"But you do have a future..."

"Cut the shit, Rachel, you know what I mean. I can't...I don't have a future. You're my family, you and Derrick. I can't really do this again. I shattered after leaving Ashley, then again when I left Noah, and this guy..." Emery closed her eyes and ran her hand through her hair. "I think he'll ruin me."

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE.

Bewitched

Although she was exhausted after her night with Tim, Emery was restless and couldn't sleep, so she kept herself busy. She had walked down to River Street earlier, her favorite place to people watch. Sundays were the perfect day to do it. There were lots of people who were hungover, plus the after church crowd, and then tourists going from store to store looking for that perfect souvenir.

The street was cobblestone and full of bars, shops, and restaurants. She grabbed a coffee and bought a bag of pralines. As soon as she sat down on the bench that overlooked the street, an involuntary moan slipped through her lips. Emery liked to watch them make, then cook, the sweet treats in the store-the smell alone could quench her sweet tooth-but she rarely bought any. She popped another piece of the praline in her mouth, the sugary goodness melting around the pecan.

When she didn't want to think about her life, she would watch people and pick out certain individuals, the ones that looked happy, and make up her own stories for them. She would create an entire story about each person's expression. It could be that they'd just heard news about a new job, they'd just had the best sex of their lives, or they'd just gotten engaged.

Her phone dinged just as she picked the perfect person for her game. The man's face was frozen in a lopsided grin, and Emery was pretty sure it was due to the woman slightly trailing him with her hand supporting her lower back. The woman was his wife, of course, and she was pregnant with their first child. The man spent every night rubbing her feet and talking to her belly bump. It sounded perfect, something that would never happen for her. She sighed and looked at the text.

You have bewitched me, Emma. I'm having a hard time (get it? HARD) focusing on work when I just want to be inside you again.

His words were so brazen. So bold.

She shook her head. Emery knew she'd made a mistake last night; she should've left after she gave Tim his plate. She was right to run from him at the dance club. When she was around him, she wasn't quite herself and she couldn't put her finger on why. He felt like a drug she couldn't get enough of, like she wanted to smother herself in him, which was dangerous. It was a precarious situation, because she couldn't have what she wanted so desperately. Last night she felt everything; a tingle traveled up her entire body every time he touched her and even now at the memory. The burning feeling of pure desire was so intense it actually hurt. His touch alone seemed to quiet her soul. His presence seemed like a balm to her constant ache for someone to touch her, for someone to accept her and be with her. Noah didn't even set off that reaction in her. This guy was different. He'd forced his way into her life and now she needed to figure out how to walk away.

Walk away from possible happiness. Leave behind his touch, which was so different than his cocky demeanor.

Stop feeling.

She needed to stop now, because if he touched her again, she'd be too far gone. Emery ignored his text, as hard as it was, because she could feel him inside her now.

Ugh. Stop, stop, stop! She had to stop.

Placing another piece of praline in her mouth, she saw a girl, around her age, holding a guy's hand. They were talking and walking; she was animated and he was staring at her with heat in his eyes. The girl was causal, but moved with sensual ease. She was obviously comfortable with being sexual. Emery thought maybe Emma could be like that. Maybe in order to forget what she thought to be the start of something that could ruin her, she should date other men. Emery didn't do that, she tried to stay away from everyone, but it was like not drinking water. When you're parched and you finally get water, you guzzle an entire gallon and then you get sick. She was so lonely that when someone finally touched her she thought he was going to change her entire world. She thought that he would make her feel whole, like a fucking romance novel. That was impossible. Her life was definitely not a romance novel.

A buzzing noise startled her. She looked up from her Kindle and walked over to the intercom.

"Yes?"

"Emma, thank God you're okay." His voice cracked through the speaker.

Emery stepped back from the intercom, not really believing the voice she heard. After a few seconds, the buzzer sounded again.

"Emma, let me in."

Shit.

Emery opened the door and walked slowly down the stairs to find Tim standing at the door with his uniform on. Her stomach flipped in anticipation and she looked down to collect her thoughts. She began opening the door slowly, but Tim thrust it open hurriedly and pushed her back against the wall in the entrance hall. Her body sparked to life and she raised her eyes to his. He didn't wait to devour her lips, then her neck. His nose was chilly from the night air and left a trail of cold on her face where it touched.

"Emma, I-" he cut himself off by kissing her again. "We may need to go upstairs."

She laughed when she noticed the tent in the front of his black uniform pants. "Is everything okay? Did we have a date that I'm not aware of?" she asked sarcastically.

"We have a date every night," he answered, walking up the stairs and leaving her staring at him, her mouth agape.

"I-" she began.

"Come on, Emma, don't make me start without you."

She'd had a rough few weeks. The police still hadn't found Lucas or his mother and had pretty much given up looking for them. Tim had promised her he was still looking, and that he'd continue to look. Fortunately, there were another one hundred and three kids on her caseload that needed her help, so she filled her time by staying busy, all the while wondering where Lucas was and if he was okay. She called his school every day to see if he was there.

Although they had been spending as much time together as they could, Tim's schedule was the opposite of hers. The first night he had off, Tim talked her into a night out. She never went out and a distraction sounded like a great idea, so she'd agreed to go to a concert.

