A Hot Winter (New Adult Romance) (The Attraction Series Book 2) (13 page)

Wonderfully well-meaning
was how Emma liked to describe Dina Slate.  Not out loud, but in Emma’s own mind--whenever the two were engaged in an annoying conversation, like this one.  Emma supposed that it made her feel better to think of Connor’s mom that way--rather than as an overbearing type who was forthright to a fault.  She also didn’t want to be ungrateful; Dina had helped her out a lot with watching Jake when he was a baby and Emma was still in college, working to finish her degree. 

Besides that, Connor had thought the world of his mother--as Emma prayed her sons would always feel about her--so she wanted to think the best of Dina, too.  But she sure made it difficult sometimes.  Like when she tried to make Emma feel guilty, telling her that she didn’t bring the boys to visit enough, and asking the usual accusing questions.  Was Emma telling them enough about their dad?  Was Emma making it a priority for Jake and Ben to “know their father”?  Whenever Dina wielded those three words, it was done melodramatically.  And somehow it always sounded like an indictment. 

On her last visit to Massachusetts, Dina had criticized Emma for not having enough photographs of Connor around the house.  There was one framed on Emma’s nightstand and one hanging on the hallway wall, but when Emma had first moved into the house, she’d been too distraught and depressed to torture herself with pictures of her husband everywhere.  It felt like twisting a knife in her heart to see his smiling face all around. 

Even now, she couldn’t bear to have no reminder of Connor in the house.  He was such a major part of her life.  And when the boys thought about their father, she wanted them to have a clear image in their mind.  But that said, Emma wasn’t going to make her home into a shrine for him after all this time--as Dina seemed to expect.

Why then would Emma agree to move in with Connor’s parents until she found a house in New York?  Well, actually…she was pondering that very question herself at the moment, as Dina took a simple, friendly phone call and turned it into something passive-aggressive.

It started off well enough.  Emma called to talk to Jake and Ben, and then Dina got back on the phone, assuring her, “The boys are having a wonderful time.  It’s such fun with them here!”

“That’s great, Dina,” Emma said brightly, trying not to dwell on how miserable
she
was without Jake and Ben.  “They love spending time with you guys.”

“It’s amazing how Jake is just the identical image of his father.”

“I know,” Emma agreed.  They’d had this exact conversation countless times over the last four years. 

“While they’ve been here, I’ve been telling them all about their father, of course.  It seems they don’t know as much as they should.” 

Emma rolled her eyes to the ceiling, but kept her voice even.  “Dina, they know a lot,” she assured her.

“Well, they didn’t know that he played soccer all through high school.  I told Jake that he should think about joining a local soccer team.  Obviously you didn’t pursue that where you are now, but we can do it once the boys move here.”

“Jake never expressed an interest in soccer.”

“Sometimes you have to lead a child,” Dina pointed out gently.  It was her condescending “helpful” tone--which worked a lot better when Emma was a sixteen-year-old girl meeting her boyfriend’s mother, than it did now.  “It’s never too early,” Dina went on.  “Connor was always an athletic sort of boy.  You should be looking for similar traits in Jake and Ben.  What better way to foster their true talents than to look for a resemblance between them and Connor?”

Emma clenched her fist, but said nothing. 

“And of course, you want them to
know their father
as much as possible,” Dina added gratuitously.

“Anyway, I’m glad the visit’s going well,” Emma said, hoping that hadn’t come off as too abrupt.  “Um, what are they doing now?  Do they have time to say goodbye real quick?”

“They’re playing outside, building a snowman.  Should I get them?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to stop them from playing.  I’ll just call later to say goodnight.”

When Emma hung up, she slumped down on her bed, disappointed that she hadn’t gotten to hear her sons’ little voices again.  Though, it would only be a handful of days until they were home.  She felt like a piece of her soul was missing without them here.

After another quiet moment, she pushed off her bed and went back to packing.

~

A few hours later, Emma stepped out of the shower, almost feeling relaxed. 

Quickly she toweled off and ran her fingers through her wet hair.  Standing at the sink, she was about to reach for her moisturizer when something possessed her to pick up a washcloth and swipe it across the large, steamed-up mirror in front of her.  Thoughtfully, she looked at herself.  Her eyes scanned the reflection of her naked body, assessing and inevitably finding fault with it.  It was still a decent figure, but nowhere near what it had been before she had kids.  Would a man still find her body sexy? Emma wondered.

In truth, only one man’s opinion on this subject mattered to her…

Not for the first--or even fiftieth--time today, she thought about Matt.  About what had happened last night, and what had
almost
happened.  He’d had her so aroused and aching for him, she’d simply lost control.  Lost her sense.  The alcohol certainly hadn’t helped her keep a grasp on reality, either.

What was she thinking starting up with him last night?  She was hardly in a position to have great sex with anyone right now.  Probably, if things
had
gone that far, the night would have been pretty lackluster for Matt.  What did Emma really know about pleasing a guy in bed?  She’d only been with one man in her whole life.  And the last time was nearly five years ago.  Talk about unpracticed! 

