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CHAPTER EIGHT

Kelton

She’s beautiful, laughing, as she wipes at the tears rolling along her cheeks. She is finding humor in my awkward moments and I love it.

I’m just about to open my mouth and say something I shouldn’t when Alizabeth comes back out of the back door interrupting the moment.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, stepping out into the enclosed patio area.

Emerson straightens up, wipes at her cheeks and does her best to pull herself together. “Oh not much, Kelton was just telling me all about his run-in with oil body spray and a lovely man named Eduardo.” She bites her lip, her nostrils flaring as she does her best to keep a straight face.

“This I’ve got to hear.” Liz smiles, taking a step closer, placing her hands on her hips.

“Later.” I wave her off. “First, tell me how deep you buried me today.”

“Oh please.” She scoffs. “You can buy this house with your endorsements from Calvin Klein. By the way I could have gone without see you in a tight pair of red boxers.” She shivers and makes an ugh sound.

I look over to see Emerson bite her lip and she meets my gaze.

Her eyes widen. I smirk, because I know already she doesn’t feel the same.

“They accepted the offer for half of the list cost,” my sister regains my focus.

“Now I know you’re full of shit.”

“Yeah, true.” She shrugs. “But I did talk them down fifty-two thousand. There will be a few things you’ll need to change I am sure to make it all work for you here but nothing major and they need to sell.”

I look over her shoulder to see poor Joey walking around the kitchen, running his hand through his hair while on the phone.

“Right now the current owners are paying two mortgages so they’re eager. I better have my own room for the hard work I put into this deal.” She gives me a look that screams ‘I dare you to challenge that demand.’

I don’t.

“You just need to sign the offer paperwork, give him a check and wahlah.”

“Wahlah?” I chuckle.

“Yes.” She widens her eyes, giving her head a little shake. “You can do a quick sale, close in a couple weeks and boom, you’ve got your place. Goodbye blah apartment with stark white walls and floors. Hello colorful life with beautiful woodwork and charm.”

She might as well have followed that up with a duh.

I glance over at Emerson who is covering her smile by pressing her fingers to her lips. The problem is the corners are tipped up giving away her secrets.

“My work is done. Now I need food and I was promised a concert.” With that Alizabeth walks off and again it’s only Emerson and me.

“Do you know she talked our landlord down seventy-five dollars a month on our rent?” She walks a little closer and I know she’s telling me a story, but all I can focus on is the movement of her lips.

I’ve been with other women since I arrived in Tennessee.

I’ve dated, I’ve messed around, but there is always that reservation.

The need to hold back and remain on guard, because there is almost always an ulterior motive.

When you are a pro ballplayer, or anyone really in the spotlight, there is always someone trying to take it away from you.

Women will go to the extreme to get just a bite of what you have.

But this is Emerson.

She’s a piece of home I know without a doubt I can trust wholeheartedly.

“So in the end, he agreed and if you ask my option it’s because he actually was intimidated by her.”

I realize I was so lost in thought that I missed the story. Emerson is smiling as she watches me. When she realizes that I have no reaction, her smile slowly fades.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this unnerved. I’m generally a put-together kind of guy. I don’t break easily but Emerson gives me a sense of security I didn’t realize until now I’ve been missing.

I’m also not an act now and think about it later type, but that all goes out the window when she reaches out and places her hand on my forearm.

Suddenly I am stepping forward, cupping her face and moving in.

My mouth sealing with hers, she does a quick intake of breath and I swallow her moan, taking it as an opportunity to drag my tongue along hers.

She tastes better than I remember. Cherry maybe, all I know is that it’s my new favorite flavor.

Placing one hand to her back I hold her close. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry,” I confess. Smiling with my lips pressed to hers one last time, I release her and step back just as Joey steps outside and joins us.

“I have this offer drawn up,” he says and I notice Emerson puts her hand to her lips and lightly touches them as she looks down. My thoughts race.

“I just need you to sign here.” He points and I pick up the pen, still watching her and trying to read her mood.

When she disappears and I am left alone with Joey, I sign the papers with what feels like a knot in my throat.