“But?”
“Look, Emma,” he sighed, obviously trying to tamp down his anger. “I know none of you wanted it to happen in the first place. You should be grateful. I need to head back to LA soon anyway, so you won’t have to babysit me anymore.”
Emma inhaled sharply. That hurt. She’d thought they’d gone beyond that and were developing a close friendship, if not more. If this was any indication of the way he treated his friends, it was no wonder he didn’t have any.
But just as quickly as that thought popped into her head, another one did too. He was trying to push her away. He was purposely attempting to make her angry with him.
Not going to work, Titan.
Emma sensed Marcus desperately needed friends. Even long-distance ones after he returned to LA. There was something about him that screamed of his incredible loneliness. She wanted to help him but needed to reinforce her defenses, ensuring she came out unscathed in the process. Thoughts of the bogus headlines written about her a year ago threatened to derail her intentions, but she ruthlessly pushed them aside.
Ignoring the babysitter comment, she asserted, “You need to finish it.”
“Why is it so important to you?” he bit out. “I figured you’d be relieved. I’m pretty sure Graham would be.”
Emma tilted her head slightly to the left as she thought about it, her eyes drawn to his fingers tapping on the table. The incessant tapping focused her thoughts as she stared. They were strong hands but could caress with a gentleness that made her tingle. She couldn’t help but wonder if they were the type of hands that would protect a heart or crush it.
“I’m just remembering something Natalie said that night in Jolene’s when we were discussing your offer. Remember when you came to us with the proposal to help us rebuild the warehouse if we let you write the screenplay?” She paused as he nodded. “You left us alone to talk about it. We went around the table, each giving our thoughts. It was my idea, by the way, to have you train with us.”
He snorted. “Of course, it was.”
“Anyway,” she continued with a smile. “Natalie said something about your fan base that stuck with me. And seeing those boys tonight reminded me.” The anger and indifference slowly lifted from his expression to be replaced with curiosity and interest. “She said the work the Nighthawks did was important, and if you did the movie, it would bring attention to the purpose ofallfirst responders. She figured that like what happened after nine-eleven when there was an influx of donations to fire stations across the country, maybe the same thing would happen after people saw the importance of first responders on the big screen.
“Not only that, but she reminded us about your younger fan base,” she went on. “Imagine as kids from around the world watched their favorite superhero saving liveswithoutsuperpowers. And when they find out that the movie is about real people, real careers, maybe they will think that they could do that too. Those two boys tonight may grow up to be EMTs or firefighters, policemen, or, yes, maybe even future Nighthawks.”
“I think that would have more to do with your influence than anything.” She smiled, blushing slightly at the compliment. “Did you see their faces when they realized you’d climbed back up?” he chuckled. “They were shocked!” She joined in his laughter.
“I think it had more to do with the fact that I was a woman who could climb than anything else.”
“No, Emma,” he said, reaching across the table to place his hand over hers. “Your gender had nothing to do with it. You impressed the hell out of those kids just because of whoyouare. Your strength. Your patience and gentleness with the boy that was too scared to move. I know because you impress the hell out of me every day.” Her blush heated her face, she hated how easily the color rose to her cheeks. She was saved having to reply by his ringing phone. He pulled it out and frowned at the display.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this.” He stood from the table and moved the few feet to stand in front of the windows. Emma took the opportunity to carry their dirty plates into the kitchen to rinse them and place them in the dishwasher. As she finished wiping up the counter, she could hear Marcus in a heated discussion with whoever was on the other end of the phone.
“I already told you no,” he said into the phone. “No stories. No exposés. If I spot even one photographer near me or one of my friends, you are finished. Understand?” He paused to listen to the response. It was apparent that Marcus was at his wits’ end with whoever he was talking to. He paced in front of the windows, hair sticking up with the number of times he ran his fingers through it. It was sexy as hell. She could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves, but it was the unleashed fury that fascinated her the most. What would he be like if he let go of his self-control, especially in the bedroom. The woman who would experience all that pent-up energy in his bed was a lucky girl.
“Shit, Colleen!” he shouted in frustration, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I don’t know how to make it anymoreclear to you! I’m not here for the publicity. Hell, I don’tneedany more publicity. And I wouldneveruse anybody like that. I’m not like you. I don’t use people to further my career!” Emma winced. Ouch, that was harsh.
His voice lowered, turning even more threatening. “If I find you leaked any of the Nighthawk names, if I read even one article about them tied to me, one blog, one social media post, anything, I will know exactly who to blame.” He was protecting the Nighthawks. That was both surprising and the sweetest thing ever. She wished she’d had someone to protect her like that last year during her horrible ordeal with the media.
The Coast Guard had tried to shield her, but public perceptions had already branded her. The members of her team who had been with her that day were loved in the community; they were family men. As the sole survivor, everyone had wondered if she could have done more to save them and blamed her for the loss of their men. The press ate that up and dug deep, hounding her daily. When the awful stories linking her and Paul started appearing, she’d had no one to help shield her from those vicious lies, no one to fight for her. Eventually, the Coast Guard was forced to transfer her, even after their investigation showed no wrongdoing. She spent the last few months of her service riding a desk in Washington, DC.
Marcus stopped pacing, drawing her out of her musings. He sighed and dashed any hope Emma had that he could be interested in someone like her with his next words. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Tell Donna I’ll be in touch.” Donna. That was the name of the long-legged actress he was always photographed with. Donna Mitchell. The beauty Emma could never compete with. And in one evening, she’d come full circle. Beginning it and ending it imagining the unattainable. Why would he want the tomboy when he could have the starlet?
Emma went to the front door and grabbed her pack, intending to make her escape before she embarrassed herself with tears. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him after he’d disconnected from the call. “Thanks for dinner, but I need to get home.”
He seemed taken aback that she wanted to leave so abruptly. “I’m sorry you had to hear that conversation. I hope that’s not the reason you’re leaving.”
“No,” she rushed to assure him.
“That was my publicist,” he explained. “She calls every couple of days wanting to publicize what I’m doing here with you.” She knew he meant the Nighthawks, but Emma’s heart still jumped a little when he made it sound like there was something between the two of them.Crappity crickets.She was an idiot.“She doesn’t get it,” he finished sadly.
“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, thank you for at least trying to keep us out of the press. I know how those gossip sites can twist things. We appreciate your discretion.”
“I’m not doing this for publicity. It may have started as research for a possible screenplay, but it has become so much more to me.”
She smiled at that. “Don’t give up the idea of a screenplay yet. Think about what I said.”
“I will. Are you sure you have to go?”