Something to Talk About Page 17

  Three hours of sleep just wasn’t going to keep her on her toes to fend off questions just like these.

  “Oh, no,” Dixie sympathized, instantly forgetting her accusations. “Is she okay? Did you call the vet?”

  Em fought a yawn—one that made her mouth water. “I think it was the change in her food. The supermarket didn’t have her usual brand, so I bought an in-between bag, and I think it disagreed with her touchy tummy.”

  Dixie nodded and made her poor baby face. “Poor Dora. Okay, now that’s covered, tell me about the sex.”

  Em sighed, emphasis on exaggerating her impatience. “I didn’t have sex.”

  “Who didn’t have sex?” Marybell asked, strolling into Em’s office, her eyes covered from lid to eyebrow in her signature smoky eyeshadow.

  Dixie pointed to Em. “She didn’t.”

  Marybell perched on the end of the desk, the spikes from the chain hanging from her leather pants scraping on the edge of the wood. “You didn’t have sex? Why are we surprised by that, Dixie?”

  Hold on. Was that the label prude being thrown around again? Em tapped her desk with her fingernail. “Excuse me. I’ve had lots and lots of sex.”

  “I knew it,” Dixie taunted, to the tune of Marybell’s soft chuckle.

  “Stop misconstruing. I’m not having sex now. I meant I’ve had sex just like everyone else. With my clothes off.”

  “In the dark, with the curtains closed up tighter ’n Fort Knox. You tell ’em, honey,” LaDawn teased, leaning a shoulder on the door frame. They often had talks like this just as her and Dixie’s day was ending, and LaDawn’s and Marybell’s was just beginning.

  Em loved them. She loved hearing about their crazy phone calls, or even what they had for dinner the night before. She felt included, loved, involved. But tonight? When all she wanted to do was skip back to her house, luxuriate in some bath bubbles and decide what she’d wear for her and Jax’s meeting tonight, she didn’t feel like touching base.

  Em’s cheeks sucked inward. “I have so had sex with the lights on.” She had, and it had been just fine. Not like last night fine, but fine enough.

  Marybell twisted one of her rings on her thumb. “Eyes open or closed? Because it doesn’t count if you had the lights on but your eyes were closed, little lady.”

  Oh. Well, who wanted to see all of their flabby parts jiggling, and who’d made up these rules?

  You did. You did last night, Em. You wanted to see all of it, and when you did, you liked it. Your eyes were wide-open.

  LaDawn’s eyes found Em’s over Marybell’s spiked head. She searched them for a moment and must have sensed Em’s panic. She smiled in her direction before addressing Dixie. “Ladies? Why are we talkin’ about sex when we have other, more important matters at hand? Like who, in all of heaven and hell, keeps takin’ my meatball Hot Pockets from the lunchroom? I can’t keep livin’ like this, Dixie Davis. How can you expect me to truly perform my duties as a proper companionator when I don’t have the right nourishment?”

  “Me, I think that was me,” a voice said from behind LaDawn’s tall frame.

  Marybell jumped, the chains on her belt loop cracking against the desk.

  Em put a hand on Marybell’s hand to soothe her. She understood. She’d spent all morning jumping when she heard Jax’s voice every time she turned around today. A Hawthorne could do that to a woman, among the other wicked things he did to a woman. “Ladies, this is Taggart Hawthorne. He’s going to be doing some work around Call Girls. I’m trustin’ you to treat him nice.”

  Marybell slipped from the desk, head down, and nodded on her way out the door. “Nice to meet you. I have to go before my shift starts. Talk to you guys later.” She wiggled some fingers over her shoulder and ducked around LaDawn and Tag.

  Both Em and Dixie shared a confused glance before their attention was redirected to LaDawn—who was preparing to sharpen her claws—on an unsuspecting Tag.

  LaDawn spun around, her lips in a flirty pout, her eyes playful when she widened them at Tag. “So it’s you who has a hankerin’ for my midnight snacks?”

