So Far Away (California Dreamers #2) Page 6

  “Me too.”

  His eyes narrow like he doesn’t believe me. “Who are some of your favorite artists?”

  “Nora Jones. Madeleine Peyroux. Melody Gardot. Dianna Krall.”

  He nods. “Okay. I like where you’re headed. What about Billie Holiday and Nina Simone? Bessie Smith, Etta James, Shirley Horn?”

  “Edith Piaf?”

  He grins. “Parlez-vous français?”

  “Oui.”

  “J'ai pris quelques cours de français au Lycée.”

  “J'ai étudié le français à l'université.”

  He closes the small distance between us. I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

  “I’m a physicist, not a chemist, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say there’s definitely some chemistry between us.”

  “Some?” I mutter.

  “A lot,” he corrects.

  “What now?” My eyes search his.

  My heart starts to beat wildly as he moves his mouth towards mine.

  When our lips touch it’s like a little jolt of lightening. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It takes my breath away completely.

  My lips are still buzzing when he opens his eyes and looks at me.

  For a few moments I feel like I’m lost in a fog. Then I remember I just kissed Emerson.

  My boss’s son.

  I did exactly what I was instructed not to do.

  Shitballs!

  I paddle as far away from Emerson as possible.

  “Was the kiss that bad?” he asks.

  “No, it was amazing. That’s the problem.”

  “I don’t understand.” He sounds as confused as I feel right now.

  I paddle back over to him. “Your dad is my boss,” I remind him. “No hanky-panky. Remember?”

  He frowns. “It was just a kiss.”

  “You’re okay with just one kiss?” I raise an eyebrow. “Someone waves a candy bar in your face and you’re okay with taking one tiny bite and throwing the rest away because you’re not allowed to eat it? Even if it’s the best chocolate you’ve ever had in your life?”

  “I’m the best chocolate you’ve ever had?” he teases.

  I shake my head. “I wasn’t even thinking about you being black. I was just trying to make a point about the kiss being fantastic and I just happen to adore chocolate.”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “And you called me vanilla first,” I point out.

  “Not because you’re white,” he clarifies. “Because I thought you were a little generic.”

  I glare at him. “And do you still think I’m generic?”

  He grabs me and pulls me close. “Not at all.”

  He kisses me again. This time his tongue roams my mouth and every part of my body is awakened.

  I’ve only had sex once since I’ve been back in California, and it was a huge mistake. I hooked up with a guy I knew from high school at a small reunion at a mutual friend’s house. After that I was so focused on getting a job that I sort of went into sexual hibernation.

  Now my body seems to want to make up for all of the lost time.

  As much as my body might want to be with Emerson I can’t have my sexual reawakening with him.

  I place my hand on his chest and push him away. “I can’t do this. I need this job. I really can’t afford to get fired.”

  “I’m sorry.” He bites his bottom lip. He actually looks pained.

  I don’t feel so great about the situation either.

  “It took me a really long time to get this job, and I just started. I don’t want to lose it. I’ll never be able to work again.”

  He furrows his brow. “You have two Master’s degrees. From Yale I might add. You should be able to find another job.”

  “Not anywhere near LA. My degrees are in Literature and Humanities. That really doesn’t qualify me to do very much. I could teach at a college, but only as an adjunct because I don’t have a doctorate. That doesn’t pay enough for me to support myself. The only two things I’ve been able to do are work as a nanny or as a personal assistant. I’ve already been fired from my first and only nanny job. And it’s not like many people were willing to hire me after that.”

  “Why do you have to put it on your resume?” he asks.

  “I guess you don’t watch the news.”

  He shakes his head. “I’ve been working on my dissertation for the last year and a half. I’m in the lab seven days a week nearly twenty-four hours a day. I don’t have much time for anything else.” He tilts his head and looks into my eyes. “What does the news have to do with you anyway?”

  “When you have a chance do an online search for Naughty Nanny. I worked for Dannabelle.”

  The moniker doesn’t seem to make an impression on him.

  “You don’t watch movies?” I ask.

  “I watch movies. Mostly science fiction. I couldn’t tell you who any of the actors are though.”

  “Daniel Robinson and Annabelle Miller. They were a Hollywood power couple. He’s one of the post popular actors in movies right now and she’s America’s sweetheart. She accused me of having an affair with her husband, which I did not. I think he might be gay, which is beside the point anyway. She used me as a scapegoat so she’d have an excuse to divorce her husband and not look like the bad girl. I got to play that role. The scandal made national headlines and my photo with the title Naughty Nanny was plastered everywhere for months. When I’m in LA the paparazzi still follow me. The point is that every time I went for a job interview and the person doing the interview figured out why they recognized me I was quickly dismissed. No one wants to hire the whore who broke up Dannabelle. I was very lucky that your dad gave me a chance and I don’t want to blow it.”

  He nods. “I understand. I’m not going to lie and say that I like it, but I definitely get it.”

  “Good.”

