A Hot Winter (New Adult Romance) (The Attraction Series Book 2) (15 page)

With an enervated chuckle, Matt rolled her over, so her head wasn’t dangling off the bed, and curled her in his arms.  “Good, because I’m keeping you with me.”

They lay quietly together for about ten minutes, before Emma remarked, “I can’t believe we did all that with the lights on.”

Matt burst out a laugh.  “What’s that mean?”

“Nothing, just…it didn’t even occur to me to turn my bedroom light off when we got here.” 

“Good.  Who wants the lights off?  You’re hot,” he said, stroking his hand down her side.  Emma smiled into his chest, but said nothing.  Then he blew out a breath.  “Well, that was about four hundred hours of pent up frustration right there.”

She lifted her head to look at him.  “Frustration?”

“Yes.  Wanting you everyday.  Going to bed hard every night, thinking about you.”

“Matt…”  She hardly knew what to say to that. It was probably ironic after everything they’d just done, but a blush came to her cheeks.  “I hope, um, it lived up to your expectations.”

With a rough laugh, he said, “Jesus, do you really have to ask?  That was fucking amazing.”

Blissfully, she smiled.  Then said: “You’ll still keep this between us, right?”

“Of course.”

Sitting up more, Emma suppressed a smile as she said, “What I really can’t believe is that I slept with an employee.”

Matt lifted his eyebrows.  “Employee, huh?  Really?” 

She struggled to keep from laughing.  “Yes.  I mean, technically you haven’t cashed my check yet, so
technically
I haven’t paid you your wages.  I’m pretty sure that means you still work for me.”

Laughing, Matt rolled on top of her.  “
Wages
now?  This keeps getting better.”  Now Emma was giggling and Matt’s expression turned a little more serious when he said, “You’re something else, you know that?”

She blinked up at him, touched by the words.  Something pulled at her heart, but she tried her best to ignore it, and to stay in the moment, which was lighthearted.  She could be lighthearted and casual, couldn’t she? 

Yes--she had no choice.

“Hey, how about tomorrow night I bring a pizza over?  We can watch a movie or something,” Matt suggested casually.

“Oh,” Emma said awkwardly, “you’re coming over tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.  Unless you have other plans.”

After a momentary hesitation, Emma shook her head then folded back into his arms.  “No. I want you to come.”  It suddenly scared her how much she wanted that.  A sense of panic stirred in her chest; she quickly tried to deflect it.  “You know, I hope my neighbor didn’t hear us.  I just realized I got sort of loud.  But is it
my
fault that you’re really good in bed?”

Grinning, Matt said, “So just explain that to her.”

“No, you cocky jerk, I will not explain that,” Emma stated flatly, and he laughed.

“Nah, no worries about your neighbor,” he said, snuggling her against him.  “As long as we didn’t set off any car alarms, we’re good.”

~

Matt was in Emma’s shower the next morning, running his fingers through her wet hair, and stroking down her back, as she sighed and leaned into him.  He almost couldn’t believe they were standing here together--naked and wet and relaxed--after the little speech she gave him when he arrived yesterday.  Damn, that had been such a buzz kill.  Here, after a frustrating-as-hell day dealing with work-site issues and truck-repair problems, he’d been looking forward to seeing Emma’s face and just spending time with her.  It had been the one thought that kept him from cursing his bad luck all day.  Then, as soon as he walks in the door, she starts nervously going on about how she never wants to kiss him again.

At first, he hadn’t known how to react--so he didn’t react much at all.  Even though, inwardly, he’d felt annoyed, stubborn, and extremely disappointed.  Yet, somehow he couldn’t bring himself to go without at least trying to change her mind.

And now here they were.  Showering together after some steamy morning sex.  Effing best way to start his day. Now she tipped her face up for a kiss, and then reached behind him to turn off the shower. 

As Matt wrapped a towel around his waist, Emma reached up and touched his bicep.  “Hey Matt…what is this tattoo anyway?” she asked, tracing the row of stars with her finger.

“Oh,” he said, giving it a glance out of habit.  Obviously he already knew what tattoo she was referring to, and what it meant.  “That’s for my sister,” he told her.

Emma’s eyes widened.  “Your sister?  I thought you didn’t have any sisters or brothers.  Didn’t I ask you that once?”

