The Emi Lost & Found Series

  Clara listens to Jack’s soothing voice as he reads, but she soon falls asleep, the long day finally catching up to her. I watch Jack, admiring how good he is with the children. And it’s clear that they adore him. He looks up from the book and makes eye contact with me, my heart jumping a bit when he winks at me, not skipping a beat with the words since he likely has this book memorized.

  The doorbell rings, waking my niece.

  “I’ll get it,” Kelly says, walking across the room to the door. She invites my sister in, and I’m relieved that she’s wearing a coat over her revealing costume. Clara hops up to greet her mom and I wave to her.

  “Did you have fun?” I ask.

  “Sure,” she says. “I think I’ll see him again.” I nod. “Jack, your house is incredible,” she comments, looking around the living room into the open kitchen space.

  “Would you like a tour?” he asks.

  “I’ll take her,” I volunteer. He agrees and continues reading. I show her the remaining rooms on the main floor, then take her downstairs to the basement. Jen picks Clara up and shields her eyes from the movie on the large television, recognizing the classic horror movie from our childhood years– and remembering the nightmares I used to have after seeing it. She makes a comment about the kids rooms, noticing all the toys and how nice it must be to have an uncle like Jack.

  When I come back up the stairs, I ask him if it’s okay to show her the top floor, his bedroom.

  “Sure, it’s fine,” he says. We go up to the top level, and I can tell my sister is very impressed with the room.

  “Okay, this is gorgeous,” she says, taking a seat on his bed and bouncing lightly, “and comfy.” She smiles, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “I wouldn’t know,” I tell her as I roll my eyes at her.

  “You’re telling me, all this time you two–”

  “No!” I say, blushing.

  “Nothing?”

  “No... I’m not... I don’t know.”

  “Emi,” my sister looks at me in disbelief, “has he kissed you again?”

  “Ewww...” Clara interjects.

  I shake my head. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

  Her eyes widen as her jaw drops. Eventually, she stands up off the bed and walks away from me to the bathroom. I follow her curiously, until she abruptly turns around to face me.

  “Emi, remember our conversation about all the good guys being taken?”

  “Yeah...”

  “Well one of them is downstairs, waiting for you... and I swear, if you don’t do something soon, some other girl is gonna come along–”

  “Alright, stop it,” I discourage her. “This is my business, and we’re not discussing it. Come on, let’s go back downstairs,” I suggest, suddenly uncomfortable with my sister being in his private space. Jen huffs, obviously annoyed, but follows me downstairs.

  By the time we get to the main level, Kelly and Thomas are gathering up all of the kids and their things, saying goodbye to Jack. Kelly gives me a hug goodbye, saying she hopes to see me again soon.

  “Well, I just hope there’s a reason we’re leaving you two alone,” Jen whispers to me, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “He won’t wait forever.”

  “Goodnight, Jen,” I whisper back. Jen and Clara hug both Jack and I before descending down the steps to her car. Jack follows me back into his home, closing the door softly behind him, slowly locking both deadbolts. I’m suddenly nervous to be alone with him. It feels very different than it did the last time I was here with him, on our first date. So many things have changed since then. It seems as if many walls have been torn down, as if most of our secrets have been exposed, and accepted.

  “Wanna watch a scary movie?” he suggests.

  “Horror movies really freak me out,” I tell him. Anxious to have a reason to curl up tightly in his arms, I answer, “Let’s go.” He smiles and takes my hand, leading me first to the kitchen to grab some wine, and then taking me downstairs to the home theatre. I take off my jacket, wanting to be more comfortable.

  “You’re going to be cold,” he tells me, noticing my thin camisole, smiling. As I start to put my arm back in my jacket, he stops me and takes it from me. “I’ll keep you warm.” He grabs a blanket, and instead of sitting on the couch, we take our place on two reclining movie-house chairs, joined together. We recline back, and he puts his arm around me.

  When the movie begins, we both predict what’s going to happen, the story line obvious, following the plot of all other horror movies before it. We add our own silly dialogue, laughing together, until the first truly scary part happens, at which point I jump and immediately bury my head into his chest. Exactly where I want to be.

  He laughs at my reaction, pulling me closer to him in an embrace with his other arm. I lightly scratch his chest through his shirt with my fingernails, peeking at the television but ready to duck back into him at a moment’s notice. He puts his hand on mine, clasping it loosely, stopping me from scratching him.

  “What’s up, Emi?” he asks after turning the volume down.

  “What do you mean?” Propped up on my elbow, I look at him intently, trying to read him.

  “I mean... you arranged for us to be alone... here... what are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly.

  “Because I’ve been avoiding this exact scenario.”

  “For the friendship?”

  “Yes, for the friendship,” he answers with a slight laugh. “Per your wishes. I don’t trust myself alone with you.”

  “I know.” He waits for me to continue. “I don’t want to lead you on, Jack. That’s not what I’m meaning to do. I’ve been wanting to be closer to you... I guess I’m testing the waters a little. I can’t hide the fact that I’m incredibly attracted to you. I feel like I’ve been denying obvious feelings for you for weeks, and it’s exhausting. The restraint and the waiting. And I just want you to kiss me again. I want that so badly.”

  “I’m fine waiting, Em, you know that,” he begins. “But having you here, like this, with you touching me, like this... it’s a little tempting.”

  “I guess maybe... it’s meant to be tempting.” I want this. I do.

  “Meaning... what?”

  “Meaning... please kiss me.”

  “Are you su–-” I don’t let him finish his sentence. I can’t wait any longer to feel his lips on mine, so I lean into him, kiss him. It’s even better than I remember it. He takes control, gently guiding me back into the chair, his body now leaning into mine. He strokes my cheek, his touch electric on my skin, then kisses it. The next kiss is on my temple, then my ear, which is my weakness. I smile and sigh heavily, causing him to back away, look at me curiously.