  Tag nodded his head, the dark wisps of his hair poking out from under his knit cap rustling on his down jacket. “My apologies. I thought the boss stocked the fridge. I didn’t realize it was your personal stash.”

  LaDawn held her hand out and winked, letting her false eyelashes flutter outrageously. “I shoulda labeled it, but just so you know, I’ll share my stash with you whenever you want.”

  Tag took her hand and gave it a shake, the tips of his ears turning red. “I appreciate it, ma’am,” he mumbled low, and reminiscent of Jax.

  “Do you like chocolate? Come with me and I’ll show you my secret Snickers hiding place.” LaDawn hooked her arm through his and directed poor Tag away from Em’s office.

  Dixie was up in a shot from the chair. “I’d better go save him before we lose another Hawthorne to the wiles of a Call Girls woman.”

  Em’s ears pricked—getting all hot, and her stomach plunged. “Lose another Hawthorne?”

  Dixie nodded. “Well, yes. We already lost Jax to you.”

  Em’s lips went flat. “I told you—”

  “You’re not having sex.” She flapped a hand on her way out. “I heard all about it. I didn’t believe it, but I heard it. And you are, too!”

  “I am not!”

  “Are, too! Are, too! Are, too!” she sang down the hallway, her husky laugh a deliberate taunt.

  Disgusted with how thinly she’d veiled her lies, Em reached for her purse and noted her mother had called. She’d ignore it, but it could have to do with the boys. She pressed her mother’s number and put her on speaker. “Mama? Are the boys all right?”

  “Well, it’s about time, young lady.”

  Em’s chest tightened. It didn’t matter if her mother was calling her to remind her to pick up a gallon of milk, she still dreaded talking to her. “What’s wrong, Mama?”

  “Where were you last night? I called your house phone and you weren’t there.”

  That’s because I was having sex with Jax. Her face flooded red. Oh, dear Heaven. She could never confide that to her mother. “I think I fell asleep and didn’t hear it. I’m sorry, Mama.”

  “What kind of mother doesn’t keep the phone right by her ear when her children are away?”

  The bad kind. The dirty kind. She swallowed hard. “Did something happen I need to know about?”

  Clora gave a grunt—one full of disapproval. “You need to know you should pay better attention when your children are in the care of someone else.”

  “Are you sayin’ I should be worried when they’re with you, Mama?” Whoa. Em looked around her office. Where had that kind of rebellion come from? She rarely defied her mother. She rarely defied anyone. What was happening to her?

  But it diffused Clora’s scorn. “No. I’m sayin’ you should be available at all times,” she blustered.

  Em almost forgot about her mother when she saw her phone blinking. “I’ll make sure I am, Mama. I have to go now. Talk soon.” She hung up to the tune of her mother’s mumbling. She could even ruin winning the lottery, and lately, it had become a heavy weight she just couldn’t shake.

  So instead, she read Jax’s text, and her insides responded in puddly-gooey kind.

  Thanks to you and your irresistible charms, my back is killing me, Jax texted with a smiley face at the end of the sentence.

  Was it possible to hear his melty-warm voice in a text? That slow chuckle that made her limbs get all buttery? My neck is, too.

  Wanna work out our kinks together?

  A brief image of his eyebrows wiggling made her giggle to herself. We’ll just end up with more if we use that air mattress again.

  As if a dilapidated air mattress was going to stop her from meeting Jax
. Not even a pack of wild Magnolias could keep her from reliving last night.

  I bought a deluxe one today. Just for you.

  She smiled a smile reserved for the smitten. Oh, your armor, it’s so shiny, she teased.

  So you wanna come over to Forest Hawthorne and I’ll show you my armor?

  Only if you promise you’ll let me try it on.

  Date, he texted then followed quickly with, I mean, deal.

  Em’s smile turned to a frown. Yes. A deal. They’d struck a deal. Not a date.

  As she swept her things into her purse, she reminded herself that this was indeed a deal.

  One that was made with the idea that someday it would be broken.

