Page 54 of Someone to Call My Own
I hadn’t told Emory about my past membership at Voodoo and wasn’t sure when, or if, I would. Did it matter? Would it change how he saw me? I had just found him and was afraid to find out. Besides, that part of my past felt like a different lifetime. As cheesy as it sounded, I fell in love with Emory and became a changed man. Sure, I was more than willing to get kinky with Emory if he was up to that sort of thing, but other past activities were off limits. There was no fucking way in hell I’d ever have sex with Emory in the middle of a room with people watching, cheering us on, or masturbating in rhythm to my thrusts inside him. Nor would I share him with anyone else. No. Fucking. Way. I’d snap the neck of anyone who even attempted to put their hands on my man.
“Where’d you go just now?” Emory asked hesitantly.
“I dragged my knuckles back to my cave,” I replied. I knew that answer made zero sense to him. Emory narrowed his eyes like he was trying to peer inside my brain. I gathered him close and kissed him as a distraction. It wasn’t a little peck on the lips either; I’m talking a full-on passionate kiss in broad daylight in the middle of the sidewalk. I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, and I dared them to flap their gums in my direction. I’d never get my fill of Emory, but it was enough to tide me over. I rested my forehead against his and said, “You don’t want to look inside my brain, baby. There are dark places that I’d never want you to witness.”
“Huh?” The confusion on his face was adorable. He’d forgotten what we were discussing before our kiss. I wasn’t about to remind him that my brain had taken a trip back in time.
“What about the fourth window front?” I asked, trying to steer our conversation back to safer topics.
“Um…” Emory blinked a few seconds before he could answer. “Memphis is going to rent it for his comic book store. I’ve never seen him as excited about anything as he is now, Jon.”
“It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing for him,” I said. I also thought it was cool that Memphis could shove male pride out of the way and accept Emory’s help.
“I probably owe my life to Memphis,” Emory said soberly. “If not for him, I might not be standing here with you right now.”
“You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Em.” It wouldn’t matter how much someone else wanted Emory to live if he’d truly given up. It was easier to give credit to Memphis or even visions of River than it was to accept that, even during his darkest hours, he wanted to live. That was something Emory would need to learn for himself though. Our mood had turned heavy suddenly, and I was eager to get it back to the lighthearted tone we’d had before my brain took a detour and distracted us both. I tugged on Emory’s hand to get us moving forward again. “When will Memphis open his store?”
“I believe Beefcake Andy is starting renovations today so hopefully soon.”Beefcake Andy?Emory laughed when he saw the brooding scowl on my face. “That’s what Kyle calls him. Apparently, Andy hit on Chaz a time or two and Kyle isn’t a fan.” Emory squeezed my hand reassuringly then added, “Memphis is working part time for Maegan and Milo, either at Books and Brew or Curious Things, so we could see him there if he’s not at his store going over renovations with Andy.”
It amazed me how quickly Memphis fit in with everyone in our new social circle. He seemed like a completely different person than the one who showed up a few days before Emory’s surgery. He smiled more and laughed often. My lips quirked up in a half-smile when I realized I had also described myself. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that my scars would all miraculously heal because I’d found Em, but he made it easier to accept the things that I couldn’t change and focus on the gifts in front of me—life and the promise of an amazing love.Jesus! Maybe I could start writing cards for Hallmark on the side.
“You’ll have to tell me what’s making you smile like that.” Emory grinned from ear to ear like perhaps he already knew.
“I was just laughing at how sappy I’ve become.”
“You aren’t sappy,” Emory said. “That’s sappy!” He pointed to where John Dorchester was obviously wooing his wife outside the coffee shop. Deanna waited beneath the black and tan striped awning for John to reach her. It looked like they had driven separately and were meeting for coffee and a pastry. John whipped a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and presented them to Deanna, who smiled happily at her husband.
“You don’t think that’s sweet?” I asked. Hell, even I thought it was fucking adorable.
“It’s precious,” Emory admitted. “I wonder what he did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Most guys buy flowers when they’re in the doghouse.” Emory sounded like it was a matter of fact, not his opinion.
“Is that right?”
“Just my personal observation,” he said. I thought it sounded more like personal experience than a mere observation. If so, I would have to change his opinion over time.
“Hey, guys,” Deanna said when we walked up to them. “How’s it going?”
“We’re doing great,” Emory said. Then an ornery grin split his face. “What did John do this time?”
Deanna threw her head back and laughed throatily at Emory’s question.
“It’s our anniversary, asshole,” John said. He wasn’t one to tiptoe around anyone, and I liked that about him.
“Ohhh, so it’s your annual apology then,” Emory commented, nodding as if he understood.
“You’ve been hanging around Gabe too long,” John told him with mock indignation. “I’m a fabulous husband.”
“Yeah, and men who brag about their sexual prowess usually don’t have any,” Deanna remarked.
John glared at his wife. “What exactly are you implying here, darling?”
“Oh! I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I just meant that people aren’t always the best judges when it comes to themselves. Youarea fabulous husband.” She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, but he placed his hand on her lips to block her.
“Your sweet lips won’t get you out of this one,” John said huffily. His twitching lip was making it hard to believe his act.