One Kiss More (7 page)

Had she really made out with Landon McCabe tonight while trying to climb him like a tree?

“You okay, Em?”

She turned to Jeremy and smiled. “Yeah, just tired.” Her fingertips brushed her lips, still warm and a little swollen from McCabe’s kisses. Damn, did that man ever know how to use his mouth. The memory heated her skin and caused her heart to race in her chest. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would have felt like to have that wet warmth on other, more sensitive parts of her body.

“Not to pry or anything, but what was up with that dude earlier?”

“What dude?” she asked, hoping he hadn’t noticed McCabe follow her up the stairs.

“You know who I’m talking about. The one who looked like an extra from
Scarface
.”

Of course he was talking about Cesar. It was unlikely anyone had seen McCabe follow her. Anyone but Cesar, that is. He watched her like a hawk and probably had a tally of every time she’d visited the bathroom. Which totally squicked her out. “Just a guy. Don’t worry about it, Jeremy.”

“Em, I don’t wanna sound like I’m telling you what to do, but if it has anything to do with your dad—”

“You don’t want to sound like it, but you’re totally about to tell me what to do,” Emma said, cutting him off. “I know you’re concerned and I’m glad you’ve got my back, but really, I’m okay.” The last thing Emma needed was to get Jeremy involved in this business with Cesar. She’d messed up enough people’s lives already. No need to add to the tally. “He’s a little . . .”

“Pushy? Rude? Rough?” Jeremy ventured.

“Intense,” Emma said. “But I know how to manage him.”

“You’re not seeing him, are you?”

Emma almost laughed at Jeremy’s appalled tone. “No,” she said with a sad chuckle. “I’m
not
seeing him.”

“Good. Because if you were, I’d have to have a talk with him about how you deserve to be treated. And then with you about your questionable taste in men.”

Though Emma and Jeremy had dated once or twice a few years ago, they’d both decided that they could never be anything more than friends. And that was totally okay. Emma didn’t have many close friends—people she truly trusted—in her life and that made Jeremy worth more to her than a simple hookup. Which was exactly why she couldn’t drag him into this business with Cesar.

“So, I’ve got some time off. Preseason doesn’t start for another three weeks and my press tour was pushed back until next Friday. You wanna bounce and hang out at my place in Malibu for a while?”

Emma loved the beach and Jeremy’s suggestion was exactly what she needed right now. Too bad she couldn’t take him up on his offer. “I can’t. With the investigation going on, it would look suspicious if I left. I need to play it cool for a while so the Marshals office will back off.”

“I guess it would look sorta bad. But damn, Em, I wish they’d lay off. It’s not like you know anything.”

“Yeah.” Emma let the conversation die, unwilling to lie to Jeremy outright. And if anyone wished the marshals would lay off, it was her, except . . . if they did, it would mean that McCabe would go back to wherever he came from. After what had happened between them tonight, Emma wasn’t sure that was what she wanted. Sure, she’d kissed him to shut him up and to keep him from asking too many questions she couldn’t answer. But she’d never expected him to respond so enthusiastically. In fact, she’d expected nothing more than a cool rebuff from the hotshot deputy. Instead, what he’d given her had left Emma breathless and craving more.
Damn you, McCabe
.

She was so wrapped up in reliving tonight’s escapades, she didn’t even notice when Jeremy pulled into the underground parking garage of her building. As if she were waking up from the best dream ever, her mind and body conspired together to keep her in a relaxed state. Sweet Lord, the way McCabe’s fingers had felt against the bare skin of her ass had been nothing short of bliss. And she shuddered as she recalled the hard length of his erection pressing up against her as she straddled his hip.

“Do you want me to walk you up?”

But then, McCabe had simply pulled away without any explanation. His once-fiery demeanor replaced with something cold and indecipherable. A heavy lump of disappointment settled in Emma’s stomach as she remembered his commanding words. How his handsome face had hardened and made her feel so ashamed for throwing herself at him the way she had.

“Oh, God.”

Her embarrassed groan was answered by Jeremy’s large hand covering her own. He squeezed gently and his deep brown eyes were wide with concern. “What is it, Em?”

