Page 42 of Owning Emma

Chapter 19

SHAW

Roman didn’t get it.I wasn’t mad that he kissed Emma, I was angry that he blew off everything I said last night, completely disregarded my offer to be more, and then he kissed the girl. He apologized, the bulk of his body taking up the doorframe around me as he told me in countless ways how he hadn’t meant for that to happen.

I didn’t give a fuck that it did, and despite what I told Emma while I was sulking about the rejection I felt, the kiss had been hot. So hot that hours later, my cock was achy and weeping from lack of completion. The thought in itself was a miracle. It had been years since I even considered taking a woman of my own to bed. But, with Emma? Hell, I might’ve been willing to take her every damn night.

She kept watching me from the other side of the bakery as I worked on my spreadsheet inputs. Her large, green eyes met mine and seared into me before she quickly looked away. I felt every glance she gave me like she was leaving impressions on my skin without the physical touch.

It was just after the afternoon rush when she finally spoke to me again. She placed a plate of cookies in front of me then handed me a hot coffee. “Peace offering?”

“I thought we already had peace.” I took the coffee from her, taking a sip.

“I think we both know you were slightly touchy this morning.” She took the seat across from me.

“Well, I had little sleep while sitting at the kitchen island. I think I’m entitled to be grumpy. Don’t you think?” I dipped a flower cookie into the coffee before taking a bite.

“Did you two fight?” she blurted out.

I thought about lying to her, but what would that serve? “We had a disagreement.”

“About me?” She swirled her finger on the table in front of her.

“Why would it be about you?” It was, honestly, but it was more than that. It was about us. About Roman’s unwillingness to understand the potential we could all have together. His reluctance to try.

“I don’t know. Every line blurred this morning and it was my fault.”

“Hey, Cardigan, look at me.” I reached over and tilted her head up. “Nothing was your fault. We already were a bit on the edge from our conversation last night, you hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“Maybe I hadn’t, but I don’t think I was a hundred percent right, either,” she confessed, guilt written all over her face, and I just wanted to take her in my arms. Assure her that all was well and give her the sunshine and rainbows I knew she deserved.

But, the truth was, all wasn’t okay. Both Roman and I wanted Emma. He could deny it all he wanted but the kiss I witnessed told another tale. But, past our friendship, the complications didn’t just end there. She was his employee. Her life was in danger. Krank wanted her something fierce, and we didn’t know who we could trust to keep her safe.

That thought was sobering.

“Emma, don’t worry about Roman and I. We’re best friends, a little tension between us on occasion isn’t something new.”

“Promise?”

Shit, I would promise anything if it meant she kept looking at me like that. “I pinky swear.”

I held out my pinky toward her and waited as a slow grin appeared on her face before she leaned forward, hooking her small pinky around my large one and giving it a shake. “Good.”

* * *

Hours later,Emma was flurrying around our home kitchen in a panic, trying to make sure we had all the ingredients for the baking and cooking, so that she wasn’t caught unprepared for our guests. She opened the cabinet for the tenth time, counting the flour and sugar, then went to the fridge to no doubt check on the eggs and butter.

I slammed down my pen. “Enough. You have every damn thing you need and if you don’t, you can march to any one of the cabins and demand one of those men make a supply run for you. They would do it, no questions asked. And not because they are polite, but because every damn one of them is wrapped around your finger. If you open that cabinet one more time Emma, I swear . . .”

She stopped, her head tilted to the side. “You swear what, Shaw?”

Well, actually . . . I hadn’t really thought that far. “I swear I’ll . . . you know . . . never mind.”

“No, you can’t just never mind me, now. I need to know if the threat is valid.”

“The threat is always valid, just so you know.” I picked my pen back up to begin to write.

“I don’t feel like it’s very validated right now.” She reached over, and opened the cabinet.

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