Emerson should never have made an actual plan to sleep with Caleb. Rookie mistake. The Universe had taken it as a dare and continually thrown a monkey wrench into the works at every opportunity. She’d had last-minute work dropped on her by a high-profile client she didn’t dare refuse. Caleb had been pulled in to cover two extra shifts in the last ten days. They’d managed to steal an hour here or there, but any time they rounded to third base, it was like a warning bell sounded and a new interruption showed up. She was going crazy with want and wondered what atrocity she’d committed in a past life that merited this level of punishment.
Tonight they had plans for dinner with Kyle before he left town to resume his tour with Mercy Lee Bradshaw. And after…after their social duties were discharged, she was finally taking Caleb to bed. With that in mind, she’d scrubbed, buffed, shaved, and moisturized, capping the whole thing off with a sexy set of lingerie beneath her dress. All the prep had been worth it for the look on his face when he came to pick her up. Big Bad Wolf personified.
Every inch of her skin felt electrified, every atom pulling toward him. Now that the touch barrier had been broken, it seemed they both craved that connection. He kept his palm on her thigh the whole drive, and she found herself eying side streets, wondering if they could find an out-of-the-way spot to christen his truck like a couple of horny teenagers. How in the hell was she supposed to focus on being polite and social and interesting when all she could think about was getting Caleb naked and having those calloused hands on every inch of her body?
At the restaurant, he checked his phone. “Looks like Kyle’s running a little late. You want to wait out here or go inside?”
“Better go inside. If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to give in to the urge to steam up the windows, public decency be damned.”
The low rumble of his chuckle shot straight to her core. “Fair enough. You look good enough to eat tonight.”
“God, I hope so.”
After a beat of silence, he threw back his head and laughed full out. “Oh, I really like this side of you.” He slid out of the truck and came around to open her door, leaning in to murmur in her ear as he helped her down. “And, for the record, I absolutely intend to have you for dessert.”
Emerson squeezed her thighs together. So this was how the night was going to go. Blatantly suggestive flirting to torture each other until they could finally, finally act on it. The anticipation might kill her.
Caleb offered his arm. “Milady.”
She took it, relishing the possessive feel of having her hands on him in public. Whatever qualms she’d had about being seen out with a younger guy had been burned away—likely by frustrated lust. So her head was high as they strode into the restaurant.
Caleb put his name on the waitlist with the hostess and turned to her. “You want to wait at the bar?”
Before she could answer, someone called out. “Emerson Aldridge, is that you?”
She turned to see Peggy Barclay, one of the moms she’d served with on the high school theater fundraiser committee. Peggy had a daughter Fiona’s age, though she hadn’t been part of Fi’s friend group.
“Why, I didn’t recognize you.” The sugary-sweet tone of this pronouncement was accompanied by a head-to-toe inventory of Emerson’s appearance that clearly found her to be inappropriate. The thigh-skimming dress and knee-high boots were sexier than anything she’d worn during her stint working bake sale booths or ticket sales, but it hardly merited the streetwalker judgment in the other woman’s eyes.
Determined to be polite, Emerson forced a smile. “Peggy, hi.”
Caleb’s arm slipped around her waist, and she instantly relaxed.
The other woman’s eyes widened slightly before she caught herself. “How is Fiona?”
“All settled in at school. What about Erin? She’s at University of Alabama, isn’t she?”
They chatted for a few minutes about the girls, with Peggy’s gaze slipping repeatedly to Caleb, clearly waiting for an introduction. Emerson was having way too much fun letting her stew and wonder who he was.
At last, the older woman couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you going to introduce me to your…friend?”
Caleb, who’d patiently waited through the exchange, offered his free hand. “Caleb Romero. Emerson’s boyfriend.”
They hadn’t had that discussion defining what they were, but she found she loved being publicly claimed by him.
Peggy seemed momentarily stunned. “Aren’t you Mr. January?”
Huh. The older woman hadn’t struck Emerson as the type to indulge in something like a sexy firefighter calendar.
“Sure am.” He winked and flashed her the double dimples.
There was another back-and-forth glance between them, as if Peggy couldn’t work out how the hell they made any sense. Emerson had mostly found her Zen about that particular topic. Were they unconventional as a couple? Sure. Did she give a damn about that anymore? Not even a little bit.
An older man with silver-shot brown hair joined Peggy. “The table’s nearly ready, hon.”
“Ed, you remember Emerson Aldridge. Fiona’s mother.”