Now she literally shuddered with relief.  What if she
had
slept with Matt last night and he found her boring?  What if, after satisfying his curiosity, he never called or talked to her again?  So humiliating!  Probably Tragan would find out, and maybe Matt’s other friends would laugh about how he’d slept with Andy’s sister and it sucked.

Even if she could stay hidden in New York, living down her embarrassment, she would eventually have to come face-to-face with him at Andy’s wedding.  Jeez, of course--Matt was probably the Best Man.  And Emma would be the Maid of Honor.  “Total disaster,” she muttered out loud, imagining the scenario.  Matt would be there with a date--maybe even that hot girl from the Lamplighter--and Emma would be standing there in some unflattering bridesmaid dress, wearing a brittle smile and feeling like a rejected soccer mom.

That settled it, then.  If and when she decided to become sexually active again, it would be with someone who didn’t know anyone she knew.  

She didn’t want to go as far as to thank God for the interruption last night, because she really felt bad for Matt about his truck.  She could only imagine the frustrating day he’d been having, dealing with the aftermath of the vandalism.  Of course, she was guessing about Matt’s day since she hadn’t heard from him since he’d left her house last night. 

It was definitely just as well.  It was better if Matt pulled away, too.  It would make it that much easier to forget about last night.  On the way to her room to get dressed, Emma counted her blessings.  Her sons, her family, her health.  And the fact that nothing too incriminating had happened with Matt. 

And so help her, nothing would.

She had just slipped on a bra and panties when the doorbell rang.  Startled, she hastily tossed on an oversized tee shirt and grabbed her thin cotton robe off the armchair in her room.  Although the robe only came to her knees, she figured between that and the huge tee shirt, she was covered up enough for whoever was at the door. 

She tied the belt as she jogged down the stairs.  “Coming!”

“Emma, it’s Matt,” a deep, achingly familiar voice said through the door. 

Oh, God!  Her heart jumped into her throat.  What was he doing here now? 

Then she realized…
of course
.  Why on earth was she surprised?  Matt was probably here to pick up where they left off last night, to try to get her in the sack.  He was a man and she’d indicated that she wanted him.  It was ridiculously naive that she
hadn’t
expected this visit.

Suddenly her pulse sped to a sprint.  How was she going to face him after last night?  How could she put some much-needed distance between them without making things awkward? 

Inhaling a breath, Emma struggled to keep her expression neutral so nothing would give away the fact that her heart was galloping hard and her palms were beginning to sweat.  “Hi, Matt,” she said when she swung open the door.  “Please come in.”

“Hey,” he said as he stepped inside.

“How’s your truck?”

“Fixed, thankfully.”

“I’m surprised after what happened you’d want to come back to my dangerous neighborhood,” Emma joked.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said with an easy smile that made her panic.  He might lean down to kiss her hello if she didn’t say something soon. 

“Um, Matt, I’d like to clarify what happened last night.  I…it was a mistake.  I definitely consider you a friend, and I had a lot of fun, but…”  She grappled with the right choice of words, as she shut the door behind him.  “Last night I wasn’t thinking clearly--it was an over-emotional day, and I probably shouldn’t have had drinks on an empty stomach,” she added with a nervous laugh.  “Um, but anyway, I think we should both forget about what happened.  About, you know, kissing.” Okay, she was beyond horrible at this.  If only she’d had time to practice something.  “Don’t get me wrong,” she babbled on, still trying to find the perfect phrasing.  “You’re a great guy, but since we’ve already established that I’m not the casual fling type, it obviously wouldn’t be a good idea for us to try to go there.  At all.  Ever again.  So…thank you.”

Matt’s expression was blank, unreadable.  After a beat, he said, “You done?”

“Y-yes,” Emma stammered feeling heat fill her face.

He nodded, still giving no reaction to anything she’d said.  Casually, he reached into his pocket.  “I actually came here to collect the payment,” he told her, pulling out a slip of paper.  He unfolded it and handed it to her.  “Here’s the final bill.”

For a moment, Emma stood in the foyer, stunned, searching Matt’s face for some sign of disappointment.  Or confusion.  Or concern of any kind.  There was nothing.  He was totally nonplussed by her whole speech!  He gave no indication that he cared, or that he’d been hoping for a night of passion. He wasn’t even trying to change her mind.

What the
hell
?  So he really
was
just here to collect his payment?

Irrational anger welled up inside of her.  Didn’t he even care that nothing was going to happen?  Didn’t he still want her? Emma wondered, swallowing a sharp lump in her throat.

She suddenly felt utterly humiliated.  Also unfairly furious with him.  Most of all, she felt determined to save face.  “Right, the payment, thanks,” she said crisply taking the bill and hearing it snap out of his hand. 

“Something wrong?”

“Not at all, let’s get this taken care of,” she said simply, avoiding eye contact, as she scanned the bill without really seeing it at first.

“Great.  Well, we take cash or check, major credit cards except American Express.”