  * * *

  Jax dropped his phone into his coat pocket and turned the key in the ignition. The glimpse he caught of himself in the rearview mirror made him sit up straighter and wipe his expression clean.

  You were goofy smiling.

  Nope. He shook his head like Jake was in the car with him. Like they were driving off to the gym together, or going to grab a beer and some pizza. Like they used to.

  Yeah, you were. Because Em makes you smile, Jake’s voice said. It’s good to smile.

  Jake had said that about Reece, too. He’d said a lot of things about Reece that Jax found himself recalling lately.

  He put his truck in Reverse and pulled out of Call Girls. He didn’t want to think about Jake and the guilt that still pounded out a steady beat in his chest, or Reece and her smiles or anything that had to do with his life with them. It was over, and he was doing his time because of it in the way of some major regrets.

  There were new things in his life now. Things he wanted to do. With Maizy.

  With Em, too, Jake’s voice whispered.

  Jax gripped the steering wheel tighter, making a left at the huge oak tree in front of Maizy’s new school.

  Last night with Em was something he didn’t want to define or slap a label on. It was sex. When you started to label what kind of sex it was, was when your ass was in hot water.

  Nope. It wasn’t just sex, friend.

  He nodded while he watched the stream of kids file out of the elementary school, looking for Maizy’s bright red hair and purple bow.

  Sure. Maybe it was a little more than sex. It was I-like-you-a-lot sex. Better?

  That was true. Em wasn’t someone you forgot overnight like you were supposed to forget a friend with benefits. You definitely shouldn’t spend all damn day thinking about her unless you were just thinking about the amazing sex.

  But he’d been thinking about more than just the sex. He’d been wondering what her reasons were for wanting to keep things strictly sex. She didn’t act as though her divorce had been especially ugly—or even that her marriage had.

  In fact, Em seemed at peace with her choice. So what made her so determined to keep her freedom, as she’d called it? What was the big deal about the color of your towels or where you hung a picture?

  Those things are just symbolic, Jax. They represent her independence.

  Towels and the color of them equal a woman’s freedom?

  You’re missing the point.

  Jax nodded again. Obviously, he was missing something, and it didn’t matter anyway. He was going to keep right on missing anything towel/picture related. He was only going to think about the sex. Which had been mind-blowing.

  All day long he’d carried the picture of Em, sprawled out beneath him, silky limbs wrapped around his, her cloud of dark hair spread out behind her on the pillow, the sweet taste of her pussy on his lips. The way she dragged her fingers through his hair when he’d sunk into her for the first time. That hot nightie she’d had on under her trench coat. That—

  A knock on his car window made his head snap back into place.

  A pretty blonde grinned and waved, gesturing for him to open the window. Jax flicked the button. “Remember me?”

  No. He should remember a cute blonde. Remembering cute blondes was mandatory in the Man Book, but all he could think about was a sultry brunette. “Sorry. I’m terrible with names.”

  Her features fell for a second, but she recovered nicely. “Louella. Louella Palmer. You’re Jax Hawthorne, right? We met briefly when you were here to look at your aunt’s house this past summer.”

  He didn’t remember that, but he knew the name. She was the one who’d given up Em’s ex at the Founders’ Day picnic. A swell of anger raged in his chest when he remembered how he’d first met Em—crying and humiliated, so raw and fragile. All because of Louella Palmer.

  Why was he angry? It was a shitty thing to do. He acknowledged all things shitty. They didn’t make him want to send a hit man after the person who’d done the shitty thing.

  Because she hurt your woman. Guys get protective about their women.

  She’s damn well not my woman, Jake. And who are you to preach to me about protective and guys, right? Go the fuck away.

  The pretty blonde with no heart put her hand inside the window. Covered in a tan glove, she offered it to him and smiled again, but she leaned in too close, didn’t smell like pears and worked too hard. Or something like that. “Then this is the perfect time to get reacquainted, don’t you think? My niece DeeDee and your daughter, Maizy, are friends in class. I thought it might be nice if we get them together for a playdate sometime.”