Oh, nothing much at all. I acted like a sex-deprived slut and jumped a federal cop on the roof tonight. My mother would be so proud if she were alive to see it
. “Nothing, I’m just tired. I don’t need you to walk me up, I’ll be fine.”

He smiled. “You sure?”

Emma nodded. No need to admit that she didn’t think she’d ever be fine again.

“How ’bout we grab lunch next week? McCormick & Schmick’s?”

That ought to be fun with Cesar
and
the Marshals tracking her every move. “Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

“I’m holding you to it,” Jeremy said with a wink. “Night, Em.”

He held out his fist and she bumped his knuckles with her own. “Night.”

Emma focused on the soft purr of the engine as Jeremy pulled out of the garage. She headed for the elevators, each step carefully placed. She counted them off in her mind—
one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four
—in an effort to center her thoughts and draw her focus from her current worries. And they were many. Too damned many for a woman her age, yet she was in too deep to do anything about it now.

Emma was the classic overthinker. For as long as she could remember, she obsessed, overanalyzed, turned things over again and again in her mind. And that obsessive brain of hers had caused her countless sleepless nights and not a few anxiety attacks when she was young. It took concentrated focus to redirect her thoughts. That’s why she counted her steps. If she didn’t preoccupy her brain with something new to obsess over, she’d drive herself crazy. When she was eighteen, and stressed to the point of an ulcer over her dad’s investigation, she’d used Deputy U.S. Marshal Landon McCabe as a distraction.

She’d only seen him a few times in the initial phase of her dad’s investigation, but that was all it had taken for her obsession with him to root firmly in her mind. Tall, with a lean swimmer’s build, and as blond and fair as she was dark. His smile had been snarky but infectious and when he was upset or concentrating really hard, the most adorable crease had cut into his brow. Then she’d realized that he was gunning for her dad. He’d quickly become the man she loved to hate, the gorgeous villain of her nightmares. And even though her dad insisted that she harbor no ill will toward the good men doing their jobs to uphold the law, she couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of animosity. Still, his good looks haunted her waking thoughts. More than once she’d used McCabe as a distraction from the crippling anxiety that weighed on her every time she thought of how alone she’d be if her father was convicted and sent to prison. She’d even tried to count each of his eyelashes once during a particularly hostile interview with her dad. His lashes were long and so dark. In the long run, it was impossible to count them and she found herself feeling jealous that God had given him such pretty lashes. What did men need great lashes for, anyway?

And now she was counting her own footsteps to the elevator to distract her from him. Funny how life worked out sometimes. If by funny, she meant crushing and humiliating. Emma’s phone vibrated in her back pocket and her heart leapt up into her throat. A quick glance at the caller ID confirmed her fears and she said a silent prayer before answering. “Hello?”

“
Mija
?”

Tears sprang to Emma’s eyes at the sound of her father’s voice. “Dad!”
Oh, thank God.
“Dad, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Try not to worry. I need you to listen very closely to what I’m about to say, Emmalina. If you do what I tell you, everything will be fine. I promise.”

He’d promised her the same thing six years ago. And nothing had been fine since that day. But at this point, what choice did she have?

“Okay, Dad. I’m listening.”

Chapter Six

Landon didn’t feel any better this morning than he had when he went to bed last night. Which might’ve had something to do with the fact that he’d slept a grand total of fifty-two minutes the entire night. His head was still swimming with Emma’s intoxicating scent, floral with a sweet edge that made him hungry and horny at the same time. How fucked up was that?

“Here’s your harness. Sorry, but those are the rules, man.”

He looked at the guy behind the counter as if he’d only now noticed he was standing inside the indoor climbing facility. Landon needed to clear his head and he knew of no better way to focus his energy than a climb. And since he didn’t have time to drive out to the mountains, the indoor walls would have to do. Despite the fact that he wanted a free climb without the restraint of the harness, it looked as if he’d be forced to follow the rules if he wanted to use the facility. Rules shouldn’t have been a big deal for him. He was a deputy fucking U.S. marshal for shit’s sake. Rules were his
business
. So why, this morning, did he want to punch this guy in the face because of a rule?

Landon gave a derisive snort.
Why?
He could answer that question in two words: Emma Ruiz.

“Uh, sorry,” he said when the guy behind the counter gave him a dirty look. “Yeah, the harness is fine. No worries.”

