Page 30 of Teasing

“Cujo?” Rosie asks. “What’s a Cujo?”

Emmie’s teeth run over her bottom lip as she tries to figure out how to answer my daughter, and I enjoy the way she squirms. “Yeah, Emmie... What’s a Cujo?”

Her eye twitches. “It’s just a nickname, little rose. Now why don’t you go wash your hands and grab the paintings we did so you can show them to your dad? It’s time for me to go home, but I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

My daughter turns to Emmie and throws her arms around her waist. “Promise?”

“Yup. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She adjusts Rosie’s ponytail and watches as my girl darts away before she fixes her eyes on me and cocks a perfectly arched caramel-colored brow. The golden flecks in her warm eyes shine bright. Oh yeah, this woman is pissed. “That is if I still have a job tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was your brother?” I grit through clenched teeth, appreciative of the subject change and the reason to stop imagining other ways to make her eyes practically glow.

She blinks, clearly shocked. “I started to tell you this morning, but we were interrupted.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” I cross the kitchen and move into her personal space. “Why didn’t you ever mention he lived with you?”

Emmie’s sigh screams of pure frustration. “Because he hasn’t lived in that house in a decade, Maverick.” She takes a step back, stopping when her back hits the cool counter. A pretty flush creeps up her face, and her shoulders tighten like she’s readying for a fight... Or for something else. “My life isn’t like yours.”

Her words are whispered and weighted and full of pain.

And they hit harder than I think she even realizes.

I move in front of her... too close but not close enough. Wanting to... what? Comfort her, when I’m the cause of the pain?

This woman is twenty-one.

She’s five years younger than me.

She’s watching my daughter.

She’s my damn employee . . .

But fuck, she’s beautiful and frustrating and so damn sexy.

I grip the island on either side of her, caging her in with nowhere left to go. Her breathing picks up, and her warm breath dances over my jaw, making it so damn hard to resist her.

Her pulse thrums wildly at the base of her neck, and Christ, I want to feel that under my tongue. I want to taste her skin.

“Then tell me what it’s like, Emmie.” My words are thick and heavy. Heavier than I intended. “Make me understand.”

“No.” Two delicate hands press firmly against my pecs, and I immediately back up, doused by a freezing cold bucket of ice those two letters invoke, yanked back to reality.

“Shit . . . Emmie . . . I’m sorry . . .”

“It’s fine. It’s just not something I feel like talking about.” Her hands drag slowly down my chest before she pulls them away from my body. “Tell Rosie I said goodbye, okay?”

She slides by me and grabs a pink bag from one of the counter stools. “See ya tomorrow, Maverick.”

“Bye, Emmie.” I stand, frozen, as she lets herself out the back door, wondering what the fuck I just did.

“Smooth, Mav. Real smooth,” Jamie mocks as he walks into the kitchen, clearly having seen what just went down, before he pulls a tray of chicken out of the fridge. “Brother, you are out of practice.”

“The fuck I am. I out-benched you, dickhead, and I’d out-squat you too, if we’d done that today.”

“You’re a defensive end, asswipe. I’m a linebacker. You sure as shit had better be able to out-lift me or you’re slacking on the job. But that’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He points to the door Emmie just walked through. “That girl has gotten under your skin, and you know that too. She’s the first one I’ve seen do that since college. Now you gotta decide what you’re going to do about it.”

“She’s not under my skin.” The lie tastes like sawdust in my mouth. There’s something about Emmie... I don’t have a clue what it is, and I don’t need to because I’m not acting on it.

Doesn’t mean it’s not there though.

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