All I Want Is You, page 6
“This doesn’t seem like the type of place you’d hang out at,” said Emily. She twisted that one piece of hair around her finger, let it go, and repeated the gesture.
Phin tore his gaze from that tendril with effort. “How do you know what type of place I’d hang out at?”
“Someplace nicer.”
“Like I said, the nice places close early.”
She frowned. “Still doesn’t make sense.”
“Am I that stuffy to you?”
She blushed a little. “No, I didn’t mean that—I mean, kinda. You’re so smart, and a lawyer, and you have degrees and books and everything.”
Phin wasn’t sure where she was going, so he just waited and listened.
“You have everything. And people who have things don’t go to bars like this.”
He struggled to understand what she really meant, something he’d had to learn how to do his entire life. She thought he had everything, when he could easily take her to his tiny apartment and show her otherwise. The thought of Emily in his apartment didn’t help his pounding heartbeat, and he pushed the thought away with force.
“I don’t have everything,” he said slowly. “I’m a public defense lawyer. We hardly make millions.”
At that, she flinched, and he didn’t know why. He was speaking the truth. Why did people always flinch away from the truth?
“But you’re smart. Really smart. I know you graduated high school early.” At his surprised look, she shrugged. “I Googled you.”
He was so surprised that he couldn’t find his voice for a long moment. But then he reminded himself she’d probably Googled him to figure out who was representing her little brother in court. Nothing more, nothing less. It made objective sense, even if his emotional side wished it were for some other reason.
“Sometimes I just like to go someplace where no one looks at me, or expects anything of me. I can come to this place and disappear for a few hours,” said Phin quietly.
“I wish I could disappear sometimes, too.” Her bottom lip wobbled. “But then who will be there for Josh? Except I can’t even get enough money for his bail. I can get half, but where am I going to get another five thousand dollars?”
She looked so sad, so forlorn, that Phin wanted to cheer her up. He wasn’t surprised she couldn’t afford Josh’s bail, but hearing it out loud depressed him nonetheless. He wasn’t good at banter or jokes—that was his brother Ash’s purview. Ash could make a sobbing woman smile with a grin and a sly phrase. Even Trent was better at that than Phin. Phin just had blunt honesty.
“I want another drink. Bartender!” Emily waved at Geoff. “Yoo-hoo!”
Considering there was all of one other person at the bar, Emily didn’t need to yell. Phin stifled a laugh at the look on Geoff’s face.
“I want another beer,” said Emily decisively. “Can I get one?”
Geoff glanced at Phin, as if to ask, You looking out for this chick?
Phin nodded. He’d make sure Emily got home safely—that was something he could promise.
Emily drank half of her beer and laughed. “I feel so much better.” She gasped as she turned. “Let’s play darts!”
She grabbed Phin’s arm, and Phin followed her over to the wall as she set her drink down on a rickety table and pulled the darts from the board. She giggled when she dropped a dart. It rolled under a table, and Phin got a full view of Emily’s luscious ass as she bent down to grab it.
If Emily had been sent here to kill him, she was doing a great job of it.
Emily handed him all but one of the darts to hold. “Let’s do best out of five. You ready for this?”
She threw the dart, which bounced off the wall—nowhere near the board—and they both watched the dart roll back toward Emily’s feet.
“I’m usually good at darts,” she said. She took another dart from Phin’s hand and threw it. This time, the dart caught the very edge of the board before dropping to the ground.
This went on for the next three throws, and by the last one, Phin was biting his tongue in half to keep from laughing. Emily’s cheeks were red, her chest heaving, and he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh more than he wanted to kiss her.
“This game is rigged!” She tipped back her beer and took a long gulp before slamming it down onto the table. “The board kept moving!”
“I think that’s the beer talking,” said Phin seriously.
She shot him a look. “It’s your turn, then. Show me I’m wrong.”
Phin set his own beer down, placing all but one dart on the pool table nearby. He closed one eye. He remembered how Trent had taught Phin to play darts all those years ago. Phin was hardly an expert, but as he threw the dart, and it hit the circle right outside the bull’s-eye, he smiled.
“You just got lucky.” Emily crossed her arms. “Keep going.”
Phin ended up hitting the bull’s-eye twice, the other shots in the circle around it. When he smiled widely at Emily as he collected the darts, she huffed.
“Fine, maybe I have had too much to drink. Or maybe I lied about being good at darts.”
Phin snorted. “Then we need to fix that. Put your drink down and come here.”
Her eyes widened, but Phin had just enough to drink to ignore the voice in his head that said this was a bad idea. He didn’t give a shit if it was a bad idea.
When Emily stood in front of him, only a few inches separating their bodies, his mind’s objections disappeared.
Emily was half a head shorter than Phin, her long dark hair hanging over her shoulder, exposing the vulnerable nape of her neck. Dark hairs curled there, and Phin wanted to press a kiss right there, lick the pale skin, hear her gasp in surprise.
He gritted his teeth. If she pressed against him, she’d feel how hard he was just from her closeness. The last thing he wanted was to freak her out. For God’s sake, she’d run into this bar because of some creep. He didn’t want to be another creep for her to contend with.