“You’re going to need a belayer, too,” counter guy remarked. “Josh is out on the floor this morning. If he’s not helping someone else, you can snag him. Tall guy with shaggy brown hair. Over there.”

Landon looked to where the guy pointed and gave a nod. “I see him. Thanks.”

Really, the harness probably wasn’t a bad idea. As distracted as he was, he was as likely to fall as he was to make it to the top of the wall. A broken back would pretty much wrap up his month in a nice little bow. He took his credit card from the now disgruntled counter manager and headed into the main gym with the harness in one hand, his gym bag in the other. He found an empty public locker and grabbed his chalk bag before he stuffed his duffel inside and headed for the wall.

Landon slipped on the harness and secured the carabiner from his harness to the belay attached to a rope dangling from the ceiling. Josh, who definitely looked like he could use a haircut, caught sight of Landon and headed over. “’Sup, man,” he greeted Landon as he grabbed hold of the length of rope. “Ready to get your climb on?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Get his climb on? Josh must be new to the job. He had the eager-camp-counselor act down pat. Which made Landon wonder if Josh had experience with belaying anyone over the age of twelve. Shit, a free climb might have been safer than trusting a newb to manage the tension in his rope while he climbed. It was too late to worry about it now, he supposed. At any rate, maybe he’d be too worried about Josh’s belaying skills to think about last night. He’d take whatever distractions he could get at this point.

Landon massaged the chalk bag in one hand and then the other, stuffing it under the harness strap before grabbing a handhold and hoisting himself up on the wall. The first twenty feet were an easy climb, like going up a ladder. But from there, the wall became steeper and angular, presenting Landon with a more challenging ascent. By the time he hit forty feet, the endorphins should have kicked in.

Usually, a good climb gave him a nice, mellow buzz. His breath quickened and his heart rate increased, but the excitement factor was absent. Landon continued to climb as the angle of the ceiling bent to almost forty-five degrees. His teeth clenched to the point that he could hear the enamel grind as he reached up, his fingers barely making purchase on the handhold and still, he felt nothing. Until his mind wandered to the memory of silky soft lips, supple breasts, and the sound of Emma’s low moan when he passed his thumb over the stiff peak of her—

Whoof !
Landon’s chest made contact with the wall, knocking the air from his lungs. His palms warmed from the friction of the rope as it slipped through his hands during his rapid descent, and his face pulsed where it met the sharp edge of the polyresin hold he’d lost his footing on. Below him, Josh’s amused snicker echoed through the gym, joining in with that of the snarky counter guy. Landon cursed under his breath. Nothing like having an audience when you biffed your face against the wall. Especially when one of those witnesses already thought you were a jackass and the other treated you like a kid at day camp. Awesome.

He never should have let things go as far as they had last night. Hell, he’d known what Emma was up to the minute she’d leaned toward him. He could have pushed her away, taken a step back. Told her to stop. But he hadn’t. No, like the fool he was, he’d taken her in his arms and played right into her plans, effectively distracting him from questioning her about the man at the club. And like the dumb son of a bitch he was, he would do it all over again given the chance.

Landon had been a rookie straight out of the academy when he’d been assigned to the Ruiz case. Despite the guy’s wealth and clout, the case had been cut and dry, with more than enough evidence to support an arrest. A cake assignment to ease him into the job with a senior deputy supervising him. When it came to work, to procedure and protocol, Landon did everything by the book. But the second he’d taken in the sight of Javier Ruiz’s daughter, his brain had gone on a vacation south and suddenly procedure became the last thing on his mind.

Now, he was right back where he’d started. What did he expect? That in six years’ time she’d become less attractive? If anything, she’d grown more beautiful and lived enough to know how to work her feminine wiles. Landon groaned as he reached for a difficult handhold and pulled himself higher on the wall. She’d been making the rounds with celebrities and dating fucking sports superstars for the past six years. And it wasn’t like she’d ever been the innocent, wide-eyed girl, even at eighteen. He thought about the pictures pasted on the Internet and the soccer star’s arms around her as he shielded her from photographers. His stomach burned and his jaw clenched as Landon propelled himself to another hold farther up the wall. The thought of another man touching Emma made him want to break something. Namely, the bastard’s face.