A Hot Winter (New Adult Romance) (The Attraction Series Book 2) (22 page)

A week later, after the holidays had drifted from people’s minds and January had dropped a mountain of snow on the city of Boston, Tragan was sitting in his warm apartment watching basketball, when he heard Andy’s phone ring.  Damn, she must have forgotten to turn the ringer off when she’d gone to bed.  She was a light sleeper so it would definitely wake her. 

What he didn’t expect was for Andy to fly out of her bedroom a few minutes after, her blue eyes troubled, her face worried.  “What is it?” Tragan said, coming to his feet. 

“I’m so upset,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Babe, what is it?”

“Emma’s at the hospital.” 

~

It was impossible that three hours had passed already.  Three hours since Jake was admitted to St. Catherine’s.  Two hours since Emma had called Andy, told her what happened and asked her to come pick up Ben.  Endless time since she’d started praying and pacing, as her seven-year-old son lay unconscious in an adjacent room.

Now she felt more tears stream out of the corners of her eyes, but wiped them away efficiently.  Cracking and falling apart was not an option. 

Of course Andy and Tragan had offered to wait with her, but what she asked instead was that they take Ben home with them, so he wouldn’t have to spend his day--and probably night--in the hospital.  Normally Emma would have called her mom first for that type of favor, but she was away this week on a trip to Newport. 

Honestly, Emma would rather pace the hospital hallway alone than make “comforting” small talk with anyone, even Andy.  Because she couldn’t even bring herself to verbalize her fear and anxiety, waiting for Jake to wake up--assuming that he would--God, he had to, she thought desperately as more tears spilled out.  Fate didn’t hate her that much, did it?

If only it weren’t for the stupid trampoline!
she thought angrily, not for the first time this afternoon. 
And that annoying, rotten Cheryl!

Earlier, when Emma had been on the phone with Derek, distracted with work stuff, Jake had slipped outside, gone next door and asked Cheryl to play on the trampoline.  Apparently Cheryl missed the memo about adult supervision, because the irresponsible idiot had let Jake into the garage, and then just blithely went about her business in her house.  Not only did she not send Jake home, but she never thought to call Emma to make sure it was okay.

So, it was official: Emma despised Cheryl.  And if it made her mind feel better right now to hurl immature insults at the woman, so be it.

In a span of ten minutes, Jake had managed to fall off the trampoline and smash his head on the concrete floor.  Anyone who thought having kids was
not
the most stressful thing in the world had never had a neighbor like Cheryl.  Thank God Emma was moving in a week.  In the meantime, she would blame Cheryl and focus all her mental energy there--because rage made her feel better than helplessness.

Or guilt. 

What if Jake wasn’t okay?  What if he didn’t regain consciousness?  What if he had brain damage?  Dear God, if only Emma hadn’t blown her son off every time he’d asked about the trampoline.  If only she’d bothered to give him an explanation of why he couldn’t play on it.  Maybe he would have let go of the notion if he’d understood
why
. 

Twisting her hands, she tried to calm her breathing, as she continued to pace outside Jake’s room. 
I’m such a fool
.

“Emma!”

Startled, she whipped her head around.

“Matt…?” she blurted, surprised to see him jogging toward her, a concerned expression darkening his face.  “How did you know…?”

“Tragan called me,” he said when he reached her.  “I came straight here from my work site.  That’s why I’m kind of a mess,” he offered.  Maybe he meant the dried paint on his hands and work boots, but to Emma, he looked perfect.  Searching her eyes with his, Matt set his hands on her upper arms and asked, “What happened?”

Her emotions burst.  “Oh, Matt…I’m so happy you’re here!” she confessed, her voice breaking as the crying started again.  “I’m the worst mom.”

“Don’t say that,” he soothed.

“It’s true,” she insisted, sniffling.  “I should have told Jake why he couldn’t go on the trampoline.  I should have given him a reason.”

Matt brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek.  “Emma, he’s seven.  He doesn’t want to hear a reason.  He just wants to hear ‘yes.’”

At that, Emma blinked widely and tapped Matt’s chest.  “Oh, my gosh, you’re right.  I should have just said yes, and then gone over to supervise myself.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Matt countered gently.  “I meant that you’re an awesome mom.  You’re so caring and sweet,” he went on.  “This could happen to anyone.”  Doubtfully and still wracked with guilt, Emma squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.  Matt’s voice was low and intimate when he asked, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Sniffling, she kept her head ducked down, wiping more tears away and avoiding his eyes.  “Because I thought you were mad at me.” 

