Page 35 of Engulfing Emma

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“How is that feisty daughter of yours?” Mrs. Shettleman asks me.

“Still feisty.”

“You’ll bring her by this summer, won’t you?”

“Of course. We’d better go. It was nice seeing you. I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“And you, dear,” she says, giving me another hug.

Outside, I take one more look at the school and then walk in the opposite direction.

“They’re a nice old couple,” Brett says.

“They are. They didn’t deserve to be robbed.”

“Nobodydeserves bad things to happen to them.”

“Except maybe Kenny Lutwig,” I say.

“Maybe not even him. You don’t know his story. Could be he lost a parent too, and never learned how to cope.”

Suddenly, Brett stops walking and turns around, staring blankly down another street.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking about someone I met who lives over that way.”

He looks torn between wanting to stay with me or walk away. Is he thinking of a woman? If he is, why would I even care? Except that after the way he held me in his arms, I do care.

“Emma, I want to walk you home, but there is something I need to do.”

I wave him off. “I’m not a child, Brett,” I say curtly. “I don’t need an escort.”

“I know you don’t. But I was going to walk with you anyway. Maybe next time?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“So, Friday?” he asks. “Same time, same bench?”

I consider turning him down. But I realize seeing him every three days has been the highlight of my summer, even if nothing can ever come of it. I don’t seem to have any control over myself around him. It’s something I haven’t felt around a guy in over twelve years. Heck, if I’m being honest—ever. So I don’t turn him down, even though I should. But I don’t, because I tell myself I’m the one in control. And because, apparently, I’m a stupid, stupid girl.

Chapter Thirteen

Brett

I don’t turn around to see if she’s watching me walk away. I’ll pretend she is. Because I can’t seem to get a solid vibe from her. Sometimes, like when she was in my arms and it felt so right to be holding her, I think I want to ask her out. But then she gets all cold on me, like a few minutes ago when she snapped at me about not needing an escort. She’s fighting something, and it’s more than her struggle to get through what happened at the school.

I’ve never felt the need to protect anyone as much as I want to protect Emma. When I was holding her, I realized I didn’t ever want to see her cry again. I wanted to do everything in my power to make things all right for her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I’m sure she thought I was a grade-A idiot.

I try to put it out of my mind when I get to my destination a few blocks over. An FDNY car is parked in the street. I climb the front steps, the smell of an old fire wafting in the air. A familiar face appears.

“Lt. Cash,” Kellan Brown says, slinging his kit over a shoulder. Kellan is one of the investigators who figures out how fires are started.

“Hey, Captain. You have a cause for this one?”

“Faulty wiring in the kitchen.”

---