“Of course. Good to see you again, Emerson.” There wasn’t a trace of his wife’s vitriol in the tone or affable expression.
“And this is Caleb Romero. Her boyfriend.” The faint emphasis on the last word seemed to highlight her incredulity.
Ed brightened as he offered his hand to Caleb. “You work with our son, Davis, I believe.”
Caleb’s smile shifted to a more natural one. “You’re Pork Chop’s parents? Nice to meet you. Your son is turning out to be a fine firefighter.”
He worked with one of Peggy’s children? That was…weird. Wasn’t it? She was trying to remember how many of them there were when Kyle stepped up to the group.
“Hey, y’all. Sorry I’m late.”
Emerson almost laughed at the Clark Kent glasses he wore, but it seemed to do the trick. No one around them gave him more than a passing glance, not even Peggy and Ed, who looked right at him as he offered a polite nod.
The hostess called Caleb’s name.
“Excuse us. That’s our table.” He steered Emerson away.
She was still chewing over the interaction by the time they were settled into a booth and had given their drink orders.
“Okay, what’s bugging you?” Caleb prodded.
“You work with her son?”
“Sure. He’s one of our probies. Came on last year after getting out of the academy. Good kid.”
“How old is he?”
Caleb blew out a breath. “Are we on this again?”
“Just…how old?”
“I don’t know. Twenty? Twenty-one, I think. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“No, but it does.” At the frustration building on his face, she lifted her hands for peace. “Roll with me for a minute. I’m having an epiphany. I spent the last four years working with that woman on committees at the high school. I never once thought about how old she is. I don’t think she ever realized how old I was either. Our kids were the same age and that was the end of it.”
Caleb and Kyle were staring at her like she was a little off her rocker. Maybe she was. How had this never occurred to her before?
“Peggy’s got two college-aged kids and her husband is in his mid-fifties, easy. I’ve got a college-aged kid and you, Mr. Young, Hot, and Studly.”
Kyle snickered.
“Yeah…” Caleb drew the word out, clearly not understanding the significance.
“I never told her Micah and I were in high school when Fiona was born. Why would I? It wasn’t their business, and I saw the judgement Micah got over the years as other parents did the math to figure out she was a teenage mother. When I inherited Fiona, nobody questioned it. They didn’t know Micah, didn’t know the history. I was just there, and they made assumptions about me. Most of the parents of kids her age are probably a good decade older than me.”
“Is that a surprise?” Kyle asked, as the waitress set their drinks on the table.
“Honestly, yes. I came to this whole parenting thing late in the game, straight into the deep end. There was so much stress and worry, it’s like I aged five years mentally for every year that passed since the accident. This is the first time in forever that I don’t feel old. I feel like…me again.” She laughed, feeling a weight slide off her shoulders. “I am not a cougar for dating you.”
Caleb’s brows drew together. “Haven’t I been saying that for a month?”
Emerson wrapped her arm around his and leaned close. “Yes. But the difference is, now I believe it.”
His dark eyes kindled as he covered her hand with his. “Then I’d say that’s something to celebrate.”
She lifted her wine. “I’ll drink to that.”

Caleb pulled his brother in for a back-thumping hug. “Call me when you get back in town.”
“Will do. Pray I don’t get arrested for diva-cide on this last leg of the tour.”
“Is Mercy Lee really that bad?” Emerson asked.
“You know those reality TV shows about pageant moms? Picture that kind of crazy, but younger and hotter, with the voice of a country angel.”
Her mouth quirked into an amused smile as she slid an arm around Caleb’s waist, snuggling into his side. “Have you and she ever…?”
“Oh, hell no. I don’t want any part of that shit.”
Caleb tugged her closer. “Kyle likes his women sane, willing to call him on his shit, and unimpressed with his fame. Or he did, once upon a time.”
The good humor his brother had sported all night faded. “You and I both know I fucked that up but good.”
“Apologies fix a lot of shit.” And as far as Caleb knew, he’d never even tried in all these years.
Kyle shook his head. “Not this.”
For a moment, regret flickered over his face, and Caleb wondered what would happen if somebody locked him and Abbey in a room. Would they finally talk about it? Or would they both continue to stubbornly cling to old hurts?
Tapping the hood, Kyle circled around to the driver’s side of his car. “I gotta go. You two crazy kids have fun. Emerson, great to see you again.”
Caleb shook his head as Kyle shut the door and started the engine. “Stubborn bastard.”
“What was all that about?”
