Chapter Six

Emma turned to her side and stretched out her arms. No one was in the bed. Her eyes filled with tears and she swiped them away. She shouldn’t be upset. He wanted to leave last night, but she made him stay. At least he waited until she was fast asleep before he disappeared, unlike his asshole brother. It had barely been over when Mark got up to search for his clothes.

Something black caught her eye. She stepped from her bed, grabbed her robe and moved toward the object. One of Luke’s shoes. Searching the room, she spied the second one half under the bed.

He hadn’t left.

“I can’t talk now.”

The whispered words moved her to the kitchen, robe still in hand. She spied him at the sink, clad in his jeans with bare feet and a gloriously bare chest. What a pleasant thing to witness so early on a Sunday morning, a half-naked guy making coffee. The coffeemaker gurgled as the last of the water perked through, going silent a second later.

“I told you,” he spoke into his cell, still not turning from the sink. “I’m not home, Mom.”

Mom? He’s talking to his mother, in her kitchen, while she was standing naked. She yanked on her robe and slashed it tight at her waist. What a silly way to react. His mother couldn’t see her.

“Hey, babe.”

“Good morning.”

“I’m listening, Mom,” he said, extending one arm. She settled against him. “I’m not alone.”

She moved to his front, delighting in his uneasiness as well as his care. She winked and tapped his hip, placing both hands flat on his hard ass. He growled her name and pushed her away.

“No, I stubbed my toe.” A frown took over his grin now. “What?” He listened to his mother for a long few seconds, and then said, “Rebecca shouldn’t have said anything. She promised she wouldn’t say anything until I—”

“Rebecca? She told your mother what she saw, didn’t she? I didn’t want anyone to know about us yet.”

He placed his finger over his lips. “Yes, I’m with a woman.”

Hesitation fumed into slight annoyance at his attitude. This would never have happened if he kept his hands to himself after their stupid meeting. A week ago. Had it only been a week? “It’s your fault, Luke.”

Luke shrugged and then said, “Yes, she a part of the catering place.”

She shook her head hard at him.

“Her name is Emma.”

She threw her arms up and raced out of the room. For someone who wanted to leave her last night because someone might recognize his car, to someone telling his mother everything about her the next day, didn’t settle well with her.

Why didn’t he leave like she half-expected him to do?

They’d had sex, just like she had sex with his brother.

With his brother?

Damn, what had she done?

She sank onto her couch and buried her face in her hands. What must he be thinking? She’d given herself to him almost as easily as she gave herself to his brother. Yet the two weren’t the same at all. His brother left without saying a word; he stayed. His brother didn’t say much of anything to her, but Luke wanted to talk. Friday night they talked for hours without even realizing it. And he’d talked with her at the diner with her mother and sister, not to mention right now.

He wasn’t the same type of guy.

“Emma?”

Overreaction maybe, yet she didn’t want to see him now.

“I made coffee.” A hint of laughter sang in his voice. “Want some?”

Tears threatened. Stupid damn hormones. “I can get it myself.”

“No, I’ll get it for you.” Relief sounded in his tone. He set the phone on the stand by the door and raced back into the kitchen. A cabinet opened and closed, and then a second one opened before she heard him pull out the pot from the maker. It clinked back into place and he appeared at the door, two steaming cups in his hand.

“I make a mean cup of coffee,” he said, teasing edge in his tone. “Good stuff.”

She gripped the offered cup. Steam rose off it, the sharp scent of her favorite drink filled her nose. She loved the smell of coffee.

“Babe?”

“Don’t call me that.” She took a careful sip, refusing to give in to his playful attitude. She wasn’t sure why she was so upset. They had dinner together in public and his car had been sitting in her driveway all night. And this was a small town. “You told your mother my name. Why?”

“Rebecca already told her,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Monday, she promised to keep what she saw a secret, yet…”

“Your mother used enhanced interrogation techniques on her.” Sarcasm sang loud in her voice. “And she had to talk.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“You get what?” Staying mad at anyone was hard, yet it was impossible with a hot guy with bare feet and a smooth, touchable chest. Not to mention a sexy grin that set her heart racing. How can a woman stay upset at a man who’d had her screaming his name the night before? Who had her wanting to scream it again with just a silly grin? Especially when that woman wasn’t sure why she was angry in the first place? “You did ask her not to tell anyone, so I guess that’s something.”

“Yes, I did ask her,” he said, twisting to look at her. He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Rebecca would have honored that promise, if she could. Mom must have heard something from someone else.”

“Who?”

He shrugged. “I followed you home Friday night and joined you for dinner yesterday at the diner. Mom has a lot of friends.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Shouldn’t Emma be more upset? And why did she suddenly want to touch him? “Pregnant lady hormones, I’m suspecting.”

“You think so?” Luke fingered her hair and drew her close to his smirking mouth. “So does that mean you don’t want me to leave?”

She curled her legs and turned toward him, placing her hand flat on his naked chest. He took in a hard breath when her finger dropped to his upper thigh. Shivers flowed across her skin, a sweet warm tingling sensation easing down her body. “What do you think?”

