Page 28 of Someone to Call My Own

“Or there’s more to it,” Emory said absently.

I sat quietly while he mentally checked out of our conversation again. I used the time to catalog everything about him and store it in my memory because I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I saw him again. I loved the vibrancy of his eyes and the way his bottom lip was slightly fuller than his top one. I found myself staring at the tiny little indentations his teeth left behind in the plump flesh from biting it a moment earlier. I wanted to lick that bottom lip and feel the grooves with my tongue.

Emory cleared his throat to get my attention, and I realized he caught me staring at his mouth. Did he know what I was thinking or did he suspect my thoughts were far dirtier than tracing his lips with my tongue? Fantasizing about those lips wrapped around my cock would’ve been next. I noticed the familiar way he pressed his hand over his heart. He’d done the same thing the last time I was in his house, and I recognized it as either a sign of distress or comfort. His expression gave nothing away.

“Do your friends always call you early on Sunday morning?” That was the absolute last thing I expected him to say.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “As a matter of fact, Sunday mornings are a great day for me to catch up with Beau and Corbin. And before you ask, Corbin is my other best friend. The three of us make one hell of a trio, but it’s never been sexual between us, Emory. I love these men like family, and I’d lay down my life for them. Hell, I’d nearly done that many times in battle just as they had for me. They’re my brothers in arms and two of the finest men I’ve ever had the privilege to know.” I paused to breathe. I needed to stop the temper I felt boiling beneath the surface from rising to the top and spilling over. It would ruin whatever tenuous truce we’d made in the past. I realized that the only way to accomplish that goal was to leave. Too bad it wasn’t working.

“Maybe you don’t care that they had my back and pulled my ass out of the fire, but it means a hell of a lot to me, Emory. You probably wish they weren’t so damn good at their jobs a few years back when we were outmanned and outgunned. It would make things a lot easier for you, wouldn’t it?”

Emory loudly sucked in a stunned breath. “How can you say that to me?”

“You know what? Forget I ever came here, Emory. While you’re at it, try and forget I exist because I’m going to do my damnedest to forget about you.” I rose from the couch and headed to the door.

“Jon, wait!”

I ignored his request and walked away without looking back. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been so fucking furious at someone. I was halfway home before I realized that I wasn’t angry at Emory; I was mad at myself. Emory told me that he couldn’t give me what I wanted. And instead of moving on with my life, I hovered in a holding pattern like a plane circling an airport waiting for permission from the flight tower to land. Emory was never going to give me the go-ahead so it was time to find a new airport that would welcome my approach.Damn, what the fuck was with my lame-ass analogies?

It had been a while since I’d had sex with a real person and not just a fantasy version of Emory while I jerked off. I ignored the subtle hints Alexander had thrown my way at the bar and ignored every bit of flirtation from hot, horny men who obviously wanted me. Why? Emory was honest with me from the very start. He. Did. Not. Want. Me. Maybe his visions weren’t of things to come but things his body felt deprived of and filled in the blanks. Yes, that was what I needed to keep telling myself, so I could stop jerking off to what could be and start fucking men who were both physically and emotionally willing.

I went home and worked out my frustrations on the elliptical machine and free weights. I thought I had my shit together until I got to the bar. Alexander sauntered into my office wearing painted-on jeans, and I lost my shit. I knew it was a mistake when I rose swiftly from my desk and went to him. He backed up in alarm at first but then wickedly smiled when he realized it was lust, not anger, etched on my face. He continued to back up, but only to lock the door so we wouldn’t be disturbed.

It was a fast, furious fuck that left my body satiated but tore my heart to shreds. The combined feeling of guilt for betraying Emory and shame for taking advantage of my employee sent me home without a word to anyone. I didn’t even stick around to shower because I wanted to get away from the scene of my disgrace as fast as I could.

Even if Emory wanted me, I didn’t deserve a guy like him. Sleep eluded me most of the night, and when I did crash, dreams of a heartbroken Emory invaded my sleep like unwelcomed insurgents. At first, I tried to comfort him over the loss of his husband then I realized thatIwas the one who made him cry. That was an unforgivable crime.

The best description for my mood the next morning was somber. My heart was as heavy as the morning of Nate’s funeral, and I realized that I buried my dreams the night before when I buried my dick inside another man. Crude? Yes, but true. I let my pride ruin something great before it even started because I had known that something special would happen between Emory and me.

