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No matter how much I want it to.
Her gaze clears, searching my face, and whatever she sees makes her slide across the seat over to her side of the car, grabbing her purse. She opens the door and exits without a word, her pace hurried as she treks up the path to her house, disappearing behind her front door.
I reach for the handle to follow her, to explain, but what would I even say?
The car moves again, heading into traffic before I can decide what to do, and I don’t bother putting down the darkened privacy glass to tell Allen otherwise. It’s better to put some distance between me and Emma. Give us some time to reflect and rationally talk about it tomorrow.
I just hope to God I didn’t fuck everything up.
Chapter Fifteen
Emma
Ishut the front door behind me, touching a hand to my lips as soon as Connor’s not sure to see, reliving the way his mouth had moved under mine. Was it a mistake to kiss him like that? What was that look in his eye exactly as he’d pulled away from me? I’d been too afraid to ask, taking my leave instead of talking to him.
But I still can’t completely regret it. The feel of him against me, the tips of my breasts brushing lightly against his chest, had been exhilarating. The zing that had raced through me, every bit of me alive.
“Was that Bishop’s car that dropped you off?”
I startle, my stomach dropping as I whip around, not recognizing Dad’s voice at first until I spy him in the armchair. What’s he doing here? Has it been a week already? And why does he keep showing up unannounced? “Um, yes,” I reply when I realize he’s waiting for an answer.
“So you’re making some kind of progress with him?” He drums his fingers on the arm of the chair, his tone neutral, but there’s no way it’s just a casual question.
I’m silent, hating how mercenary he makes it sound.
“Have you asked him about buying my company?”
“Yes,” I admit, knowing it’s the lesser of two evils to tell him that. If I say I haven’t brought it up at all, he might fly off the handle like last time.
“And?” He goes still, awaiting my answer.
“He, um…” I swallow, deciding not to mention Connor calling him shady. “He said it wasn’t my job to worry about things like that.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “You need to make it your job.”
“I know, I—” My fingers clench the sides of my skirt, mind racing to come up with an excuse to placate him. “I’m working on trying it from a different angle.”
“How?”
I glance around, searching for Mom, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding in her room. “Gaining his trust.”
“How far have you got?” he asks in that same dispassionate tone. This should not be a normal conversation between a father and daughter. But then again, we’ve never had a normal relationship.
I shrug. “Far?” How do you judge these things?
His gaze narrows.
“We kissed tonight,” I add. “Just now.” An icky sensation washes over me, confessing that. That kiss wasn’t because I was trying to manipulate him. It’s because I wanted to do it. Because I… like him. The way he comforted me last night right there on that couch, letting me cry on his shirt. The way he’s encouraged me to make my dream business a reality. The way he’s opened himself to me, trusting me with his secrets. How can I break that trust?
And then tonight, finding out this attraction on my part isn’t one sided. Has he felt like that the whole time? Or was it a recent development?
Dad studies me, and I self-consciously run a hand over my hair. Is it tousled from when Connor briefly cupped my head, sifting his fingers through the strands? Are my lips swollen? Cheeks flushed? Can he see what Connor did to me?
“You better pick up the pace. I’m running out of time.”
“Time for what?” To whoever he owes money to?
“I’m cutting off the utilities here at the end of the week,” he says, not answering my question. “You’ll need to set something up to pay for it. Insurance is after that.”