  We both stare at each other for a long moment. Unfortunately my attraction to Emerson is only getting stronger. If I stay anywhere near him I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist the so-called forbidden fruit any longer.

  “I’d better go,” I tell him. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

  As if on cue all of the lights inside of the pool turn on illuminating the water around us. It’s absolutely stunning.

  “Did you do that?” I ask, even though it seems unlikely. We’re both in the middle of the pool.

  “They come on automatically,” he replies. “Good timing though.”

  “I’ve still got to go,” I tell him.

  “I know.”

  I make no motion to get out of the pool. I’m not sure what’s stopping me.

  Nothing can happen between us, but it’s like part of me still wants it to. Getting fired because of Nannygate wasn’t my fault, but if I fooled around with Emerson and lost my job because of it I would be completely responsible.

  “I’m leaving now.” Am I trying to convince myself?

  “I can see that.” He grins.

  He paddles over to me. “One last, last kiss.”

  When he puts his mouth on mine I’m completely undone. Then he puts his arms around me and pulls me close. I melt into him.

  There isn’t much material between us. Just two swimsuits. I can feel him getting hard as he presses his body against mine.

  And I’m so turned on it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to go any further. It would be so easy for us to slip out of our suits and for him to slip inside of me.

  But I know it’s wrong, and we can’t.

  We shouldn’t even be doing what we’re doing, I remind myself.

  As I place my hands on his shoulders and push away from him he releases his hold on me and allows me to paddle away from him.

  “That was the best last kiss I’ve ever had,” I tell him as I swim over to the edge of the pool and climb out.

  Four

  I woke up early so that I could get to work as quickly as possible. I needed something to distract me from thoughts of E
merson.

  I’ve never been one of those girls who was boy crazy. I’ve never crushed on a guy. I’ve dated and had fun, but I’ve never obsessed about anyone before.

  Of course I’ve never felt so overwhelmingly attracted to anyone either.

  That is until I met Emerson.

  Now I feel like some kind of drug addict craving another hit. I can’t stop thinking about his lips on mine. I want to feel his hands on my skin again and the weight of his body pressed against mine.

  Staying as far away from him as possible is my only option. Because I know if I see him again, if I allow him to touch me, I’ll give into temptation.

  Right now I have myself literally locked in the office. And here is where I will stay until the file cabinets are delivered. And then I’ll remain here until it’s time for me to go back to the guest house.

  Emerson’s Spring break couldn’t be more than a week. I can keep myself holed up here for that long, can’t I?

  It’ll be good for me. Once I have the office situated I’ll be able to put a large dent in the correspondence and that will make Jackson happy.

  It’s a much better idea than totally pissing him off by screwing his son.

  And why did I have to put that thought back in my head?

  Images of Emerson inside of me keep creeping back into my imagination like cockroaches. Everyone knows those ugly creatures are unstoppable.

  I’m here to work, I remind myself. The week will go by quickly and then he’ll be gone.

  Unless he comes back for summer break.

  We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now I’ve just got to get back to organizing the office.

  I line up all of the files I want to place in the file cabinets in the order that I want them placed. And I finish just in time for the delivery from the office supply store.

  When my cellphone buzzes I hurry to the front door to meet the delivery person.

  Two young guys with OfficeMart shirts give me quick nods when I answer the door. They are attractive, blond, and tanned. They’re probably surfers doing deliveries to pay for their sport.

  They’re definitely the type of guys who would have caught my eye in the past.

  But now I find myself comparing them to Emerson.

  Why?

  We had our last kiss. That was the end of it. I was hoping that would get him out of my system.

  Unfortunately all it did was rev my system into overdrive.

  “Delivery for Maddie Malone,” the taller of the two guys says.

  “That’s me.”

  “Where do you want us to take the stuff?” he asks.

  “Let me show you to the office.”

  The two guys each grab a small filing cabinet. They follow me down the hallway to the office.

  They drop the filing cabinets exactly where I instruct then make several more trips back and forth to get the rest of the stuff.

  “That’s everything,” the taller guy announces after the last of the delivery is placed in the office.

  “Thank you.”

  “Nice place,” he says as I walk him and his partner back to the front door.

  It’s not actually my place so I don’t say anything.

  “You must have a rich daddy,” the shorter guy comments.

  I shake my head. “I just work here. I’m a personal assistant.”

  He looks me up and down. “If you’re ever down at the boardwalk you should look for us. That’s where we hang out.”

  “Maybe I will,” I tell them just to be nice. I definitely don’t need a surfer to complicate my life right now.

  “I’m Patrick, and this is my brother, Danny.”

  Danny gives me a quick nod.

  “Do you surf?” Patrick asks.

  I shake my head. “Not really my thing.”

  “But you dig surfers.” He gives me a wide grin. “I can tell.”

  “I’d better get back to work.” I hope that will give them a clue to exit.

  “We’ll be at The Pub right on Main Beach on Friday night. Come by and have a drink with us.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell them.

