Smart Girls Think Twice (2 page)

Emma saw red. For once in her life, she didn’t think; she just acted. A moment later, Roy ended up on the floor, his hands protectively cupping his family jewels.

“No one touches me without my permission, and no one calls me ugly.” She sent a warning glance to the remaining handful of patrons in the bar. “You got that?”

They all nodded.

Emma could tell Jake was impressed. That certainly hadn’t been her intention. He now eyed her with newfound respect along with a dose of masculine curiosity. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice shook, so she paused to clear her throat and regain some calm. “I should have introduced myself in the beginning. My name is Emma Riley.”

“Riley?” a pot-bellied man with a John Deere cap said. “Are you related to Sue Ellen Riley?”

“Yes. She’s my oldest sister.”

He nodded sagely. “That explains it. Those Riley women are downright crazy.”

“I don’t appreciate being called crazy,” Emma said.

“Where did a sociologist learn moves like that?” Jake asked her.

“Self-defense classes. I live in Boston. I’m only here for the summer doing my research.”

She awkwardly climbed back onto the bar stool. Inside she was shaking like crazy, frantically trying to keep the panic at bay.
You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay. You’re
safe now. You’re safe.

Deere-cap Man helped Roy to his feet and guided him out. Before leaving, Roy paused at the door to look back at Emma. The venom in his stare made her tremble even more.

How had things gotten so out of hand so quickly? Her sisters Sue Ellen and Leena were the ones who caused chaos. Emma was the one who studied mayhem from afar and dispassionately analyzed its cause and effect.

But being groped like that brought back bad memories and Emma had just reacted instinctively.

Not her proudest moment. She clasped her shaking hands together in her lap.

“So you’re a kick-ass sociologist,” Jake said.

Yeah, right. “I should have gone for a more peaceful resolution, using words instead of force.”

“Roy was in no mood to listen to anything you had to say.”

“Even so, I shouldn’t have stooped down to his level.”

“You were protecting yourself.”

“I should have reasoned with him.”

“Yeah, that would have worked,” Jake noted in a mocking voice.

“It might have. I didn’t even speak to him. Give him a warning before—”

“Busting his nuts?”

Emma put her hands to her flushed face. “Maybe I should go after him and apologize.”

“Are you crazy?”

She lowered her hands and glared at him. “I believe I’ve already stated the fact that I do not appreciate being called crazy.”

“Yeah, well, how would you describe a woman who walks into a bar and stirs things up?”

“I’d describe her as having a very bad day. Stirring things up was never my intention. I leave that to the rest of my family,” Emma muttered.

“Here.” He poured her a stiff drink. “You look like you could use this.”

Emma eyed it cautiously. She was totally out of her element here. She was an academic who was more at home in a university library than a bar. So what was she doing starting a brawl like some biker babe?

Okay, so she hadn’t actually
started
it—Roy had done that by grabbing her and squeezing her derriere. He’d trapped Emma between his body and the bar and she’d panicked. Plus he’d called her ugly.

Apparently those Managing Assaultive Behavior classes she’d taken on campus had worked better than she’d expected.

Not that she’d ever attack someone merely for saying she was ugly. Emma knew all too well that she was no beauty. Her sister Leena got the pretty genes. Emma got the smart genes—along with mousy brown hair, a face that was a tad too wide, and plain brown eyes.

Jake nudged the glass a little closer. “Drink.”

She did and almost choked.

“You’re supposed to sip it, not gulp it in one go,” he said.

She was too busy coughing to answer him.

“Next time you’ll know better. Live and learn.”

Emma was better at the learning part than the living part. Always had been.

“You could have warned me,” she said once she could finally speak again.

“How was I supposed to know that you were so . . . inexperienced?”

“I only drink the occasional glass of wine. Do I look like the kind of woman who’s a pro at belting shots of whiskey?”

“No, but then you don’t look like the kind of woman who can kick ass either.”

“I already told you that I regret doing that.”

“I don’t believe in regrets.”

“Really?” Emma said wistfully. “That must be nice.”

“I don’t do nice either.”

