“Just spit it out before you hurt yourself.” Emerson wasn’t sure how much more of the emotional stuff he could take. He counted on his brother to diffuse tension and have his back, not to dive into the deep dark depths of his psyche.
“You’re better with her. Since Sophie started staying with you, you’ve been lighter. Happier. She’s good for you.”
Everything his brother said was true but that didn’t mean it mattered. There was more at play than just his feelings.
“Not if she lies.”
“We all lie, asshole,” said Gabe, back to channeling his inner smart ass. “Besides, you don’t know how much was a lie and how much she didn’t know. She wasn’t exactly acting like someone who was trying to hide their identity.”
He was right. That was one of the things that bothered him. The other thing was that it was becoming increasingly likely the Darah were gunning for Sophie, and aside from keeping her hidden, he didn’t know how to keep her safe. If Gabe was right and she had something they wanted, they weren’t going to let her go. He could keep a security detail on her, but it was going to take something much bigger to make them lose interest.
All of it was a good reminder that he was supposed to be looking out for her, not playing house. The sooner they both realized it, the safer she’d be. He’d been thinking with the wrong head where Sophie was concerned. Wanting her so damn much clouded his better judgment, and he was going to have to find a way to fix it. Right after he convinced himself that he wanted to fix it. In the long run, that might be harder than taking down a cartel.
––––––––
SOPHIE LAID THE necklacein an oval on the velvet-lined box, pinning it in place so it couldn’t get tangled before Emerson had a chance to give it to his sister. She fastened the delicate drop earrings in the center and closed the lid with a snap. The finality of the action made her blink against the tears filling her eyes.
It was silly. She’d loved working on the set. It turned out better than she’d imagined, and she was thrilled Amanda would be the one to wear it. She’d never met the other woman but from the pictures she’d seen around Emerson’s place, she seemed fierce and independent. The tiny pearl flowers would look beautiful on her long, slender neck and hopefully add something as she took the first step into her new life with Michael. It was the only way she could think of to give Emerson back some of what he’d given her, but finishing felt like an ending. Punctuation on the end of a season or something, which was crazy. She’d finished a piece of jewelry not closed some kind of chapter.
Maybe it was because she’d packed her tools away and turned Emerson’s kitchen table back into a place to eat instead of a makeshift workspace. That might have been where the feeling came from, but he’d been so accommodating of her mess. For a man whose life was as ordered as his, he’d never complained about her taking over his table. She wanted to show him she could respect his space.
She had a couple of hours before Emerson would be home. There was that word again. The one that made her think things she had no business wanting. If she was more domestic, she’d plan something for dinner. Or she could take a bath and pop a frozen pizza in the oven and challenge him to a couple of rounds of theArrangement. Wrapped in a towel fresh from the tub, she doubted Emerson would notice the difference between a home-cooked meal and pizza from a box. And if she turned on the oven to heat the pizza then it counted as cooking, right?
Tucking the box away until later, she headed to the master bath with its tub big enough for two. As she waited for the tub to fill, she stripped off her clothing. Before she stepped into the steaming water, she heard the front door open, which made it her lucky day. She shouldn’t have any trouble convincing Emerson to join her. They’d already christened the tub, but there was no reason they couldn’t do it again.
“I’m back here,” she called, shutting off the water. With the two of them in the tub, it didn’t need to be as full, something she’d learned the first time they tried it. “Get naked and get in here.”
“I need to talk to you, Sophie,” he said, standing in the open doorway and deliberately not looking at her.
She was half tempted to tell him to talk, but she wasn’t that bold. There wasn’t a thing about him that seemed playful. The fact that he insisted on looking everywhere but at her reinforced her opinion.
“Sure. Give me a minute.” She didn’t want to be naked for whatever they were going to talk about.
Slipping into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt that had been washed so many times the cotton fibers were almost all gone, she followed him to the living room.
“What is it? Did something happen?” she asked, shifting from anticipation to concern.
“I think I know who’s trying to kill you. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me you owned a pearl farm in Australia.”