“Turn sideways so your right foot is in front of you,” said Phin. “Yes, and rest your weight on it. There you go. You’ll then point your torso and arm toward the board. Now, raise your arm.” After Emily had raised her arm, Phin readjusted her grip so she held the dart with three fingers. “You don’t want to hold it too tightly. Otherwise your throw will be way off.”
Emily nodded. Her expression was so serious as she listened to his instructions that Phin couldn’t help but think of how adorable she was. Most women would be giggling and not caring about what he said. Emily, though? She wanted to learn, and he could always appreciate that in a person.
“You’ll want to aim upward slightly. Dart throwing goes along a parabolic curve,” said Phin.
“A what?”
“As opposed to a straight line. It’s like one half of a curve of a circle. Does that make sense?”
Emily nodded. God, why is she so adorable? he thought despairingly.
“Use the tip of the dart as your line of sight, which will be what you use to aim.” Phin realized that Emily’s eyes were starting to glaze over from his instructions, so he stood back and said, “Don’t move anything but your arm and wrist when you throw. Now, try it.”
Emily threw the dart, and it bounced off the board onto the floor.
Phin handed her another dart. He touched her arm, showing her the motion of throwing. As he did so, the side of his arm brushed her breast, and she stiffened. He let her arm drop, feeling like some kind of lecher.
“Try again,” he said, trying not to sound too gruff.
After a few more tries, Emily managed to hit the board instead of the wall around it. When her dart landed in the circle closest to the bulls-eye, she squealed.
“I did it! Look, I hit the dartboard!”
To Phin’s shock, Emily threw herself into his arms, hugging him like he’d given her a car for her sixteenth birthday. Nonplussed but unwilling to let this moment pass, he hugged her back. She smelled amazing, and Phin wished he could tilt her head back and kiss her right then and there.
To his surprise, she did tilt her head back to look up at him. When she licked her lips, that movement shot straight to his groin. The noise of the dive bar faded away, and every thought except Emily being in his arms fled Phin’s mind.
He cupped her cheek. Her eyes widened.
And then somebody bumped into Phin, mumbling “sorry, man” as he passed by. The moment broken, Phin let Emily go.
What the hell was he doing, almost kissing his client in some dive bar? And when she was obviously tipsy?
“I should get you home,” he said. “It’s late.”
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”
Phin told himself that Emily was silent on the ride to her apartment because she was tired, but he knew better. He almost apologized, but that would only make things worse. Because he didn’t want her to think he didn’t want her. He also didn’t want her to think he did want her.
What a mess he’d gotten himself into.
“This is it,” said Emily, pointing.
Phin parked on the street, squinting at the run-down building with trash scattered in front of it. Cats screeched nearby, while something that looked like a raccoon riffled through the bags of trash. A homeless man was curled up near the stairs to the building.
Emily lived here alone?
It’s none of your business. She’s a client.
“I’ll walk you inside,” he found himself saying.
He walked her to her door, one that was clean but worn like the rest of the complex. One of the numbers on Emily’s door was missing. Phin heard shouting in a nearby apartment, and then the sound of something breaking.
“Thank you for tonight,” said Emily. She jangled her keys, clearly agitated.
Phin put his hands in his pockets, mostly so he wouldn’t touch her again. “Of course. I’d do it the same for any woman.”
Emily’s face fell, and Phin immediately regretted his words.
“Well, good night.” Emily unlocked her door and was about to go inside when Phin stopped her.
“You can call me anytime you need me.” Why am I saying this? Suddenly, he didn’t care about the reasons why. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here?”
She blinked. “At my apartment? Yes.”
Phin wanted to offer to stay with her, to protect her, to keep her from any harm. It was a primal reaction, one he’d always considered ridiculous. But this woman turned him inside out.
He nodded stiffly. To his surprise, Emily reached out and touched his arm before clasping his hand.
“You’re a good guy, Mr. Younger. Better than any I’ve met in a long time.”
“Phin,” he said, his voice low.
“Phin, then.” Her voice was a thready whisper.
The clasp of their hands bolstered him. He moved his hand so it gripped her arm, and then she was in his arms again. She didn’t pull away, and for that, he thanked the universe.
Because he was going to kiss Emily Lassiter, and damn the consequences.
When his lips touched hers, she gasped, the sound quickly turning to a soft moan. That sound heated his blood as he kissed her. He reveled in the softness of her lips and the way she melted against him. She was all softness and light, and he wished he could keep her safe from everything in this life that could hurt her. He kissed her until she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with an ardor only matched by his own.
Someone yelled, reminding Phin of where they were. He ended the kiss with reluctance, especially as he took in Emily’s red cheeks and lips.
The yelling brought clarity to his hazy mind. What was he doing, kissing his client in the middle of the night like this? Grimacing, disgusted with himself, he set her away from him through sheer force of will.
“I’ll talk to you later.” He turned before she could even reply.
He hated doing this to her, this hot-and-cold act. But he couldn’t let this happen again. His career was on the line. Not only that, but Emily’s brother’s life was on the line, too.
