Page 69 of Breaking Emily's Rules
“Of course you will, you party pooper.” She stuck her feet up on the dashboard.
He pulled out of the parking lot. “What the hell is going on with you, anyway? Riding the bull when you have trouble walking and chewing gum?”
“I’m trying something new.”
But she didn’t fool him. There was sadness in those eyes that he hadn’t seen there before. She definitely wasn’t telling him something. He’d bet it had to do with the ex-fiancé, and if it had to do with that idiot, Stone wasn’t sure he wanted to hear about it anyway.
Emily popped on the radio, changing his preprogrammed stations until she got to the country channel. “Oh, I love this song!”
She proceeded to sing off-key to “You Should Have Kissed Me” and pointed a finger in his direction every time the song hit the refrain. He didn’t like country music when it was sung in tune, let alone Emily’s rendition. Hopefully she sang better when she was sober or he was fairly certain it wasn’t stage fright that had ended her country music career.
Finally he reached her ranch, pulled up near the loft and came around to open the door for her.
“Thanks for my ride, sailor. I’ll take it from here.”
“You don’t have any shoes.” He stared at her feet.
“What happened to my shoes?” She wiggled one foot.
“I forgot to get those for you.”
“That’s what happens when you hurry. You forget things. Let that be a lesson to you.”
“Sue me. I wanted to get you out of there before you tried to do that again.” He pulled her up out of the seat and walked up the stairs to her loft.
“I can walk barefoot. I was raised on a ranch.” But she smiled at him, batting her eyelashes. “You want to come in?”
He did, and he didn’t. Coming inside meant it would be open season on teasing him, he had a good feeling. And he wasn’t even going to kiss a tipsy Emily, much less make love to her.
He set her down just outside her front door. “It’s dark. Thought I couldn’t.”
“Oh, I did away with all those old rules!” She opened the front door. “I have a new set. You coming?”
Not likely, Stone thought. Still, he strode inside and shut the door. He took another glance at his surroundings. Cozy. Girly to the core. And yes, there was the bed in the same small room. Why he chose to torture himself this way he’d never know. He should turn around and walk out of there right now. He should say good-night, sleep tight and see ya tomorrow.
But he couldn’t do any of those things because he was a glutton for punishment, Emily-style. Besides, Dad’s house was beginning to feel like one never-ending project. He’d start to paint a wall and discover a hole behind a picture frame that needed to be repaired first. Every project led to another one, and every corner of the house reminded him of Dad.
At the same time, Stone refused to believe he had problems. He realized what real world problems were, and fixing up an outdated and cluttered house for sale was not one of them. Neither was dealing with a pissed-off family member. These were minuscule baby problems.
On the other hand. Emily.
She was a bit of a problem for him. He’d started to understand that the pull she had on him was a little different. Of course, there was the unbridled lust she brought out of him, but there was something else, too. Something he couldn’t quite quantify or figure out. He liked her. That much was clear. A whole hell of a lot. She made him laugh. Helped him to forget for a little while.
“I’ll be right back,” she said now, taking off behind the closed door he assumed was the bathroom.
Great. He could only hope she didn’t come out of there with fewer clothes on than when she went in, or all bets were off. He was a human being, and no saint. While he waited, he grabbed a seat next to a stuffed animal. He reached to move it and the thing squeaked and moved. It was not stuffed. Not at all.
Emily swung the door open and came out, fully clothed, though, it didn’t help much. The thin pajama pants hugged her bottom and the tank top stretched across her bosom.
“You met Pookie?”
“Pookie? Does he usually stalk unsuspecting men? Sit still and pretend to be stuffed?”
“You thoughtshewas a stuffed animal?” She picked up the ball of fur, and the dog licked her face. “Pookie used to sleep outside with the other dogs, but she’s gotten too old. She doesn’t even move much these days, poor baby. Too much effort. I’m letting her inside with me from now on.”
“I think she appreciates it.”
Emily carried the dog like a football in one hand and went toward the fridge. “You want something to drink?”