Matt hesitated for a second; he hated to mess up their fun morning with depressing shit.  But Emma was blinking up at him, clearly waiting for some kind of answer.  So he said, “My sister, Michelle, died when we were kids.  When you asked about sisters or brothers…”  He shrugged.  “I didn’t want to get into the whole thing.  I said no because, technically, no, I don’t have a sister anymore.  I guess.”

“Oh, Matt…” Emma began, her voice soft and caring.  “What happened?  How old was she?”

“She was ten.  She got meningitis somehow.  It came on really fast and…”  He offered a shrug.  He didn’t mean to be stoic, but he’d come to terms with the whole thing a long time ago.  “I was seven at the time.  Anyway…”  He lifted up his arm, looking at the tattoo.  “She had this wooden bed frame that my dad had custom-made for her.  It had a big row of stars cut out across the bottom and along the headboard.  I always remembered it.  She loved stars; my mom had put those glow-in-the-dark star stickers all over her ceiling.  You know what I’m talking about?”  With a solemn expression, Emma nodded.  “I got the tattoo done years ago; the stars were the first thing I thought of.”

“Oh, my God,” Emma murmured after a moment, “your poor parents.”  Tears cast a glaze over her eyes, making them look brighter and greener.

“Yeah--I really never thought they’d get past it.  So when I was a kid, I tried to, you know, be good, do things right.  Not cause them any trouble--because they seemed so sad all the time.”

“They’re so lucky to have a son like you,” Emma said as her eyes became glassier, and tears started spilling down her cheeks.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” Matt urged, and brought his hands to her face.  Wiping away her tears with his thumbs, he said, “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I can’t help it,” Emma said with a sniffle, “I’m a mom.”  Very naturally, it seemed, Emma folded into Matt’s arms and hugged him.  “You’re a really sweet guy.  Do you know that?”  He didn’t answer; he just held her.  “I really appreciate everything you’ve done around here,” Emma added, pulling back to look up at him.  “I want you to know that.”

Lightening the moment, Matt raised his brows and teased, “Really?  You appreciate it?  Yesterday you were pissed about it.  You were angry I didn’t charge you more.”

With a sweet, almost sad smile, Emma said, “That’s not why I was angry.” 

Then she stood on tiptoe and coiled her arms around his neck.  He savored the feel of her body against his, and pressed her even closer.  “And I’m not as sweet as you think,” Matt murmured suggestively…as his hands slid lower.

~

About an hour later, Matt was on his way out the door when Emma stopped him.  “Wait--I think we should talk real quick.”

“Oh, boy…” he muttered cautiously.

“What?”

“Nothing, go ahead.”  Emma was narrowing her eyes at him, so he explained, “It’s not like ‘we should talk’ is known for being a great opener.”

She gave a reluctant smile.  “Okay, valid point.  But this is nothing bad.  I just think we should make sure that we’re on the same page about everything.”

“What page is that?”

Emma started to get that nervous look again; it usually came before she was about to unload some confusing female-speak on him.  “I guess…basically, I wanted to establish some… parameters. 

“Like what?” Matt said, crossing to the staircase and taking a seat on the third step. 

“Um…hmm…I guess ‘parameters’ was the wrong word,” Emma admitted.

With a half-grin, he tilted his head, still a little tired.  “What are you trying to say, beautiful?”

“Just that…I don’t want to get any expectations--I mean--for
us
to have any expectations.  Given the situation.”  She cleared her throat.  “I want us to keep having fun, but we need to be clear upfront that this is a short-term, casual thing.  That it’s not trying to be more than that,” she explained.  “I’m sure you feel the same.”

At first Matt just looked at her.  Then he asked, “Well, why do we have to call it anything?  Why can’t we just go on like we are?  And, you know, whatever happens, happens.”

Emma just blinked at him, like that was a truly nonsensical approach.  “That’s…too uncertain,” she finally said.  “Since I’m moving and we’re going to have very separate lives, obviously this
fling
will be over, so--”

Jesus, did she have to call it a “fling” like that? Matt thought, mildly annoyed.  Calmly, he asked, “Why do you assume it has to be over?  Why can’t we just wait and see?”

A pause settled over them.

