Another flick of that velvet whip known as her tongue. "For loosening me up yesterday."
"My pleasure."
"Is she about to," a deep voice asked from behind Emily. "She looks like she's about to."
"She probably already has," a female, who Jake suspected to be the Marilyn Emily had been talking to on the phone, said.
"Damn. Think she'll do it again?"
"The way she's been lately? Probably."
"Ignore them," Emily whispered. "They like being ignored."
"Dammit, Alex. I told you we should have bought that place in his building."
"It's your fault. You said the kitchen wasn't big enough for you," Alex shot back with irritation.
"I'm sure I can find a nice quiet place for you to continue thanking me," Jake murmured.
"Patience is a sexy virtue," she replied on a breath.
"You know, Marilyn, she's pretty good at this," the deep masculine voice commented.
"I certainly didn't teach her any of this. I do believe, Booker, that our little baby doll is ad-libbing."
"Hmm, yes. She's always been able to capture the attention of her audience. She's got a natural flair for it."
"Charisma," Marilyn added.
"That, too."
"Maybe we should find a nice quiet place," Emily said. Her eyes dropped suggestively to his mouth.
Jake's hormones screamed victory, but he wisely let his honorable nature shine through. "Patience is a sexy virtue, sweet Emily."
"Lee."
"No. Emily."
"Lee," she repeated without heat.
Jake gave a small shake of his head and tasted her lips with his tongue. "Emily tastes better."
"Lee needs a massage," she said.
Jake pulled back a little. "If sweet Emily asks, sweet Emily can have a massage any time of the day or night."
Something flashed in her eyes, he suspected it was the warring of her personalities—Lee versus Emily. She tugged him back to her. "Kiss me again and I'll consider letting you call me Emily."
"My pleasure. Emily." Jake poured everything he had into that kiss. The two months of lusting after her. The desire thrumming in his veins. The heat pounding in his groin. He showed her, in explicit detail, with his mouth and tongue what his body wanted to do to her. And when he, not her, was satisfied she understood that she would always be sweet, sexy Emily to him, he released her.
Jake opened his eyes and waited for her to look at him. If he hadn't been attuned to her every breath, he might have missed the subtle quivering of her hand on his shirt. Her nails dug into his chest and her mouth parted to moan softly. Her lashes fluttered up and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Jake's mouth fell open. Did she just have an…? No. She couldn't have. From a kiss? No way.
Her voice was throaty when she managed to speak. "You win. Oh God, do you win."
"Marilyn, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." The deep voice cleared his throat.
"I don't know about you, Booker, but I could do with some alone time."
"We're good friends, Marilyn. We can deal with this together."
"You've got a point."
"Bartender, two whiskeys."
"Make mine a double," Marilyn said unevenly.
"Hell, make both of 'em doubles. I had no idea she could do that. Damn, when did she grow up and learn how to do that?"
Jake touched her flushed cheek. "Emily… sweetheart, are you all right?"
"Never been better." Her smile was that of well-loved and momentarily satiated woman. "Well, my legs have turned to jelly and I can barely keep one thought in my head. But other than that… I'm just peachy. How about you?"
"Testing the limit of my patience," Jake muttered. "Do you think you can stand on your own?"
"Give me a minute. And whatever you do, do not say a word. Not yet." It was the longest moment of his life. He was about to speak when her eyes focused on him. "Don't ask me to dance for the next hour or so and I should recover. I hope."
Jake let her ease away from him until she stood on her own shaky legs. "Stay right there. I'll be right there. Don't move."
"Yes, sir."
Jake spun around and handed a customer's change to a stunned Nick. "Take over for me, Nick. Call if you need help."
"Jake," Nick caught him by the arm, "remember this moment when you sit down to write your will."
"I'm not likely to ever forget it." Jake lifted the trapdoor and slid out from behind the bar. He had to endure the congratulatory comments from every Bud and Frank who wanted to make the bar their home, but he managed to make his way through the crowded room to Emily.
She was smiling and talking to Bud and Frank. The two regulars were blushing like school boys and remarkably enough on their best behaviors.
Jake finally noticed the couple who sipped double whiskeys and stood directly behind Emily. The man—he figured was the uninvited Booker—was a good three, maybe four, inches taller than Jake and about that much wider all around. The woman, who had to be Marilyn, was curvy, luscious, and enough of a distraction to keep Alex and Nick occupied while Jake and Emily got better acquainted.
Jake slipped his arm around Emily's waist and drew her close. She leaned into him and he bent down to tell her and her alone, "When I get you alone, you are going to tell me exactly what just happened."
"It was rather indescribable."