“I’m not mad at you,” Matt told her, his deep voice soothing.  “I’m in love with you.” 

Shocked, Emma’s watery eyes snapped up to his face. 

“There’s a difference,” he finished.

A sudden lump formed in her throat, rendering her utterly speechless.  If ever there was a time to fall against him, cling to him, count on him--it was now.  If ever there was a moment to admit the truth, this was it.

“Ms. Slate?”

Both Emma and Matt turned.  “Yes, Doctor,” Emma said urgently, approaching the affable middle-aged doctor she’d talked to twice since Jake was brought in. “What’s going on?”

The doctor gave her a smile.  “Jake’s awake.”  Immediately, Emma reacted, puffing out an epic sigh of relief and grasping at her chest.  “We’re happy to say he’s responding well, but we still want to monitor his concussion, so we’ll need to keep him overnight for observation.”

“I want to stay with him,” Emma said right away. 

The doctor had obviously anticipated that, because he nodded and said, “We’re having a cot brought up to his room.  We might need him to stay for two nights; I’m not sure yet.  With head injuries we like to be vigilant.” 

Nodding rapidly, Emma agreed, “Of course, whatever needs to be done.”

“It all depends on how he does tonight,” the doctor said.

“Can I see him now?”

“Yes, he’s been crying for you.  But don’t have him talk much right now.  It will make his headache worse.”

Frantically, she swiped grateful tears away, smiling brightly.  “Okay, thank you,” she said, before the doctor left her and Matt alone.

“You’d better go,” Matt said right away, giving Emma implicit permission to end their conversation and focus only on her son. 

Before she left, she touched his chest and said, “Matt…thank you so much for coming.  Thanks for being here.” 
Thanks for caring
.  Then, without thinking about it, she threw her arms around him.  He hugged her for just a moment, before pulling back and saying, “Now go.  And tell Jake I said hi.”

It was a few days later that Emma was looking around her mostly-packed house, and almost wondering why she was ducking Stacy Creston’s calls. 
Almost
--because deep down she knew.  Now she ambled uncomfortably into the kitchen, listening as Stacy talked into the machine.  “Emma, we really need to respond to this offer.  I’ve stalled as long as I can.  If we’re not going to counter properly, then we need to accept, so the buyer can contact the bank…”  And on it went.  Something about buyer conditions and closing costs and how Stacy couldn’t understand what the delay was since the offer was “comfortably close” to the asking price.

Emma couldn’t blame her realtor for being agitated.  It seemed that Emma’s avoidance strategy had finally run its course.  It was time to fish or cut bait, as her father liked to say.  Ironic, maybe, since he was an investment banker who had never gone fishing in his life.  Nevertheless, it
was
that time.  Time to make a decision.

Leaning against the center island, Emma took out her half of the arcade photo strip, which she’d been keeping in her back pocket lately.  It was almost too teenager-y to be carrying around a picture of a boyfriend like that--and
extra
ridiculous in her case.  Not even because she was twenty-seven, though that was true, but because Matt wasn’t her boyfriend.  Nothing had changed between them.  At least not on the surface.  Emma was still leaving, and a long-distance relationship was still impractical and rife with logistical problems.

Then there was her job.  Obviously she couldn’t just quit her job when she had two small kids to support.  Connor’s military benefits had left her more comfortable than a lot of widows, and thankfully her dad had helped her invest some of the life insurance money she’d received.   Still, that wouldn’t be enough to give Jake and Ben all that they needed for the next fifteen years, including their college funds. 

Again, Emma looked at Matt’s photo.  She sighed, feeling hopelessly torn.  How could she possibly let him go?

Then, a sudden thought struck her.  Made her back snap up straight and her mind buzz to life. 
Wait
…she thought, as the notion formed more fully in her mind.

Her heart began to speed up as she hurried to her office, and dug a phone number out of her desk.  Possibly it was a long-shot, but she had to try.  If it worked out…it wasn’t a long-shot after all.  Then it had to be Fate.

Nearly a week had passed since Matt had seen Emma in the hospital--though they had exchanged several texts.  She had updated him on Jake, who was home from St. Catherine’s and fully healed from his trampoline fiasco.  Again she’d thanked Matt for coming to the hospital, and she’d even asked him how his holidays were.  What she
hadn’t
done was acknowledge what he’d said to her in that hallway--nor did she tell him that she loved him back.

