had possums.”
“Nine of them,” Jericho added. He crossed his big, tattooed arms and looked rather menacing. She liked that.
Braden’s eyes narrowed. He rushed forward, pocketing his meter and waving aside his assistant. When he got to Emily, he tried to pull her aside, but Jericho stepped in front, blocking Braden’s view. That was sweet of him.
“It’s okay,” she told Jericho. “I’ve got this covered.” And she did, she really did.
“Please tell me you’re not kicking me out because of something this felon said,” Braden hissed at her in a low voice.
“I’m not,” Emily said easily. “I’m kicking you out because I asked you time and time again not to film here, and the only reason you’re here is not for me, but for your show. You’ve always put it above what I wanted, and this time, I’m getting what I want. And what I want is for you to get out.”
“You can’t make me,” Braden said. “My name is on the mortgage too!”
Hank stepped forward, all nearly-seven-feet of him. His stern face looked ominous even to Emily. “If I’m understanding Miss Emily correctly, you forfeited the house when you were divorced two years ago. Is that correct?”
Braden’s face flushed.
“If that’s so, then I imagine your contracts were amended and your name taken off the mortgage. Am I still correct?” Hank’s tone was mild but he placed a hand on the pommel of his nightstick.
Braden said nothing.
“Then I would assume you have no claim on this house anymore,” Hank said. “Now tell me again that you aren’t going to leave this house.”
“I’ll start packing,” said Braden’s assistant, her eyes wide.
“I thought so,” Hank said. “And I’ll just stick around to make sure you all don’t trouble Miss Emily.” He crossed his arms and stood in the hallway like a sentinel, waiting.
Braden looked back at Emily helplessly. “Please, baby—“
“Not your baby,” she said sweetly. “Not any longer.”
He scowled and stormed away, grabbing a camera off of a nearby tripod and beginning to dismantle it, shooting her glares as he did.
An arm went around her shoulders, and Jericho drew her against him. “That was awesome. I’m really proud of you.”
“I’m rather proud of me, too.” And she was. It was her house and her life, and she’d live it however she damn well wanted.
“It does bring up a point, though.”
She looked up at him, all tattooed and pierced and fierce and so utterly gorgeous. “What’s that?”
Jericho gave her one of those sultry looks that made her panties wet. “If you’re not going to be his baby, will you be mine?”
She turned and put her arms around his neck. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” And she pulled him down to her in a sweet, possessive kiss.
They were still kissing when Braden left.
The End