"You've got an hour or so to come up a description," he told her.
"I'll try, but Marilyn and Booker will probably keep talking about it all night long."
"Then it was an…?"
Marilyn rested her chin on Emily's shoulder. "The word you are looking for is—"
"Marilyn," Emily snapped.
"Just trying to be helpful, darlin'," Marilyn drawled with a sweet grin and a Southern accent. She turned that charm on Jake and extended her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you, Jake."
Jake took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Marilyn." He tightened his grip on Emily's slender waist, his fingers rested on her warm midriff. He was effectively holding Emily upright with one arm. He turned his attention towards the large man with an empty glass of whiskey. "And this must be Booker."
"That I am." Stiff handshakes were exchanged. "Nice place you've got here. It reminds me of a place I used to work in after I got out of the Marines. Except, it's a hell of a lot cleaner."
"Thanks. Alex and Nick, behind the bar, share The Brigade with me."
"Hi," Nick said with a polite nod to Booker.
"Hello," Alex said with a salute to Marilyn.
Jake looked down at Emily. "How about a drink, sweetheart?"
"Anything with a lot of ice."
Booker chuckled. "That is an excellent idea." He set his glass on the bar and said, "One more whiskey and I should be back to normal." His eyes slid to Emily. "As long as you don't do that thing that you do all too well… again."
Emily shrugged. "I make no promises, Booker. Tell me, are my cheeks still as red as I imagine them to be?"
Jake tensed as Booker caught her chin and turned her face from side to side, scrutinizing every minor detail. "Baby doll, it's going to take a lot more than one drink with a lot of ice to make that blush disappear."
Baby doll? This mammoth creature called his sweet Emily… baby doll?
Emily stuck her tongue out at Booker.
Booker returned the gesture.
"Ah, children, children," Marilyn murmured. "I thought you got that out of your system in the car."
"She started it."
Marilyn rolled her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "Lee is younger than you, Booker. I expect such juvenile behavior from her. She's practically a baby compared to you."
"Thanks a lot, Marilyn. I love you, too," Emily said wryly.
"Yeah, thanks a lot, Marilyn." Booker picked up Emily's jacket from the bar. "Come on, baby doll. Let's find you a safe place to perch before the sex crazed maniacs start flocking to the scene of the crime. You can come, too, Jake. It's about time somebody relieved me of guard duty."
Jake motioned for Booker to lead the way to a couple of chairs at the end of the bar. "She should be safe right over there."
Marilyn planted her hands on her hips and glared at Booker's massive back. "It's not my fault, Booker. It's not like I advertise."
Booker glanced over his shoulder at Marilyn and gave her a thorough once over with his dark brown eyes. "Don't you?" She fumed at him and he laughed then held out a hand. "Come on, beautiful. Buy me a drink and I'll call truce."
"A truce would imply that I surrender and I do not surrender." Marilyn latched onto Booker and let him lead her away. "You know, it's been a good six months since we've been out like this. Lee works us like dogs."
"No, she works me like a dog. She works you like a poodle."
"A poodle is a dog."
"Not where I come from, sugah," Booker replied dryly.
Jake chuckled and glanced down at the goddess in his arms. "I'm afraid to ask where you found them."
"Who? Oh, the gruesome duo. We used to work together." Emily smiled up at him as he guided her to her chair. "I keep trying to get rid of them, but they just won't go away."
Jake pulled back a bar chair and, fitting his hands to her waist, hoisted her up and onto it. She was lighter than a sack of feathers. "How long have you been trying?"
"Ten years. Every time I moved, they'd just show up on my doorstep and invite themselves over for beer and pizza. Finally, I gave up and let them do odd jobs around the house. Booker is a wonder at cleaning the toilet. Marilyn is a whiz at changing oil. Oh, did I say changing oil? I meant attracting sex-crazed grease monkeys."
Jake was leaning against the bar and engrossed in watching Emily speak, when Marilyn said, "Don't let her fool you, Jake. She gave up trying to get rid of us after the first couple of months."
"Well, I had to. You kept taking clothes from my closet. If I hadn't let you be my friend, I would have had to walk around in my underwear all the time."
Jake sucked in a sharp breath at the image sweet, delectable Emily's words provoked.
Marilyn patted his arm soothingly. "Lee, darlin', have a care for poor Jake. He's barely recovered from your first surprise." Marilyn gave him a sympathetic look. "She's a handful, Jake. Are you sure you'll be able to handle her?"
"Miss Marilyn, there is precious little in this life I'm sure of." He met Emily's wary eyes and gave her a smile of promise. "But I'll give it my best shot."
"Hmm," Marilyn murmured. "I just bet you will."