He growled her name in frustration and captured her mouth. She attacked his tongue with hers, smoothed it over the top of his mouth and pressed him back into the sofa. Her body erupted with need so hot and fast and hard it melted her core. It spread like the flame in a gas oven. She deepened the kiss, enjoying the control he gave her. Then she released his mouth, sat up, and untied the sash at her waist. The material fell open as she stood and let it drop to her feet. Her hands went to her breasts, cupping them hard. Luke jerked out of his pants and flung them to the coffee table. His cock stood proud and straight.

Moist longing raced through her body at the sight. But it was the yearning settling into her heart that froze her in place. How in the hell could love happen? In such a short time. With the brother of her sperm donor?

“Babe, I’m dying here.”

Emma couldn’t move. No, she couldn’t be falling in love with this man. It was sex, that’s all. Only sex. This whole thing had to be because she was pregnant. Wanting him so desperately right now, after being upset at him, didn’t make any sense if her hormones weren’t so out of control.

“Babe, come here.”

He rose easy from the sofa and took her hand, pulling her on top of him. Penis resting hard and ready between her thighs, lips tracing a line of heat and need over her forehead and nose to her chin before angling over her mouth once again. He lifted her, positioning her over his arousal and slowly joined their bodies. She came to life then and took over the movement, raising her upper body from his and lifting off him. One foot on the floor and one hand clasping the back of the sofa, she rode him until a fierce orgasm slammed into her. She shook with the sweet brutality of it, thrusting again and again until he stiffened and growled her name. He grabbed her hips and jerked up a few times before pulling her into a weak kiss.

Then the only movement was his chest rising fast to meet her sensitive breasts. The only sounds were the rasping of their breaths.

“I could get used to this,” he whispered a few second later, breath warm against her slightly bruised mouth. “My brother said you were—”

His groan blocked out the rest of his words. Emma didn’t care to hear them. Nothing that his asshole of a brother said interested her. Neither did what he thought or wanted. Or, she suddenly realized, she didn’t care what Uncle George thought, or the Benjamin clan, or anyone else. All she cared about was what Luke thought.

“Mom wants to meet you.” His whisper echoed loud in the quiet room. “I told her someday, but not yet.”

Emma let out a sigh and then lifted her head from his shoulder. “I’d like to meet her, Luke.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Really? You would?”

“Yes,” she said, resting her head back into his shoulder. “Mark was a mistake, you’re not.”

He went quiet at her statement. Except for loud inhales and the rapid beat of his heart against her cheek, he didn’t move or react. Then he exhaled one long, deep breath warm over her hair, lifting it gently from her head, and encircled his arms soft around her waist.

She could get used to this.

“She mentioned something about the Thanksgiving Festival, the early Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday,” he said, tender excitement in his voice now. “It’s two weeks away.”

“Cooks is one of the places catering that dinner,” she said.

“Benjamin Winery has a booth at the festival this year,” he said. “I’m going to be helping Mom on Friday and Saturday. We got a table set up inside the community hall to sell our wine for the Christmas charity.”

The holiday season would be the perfect time to meet his parents, if it was okay with her family. Thanksgiving would be the first holiday her mother celebrated without her father. So shouldn’t she be spending the day with her?

“You don’t need to decide now, babe.”

“No, I want to meet her. I’m helping Mom, Steph, and the aunts with the dinner, so I’ll already be there.” She rose from him and settled into the opposite corner of the couch. He raised his bare feet into her lap, stretching his body out the length of the sofa. She skimmed her fingernails down the rough bottom. “Cute.”

Luke placed his hands under his head and winked. “So are you.”

She just shook her head. “How can two brothers be so different?”

He brushed his foot into her arm. “Does that mean you like me?”

“Well, let’s put it this way,” she said, tickling the bottom of his foot again. “You are more charming than your brother.”

“That’s a good thing.” He snorted to keep from laughing. “Seeing that you think Mark’s an asshole…”

“He is,” she said, with less anger and heat as usual. “But I’m not exactly innocent.”

“No, not even close.”

The words were harsh yet his smirk told her he was joking. She relaxed into the sofa and crossed her arms over her breasts. His eyes narrowed and then he stood and reached for his pants and her robe. He threw her covering at her, and slipped into his jeans. Disappointment filled her when he sat at the far end of the couch, completely clothed.

“I can tell you need to talk, babe.” He pushed the robe closer. “If you want my full attention, you need to cover that delicious body of yours.”

Emma pushed away the sudden tears and tied her robe tight around her. She wasn’t sure if the tears were because of his sensing she wanted to talk or that he was willing to listen. Or maybe it was just more of those hormonal outburst caused by the little one growing inside her.

“You okay?”

She straightened up so quickly she pressed into the cushion. “Yes, I’m fine.” Concern still lined his eyes. “Why?”

He touched the hand she’d spread wide on her stomach, caressing his fingers over it. “I thought something was wrong with…the baby.”

Oh, damn, why did he have to be so kind? Why did he have to show he cared? Tears wet her cheek.

“Emma?”

