No Denying You(14)

“My Emmie!” Emma’s father was a tall, muscular man with a head of thick dark hair just beginning to gray at the tips. It was obvious from his tanned skin that he spent a lot of time outdoors. Brant remembered her telling him once that her dad was a builder and his athletic frame supported that. Her father kept one arm around Emma while stepping forward to extend his other hand to him. “I’m Ken Davis, father to this handful.”

Brant tried to keep a blank expression as he thought that his interpretation of “handful” and Emma’s father’s where she was concerned were probably very different. “Nice to meet you, Ken, I’m Brant Stone, Emma’s . . . boyfriend.” God, that seemed weird to say at his age. Of course, what else was there? Lover? Yeah, that would go over well with her daddy. “This is a beautiful place you have here. Did you build this house?”

Nodding his head, Ken said, “I sure did. Of course, Kat changed her mind about every damn day, but I finally made her happy. You know, if your woman isn’t happy, your life is hell, right?”

He might not actually have a woman, but Brant knew a true statement when he heard it. Emma’s mom handed him a cold beer and he took it gratefully. Wait. Should he pretend that he didn’t drink to impress them? Looking at the group of book club women still gathered behind him making no attempt to hide the fact that they were looking at his ass, he decided, screw it. If they wanted to judge him, then at least he would be slightly more relaxed about the experience with a few beers.

When her mother asked, “So, Brant, honey, are you from South Carolina?” Emma tensed beside him.

“Yes, Kat, I am.” He had already made the mistake of calling her ma’am earlier and he now knew to avoid that.

“What do your parents do?” It had been so long that he didn’t even flinch when he said, “They passed away when I was young.” Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to explain, so he added, “They died in a plane crash near the Florida Keys, actually.”

Emma gave him a look of sympathy even though he knew that she was already aware of the story. Kat stepped forward and gave him a hug. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m sure they would be proud of how well you turned out.” Emma found herself nodding in agreement. There was really no debating that. Brant was one big walking accomplishment.

At that moment, her brother came striding out, gaining everyone’s attention toward him. The baby of the family always took center stage. She took a little whiff as he drew closer, thinking he had probably been practicing his “botany” before he came in. She gave him a hug when he finally managed to escape from their mother.

“Hey, Emmie-Lou.”

“Hey, Brat,” she fired back fondly. “How’s school?”

“Not bad; the class load is kicking my ass, though.”

Emma quickly introduced Brant, who asked, “How many classes are you taking this semester?”

Wrinkling his nose, Boston said, “Three. I usually try to stick with two. You know . . . to have more time for other things.”

Brant, oblivious to Boston’s surfer-dude attitude, said, “Oh, you work and go to school part-time?”

Boston looked confused. “No, man, I go full-time. It’s pretty rough, too.”

Emma was grateful when their father interrupted the conversation to say that Robyn had to work late and would have to drop by the next day. By that time, Brant would have already gathered that her brother was a slacker, but why make it worse? Boston walked off to sneak some food off the table, leaving her alone with Brant for the first time since coming downstairs.

“Your brother is quite a character.”

Emma smiled. “Yeah, he’s the go-to guy for all leisure activities.” She took a minute to study him. “You look pretty leisurely yourself. I didn’t think you owned anything besides suits.”

His eyes drifted over her white shorts and turquoise off-the-shoulder top. “You look pretty laid-back yourself. I like the top. A lot.” Emma felt her face flush at his unexpectedly flirtatious words.

“I . . . um . . . thanks.” Oh no, she could feel her nipples start to harden at his continued attention. She could tell by the slight widening of his eyes that her body’s betrayal was obvious to him. Suddenly it was as if their usual insults had turned into come-ons. Frankly, the whole thing had her off center. She didn’t know how to act in a world where her words may now be considered foreplay, not only by Brant but herself as well.

She jerked when Brant settled an arm around her shoulders and nuzzled her neck. Was that his tongue? “I guess we need to look the part, right?” he whispered in her ear.

