“No,” she said for what felt like the dozenth time. “Braden, please—“
Someone knocked at the front door, saving Emily from another pointless argument. With one last exasperated look at her ex, she headed to the front door, sure that a fleet of Spooky Squad tech guys were going to flood their way into her house.
But before she could reach the door, it opened, and in walked Jericho, his head newly shaved on the sides and his mohawk floppy and pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head. He liked to wear his mohawk, but he knew that Emily didn’t like running her fingers through all the wax that it required to stiffen it, so when he was coming over with the intent to have sex, his hair tended to be soft and loose.
As it was right now.
And the sight of it filled her with as much arousal as it did dread, because her stupid ex was here mucking up the works.
“Jericho,” Emily said, heading forward to his side. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Thought I’d drop by today and see how you were,” he said, pulling her against him as if about to kiss her. His mouth pressed against the side of her face, tickling her with a light kiss at her temple. “You busy? Am I bothering you?”
“You’re never a bother,” she said softly, not leaving his arms. Not yet. “I just don’t know that—“
“The EMF is higher in this room,” Braden said, walking back into the foyer and pointing the meter-reader-thingie toward her stairwell. “Maybe it’s something upstairs. I—” He paused and looked at Jericho and Emily, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. He blinked, a hint of a frown on his handsome features. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Braden Smith of Spooky Squad,” he said, recovering and sticking his hand out toward Jericho.
“This is my…friend Jericho,” Emily butted in quickly, stepping out of Jericho’s arms. “He comes over to help me with the house sometimes.”
“I’ll bet,” Braden said casually.
Damn it, why did Braden make her feel dirty about her friendship with Jericho? It was none of Braden’s business who she was sleeping with. He’d left her because he didn’t want to give up his stupid television show. He didn’t have any right to judge her life.
“I thought I’d check on that leaky faucet on the second floor,” Jericho said to Emily, ignoring Braden. “Maybe stick around for lunch if you’d have me.”
“Of course I would,” she said, trying to keep the blush off of her face. Normally lunch turned into sex, but she doubted that was going to happen with her ex hovering. She’d half expected Jericho to run off at the sight of Braden, but to her surprise, he was sticking around. As his hand went on her shoulder again and he gave her another squeeze, she wondered exactly what that meant.
Was he staking his claim on her in front of Braden? Or did he just not care if her ex was around to see them make out?
Either way, it was a little awkward for her. Okay, a lot.
~~ * * * ~~
Upstairs and alone with a dripping faucet, Jericho seethed. It shouldn’t have fucking bothered him to see Emily’s ex, but it did. After all, he and Emily weren’t officially dating, right? They were just screwing. She’d told Jericho repeatedly that she wasn’t looking for Husband Number Two, and that had suited him just fine.
Until today, because he’d looked at the smug face of that bastard and wondered if Emily didn’t want Number Two because she was still hung up on Number One.
And that was driving him fucking nuts.
It wasn’t because he’d come over to get laid. Sure, he had – he couldn’t stop thinking about Emily on a daily basis – but more than that, he’d come over because he genuinely liked Emily and liked being in her presence. He’d seen another old Victorian in the area earlier today and wanted to tell Emily all about how rusted the pipes had been and have a good laugh with her over the fact that one pipe had been so corroded it had pretty much crumbled in his hand. She’d appreciate his home improvement observations. She loved hearing his stories, and he loved telling her about his job. He was heading back over there after lunch, but hell, he’d just wanted to share his day with his girl.
He was coming to think of Emily as his girl, anyhow, even if she didn’t want to be.
But seeing her ex back here fucked everything up and it made Jericho territorial. He wanted to fling the bastard away from Emily and tell him to get the fuck out. Him and his stupid little ghost meter.
Luckily, the faucet was a quick fix – he got out his wrench, tightened everything, and the drip stopped. Emily normally dropped in while he was working to keep him company or to chat about her day. Maybe the old ex-husband was monopolizing her time.