“You stuck up for me when Roy grabbed me. That was nice of you.”

Even Jake’s grimace was brooding. “Yeah, right. You didn’t need my help. You nailed him on your own.”

“Oh, but I do need your help,” she assured him. “The success of my entire project rests on your participation.”

“You don’t give up easily.”

“Not where my work is concerned, no.”

“Why me?”

“Because I need your demographic. You’re the most recent arrival in Rock Creek and the only one in your subset.”

“Just lie and say someone else is the most recent arrival.”

“I don’t lie.”

“Everybody lies,” Jake said.

“I don’t.”

Jake stared into her wide brown eyes and wondered if this chick was for real. She seemed younger than she probably was. How long did it take to be a sociologist anyway? She looked like an academic with her smart-girl glasses and sedate blue polo shirt tucked into her prim khaki skirt.

Not that he had much experience with that kind of woman. He was more accustomed to babes than bookworms.

She had great legs, though. From what he could see of them. Imagining her kicking ass in stilettos and black leather got him hard and hot. He’d clearly been without a female for far too long.

Time for some sex.

But not with smart girl Emma Riley.

Jake didn’t need any distractions in his life right now. He had his own reasons for coming to Rock Creek.
Private
reasons he wasn’t about to share with anyone.

Not that he was a man who made a practice of spilling his guts. Not in this lifetime. He’d learned early that showing any vulnerability was the kiss of death. Growing up in the foster care system, being moved from place to place, had taught him early to be self-sufficient. No one else was going to look out for him. No one else was going to protect him. The tougher he was, the better.

Not so Emma. He had her pegged as a total heart-on-her-sleeve type, mixed in with a big dose of intellectual nerdiness. His total opposite. Having sex with her was definitely not a smart idea.

All very logical, but Jake was an adrenaline junkie and a rebel. There was no satisfaction in playing it safe. If he had played it safe, he wouldn’t have survived the climbing accident that had ended his career.

The more he told himself that he should send Emma packing, the more tempted he was to keep her around.

“Why are you studying newcomers to town?” he said.

Her entire face lit up as she leaned closer. “It’s part of my project about the rebirth of Rock Creek.

I’m conducting a study on the recent societal influences and changes here. In the past year the town has gone from a past-its-prime location to becoming a New Age center for the arts.”

Jake couldn’t help wondering if her face lit up like that when she was having sex. He wasn’t really paying attention to her words, but he still said, “Tell me more.”

“Sure.” She beamed at him. “I’d be delighted to.”

“Start at the beginning.”

“Well, as you probably know, sociology is the study of human society and social behavior.

Sociologists are mainly interested in social interaction. You know, how people react.”

Jake sure knew how he was reacting. It didn’t take a sociologist to figure out that his body was primed and ready for hers.

“What’s going on in Rock Creek is a social phenomenon of sorts,” she continued. “I’m here to observe the facts and events, to examine group behavior, to unravel the hidden meanings behind the human actions. Are you with me so far?”

“Oh yeah.” The human actions he was picturing were all X-rated and probably illegal in several Southern states.

“I can show you more if you’d like.”

He imagined her showing him plenty—undoing the buttons on her polo shirt, shimmying out of her prim skirt before stepping up onto the bar and doing a striptease just for him, showing him every inch of creamy skin on her entire body.

“As I said,” Emma continued, “what’s going on here is very exciting.”

Oh yeah. Jake was past excited at this point and rapidly approaching ready to launch.

“What made you pick Rock Creek?” she asked. “Do you have family here?”

Emma saw the change that instantly came over Jake’s face. She also saw her chances of getting him to agree to participate in her study slipping away before her very eyes. Why, oh why had she asked him that personal question? It was too soon. She should have stuck to facts and figures.

She’d totally messed up and he’d totally shut down.

Just when Emma thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did: her mother sauntered into the bar and plunked herself onto the stool beside her.

“Sweetie, what are you doing in here?” Maxie, aka Maxine Riley, asked. As a retired hairdresser, she prided herself on the style du jour she devised for herself. Today’s version featured seashell combs holding her artfully colored red hair atop her head. The combs matched her seashell top and cropped pants. Maxie eyed Emma with disapproval. “Why are you hanging around a bar in the middle of the day?”