Emma swallowed hard, struggling to stay focused.  Resolved.  Not to get her hopes up, but to be practical--realistic.  And she struggled not to blurt an answer like:
Because I don’t want to sit waiting for your calls, hoping you’ll want to visit.  I don’t want to think of you as my boyfriend, only to have you find a younger girl who doesn’t live three hundred miles away and who isn’t shoving an insta-family down your throat.  Because I don’t want to fall for you.

“Please Matt, let’s keep this simple,” Emma said.  “I like you and I want to spend time with you until I leave.”

When he looked at her with those dark eyes, she wanted to take it all back and throw her arms around him.  But obviously that would be ridiculous.  What she was saying was the truth--this
would
end after she moved.  They hadn’t known each other that long, and Matt was a young, unencumbered guy, who would have his own life to lead, miles away from Emma.  She had a busy, full life with her sons and her job at the magazine.  If there ever was a relationship that was designed to be short-term, certainly this was it.  

Finally, Matt gave a nod and came to his feet.  “All right, Emma.  Casual fling.  Got it,” he agreed, then leaned down to kiss her good-bye before he left. 
Good
, she thought as she shut the door behind him,
now we’re definitely on the same page
. 

So why didn’t it make her happier?

That evening Matt brought over a pizza as promised.  He strung lights around Emma’s Christmas tree and she hung ornaments and candy canes--before they both sat down to watch a movie.  They barely got ten minutes into it before they were kissing heatedly on the couch. 

Breathing hard, Emma clung to Matt as he ran his hands under her sweater, deftly unhooking her bra while climbing on top of her.  He groaned deeply as he settled down on her and pressed his arousal into the vee of her thighs.  “W-wait,” Emma said, struggling to find her voice.  “Let’s go upstairs.  I don’t want to--I need to respect my sons’ space,” she explained a bit awkwardly, hoping Matt would understand. 

“Sure, okay,” he said without question, rolling off her and coming to his feet.  “Let’s go.”  He held out his hand and she jumped up from the couch to take it.

Upstairs, he’d made love to her with the same vigor as the night before, leaving her limbs weak and her body humming.  But she was only able to doze briefly, before her mind booted up and she found herself blinking toward the ceiling.

Time passed as Matt slept and Emma lay next to him, gazing at the window.  The light snow that was falling when Matt had arrived had transformed into a frosty kind of rain, which sounded like a shower of tacks against the glass.  For some reason, she was still wide awake and she knew in her bones that sleep was nowhere near her reach.  Maybe she’d go downstairs and watch the movie that they’d skipped earlier.  It wasn’t as though Matt had his heart set on watching it; he’d let her pick the film and then distracted her from it right away.  She smiled, thinking about how passionate Matt was.  How intense but caring he could be.  How their chemistry in bed was insanely hot. 

Now she tried to be stealthy as she climbed out of bed, but still she heard Matt’s deep voice say, “Where are you going?”

“I can’t sleep.  I was going to watch TV downstairs.”

“Why don’t you watch it here?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to bother you.”

“You won’t.”  Emma, who’d been reaching for her thin cotton robe, hesitated.  It seemed so rude to do that to him.

“Stay here if you want,” Matt urged her, his thick voice partly muffled by the pillow.  “Next to me.”

“Are you sure?” Emma said doubtfully, though she was inching her way back toward the bed. 

Now Matt lifted his head and blinked at her.  “Of course,” he replied, then peeled back the covers.  “C’mere.” 

When Emma climbed back in bed, Matt immediately snaked his arm around her.  “I’ll keep the volume on low,” she promised, grabbing the remote from her nightstand, and snuggling warmly against him. 

Nuzzling her cheek, he said, “No worries.  The TV doesn’t bother me.”

With Matt holding her--and easily drifting back to sleep--Emma felt close to him.  Dangerously close.  Shouldn’t a casual fling feel more…casual?  Less couple-y?  Maybe not.  Honestly, what did she know?  Her only real experience came from a heavy relationship.

Okay, she just had to be careful.  Not to let the lines get blurred.  To compartmentalize.  Other people did it, and she could, too. 

The following morning, a voicemail from her boss helped put that plan into effect. 

After her shower, she found Matt sitting at her kitchen table with his jaw still unshaven and his hair still rumpled, drinking coffee and digging out her crossword puzzle for her.  “You made coffee,” she said, crossing over to get a cup.

“It’s not as good as yours, I’m just warning you now,” he said.

