and it felt good. Especially when Wayne looked away first. She spun away towards Jake, finding an oddly reassuring comfort in his presence. ‘And sometimes I just want to live my own life and to hell with everything and everyone.’
‘So start now, Em,’ he said, his voice gentle yet firm. ‘Change your life. Do what you want for a change.’
She stared into those dark eyes holding hers. What did she want?
All she saw was Jake.
Every rational thought flew away. Every drop of sense drained out of her as she stepped nearer to him, her eyes only leaving his to drift to his mouth.
What I want …
Before she could warn herself that this was a Really Bad Idea, she launched forward, cupped his jaw between her hands and plastered her lips to his.
Her heart gave a single hard jolt, and a little voice whispered, This is what I’ve been waiting for. The sizzle zapped all the way to her toes and back again before frustration and fury liquefied into heat and hunger. She flung herself into the moment, indulging her senses. The warmth of his mouth against hers was a counterfoil for his cool, refreshing scent—like moss on a pristine forest floor.
Caught off guard, Jake rocked back on his heels before steadying himself, and her, his hands finding purchase on the smooth slope of her hips as he kissed her back.
Emma. Her taste—new and unforgettably sweet. The fragrance of soap and shampoo and woman all wrapped up in the texture of skin-warmed silk beneath his fingers.
She was a rising tornado of emotion and needs, and it whipped around the edges of his own darker desires. The word complication lurked somewhere at the back of his mind. He shrugged it away and instead, sliding his palms around to her back, hauled her closer and settled in to savour more of the exquisite sensations battering him.
‘Ohh …’ The sound was exhaled on a strangled gasp as firm hands pushed at his chest. She jerked out of his hold, eyes wide. ‘I didn’t … That was …’
‘Nice,’ he finished for her. His hormone-ravished body protested the gross understatement even as he knew she was just using him to get back at the drivelling idiot probably still watching the performance from the other side of the street.
As quickly as it had blown in the whirlwind subsided leaving only a tantalising whisper as she stared up at him, rolled her lips between her teeth and said, ‘I don’t know why I … did that.’
‘You were upset. I was here.’ Enjoying the way her eyes reflected her conflict, he couldn’t help but grin. ‘Have to tell you it wins hands down over the punch you threatened to dole out earlier.’
‘I … need to see if Mum’s ready to go home.’
‘Emma.’ He lifted a hand, dropped it when she edged farther away. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. It was just a kiss. And I’m sure Wayne got the message.’
She flinched as if he’d hit her. ‘He wasn’t the … He wasn’t look—I was … Oh, forget it.’
And in the light filtering through from the restaurant he glimpsed twin spots of colour flag her cheeks before she whirled around and made a dash to the door.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he leaned a hip against the railing while he waited for his body’s horny reaction to subside. You kiss me like that, honey, I ain’t gonna forget.
It was too bad she’d come to her senses so quickly. He didn’t mind being used when it came in the form of a beautiful woman in distress—particularly when the woman had seemed oblivious that she had, in fact, used him. He looked down at the street. No sign of the scumbag.
He could still smell Emma; the fresh, untainted fragrance lingered in the air, on his clothes. The flavour of that one luscious kiss still danced on his tastebuds. The surprise of it—of her—like the first green sprout emerging from the carnage of a bushfire, still vibrated along his bones. She’d reacted without thinking for a hot and heavy moment there, and he’d enjoyed every second.
So had she.
And he wasn’t going to let her forget either. Her weekly love-in arrangement proved she did casual. And she expected honesty from her lover. They had something in common on both counts.
He watched her walk towards a group who were preparing to leave and smiled to himself. The upcoming wedding weekend was looking better and better.
Emma gulped in a calming breath, drew herself tall, and walked unsteadily towards her table, trying not to remember she’d just kissed Jake Carmody senseless. Correction: she was the one who was senseless. The dinner left-overs had been cleared away. Only a rumpled and food stained red tablecloth remained. And a few curious faces were aimed her way.
‘Emma …’ Stella trailed off, her gaze sliding over Emma’s shoulder.
The back of Emma’s neck warmed. Her cheeks scorched. ‘Um … sorry.’ Was it possible to speak more than one word at a time? She waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Needed some air.’
‘We were starting to wonder whether you two had slipped away without—’
‘Jake and I were just catching up.’ She collected her purse. ‘Mum, are you ready to leave? I’ve got some work to do before I go to bed.’ She didn’t wait for an answer, moving around the table saying her goodnights.
‘Can I get a lift with you?’ Stella reached for her own bag. ‘Ryan’s taking his parents home, and I want a couple of early nights this week.’
‘Sure.’ Emma steered clear of Jake, muttering a quick goodnight without looking at him, and from a safe distance on the other side of the table, then headed for the stairs.
‘You okay, Em?’ Stella asked beside her as they drove home. ‘You’re awfully quiet.’
‘Wayne came into the restaurant while we were there,’ she said, her voice tightening. ‘With his fiancée.’
‘Oh. Oh, Em. I’m sorry. You guys split up—what?—only a month ago?’
‘What did you expect?’ her mother piped up from the back seat. ‘If you mixed with the right people like your sister, instead of hiding away in that studio night after night, y—’
‘I’m not hiding.’ Emma sighed inwardly. Stella had nursed their mother, then fallen in love with a wealthy man; in Bernice Byrne’s eyes her younger daughter could do no wrong. ‘I enjoy what I do, Mum.’
‘Like you enjoyed cleaning other people’s toilets and stocking supermarket shelves after school too, I remember. Just another excuse not to meet people.’
Emma pressed her lips together to stop the angry words from rushing out. Yeah, Mum? Where would we be if I hadn’t? In a rented bedsit on the wrong side of town. Not in Gran’s home, that’s for sure.
‘Mum, that’s not fair.’ Stella spoke sharply.
‘It’s not, Stella. But then, life’s not always fair—right, Mum?’ Emma glanced at her mother in the rearview mirror. ‘And sometimes it makes us