Now he sighed and pushed his disappointment aside, as he reached for his sander.  Just as he was starting it up, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.  Thompkins called to him, “Matt, I’m gonna test the circuit breaker.”

“Yep,” Matt replied, distracted as he read a newtext from Emma.
 
Lunch
?
  His pulse quickened, asanother text popped up.
 
Come outside
…
 

The corner of his mouth hitched up, as he walked to the foyer and stepped out the front door, expecting to see her.  She wasn’t on the front steps or the sidewalk.  In fact, he looked all around as he headed down the street, but still didn’t see Emma. 

His phone lit up again. 

There’s a pizza place down the street…

Intrigued, Matt continued walking in the direction of the pizza place, as another message appeared,

And a good taco place around the corner…

Now he remembered: this was their exact exchange the first time she’d surprised him at this work site. Except for the next message.

And a girl on a benc
h
.

And then he saw her. Just as he past a thicket of snow tipped evergreens, the circular stone bench came into view.  On it, sat Emma, holding her phone in her lap and looking up at him.  Today she wore a wool hat and thick coat; her cheeks were pink from the cold.  Her eyes looked bright green as the sun lit them up.  A smile came to her face as soon as she saw him. 

“Hi…” Matt began, coming closer to her.

Emma stood--then quickly looked back and brushed some snow off her butt.  He grinned at that.  She was so damn adorable, it was hard not to grab her right now, but he couldn’t.  Not with things hanging so confusingly open-ended between them. 

“Hi,” she said in return and closed the gap between them.  Looking up at him, she said, “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.”

“Good.”  With that, she reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped box.  “I never got to give you your Christmas present from Jake and Ben.”

Surprised, Matt took it and said, “Wow, thanks.  That was nice of them--should I open it now?”

“Of course.  How else can I tell them what your reaction was?”

“Okay,” Matt said with a soft chuckle and tore the paper off.  Tucked inside the box were a toy dinosaur and a yo-yo. 

Before he could react, Emma explained, “They won those at the Christmas Carnival at the Children’s Museum this year.”  She shrugged and with a little laugh said, “They told me they wanted you to have them for Christmas.”  Matt thanked her, inwardly flattered that Emma’s sons had thought of him over the holidays.  Emma continued, “Since we didn’t see you over Christmas, I thought I’d bring it to you now.  And also…here’s my gift for you.”

“Yours?” he said, his brows lifting.  “You got me something?”

Smiling warmly, Emma nodded and reached back into her bag.  She pulled out an even smaller box, and when Matt opened it, he found a miniature-sized hammer, made of glass.  “It’s a paperweight,” she was quick to explain.  Then she gave him a mischievous kind of smile.  “You know how concerned I can be about your paperwork…” 

The comment was suggestive, reminding him of the first time they’d slept together--of the stupid fight they’d had right before they started tearing each other’s clothes off.

“Also…” Emma began, looking almost bashful.  “I had a question to ask.”  With anticipation, Matt waited.  “Will you be my valentine?” she said.

His pulse began to pound, as he tried to make sense of this--of her.  “Valentine, huh?” he said finally.  “So…you want me to be your date on Valentine’s Day?”

“Of course,” she said emphatically.

“But you won’t be here on Valentine’s day.” 

“That doesn’t answer the question,” she pointed out.

“True,” he acknowledged, turning the glass hammer over in his hands.  He ran a hand over his jaw, thinking how he wanted to play this. 

“I know it’s a month away, but I figured I’d need to book you early,” she said.

Matt grinned at that.  “All right,” he said finally.  “But only on one condition.”  It might scare her off, but fuck it--he wasn’t going to play games.  Biting her lower lip, Emma waited.  “I’ll be your date on Valentine’s Day, if you’ll be my girl--every other day of the year,” he said.  Then stepped forward, bringing their bodies even closer, as he added, “And every year.”

“Oh, Matt…” she whispered brokenly, smiling as she looked into his eyes.  “I will.”

“You will?” he questioned, taken off-guard by how effortlessly she’d agreed.  She didn’t flinch, didn’t talk in circles about it, didn’t hesitate. 