“Him being a dumbass. But that’s not my story to tell.” Not interested in wasting any more time contemplating his brother’s failed love life, he looked down at her. “You ready to head home?”
Her pupils sprang wide, bottomless pools he wanted to drown in. “So ready.”
Caleb’s heart tripped into a gallop. Finally.
They both knew what was coming, and he couldn’t fucking wait. Tension and awareness crackled around them as they slid into the truck.
She blew out a breath, dropping her head back against the seat. “I’m about ready to explode from anticipation.” Rolling her head, she caught his gaze. “I want your hands on me, Caleb.”
More than willing to accommodate her, he laid a palm on the warm, satiny skin of her thigh, inching it higher. One of them could get started on this party already.
But Emerson stopped him with a low laugh. “Much as I would likely enjoy that, I want your focus on the road instead of my hair-trigger orgasm.”
He loved that hair-trigger orgasm, loved knowing he could bring her to the edge so quickly. But she had a valid point. Driving called for the big boy brain, and he was already down a significant amount of blood-flow. “Fair enough.” But he kept his hand on her as he navigated the streets of Hamilton, back to Pin Oak Drive.
As soon as he pulled into his garage, Caleb threw the truck into park, unfastened her seatbelt and dragged her into his lap so she straddled him. Her dress rode up, displaying a tantalizing hint of silk between her thighs. He nudged the hem higher to get a better look and saw the panel was already soaked through. Drawing one finger slowly up her center, he fixed his eyes on hers. “As soon as we make it inside, I’m peeling these right off you and making myself at home between these gorgeous legs. I want to taste what I do to you.”
She whimpered, her eyes dropping to half mast. “Caleb.”
“I want to feel you come all over my tongue and my fingers and my cock—preferably in that order—before we start all over again.”
“You have no idea how on board I am with all of that. But we have to go let Mooch out first.”
Right. The dog.
Caleb blew out a breath. “Let’s go then.”
Moving fast, they walked hand-in-hand across the lawn to her house, circling through the gate to the back door.
“Is he going to scratch at the door the whole time trying to get into the bedroom?”
Emerson reached for the knob. “I have no idea. I think if I hook him up with a rawhide he’ll—The door’s unlocked.”
Alarm cut through the simmering lust. He moved her away from the door. “Stay out here.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Emerson—”
“That’s my dog in there,” she insisted.
Understanding warred with the need to protect her. “Then stay behind me.”
When she nodded, he eased open the door and listened. No sound of canine feet on the wood floors. No indication of anyone else. They moved inside. In the dim light from the stove and the single lamp from the front entryway, it didn’t appear as if anything had been disturbed. The TV and electronics were still there, and nothing seemed out of place in the kitchen. He edged down the hall, toward the stairs, aware of Emerson at his back.
Something moved on the second floor and he tensed, bracing for a fight. He’d keep her safe, whatever it took.
Mooch trotted down the stairs, tags jingling, butt wagging. He made a beeline for Emerson, who crouched down to rub his head.
Caleb blew out a breath, relieved the dog was okay. “He probably wouldn’t be so chill if there was an actual intruder. Maybe you left the door unlocked?”
“You watched me lock it.”
Yeah, he’d totally thought he had, but in truth, he’d been more focused on imagining peeling her out of that dress, so he couldn’t say with certainty.
Recognizing she wouldn’t be easy until he’d checked the whole house, he curled his hands around her shoulders. “Take Mooch on out. I’ll sweep the rest of the house.”
The door at the top of the stairs swung open. Emerson shrieked. Someone else screamed, and Caleb instantly leapt to protect, shielding her with his body.
“Auntie Em?”
Fiona. It was Fiona standing at the top of the landing.
Caleb relaxed, dropping his head back against the wall as the adrenaline dump made his limbs shake.
Emerson clutched her chest, as if that would stop the heart no doubt trying to pound out of it. “Holy mother of God, child. I didn’t know you’d come home. You scared the life out of me.”
She’d obviously been sleeping. Pillow marks creased her cheeks. But her face was puffy, too, as if she’d been crying.
Caleb narrowed his eyes. “You okay, kid?”
Fiona’s lip wobbled and she swiped a hand under her nose. “Boys are stupid.”
“Unquestionably. Do I need to kill anybody?” If some punkass college boy had hurt her… “I can probably tag a couple of probies to help me hide a body if I have to.”
She offered up a tremulous smile. “No. But thank you for the offer.”