Emma felt like sinking through the floor. She wasn’t a child requiring parental supervision.

“I’m working, Mother.”

Maxie leaned toward Jake. “She only calls me ‘Mother’ when she’s really peeved with me.

Otherwise it’s always ‘Mom.’ But you can call me Maxie,” she told him before returning her attention to Emma. “I overheard some inebriated man outside claiming you beat him up.

Is it true? Is that part of your job, Emma? I didn’t think sociologists were supposed to assault people.”

“They’re not. He started it.” Great. Emma momentarily closed her eyes. Now she
did
sound like a nine-year-old.

“Hmm.” Maxie switched her attention back to Jake. “I’ll have a Diet Coke with a slice of lime, please.”

“What are you doing?” Emma said, her eyes popping open to gaze at her mother in horror.

“Ordering a drink,” Maxie replied.

“You can’t stay here,” Emma said a tad frantically.

Maxie turned and eyed her from head to toe. “I thought your sisters were going to help you with your outfit.”

“I don’t need their help.”

Maxie’s raised eyebrow indicated otherwise. She smiled at Jake as he placed her Diet Coke and lime in front of her. “You may have noticed how tan I am. That’s because I live in Florida. I’m up here for my daughters’ weddings. Not this daughter, of course.” She tilted her head toward Emma.

Emma wondered why the
of course
. Was it so far-fetched that she would find the man of her dreams and tie the knot?

“I mean my other two daughters,” Maxie blithely continued. “They’re both getting married.

Only two weeks apart, can you believe it?”

Emma had to stop this runaway train somehow. “Mother, I’m sure Jake isn’t interested in the family’s wedding plans.”

“You should come,” Maxie told Jake. “We really don’t have enough good-looking men attending.

You could be Emma’s date.”

“She’s kidding,” Emma quickly assured Jake. She had to get her mother out of there before she said or did anything else to embarrass her. “Come on, Mother, we’ve got to go.”

“Go where?” Maxie protested. “I’m not done with my drink.”

“Yes, you are.” Emma tugged her mother off the stool and put a five-dollar bill on the bar.

“We’ll talk again soon, Jake.”

“Of course you will. He’s bringing you to the wedding,” Maxie said. “Right, Jake?”

“Don’t answer that,” Emma told him.

“I raised her to have better manners,” Maxie told Jake.

“I’m sure you did,” he said solemnly.

Maxie shook her head. “Emma has never been a troublemaker before.”

“She’s having a bad day,” Jake said.

“A
very
bad day,” Emma muttered.

“A very bad day, hmm? So what are you going to do about that?” Maxie aimed her question at Jake.

His smile was deliciously wicked as he said, “Why I’m going to take Emma to the weddings, of course.”

Chapter Two

Emma
glared at Jake. “That’s not funny,” she said.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Jake said. “What makes you think I’m not serious?”

“Why would you want to take me to my sister’s wedding?”

“Why not?”

“Because you hardly know me, for one thing.”

“I know you’re a kick-ass sociologist with a mom who likes Diet Coke with a slice of lime,”

Jake said.

Smiling widely, Maxie inserted herself into their conversation. “You’ll have to excuse my daughter. She’s not a pro at accepting invitations from handsome men.”

Gee, thanks, Mom. Could you make me sound any lamer?
“No, I’m not a pro at
accepting
invitations from handsome men. I’m a pro at turning them down.” A total lie but at least it made her sound like less of a loser. Only a few minutes earlier she’d assured Jake that she didn’t lie, yet here she was, bending the truth completely. Where her work was concerned, she was honest, but when push came to shove, she apparently lost that quality where her personal life was concerned.

Emma’s glare at Jake was intended to send the message that she no longer wanted to continue this line of conversation.

Being a male, he totally ignored her visual request. He clearly wasn’t about to give up the chance to have some fun at her expense and his gotcha look told her so.

Maxie looked from Emma to Jake and back again. “Uh, maybe I should leave now and let you two work things out.”