Tim's hand grasped hers gently as he led her through a precarious opening amongst the bodies all moving in time with the beat. She hadn't been to a concert since the one she went to with Noah. This was totally different-outdoors and country music as opposed to rock at the historically epic Ryman. Suddenly he veered left and she was pulled into what seemed like a maze of people standing, sitting, and lounging on grass. They approached a wide space mapped by a large quilt made of what looked like t-shirts.

Tim dropped her hand and left her standing on the outside of the blanket. He embraced another man who looked vaguely familiar and Emery watched as they hugged and back slapped with huge grins. She couldn't tell what they were saying, but she assumed these were Tim's friends. She turned to look at the path they had taken in case she needed to escape, but it had been swallowed up with bodies.

She felt a hand pull her backwards and she put a fake smile on her face. Tim pulled her into him and yelled into her ear. "This is Chris and his girlfriend, Katie. I've known them forever."

She smiled and waved at the couple. Katie was in a maxi dress with a cardigan and cowboy boots. She looked carefree and confident. Emery glanced down at her own long sleeves and was jealous. She wished she could be like Katie, who appeared to be without pain or fear that invaded everything.

"Emma, good to see you again," Chris yelled over the guitar solo and that's when she figured out who he was-Lucas's occupational therapist.

Tim and Katie looked at them both, questions in their eyes.

Emma leaned into Tim. "He's Lucas's therapist."

Tim nodded.

"I knew you looked familiar," Chris said, pointing at her. "You're Dance Club Girl."

"Wait...is this the green dress?" Katie stage-whispered to Chris, who nodded. Katie's mouth made an O and she smiled at Tim.

Tim grinned as if they were sharing a secret and squeezed Emery's hand. When a raspy voice began to sing again, she faced the stage still clutching Tim's hand. They were at a Brantley Gilbert concert. She'd never heard of him.

She felt Tim let go of her hand and then shivered as he pressed a cold beer to her neck. Still nervous about the crowd and meeting Tim's friends, she plastered on a fake smile and took the beer from him. The uneasiness began to dissipate when he wrapped his arms around her and Emery closed her eyes and felt his nearness; she simmered in it and could almost believe that her biggest fear vanished with him. He calmed her. It was surprising and she felt herself wanting to be with him for that purpose alone.

The concert was fun and loud. As she helped clean up their area after the music ended, she couldn't contain the smile on her lips.

"What are you smiling about?" Tim asked, bending over to pick up a few beer bottles at the edge of the blanket.

"I had fun."

"I like seeing you smile, Em." Tim leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss. She couldn't help, but want more.

"Hey, you guys want to go grab something to eat?" Chris asked, holding open the trash bag.

Emery sidestepped a pile of beer cans. "What's open this late?"

"Waffle House," the three friends cried in unison.

"I've never eaten there," she commented.

"What?" Tim asked, scandalized.

She shook her head.

"Well, this is a cultural experience everyone should try at least once," Chris resolved.

"We'll meet you guys there. The one on Abercorn?" Tim asked, taking Emery's hand possessively.

"Yeah, it won't be as busy," Chris answered as the pair walked in the opposite direction in the parking lot.

"Well, that was fun," Emery said, looking up at Tim in his baseball cap and tight sweater. It was a very good look on him and she had enjoyed his touch all night.

"Em, what do you do for fun?"

Emery's brow furrowed. "Well, I..."

"Your smile tonight is going to be something I remember forever, because I don't think I've ever seen something as exquisite. It's a cautious, upturning of your lickable lips and a hesitant exposure of your teeth. It's like you don't know how to smile with abandon."

"That was very poetic. But I smile," she said defensively.

"I'm sure you do, Emma, but I mean the sort of smile that you can't wipe off or that drops off your face when you think no one is looking."

"I-"

"I want to make you smile even when you think I'm not looking. I want you to smile every time you see me. I want you to be incapable of anything other than smiling when I'm near you."

"Tim..." she started.

"Emma." He pushed her against the side of his truck and kissed her, filling her with such a burning sensation that she broke their connection and looked away, a smile playing on her lips.

"Like that one," he whispered into her ear. He opened the door and helped her in the truck.

Emery closed her eyes and exhaled. Tim was a game changer. He wanted too much from her, made her feel too much. She bargained with herself to just enjoy him a few more times before making the break she knew was inevitable. She felt his fingertips on the inside of her thigh and her head automatically fell back at his touch.

"We don't have time for that right now, Em, but I plan on making you smile and come many times tonight." His eyes showed determination. "You may want to order coffee."

She couldn't take her eyes off his fingers as they played with the hem of her skirt. "Can we skip the Waffle House?" she asked, out of breath. His dirty mouth was so foreign to her, but she loved it.

"Nope, it's necessary. Need to fuel up."

"Oh shit," she murmured.

"Oh yeah, you're going to be calling me all sorts of names later. That's a promise." He winked.

She unconsciously closed her legs, trapping his hand. His laughter filled the truck and her face hurt from her smile, the same one she'd been wearing since the second his arms wrapped around her tonight.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.

Pretending

To: Rachel Helms

From: Romona Hicks

I don't even know who I am anymore. I've had orgasms that blew my mind. Like, seriously. Also, I've been to Waffle House and to a country music concert. The invasion of the body snatchers.

To: Romona Hicks

From: Rachel Helms