She took in one mouthful of air after another until her emotions settled down. “Stupid hormones.”

His concern changed to bewilderment. “Hormones?”

Would she ever get control of her feelings during this pregnancy? She didn’t remember her sister crying at every single kind word or act of caring.

“Emma?”

She waved him away again, and took in another breath. What the hell were they talking about?

“You want to talk, Emma?”

This time she controlled her reaction. Without thinking over what would come out, she said. “Do you know why I slept with your brother that night?”

“You were drunk,” he said, hint of laughter in his tone. “You were horny.’

“Yes,” she said. “I was drunk.”

“But you weren’t horny?”

A slow amount of joy from earlier rose in her. “Not as much as I was with you.”

“Was?”

“Am,” she said. “With you.”

“So you slept with me because you needed to scream my name?”

His teasing question wasn’t far from the truth. “Yes.”

“Good.” Satisfaction and pride revealed clear in his demeanor. “I can live with that reasoning for now.”

Good thing because that’s the only explanation she was giving. The rest of her motivation was too new. If this was only about sex with Luke, it would be fine. Without love, even the best sex gets boring. That’s why his brother not showing up one day didn’t bother her that much. But with Luke, it’d be different. She already sensed it.

He pushed her leg with his bare foot, bringing her out of her thoughts. This man made her feel safe and secure in both body and spirit. “Mark was in the right place at the right time. Or maybe it was the wrong time.”

“Yes,” he said, dropping his foot on the floor. He picked up his forgotten, empty coffee cup. “I’ll get us refills.”

She wrapped her arms around her curled legs. “Thank you.”

Emma closed her eyes as he moved around in the kitchen. Soon he appeared in the living room with two cups. He handed one to her and settled into the corner of the couch, giving her space.

“You’re nothing like Mark,” she whispered again. “He never did anything nice for me.”

He stayed quiet and sipped his coffee. “So why did you get with him? What caused it?”

“It’s a long story.” Emma had a feeling he knew a bit about her past, her marriage. Uncle George said he would check out her and the business. Her divorce was common knowledge, but not the reason for it. Unless his investigator talked with mother or sister—or Frank himself—he wouldn’t know anything about her two years of trying to get pregnant. “Well, I can make it shorter. For years Frank and I tried to have a baby, and we couldn’t. He blamed me for it. That’s what led to our divorce.”

“You ex-husband blamed you?”

She shook her head, looking down at her coffee. “According to the doctor who checked us both out, he didn’t have any problems.”

“And you did?”

“No, I didn’t either,” she whispered. “The day I met your brother at that bar I saw Frank and his new wife. And she was very, very pregnant.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, oh. That just kind of confirmed that it was my fault.” Her grasped tightened around the hot cup. “That’s where I was when I went into that bar with some old college friends. I didn’t even worry about a possible pregnancy.” Anger washed like fire through her. “It wasn’t until three weeks ago when I missed a period that I suspected I might have been wrong.” She swallowed her temper. “I got a home pregnancy test and it came back positive. I redid the test, and it still turned blue.”

“That’s when you realized you didn’t even know his last name?”

Shame rose in her. “Mark’s not the only bad person here. I am too.”

“No, you’re not.”

Emma wanted to believe him, but what else would you call it. What else would you call a woman who picks up a man in a bar and has sex with him more than a dozen times, and still doesn’t get his last name? The fault is as much hers as it was Mark’s. “I saw a picture of him and Rebecca in the newspaper, announcing their engagement. I felt like such a fool.”

“Don’t even think that, Emma.” His foot tapped her lower leg gently. “No one’s perfect, you know. We all make mistakes.”

She looked over the raised cup to his face. His expression looked far away, as if seeing one of his own clear in his mind. She leaned forward quickly, spilling a few drops of the liquid onto her bare knees. “I hope that look isn’t because of me.”

Luke shook his head. “Never you, babe.”

“Good.” Relief calmed her shoulders into the cushion. She wiped the liquid from her legs and sipped. “So what took you away?”

“You noticed that, did you?” His tone lightened a bit. “Only one other woman ever knew me that well.”

“Kathleen?”

“Yes, my wife.” He pulled his leg away and sat straight on the couch, glancing into the kitchen. “Kathleen was one of Rebecca’s friends from college.” His head lowered at the memories. “It just took one look and I knew she was the one for me. We married less than a year later.”

“It took Frank and me three years,” she said, grinning at the sweeter reminders of her past. “We dated seven or eight months before we even kissed.”

“Didn’t take me that long to kiss Kathleen,” he whispered. “Yet, if you want to know the truth, it took a little longer than it took me to kiss you.”

“You were grieving,” she said. “For two years.”

“Did I tell you that?” He studied her for a moment before shrugging. “But you’re right. I was still grieving for her.” He stopped speaking as he drank his coffee. “I think we need to get something to eat.”

“Yes.” She leaped from the couch. Thankfully no coffee spilled this time.. She waved toward him. “You stay here and I’ll make us breakfast, Luke.”

Instead of obeying, he stood and pointed toward the kitchen door. “After you.”