My dark mood only got heavier when Beau texted me and let me know that Emory had contacted him to say that he was heading to Big Timber to see if he could help him.

“Fuck! What have I done?”

The day after Jon left my house, I walked across the street to say goodbye to Josh and promise that I would be back in time for his wedding on Saturday. Josh, Mere, and Chaz screamed when I knocked on the back door of the salon.

“Josh, you guys okay in there?” I yelled through the door. Josh immediately opened it and let me in. Meredith was giving Chaz an ass chewing when I walked inside the kitchenette. “Is this a bad time?” I asked, looking over at my friends.

“Meredith is ripping into Chaz for misbehaving; same speech, different ear,” Josh told me. “What’s going on? You sound upset.”

“I have some bad news, I’m afraid,” I said.

“Oh my God! What is it? Did you have a vision? Is Gabe in danger?” He fired one question after the other at me. I felt terrible about causing him a moment’s panic. The news that Gabe’s ex-partner was on the run from the police to avoid a murder indictment had to be stressful for him. It didn’t help that the Marshals Service suspected that Jimmy De Soto was heading to Ohio to take out Gabe in the act of vengeance for what he perceived as Gabe destroying his life. No wonder Josh and the gang were jumpy.

I placed my hands firmly on Josh’s shoulders, hoping the weight of my hands would calm him like Jon had done for me in my kitchen when I had a panic attack. “No, Josh. My visit has nothing to do with Gabe or the vision. I came over to tell you that I’ll be leaving town for a few days, but I’ll be back in time for your wedding.”

Josh’s eyes searched my face for signs, and I knew exactly what he saw. The dark circles from lack of sleep stood out against my unnaturally pale face. “Is everything okay?” Josh asked me.

“No, not really,” I admitted, “but I’m going to see if I can change that. I plan on returning Friday in case you need my help before your big day.” I pulled Josh to me for a hug and whispered, “You’ve been a great friend to me, Josh. You can’t possibly know how much that means to me.”

My words sounded like a goodbye. I could see how concerned Josh was for me, and I was once again grateful to River for sending me to his neighborhood. I wasn’t crazy about all the things that had happened since my arrival orallthe people I’d met, but it was an experience I wouldn’t change. An image of Jon Silver storming out of my house in hurt or anger, I couldn’t be sure, popped up in my mind to mock me. I just shoved it aside before I lost my nerve.

It had taken courage for him to show up at my house and ask me for help. I’d given him no reason to believe I’d lend him air if he were stuck in a jar. Still, he drove an hour to my house in an effort to help his friend. I couldn’t get past the jealousy that unfurled in my gut every time he said the other man’s name. Why? I. Did. Not. Want. Jon! Regardless, I behaved out of character for me and pushed Jon to his snapping point. I refused to think about how badly it hurt when Jon said he was going to do his damnedest to forget about me, or the reasons why. I couldn’t allow Jon to mean anything to me, not even as a means to scratch the itch that had burrowed beneath my skin.

“Running won’t change anything, Emory. Sometimes we must accept that fate—or a higher power—knows what’s best for us when we aren’t smart enough or brave enough to see it for ourselves. Sometimes you just need to have a little faith.”

I nodded subtly and offered a small, uncertain smile before I left without another word. I drove to the airport where I parked my car in the long-term parking garage and boarded a jet to Bozeman, Montana. Once there, I transferred to a smaller plane that flew straight into Big Timber Airport. I had learned that there were a lot of fly fishing, whitewater rafting, and dude ranch adventures in the vicinity which made the airport a great thing for their local commerce.

The first thing that stood out in my mind when I walked out of the small airport was how crisp and fresh the fall air was in the mountains. I noticed the resplendent shades of yellow, orange, and red leaves on the trees as we descended. In Ohio, things were still green. The second thing I noticed was the breathtaking views of the mountains. What must it be like to look at that view every single day? Did people take it for granted after seeing it their entire lives? I didn’t think I could ever get tired of seeing the majestic mountains. The final thing I noticed was the tall, imposing figure waiting for me by his big SUV with the sheriff’s logo emblazoned on the side. It was quite telling about my current state of mind that I noticed the air, trees, and mountains before I noticed a sexy man wearing tight blue jeans, a pressed beige shirt with a star-shaped badge pinned to his chest, a Stetson hat, and aviator glasses. Hollywood couldn’t have cast a sexier sheriff if they’d tried,