“Hmmm?” she croaked out, barely able to think with his body this close to hers.

“You know . . . boyfriend, girlfriend, lovers. That’s what we are playing at, right?”

“Oh, yes, right, of course.”

Her mother beamed her approval as Brant led Emma toward a chair. “You go ahead and sit if you want. I’m going to grab a Coke,” she said. In truth, she just needed a few minutes away from his amorous attention. She stopped to talk to her dad and then her brother before deciding she couldn’t stay away from Brant any longer without it being obvious. Drink in hand, she turned back in his direction and then abruptly stopped. Brant was still seated at the table, but her vacant seat and all of the others next to him had been filled by her mother’s book club friends. In fact, Brant was now the center of their attention. Far from looking awkward, he appeared completely at ease as he laughed and joked with the crowd of admiring females.

Her father walked to her side and tracked her line of vision. “Thank Christ, at least I’m off the hook tonight. If there’s a male anywhere in the vicinity, they’re all over him.”

“Daddy!”

“Baby girl, I’m just calling a spade a spade. Your mother loves that group and I like ’em just fine as long as they meet at someone else’s house. Most of them are divorced and it doesn’t take long to figure out why. Their men probably packed up and ran like hell. They don’t bother your brother too much. They probably figure it would go right over his head.”

Emma put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggle. God, she loved her daddy.

“It looks like I’ll be able to enjoy my beer and my burger tonight, though, since they have their hooks firmly in your new man.”

“Yeah, I see that and it’s only just begun. He accepted their invitation to the book club meeting tonight to discuss Fifty Shades of Grey.”

Emma laughed as her father’s mouth dropped open. “You’re shitting me?”

“Nope. I don’t think he knows what it is, though.”

“I’d just think it was some painting book if not for your mother trying to read me every other chapter.” Emma decided to let him off the hook since he was starting to look uncomfortable. This probably wasn’t a book you wanted to discuss with your daughter. “I need to go get the food off the grill and you’d better go rescue Brant.” She had been planning to leave him to fend for himself, but she was supposed to be in love with him, and it might look strange if she sat at the other end of the table.

Luckily or unluckily, when she walked up behind him, the line of women automatically shifted down one seat and she slid into the empty chair next to his. He threw an enthusiastic arm around her, pulling her in closer to very tempting warmth. “Hey, baby, I missed you.” Everyone at the table gave an awww while she tried to tell herself that the pang she felt in her heart wasn’t real. Nothing about their rapport was real other than the fact that they worked together and, when this was over, it would be back to business as usual. Sure, they were both physically attracted to each other, but that changed nothing in the end. She was just too different from Brant for things to ever go any farther, wasn’t she? After all, the man sitting beside her now was an illusion. He was acting a part and she had to remember that. When they returned home, he would be the same uptight man that he normally was, and she would be back to calling him on it at every opportunity. She couldn’t be deceived by how good it felt to be a “we” and not just plain old Emma. Opposites may attract, but in this case, they may also strangle each other.





Chapter Eight


Brant had just finished eating his hamburger and Emma was now curled into his side. The mannerisms of being a couple seemed to be coming more naturally to him than he would have imagined. She had given him a couple of elbow nudges that kept him somewhat grounded in reality. Dinner with her family had been lively and fun. He didn’t have to fake his connection to her parents; it was genuine. He had carried on a long conversation with her father on everything from politics and the economy to college football. Her brother had invited him for a stroll on the beach to “burn one,” which he politely declined. Her mother and her friends were a constant source of off-color jokes and stories about their husbands, boyfriends and neighbors. As a group they were rather scary, but you had to laugh with them.

Once the food was cleared from the table, he watched in curiosity as one of the women, Doris, pulled a bag from her purse and shook out some jewelry. She passed what appeared to be a necklace to the other women. Emma held hers up and he could see what looked like a tiny tie, something that looked like a mask and . . . what the . . . handcuffs?