  Patrick gives me one last long look and his blue eyes sparkle a bit. “I really hope to see you there.”

  Finally he gives Danny what looks like a brotherly whack on the arm and the two of them exit.

  I exhale a huge breath and when I turn around Emerson is standing right in front of me.

  “Are you seriously going to go out with that guy?” He snaps. His eyes are on fire.

  “No,” I squeak.

  Tension seems to release from his body as his balled fists relax. “Oh.”

  We stare at each other for a long moment.

  Standing here in the foyer with him is a huge mistake. My attraction toward him is only getting stronger every time we interact. I need to get as far away from him as possible, but he’s blocking my path.

  “Why did you tell him you’d think about it? When he asked you out.” His brow is furrowed.

  “Technically he didn’t ask me out. He asked me to hang out. There’s a difference. And I didn’t want to get into a lot of drama by telling them no. It’s just easier that way.”

  Realization seems to cross over his face. “Do all girls do that? Say they’ll think about it, when they really mean no.”

  “I don’t know. If they are smart they do.”

  “I’ve had a lot of girls tell me that over the years. I always thought they were actually considering going out with me.”

  “Probably not.”

  When he steps closer my entire body gets shivery. “That guy really pissed me off.”

  “Why?” I frown.

  “Because I want to be the only guy you’re with.”

  “Except that I’m not actually with you,” I remind him.

  “Minor detail.”

  I shake my head. “We’re not together and we’re not going to be together. I wouldn’t call that a minor detail.”

  “Yes it is.” He gets so close to me that I can feel his breath on my lips.

  “We already had our last kiss.” My voice sounds weak.

  “I know.”

  His eyes are penetrating. My heart beats rapidly in response.

  Every part of my body craves his touch.

  “We’re out in the open,” I remind him. Standing in the foyer where anyone—like his dad —could see us.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway. Luckily we’re going in the opposite direction to his dad’s bedroom.

  I haven’t seen this wing of the house yet. I assume this is where the guest bedrooms are located and where Emerson stays.

  He pulls me into a room at the end of the hallway. It’s a large bedroom easily the size of a master. It’s expertly decorated, like something out of a home décor magazine.

  With the exception of a laptop on a small table, and a blue backpack on the chair next to it, there don’t seem to be any other personal items to speak of anywhere in sight.

  It seems obvious that he only uses the room while he’s here visiting his dad as it’s not personalized in any way.

  No hanky-panky. Jackson’s directive echoes in my head.

  I need to escape before it’s too late, but once again Emerson is blocking my path. He’s really good at that.

  That’s not the only thing he’s good at and that’s the problem. He’s an incredible kisser, and that usually means equally incredible in bed.

  At least that’s been my experience with the somewhat limited sample of guys I’ve had sex with.

  As I look at Emerson my head screams: Are you crazy? Don’t do this. While my body screams right back: Fuck you, sensible one! Let’s fuck him.

  It’s a battle I’m sure my body is going to win.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” Emerson admits as he closes the distance between us.

  “Join the club,” I tell him. “I feel like I’m going a little crazy. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

/>   “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He takes my hand, leads me over to the edge of his bed, and pulls me down to sit with him. “I want to be upfront with you about something.”

  His expression has become much more serious.

  I gulp. “You have a girlfriend?”

  He looks stunned, like I just slapped him. “Why would you say that?”

  I shrug. “It wouldn’t be the first time a guy has told me that right before we’re getting ready to have sex.”

  “Wow. No. And I’m not sure I want to know any more about the guys you’ve been with. I’m definitely not like that. I was going to say that I only have one condom with me. It’s one I carry around in my wallet. Honestly it may even be too old to use. Obviously I wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen, so I’m not really prepared. I just thought that was something important to get out in the open before things went too far.”

  The edges of my mouth upturn slightly. Is that his way of telling me he’s not a player? He’s certainly attractive enough to get girls into his bed. He got me here in record time.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m easy,” I tell him. “I normally don’t just jump into bed with guys I’ve just met. Actually I’ve never done that. I can still count on one hand the number of guys I’ve been with.”

  Of course he’ll be number six: a whole new hand. I keep that tidbit to myself however. Guys may tell you they want to know your number, but they never truly do. No matter what number you tell them it will be too high anyway. No guy actually wants to think about the number of men who have been inside of you before him even if he says he does.

  He grabs his wallet from his nightstand and opens it up. He removes the condom package and places it on the bed between us.

  I grab the wallet from him before he has a chance to stop me.

  Not that he does try to stop me. He actually seems to be enjoying the fact that I’m curious about him and the contents of his billfold.

  I remove his driver’s license and study the photo. He hasn’t changed much since the photo was taken. His hair is shorter, but that’s about it.

  I notice his birthday is in August. “You’re a Leo.”

  “If you believe in that kind of stuff.”

  “Leo’s are supposed to be extremely loyal, but also very possessive.”