If Phin’s behavior were somehow made public, Phin could be removed from the case. And then what? Would Josh get remanded to adult court because no one else wanted to touch a case that was now tainted?
I need to let her go, Phin said over and over again as he drove home. No matter how much I don’t want to.
9
That weekend, Emily showed up at Landon’s studio and posed for the nude photos. They were all tasteful, as Landon had promised, but Emily couldn’t help feeling like she’d sold herself out.
She posed behind a sheet that just barely covered her breasts. She couldn’t help but think of the modeling jobs she used to get.
She’d gotten lucky in the beginning, snagging the attention of a famous photographer who was able to get her into major magazines for a variety of fashion spreads. Emily remembered how shocked she’d been when she’d seen the luxurious couture garments hanging on the racks, wondering if she’d be thrown out the door if anyone realized who she was.
Emily had loved modeling, but that world had almost destroyed her. She’d gotten dangerously thin, to the point that she’d gotten pneumonia one winter. After that scare, she’d had to cut all ties with the industry, no matter how well it paid. It wasn’t worth killing herself.
“Good, good,” said Landon as he clicked his camera. “Look over your shoulder at me. Don’t smile, but look like you’re thinking of your lover.” He chuckled, probably thinking she’d imagine him.
But right then, Emily thought of Phin Younger and how he’d kissed her outside her apartment just a few nights ago. Her body tingled, her pupils dilating without her realizing it.
Had she really kissed her brother’s lawyer? The man who was so out of her league that it was laughable? The man she’d run into in some sleazy dive bar and who’d made sure she’d gotten home safely? Emily still couldn’t believe any of that had happened. And he’d shown her how to play darts, the hard planes of his body pressed against her, the woodsy scent of him enveloping her senses.
Then that kiss… it had consumed her. She’d never wanted it to end. Despite his suits and his books and his degrees, Phin Younger knew how to kiss a woman. But then he’d basically pushed her away afterward.
Emily was in knots over Phin despite knowing there was no way the two of them could ever work out. A fish and a bird could fall in love, but where would they live? She was practical enough not to wish for impossible things.
After the photoshoot ended, Landon showed her the photos on his camera. Emily almost didn’t recognize herself as she paged through them. She looked…sultry. Sensual. And completely unlike herself.
“Five thousand, as promised,” said Landon as he handed her a check. “Don’t spend it all in one place.” He winked, and Emily rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten what a cheeseball her ex-boyfriend could be.
But the five thousand in her hand still wasn’t enough to get Josh out of that detention center. Where would she get the other half? Her heart fell as she took the bus to work later that evening after depositing Landon’s check in her very empty bank account.
Should she do another photoshoot? But who did she know who could book her work immediately? She hadn’t spoken with any of her modeling contacts since she’d quit. And her agent had been so pissed at her for throwing everything away, he’d basically blackballed her from the industry.
Emily could barely concentrate at work that night, she was so distracted thinking about coming up with a way to get that second five thousand. She almost dumped a soda in one customer’s lap, while another complained that she’d forgotten to include his order of onion rings.
Lawrence took Emily aside during her break to ask, “You all right, kid?” Lawrence knew about Josh’s legal troubles, although Emily hadn’t told him the extent of it.
She gave him a wobbly smile. “No, but I’ll survive.”
Lawrence sighed. “And that’s it? Just surviving? That’s no way to live life.”
She almost considered asking Lawrence for a loan, but she knew this diner of his wasn’t exactly making him rich, either. And he had his own family to care for. Besides, Emily had too much pride to beg for charity from her boss.
“I’m just in a rough spot right now,” she said, “but I’ll get through it. Both me and Josh. Things can only get better, right?”
Lawrence looked skeptical, but he was smart enough not to say it aloud.
The next morning, Emily had almost decided to call Landon to book another gig. She didn’t know if he’d even say yes, but she didn’t know what else to do.
As she sipped her lukewarm coffee, staring at the beige wall of her living room, she checked her email. An email from someone she didn’t know was at the top, and when Emily opened it her, her eyes widened with shock.
My name is Violet Fielding, and I own a jewelry business. I got your number from a modeling agency, and I wanted to inquire about your rates and availability. Based on my discussion with my photographer, we would pay you upward of $5000 for your time.
Please let me know if you’re interested. Phone or email is fine.
Emily almost dropped her cup of coffee onto the floor. What kind of serendipitous angel had sent her this email? It was too good to be true. It had to be spam. And what modeling agency? Emily hadn’t been an official model for a few years now. Then again, she could still be on someone’s books that this Violet had found her.
Emily dialed the number Violet had provided in the email, expecting to get some robo-message about a payday loan, but to Emily’s surprise, a real woman picked up. A woman who owned a flourishing jewelry business in Washington and who needed a model.
When Emily put her phone down, the gig booked, she started laughing. Because now she could get Josh out of the detention center, and maybe, just maybe, keep him out of jail for good.
Emily glanced at the address in her email and looked up at the building in question. Violet had asked Emily to do the photoshoot in Seattle, and when Emily had admitted she couldn’t afford to travel that far, Violet had paid for her train ride without asking questions.