As he folded back the paper to her puzzle, Emma perched herself in the chair across from his.  “Listen, I was thinking…” she began, feeling inexplicably tense.

“Yeah?” Matt said, opening to the sports page.

“Maybe tonight we should both do our own thing,” Emma suggested, her tone casual, even though she averted her eyes, before taking a sip of coffee.

Matt looked up from the paper.  “Oh…sure, okay,” he said, his tone too neutral to decipher.  “You have something going on tonight?”

“I’m behind on my editorial notes,” she told him, adding truthfully, “Derek, my boss, left me a message about ‘Rapidly Mutating Swamp Aliens.’”  Matt squinted at that, confused, and she explained, “Oh, that’s the title of a story we’re publishing next month.  Well, the official title is: ‘They’re Baaack: Rapidly Mutating Swamp Aliens.’” 

Chuckling, Matt said, “Clever.”

“I know, the title is ridiculous, but it’s actually a good story.  Anyway…I need to get some work done tonight.  Plus I want to wrap some Christmas presents for Jake and Ben.  And I’m sure you want to hang out with your friends or just have some time to yourself,” she added, figuring that was a fair assumption.

Even though he gave her a sort of strange look, Matt nodded.  “That’s fine,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his hair and focusing back on the sports page.  “Do your thing.”

~

That night, Tragan, Bardo, and Matt were playing a videogame at Matt’s apartment, while Pellican was getting ready to go out.

“So what time is Janine getting here?” Bardo asked, shooting a brief glance away from the television screen. 

“Any minute.  We’re just doing dinner, because her sister’s in town.  Hey, does anyone have any cologne I can borrow?  I left mine at my place,” Pellican said.

“Sorry, I don’t typically carry cologne around with me,” Tragan said dryly.

“And that’s why you’d make a terrible traveling cologne salesman,” Bardo joked. 

Impatiently, Pellican rolled his eyes.  “Winter?”

“I don’t wear cologne,” Matt answered as he launched imaginary firepower that missed its target, and instead, set off a chain of explosions.  “Damn!”  Tossing his controller aside with defeat, he slumped in his chair.  Then he looked over at Pellican and motioned toward the bathroom.  “I have body spray.”

“Is it a masculine scent?”

“This is getting awkward,” Bardo said and Tragan laughed.

“Seriously, bro--I’m sure you smell fine,” Tragan commented, keeping his eyes on the screen.  “And no, I definitely don’t want to smell you.”

Just then there was a knock at the door.  “It’s her!” Pellican exclaimed, then tried to resume his composure.  “She’s here, no big deal.  Well, I’ll get it.” As he went to the door, Matt heard his phone chime.  His first hope was that it might be Emma, even though she’d wanted to do her own thing tonight. 

He rose from the couch as Tragan and Bardo continued playing, and Pellican let his new girl in.  “Hi!” he heard Janine say in the background as he picked his phone off his desk. 

Yes
. A text from Emma. 
“
Hi…how’s your night going?”

Cautiously, Matt typed back
:
“
Fine. Yours?
”
  Hell, he wasn’t about to tell her that he’d been thinking about her, that he missed her, that he’d rather be with her than playing videogames with his friends.  She wanted to keep it casual, and gushing all over her like that would probably scare her off.

Another chime. 

“My night’s ok.  What are you doing?”

Hmm.  Matt smiled as he realized that she was missing him, too.  But if that were the case, then she could say it.  Call him stubborn, but if Emma wanted him, she’d just have to be honest enough to admit it. So he typed back simply
:
“Just hanging out in my apt.”

When no immediate reply popped up, he slipped his phone into his pocket and went back to the living room, where Janine was holding up a book, saying, “On the T ride over, I was reading this fascinating biography of Lord Tennyson.  Did you know that  he could barely even see without his monocle?”  Nodding emphatically, she added, “It really explains a lot.”

“Um…” Tragan began.

“Cool,” Bardo said agreeably.

“Well, let’s get going,” Pellican said, giving her a smile as he led her to the door. 

“Nice seeing you guys again!” she called over her shoulder as they left.

Matt’s phone chimed.  When he read the message, he felt a surge of excitement.
 
“Want to come over?”

Smiling at the screen, he thought,
Hell, yeah
.  They’d dragged this on long enough.  So he typed back,
“
I’m on my wa
y
.”