Emma’s mind reeled.  She couldn’t believe this! Matt was acting like she was just any other customer.  No lingering sexual tension, no residual awkwardness, no…?

“Wait--this bill isn’t right,” she said abruptly, as her gaze on the paper sharpened.  Confused, she looked up at him.  “This doesn’t cover everything you did.”

“What do you mean?” Matt said.  “It covers exactly what you hired me for: flooring, painting, and faucets.”

“Right, but…what about leveling the washing machine?” she asked.

“That took two minutes.”

“And fixing those loose tiles in the bathroom?”

“And that took five minutes,” he said dismissively.

Emma’s heart rate continued to escalate as she looked up at him, meeting his eyes and struggling to contain her emotions.  With a fevered sigh, she tapped the bill with the back of her hand, annoyed. “And where’s the Christmas tree stuff on here?  You told me that setting up the tree was a service offered by Winter Contracting.”

Matt had the nerve to roll his eyes at that.  “I said it was a service.  I never said I intended to charge for it.”

“And the model train station you put together?” she nearly yelped.

“Emma, I did that as a friend--Jesus!” he said impatiently.  “Next you’ll want me to charge for killing the goddamn spider!”

Testily, she put a hand on her hip and jutted her chin in the air.  “I just think your paperwork should reflect all of your labor.  Excuse me for caring.”

“Let me worry about my paperwork,” he said irritably.

“Even if it’s inaccurate?” she persisted.

“Emma,” Matt said sharply, “
that’s
the bill.”

“Ugh, you’re so stubborn!”  She turned away from him, and he barked a laugh. 

“
I’m
stubborn?  Okay.  You know what?”  He stalked toward her.  “Give me the bill.”

“Why?”

“C’mon, give it to me,” he said, making a gimme gesture with his hand.  “I’m gonna tear it up.  The whole job’s free.”

“What! 
No!
” Emma exclaimed, ducking out of Matt’s reach when he tried to snatch it away from her. 

“Hey, I’m just being as ridiculous as you are.”

“Fine, fine!” she said, exasperated and surrendering.  “I’ll get my checkbook--
okay?
”

“Yes,
thank
you,” Matt bit out as Emma crossed the living room to her office.

As she filled out the check, she realized that her fingers were trembling.  To say her nerves were frayed was an understatement.  God, why had she attacked him like that?  Was it because…she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.  She wanted him so badly.  But now she couldn’t do anything about it.  Not after she’d already made this big speech about how they weren’t going to hook up.

Inhaling a shaky breath, she went back to the foyer where Matt was waiting, still wearing his coat.  He probably couldn’t wait to leave.  Wordlessly, she handed him the check.  Folding it, he shook his head.  “Man, I’m so glad nothing happened between us last night,” he muttered as he stuck the check in his pocket.

Emma’s face crumpled.  “
What?
” she said, feeling insulted and hurt (even though she’d basically given him the longer version of the same sentiment).

With a short, humorless laugh, Matt said, “I don’t need this drama.”

“No one has ever accused me of being overdramatic.”

“If you give me this big of a hassle over a bill, God knows what you’d do to me in bed,” he said. 

“I wouldn’t do anything to you!  Wait--I didn’t mean it the way it sounded…” she fumbled.

“You’d probably tell me I’m doing it wrong.”

Rage boiled inside her, as she struggled for a comeback. “I’d only tell you that if you
were
.”

With a cocky laugh, Matt leaned his face toward hers and said, “I do it just fine.”

She pasted on a patronizing smile.  “Well good for you.”

“It could have been good for you, too,” he remarked plainly.  “But that ship has sailed.”

At first, Emma’s mouth dropped open.  Then she let out a shocked sort of laugh.  “Oh my God! I hope you’re not seriously trying to use reverse psychology to get me to sleep with you?”

Impatiently, Matt said, “Emma, aren’t you listening?  I don’t even
want
to sleep with you anymore.”

With her fists balling at her sides, she said, “Good.  Actually, that works out well, because I really don’t want to sleep with
you
.”

“Uh-huh, sure, okay,” Matt said briskly.  “Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up now.”  He turned toward the door, adding, “Now it won’t have to be unclear when I cross paths with you again someday.”

“Don’t worry, you probably won’t cross paths with me anyway,” she called after him.  “I’m leaving remember?”

At that, Matt paused, looked back at her.  His expression seemed more solemn.  “Right, I forgot, well…good bye, Emma.”

“Wait.”

With his hand on the doorknob, Matt turned. 

Impulsively, Emma reached for the stack of envelopes that was sitting on hutch by the stairs.  She flipped through it and pulled out the one with Matt’s name on it.  “Here,” she said, walking toward him.  At first he just eyed the envelope, confused.  “It’s a Christmas card,” Emma explained offhandedly.  “You might as well take it now.” 

Wordlessly, Matt shifted his gaze from the envelope to Emma’s face.  His dark eyes burned into her.  She swallowed feebly, still holding the card out for him.  “To hell with this,” he uttered gruffly, and slid a hand around her neck, pulled her to him and kissed her.