Emmett had gently sucked on my skin there just a few hours ago, leaving the mark.
My heart lurched.
It had beensogood, when we were together.
What business did I have making out with him and coming all over his chest? I still felt like it was an equation that didn’t add up, a puzzle where I could barely make any pieces fit.
I hated him, but I really liked him, too. He felt so good, and then I hated him all over again. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been as turned on as I was earlier, and every second we spent with our clothes off felt so right.
So muchright, and so muchwrong.
All wrapped up in the same person.
I hopped in the shower, attempting to blast heat over my body and erase it all from my mind.
13
EMMETT
The Saturday morning farmer’s market on Spruce Street was already bustling by nine o’clock in the morning.
“Thisfeels like fall,” I heard Landry’s voice from behind me and I turned to see him hopping off his bike, leaning it over to chain it up.
I squinted at him in the golden sunlight. “Morning,” I said. “It really does. I think I’m going to beeline for an apple cider donut and a—”
“Let me guess,” he said. “Pumpkin spice latte?”
I held up a finger. “Pumpkin spicecappuccino, today, I think.”
“Wow,” Landry said, standing up and taking off his bike helmet. “Really changing it up these days, I see.”
I pulled in a long breath of the crisp air. It had been a few days of steady rain after the night with the thunderstorm, but just in time for the farmer’s market this morning, the grey had given way to chilly air and some sunlight again.
“I even busted out my scarf for this temperature,” I said. “I really needed this, Lucky. Thanks for meeting me.”
Landry and I walked toward the entrance, greeted by the smells of coffee, sugar, and the cinnamon-scented promised land of apple cider donuts. Little crowds and groups of people wavered between stands of fresh flowers, food, and handmade goods.
“I hesitate to ask,” Landry said, cutting me a glance from the side as we walked, “but how have you been, since that night at your house?”
I sighed. “About as bad as you might expect.”
Landry squeezed my shoulder. “Storm clearly doesn’t know what you’ve been through. I don’t think he was trying to say you’re some soulless, money-grubbing prick like Cutmore.”
Of course Landry had known immediately that the subject was a sensitive one for me. He’d known me for a long time, and had especially seen how my ex Sam had treated me like a walking dollar sign. He’d also seen how certain distant family and friends had come to me like circling sharks, looking for a piece of my dad’s money justdaysafter he’d died.
The thought still made me sick.
“You’re right. Storm doesn’t know how much it hurt me,” I said. “But I’m not going to sit around and try to sweet-talk him when he’s acting like he wants to get in a bar fight with me in my own home.”
“Both of you got heated.”
I stubbornly wished Landry wasn’t right. “This week has sucked at the office. You should be glad you were out on site with clients, because every time I passed by Cutmore’s office I got mad all over again. Every time I heard people talking about Rodgett, too.”
“The renovations at Storm’s house start this week, don’t they? I’m sure you’ll be out on site there plenty.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn’t know if being at his house was better or worse than the office, right now.
“The guys at the Fixer Brothers told me they’ve hired extra help. This renovation should be one of the fastest turnarounds they’ve ever had. I want it to be done quickly and I can move on with the Racks deal. Move on with my life.”