  Maizy’s head, bouncing in the line of children pouring out of the school, took his attention away from Louella and her playdate. He didn’t particularly care for the idea of Maizy having a playdate with anyone related to Louella, anyway.

  Maizy was chatting excitedly to another little boy while she hauled the sparkly backpack that was almost the size of her over her shoulder.

  Jax’s heart swelled with pride every time he saw her. Every time he was able to think, “That’s my kid.”

  He yanked the lever on the door. “Excuse me, Louella, but that’s Maizy, and she’s all caught up talking instead of paying attention. Kids, you know?” He didn’t bother to stick around for her response.

  Not when, in the swarm of parents and children gathering at the mouth of the school, there was another redhead. One just like his. But she wasn’t six and she wasn’t his.

  Jax saw all kinds of colors flash in front of his eyes before he took off running.

  Thirteen

  Em grabbed Gareth’s hand and squatted on her haunches when he asked, “Why are you here, Mama? Grams is coming to pick us up from school today. Grampa Amos said we can shoot cans with his BB gun if we eat all our supper.”

  She snuggled him closer and rubbed her nose against his cold one. “You can still go with Grandpa Amos. I just needed some Gareth hugs before I go home. That’s all. You okay with that, little man?”

  Gareth’s willingness to still indulge her with a snuggle warmed her, and she was going to take as many snuggles as she possibly could before he took them away like Clifton Junior. She pulled him into a tight hug and inhaled the scent of Play-Doh and grape jelly before he squirmed his way out of her arms.

  She tweaked his chin and rose to leave when she caught that brilliant shock of red hair swathed in a big, purple bow. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Maizy Hawthorne,” she said with a smile. Maizy tugged her maternal instincts in a totally different way than the boys did.

  Maybe it was her sweet plea on the phone that night. Maybe it was the impish grin she used to try to hide her curiosity while her eyes devoured Gareth and Em together. Maybe it was just that she was a little girl and looked like the kind of little girl who loved all things having to do with being a girl, just like Em. But something about her drew on Em’s heart, pushed it around in her chest and made it stand up and take notice.

  Maizy hung back for a minute in the shadow of the maple tree—tentative and shy.

  But Em gave he
r a warm smile of encouragement and crooked her finger at her. “I like your bow. It’s the perfect color for you.”

  Maizy took a step closer, her light-up sneakers flashing in the coming dusk, her eyes, uninhibited by emotions adults are eventually taught to hide, were full of pleasure. “I like your gloves. They have fur on them. That’s my favorite. Well, glitter’s really my favorite, but I like fur almost as much.” She reached a chubby hand out to touch the fluff at Em’s wrist.

  Em pulled it off and offered it to her. “Want to try it on?”

  Maizy nodded, dropping her backpack on the ground by Gareth’s feet. Em helped her put it on, and they both laughed when Maizy held it up, the fingers flopping.

  A commotion off to their left had Em’s instincts pulling Gareth and Maizy close, her eyes scanning the mass of children for Clifton Junior.

  “Maizy!”

  Jax?

  “Maizy! Where are you?”

  Em heard the panic in Jax’s voice—it was the panic of a parent who thought they’d lost their child. She threw her hand in the air and waved it. “We’re over here!”

  Jax’s bulk appeared in the throng of parents and children, almost lifting people off their feet to get to Maizy. His eyes zeroed in on her, and she was all he saw. Strong arms swooped down and scooped her up, hugging her tight. “I couldn’t find you,” he said, almost like an accusation, the words ragged and full of fear.

  Maizy patted him on the cheek and gave him a toothless grin. “I was right here all the time, Daddy. With Miss Em and Gareth, waiting for you to come pick me up.”

  Then everything was different. The cloudy haze in Jax’s eyes cleared, and his shoulders relaxed under his jacket. “I couldn’t see you. When I can’t see where you are, I get scared.”