“I’m gonna let Mooch out and make some tea, okay? Then you can tell us what happened.”
Caleb liked that “us” a helluva lot. She wasn’t kicking him out to do the parenting thing, wasn’t taking it all on herself. He understood what that meant for Emerson, who never asked for help. It made him feel damned good to be included.
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
He trailed Emerson downstairs and put on the kettle himself as she let the dog out. It was probably a good thing Fi had left the door unlocked. Much as he wanted her to know about them, he didn’t want her finding out by walking in on him getting Emerson naked.
Oh hey kiddo. I know I promised you I’d look out for your godmother. You totally meant giving her as many orgasms as possible, right?
Yeah, that was not the kind of awkward he wanted to deal with.
Emerson joined him at the stove, trailing a light hand down his arm. “Sorry about this,” she murmured.
“It’s fine. There’s time.” It wouldn’t be the first night he had only himself and his right hand for relief.
Fiona padded in and slumped onto one of the barstools at the counter. Emerson moved to pull out mugs and tea, automatically prepping each of their favorites.
“Have you eaten?” Caleb asked.
Fi shook her head, looking miserable.
He moved to the freezer, checking the ice cream stash.
“What are you doing?”
“I had a lot of sisters. I know that face. It calls for ice cream.” Plunking the carton on the counter, he dug out a scoop and bowl. “So who is he and how bad did he screw up?”
“His name is Corbin.”
Emerson’s hands paused on the kettle. “Your lab partner in astronomy?”
Fi’s shoulders hunched. “Yeah.”
“I thought you two were just friends.” Emerson’s carefully neutral tone had Caleb wondering whether he needed to worry.
“I mean, we are. Good friends. We’ve got so much in common, and we’ve been hanging out a lot since the start of school. But we keep having these sort of…almost moments. You know?”
Enough of those almost moments built up to certainty. Caleb couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Emerson. “Yeah. I get you. So you think there’s something more than friendship there?”
“I mean…yeah. But he keeps doing this kind of hot-cold thing. Not, like, mean. Just, like, pretending the moments aren’t happening.”
Oh, how familiar this sounded. Not that he necessarily thought Fi should take his tactic of kissing the hell out of her friend.
Emerson set a mug in front of Fi. “Are you worried you’re misreading the situation, baby?”
Fiona frowned and poked at her ice cream. “No. I just…Last night, when we were doing our lab work, he nearly kissed me. But then he pulled back and made this lame excuse like that wasn’t what he was doing.”
Emerson scowled. “You’ve got enough on your plate, and you deserve better than a bunch of hot and cold from someone. He sounds like he’s either high maintenance or doesn’t know what he wants.”
If he hadn’t known what Emerson had been through, Caleb would’ve stared at her. There was no question that her lousy track record with her ex was coloring her advice. But they could do better. He turned his attention back to Fi. “What are you getting out of this friendship?”
“I mean…friendship. We’re close. We confide in each other. I’m the first person he calls with news. He’s my go-to person when I want to hang out or go do something. We’re each other’s cheerleader, you know?”
Color bloomed in Emerson’s cheeks as she wrapped her hands around her own mug. “Yeah, that makes sense.” The gaze she cast toward him was full of emotion. Oh yeah, she understood that’s what he’d done. What he’d keep doing.
But this wasn’t about them.
Caleb bumped Fiona’s shoulder. “The fact is, if it makes you feel good to connect with this guy—on whatever level—then maybe it’s worth whatever rough patches you go through on the way to figuring out whatever you’re going to be to each other.”
“Yeah. And I’d be fine just being besties. At least, I think I would. I’d just like to know, one way or the other, you know?”
Caleb totally knew. Just as he knew that now they’d crossed this line, he couldn’t go back with Emerson.
“Sometimes it takes people a long time to get up the guts to admit what they want. Especially if what they want changes something they already value.” Emerson kept her focus on her daughter, but Caleb knew she spoke to him.
He wished they could do more of this. They’d rock this co-parenting thing for their own child.
As the thought struck him, Caleb instinctively pulled back, remembering their conversation about kids when Fi left for college. Emerson considered herself done with that phase of life. If that wasn’t something she wanted, he didn’t want to let himself go down the path of dreaming about it himself. She was absolutely enough, all on her own.
But as Fiona continued to talk, Emerson met his gaze across the island, her expression full of shared amusement and gratitude, he thought of her epiphany at dinner. That she wasn’t old. Wasn’t some kind of cougar. Maybe there was a chance she’d change her mind.