Chapter Fifteen
EMERY
“WANT TO WATCH a movie?” I ask. Jeopardy has been over for forty minutes, but Reid is still here.
The ice cream has turned soupy, and our fingers are sticky.
Each time our forearms brush together as we battle our spoons together for the piece of cookie dough, my heart races a little bit more.
Jeopardy was our excuse to see each other, but I realize now, I don’t want him to leave.
Reid shifts his body to face mine and suddenly our knees are touching. That’s what strikes me as oddly intimate, even though we’ve been eating ice cream from the carton together, double dipping repeatedly.
He’s quiet for a beat, making me nervous that he’ll say no. I pick up the ice cream, place the lid on top and return it to the freezer. I come back with wet paper towels for our fingers and the old coffee table where the ice cream dripped.
“I should probably get going,” he finally says.
My face betrays me then. It’s not that I’m afraid to be alone anymore. I have felt better the past few days. It’s that I’m enjoying his company so much.
“It’s just that, I have to open tomorrow. I’ve dropped the ball on Tate this week too many times already.” Reid scratches his jaw.
“Okay,” I say, keeping my distance. “I want to get out to the marsh before first light anyway. I should probably get some sleep.”
Reid doesn’t move, his eyes finding mine. Instead, he relaxes into the couch and pats the spot I just got up from. “How about…I stay for another hour, and we just talk? Continue getting to know each other.”
I smirk. “You hate talking.”
Reid scoffs, shaking his head. “I do not hate talking.”
I smirk, crossing my arms. “Reid, I’ve been here for three weeks, and I already know that about you.” I grin.
Reid looks away, setting his gaze on a State Farm Insurance commercial before flicking his eyes back to mine. “For reasons I can’t explain…I don’t hate talking to you.”
It’s raw and honest, and it makes me want to climb in his lap.
Instead, I walk back to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge.
I hand him one and settle myself on the other end of the couch, straightening my legs out so the tips of my heels just graze his thigh. His very large, rock-hard thigh.
Reid takes a swig of cold water, letting out an ahh sound before placing it on the end table. Then his large palms circle my right foot, kneading the arches and eliciting a moan out of me.
Reid looks my way, a flush creeping up his neck. “I was going to rub your feet but not if you make noises like that.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “Noises like what?”
“You know. That moan that just came out of you. I can’t have that.”
“Oh no?” I frown, attempting to pull my foot back but Reid tightens his grip. “And just why not?”
“Emery.” Reid’s voice comes out like a rasp, husky and filled with everything I’m feeling inside.
“Reid,” I whisper.
“What’s your favorite color?” His lips quirk and I appreciate the change of subject. There’s an electric charge between us that it seems we’re both desperately trying to fight. Suddenly, I can’t remember why.
“Sea foam green. What’s yours?”
“Black.” His answer is automatic.
“Like your soul?” I tease.
“Very funny.” He digs his thumb into my foot playfully and I let out a little yelp.
“Favorite band?” I purse my lips.
“Pearl Jam.” Another auto answer. “You?”
“I like all music,” I admit with a tip of my shoulder. “I don’t really have a favorite.”
“Song then.” Reid waits, studying me.
I pretend to mull this over, but I don’t even have to think about it. “Into the Mystic by Van Morrison.”
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Figures you’d pick a song about the sea. It suits you, Doc.”
“Thanks.” A soft smile pulls at my lips.
Reid’s thumbs work in slow circles over the arch of my left foot before he moves back to my right. He kneads, strong and careful at the same time, watching me, and I let my eyes flutter closed. The room is quiet except for the hum of the old fridge in the kitchen and my own uneven breathing.
“This is the first time in weeks I’ve felt human,” I murmur.
“Guess I’ve still got some skills besides hauling in boats and fixing engines.” His voice is low, almost teasing, but there’s something real beneath it. Reid slides an index finger up the length of my foot, tracing a circle around my ankle before moving up my calf, tickling behind my knee.
I squeal, jerking my foot back.
“What?” Reid’s brow pulls tight.
I bite down a laugh. “You tickled me.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows. “Did not.”
“You did.” I wiggle my toes on his thigh, and he catches my foot before I can pull it back again. His hands wrap around my ankle, pulling me closer until I sit up, a jolt running straight through me.
The playful air shifts, now sharp and charged with longing. His grip softens but he doesn’t let go and in one unthinking movement, I slide into his lap, my knees bent awkwardly and my breath caught in my throat.
Reid’s hands find my hips, almost instinctively, steadying me. Then my legs are on either side, straddling him. I grip the collar of his worn T-shirt.
“Careful,” he rasps, but he doesn’t sound careful at all.
My pulse thrums. We’re too close, our faces inches apart, his breath warm against my cheek. Every reason I should stay away from Reid dissolves under the weight of his touch.
“Emery.” His voice is rough, jagged and sexy. “We shouldn’t.”
“I know…but I can’t remember why.”
For a long, suspended moment, neither of us moves. Reid’s jaw tics as my fingers curl into his shirt, our breaths synchronized and desperate. And then his mouth is on mine.
The first brush of his lips steals the breath from my lungs.
It’s not tentative, it’s urgent, restrained only by his desire to remain in control.
I feel him harden beneath me, and I press myself into him, eliciting a throaty groan from him.
He tastes like salt and the faintest hint of cookie dough ice cream, and when his hand slides higher up my waist, I let myself melt into him.
Every thought, every doubt about what this might be, scatters.
All that exists is the press of his mouth, the rough scrape of his beard against my skin, and the ragged sound he makes when I kiss him back.
It’s reckless, but it was inevitable, like the tide pulling me under.
Reid opens deeper for me, his mouth slanting over mine with a hunger that makes my thighs ache.
I cling to him, running my fingers up the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck.
Reid nips at my lower lip and pulls back, resting his forehead on mine. His breath is still ragged, his chest rising hard beneath my hands.
“Emery,” he says, my name on his lips is gravel and restraint, a warning and a plea all at once.
I swallow, my heart crashing against my ribs.
The room tilts, the thick air filled with everything we’ve both been fighting since the day we met.
I should move, I should say something intelligent, remind myself of all the reasons this is dangerous.
But my body betrays me, and I lean into him instead of away.
“I—I…” My voice cracks, too soft. “I shouldn’t want this.”
“Yeah,” Reid says, brushing a thumb against my waist. “Me neither.”
But neither of us lets go.
I fold into him, my body still humming, my lips swollen. Reid’s hands draw lazy circles on my lower back, like he can’t seem to make himself stop touching me.
I open my mouth to speak but I can’t find the words. All that comes out is a shaky exhale.
Reid draws back an inch, peering down at my face as if he’s memorizing it.
His jaw is tight, his eyes dark green with a fire that makes my stomach flip.
For a moment, I think he might kiss me again, drown us both in the inevitability of it all.
Instead, he presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips soft and warm.
“I should go,” he murmurs. His hands linger at my waist for a moment longer before he gently lifts me off and stands. “I’ll see you in the morning. Before first light.” His voice is low, rough with want, and when his eyes lock with mine, I see the desperation to stay.
He turns for the door, bracing one hand against the frame, his knuckles white.
He pauses, taking deep breaths for a moment before looking back at me.
Our eyes lock and the heat in his gaze is enough to buckle my resolve—to make me run to him and pull him to my bed.
But neither of us caves, and then he’s gone, leaving me wondering what I could’ve done to make him want to stay.