“Yes, I will,” she said again, laying both hands on his chest.  “Because I love you,” she continued, her voice becoming emotional--as relief slammed him in the chest.  “And not just because you killed that spider for me.  Or put up my Christmas tree.  Or assembled the train station.  Not just because you came to the hospital.  And not just because you make me laugh and help me finish my crossword puzzles.”  Gently clutching the front of his shirt, Emma said, “I love you, because of who you are.  Because you fixed everything that was broken--and not just in my house.”

“Emma…” Matt said with a deep sigh and pulled her to him.  He gripped her in a tight, possessive hug, feeling her arms wrap around him, feeling them mesh together perfectly.  “I love you, too,” he murmured against her neck.  “We’ll figure this out. Ithaca isn’t that far away.”

Laughing softly, she said, “I’m not going to New York,” and hugged him even tighter. 

Stunned, Matt pulled back, studying her face.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean I rejected the offer on my house.  And I got
another
offer--for a job.”

“But what about your promotion?” he asked, confused.

“I gave Derek my notice.  I’m going to be taking an editorial job at Marta Vincent’s online magazine.  I called her the other day and pitched myself.”

“For real?” Matt blurted with a laugh.  “I…I don’t know what to say.  You’re not messing with me, are you?”

Wryly, Emma tilted her head.  “Now would I do that?”  Then quickly qualified: “I mean: what I do it on purpose?”

Matt had to laugh at that.  The girl
had
put him through hell…but it was nothing compared to how happy she made him. 

Running her hand over his cheek, Emma looked lovingly into his eyes and said, “There will always be other jobs.  There will never be another you.”

~

They met later at a Starbucks near Matt’s work site.  Tonight Jake and Ben were having dinner at Emma’s mom’s house, so it was a perfect chance to talk.  Sitting at a table by a window that was frosted over with ice and snow, Matt reached for Emma’s hand.

“We still have to hold off on sleepovers for a while,” she was telling him, as she laced her fingers through his, and let her other palm cradle her warm paper cup.  “It’s not that I want to--it’s a sacrifice, believe me.”

“I know, I already miss sleeping next to you,” Matt said.

“But we need to ease Jake and Ben into this relationship.  Get them used to the idea of you being around more.  Are you okay with that?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course.”

“And don’t worry.  We’ll figure out how to fit in our
private
time,” she said flirtatiously.

A sexy grin spread across his lips.  “I’m listening…”

With a smirk, Emma said, “That’s it, that’s all I had to say right now.”

“Oh,” Matt said, disappointed.  “I thought you were going to get into detail.” As she giggled and took a sip of her mocha, Matt’s expression turned a bit more serious.  Affectionately, he ran his thumb over the back of her hand and said, “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.  It’s about New Year’s Eve.”  Caught off-guard, Emma froze, unsure where this was going.  “I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it.”

She swallowed hard as her stomach tightened into a tense knot.  Still, she waited without interrupting.

“All right, let me start by saying that I had way too much to drink.” 
Oh, God
, she thought, shutting her eyes for a second, dreading what Matt was about to say.  Had he hooked up with another woman?  Technically he’d had every right to, but it would still crush her--to know that she’d spent so much of New Year’s Eve thinking about him, missing him…

“When I got back to my apartment, I ended up knocking over this open can of soda that was on my desk,” Matt continued, “and it spilled all over our picture.”

Emma waited for more.  When it didn’t come, she narrowed her eyes, perplexed.  “And…?”

“And it’s destroyed,” he said with a one-shouldered shrug.  “It must be the cheap photo paper they print them on,” he remarked, taking a drink of his coffee.  “Anyway, I’m sure you see where I’m going with this.”

Scrunching her brow, Emma said, “No, not really--I mean…is that it?  That’s all that happened on New Year’s Eve?”

“Yeah.  But it means now I need another photo of you.  To take to my next exam.  I’m giving you plenty of notice.  I know you weren’t too thrilled at the arcade when I sprung it on you.”

A giddy sort of laugh slipped out of her as she buried her face in her hands.  “Omigod, I’m so relieved.”  Then she glanced up at him.  “I thought you were going to tell me that, you know, maybe you kissed another girl or something.” 
Something far worse than kissing
.

“Another girl?” Matt repeated doubtfully, and dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.  “Nah.  I couldn’t do that.  You’re my girl.”

A smile broke over Emma’s face, as her stomach began to flutter and the reality of what was happening sank into her bones.  “I love you,” she said with an exhilarating kind of certainty. 

“I love you, too, beautiful.”