  “Was that a good or bad sigh?” he asks, tucking my hair behind the other ear.

  I blush and laugh. “Very good,” I tell him, encouraging him to continue.

  His kiss travels from my ear to my neck. My arm around his neck, I run my fingers through his hair as he slowly moves one of the spaghetti straps of my shirt off of my shoulder, his finger continuing down the length of my arm until his hand finds mine. He entwines his fingers into mine, both of our hands resting just below my stomach. He kisses my collarbone softly, then my shoulder. I release my hand from his and begin to unbutton his dress shirt. Once unfastened, I reach under his t-shirt, gently scraping his torso until I arrive at his muscular, smooth chest.

  His hand clutches my hip bone tightly as he positions one of his legs between mine. As his thigh makes contact, feelings awaken in me that I hadn’t expected to return so easily. I inhale sharply, surprised. I take my hand from his chest and lift his head back up. His eyes, cautious, meet my gaze. He lowers his face to mine, watching, possibly waiting for me to signal to stop. I should. I can’t. I want to feel more. I want more.

  When his lips finally meet mine, I angle my body toward his, putting my leg on top of his and pulling myself closer into him. I can feel him against my body, leaving me
no doubt that he wants more, too. He kisses me more deeply, holding my head to his. I put my hand back under his shirt, this time massaging the firm muscles in his back as my hand tries to grasp him, clutch him, bring him even closer into me. I move my body against his leg and try to get his shirt off of him. I want to feel his warm skin on mine. We separate so that I can take both of his shirts off, exposing his tanned skin and toned abs. While my hand explores his body, he puts his hand up the back of my shirt to unfasten and remove my strapless bra, leaving my camisole in place. Tentatively, his hand travels around my body, first holding on to my ribs, but finally touching my breast, gently. I look into his eyes, my heart racing and body aching, and I see something in them that makes me pause. He removes his hand, putting my shirt back into place and rubbing my back.

  Hopeful, I make a suggestion. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

  He smiles faintly at me, the look in his eyes concerned. I sense that he is stopping me from going any further. I drop my eyes, not wanting to stop, but knowing immediately that I will not have him tonight. He lifts my chin up, sitting up slightly to press his lips against mine once more.

  “Emi, I would like nothing more than to make love to you right now.”

  “I want you to,” I plead.

  “Really? Is this what you wanted to happen tonight?” he asks. I think about his question. It’s not. I had wanted to kiss him, only kiss, to feel that amazing feeling again. It was just so easy to get lost in that, get carried away. I shake my head and roll off of him onto my back. He leans back over me, his hand traveling down my torso, resting on my thigh... dangerously close... I can tell he isn’t completely set in his decision, either. I hadn’t planned on this, but what if?

  Just when I think I may be able to persuade him, he pats my leg playfully and puts his dress shirt back on, leaving it unbuttoned. I touch his chest one last time, dejected, but knowing deep down that we’re doing the right thing by waiting. I do want to be sure about myself, about him, about where I want things to go with him... before we take things any further. I’ve never been one to take sex lightly. I sense that he isn’t one, either.

  Still, knowing this is the best decision, I feel rejected. I totally put myself out there for him. How can he just... stop? Is he not attracted to me? Is he not sure about me? I honestly believed that everything hinged on my decisions... that he would move forward when I wanted to. A part of me wants to... he senses that... but a part of me has doubts.

  He obviously senses that, too.

  Damn him and his perceptiveness... and his conscience. What man says no to a woman he really likes who’s throwing herself at him?

  Jack. That’s what man. He’s an inherently good man, and although I thought I was in control of this situation, his decision to be level-headed and thoughtful about moving forward reminds me that he is in charge. Deep down, I do know it’s for the best.

  But I have to wonder: is he just doing this for me? Or is something holding him back, too? Does he have fears like I do? Is he feeling uncertain about us? Because I feel positive that he and I will be good together, that we’ll work out. With Jack, my fear is simply losing another lover.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me, his voice startling me, bringing me out of my thoughts.

  “I’m okay,” I answer, nodding, after a few moments of silence. I sit up in my chair and find my bra. “Excuse me,” I smile, retreating to one of the bedrooms in the basement and closing the door. I put my undergarment back on and check my hair in the mirror. I touch my swollen lips, missing him already.

  He knocks on the door.

  “Come in,” I laugh, a part of me hoping he’s changed his mind. He enters the room, now fully dressed. His hair is disheveled, something it never is, and I want so badly to make it even worse. I hear music coming from the main room in the basement: my favorite singer, her sultry voice encouraging us both back into each other’s arms.

  “I love this song,” I tell him. “How did you know?”

  “You left your iPod on the table,” he says. “I just hit play.”

  “I must warn you, this music has a tendency to make me do foolish things... keep in mind I was listening to it earlier today, and look what happened.”

  “It wasn’t foolish,” he assures me, walking slowly toward me, each step in time with the song’s beat.

  “Bad timing, then?” I ask.

  “I don’t think I’d go that far, even,” he says. “I want you, Em.” We each put one arm around each other and begin dancing. My other hand rests on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. He cups my face into his hand and kisses me again.

  “I’m confused,” I whisper. “Do you want me, or not?”

  “Definitely want you,” he answers, “very badly. I want you to know that. I just don’t think tonight is the right night for it.”

  “Well then stop seducing me,” I plead, only half-joking. “It’s been awhile, you know.”

  “I assumed that,” he says. “I don’t want that to be the reason why we sleep together, though.”

  “It wouldn’t be the reason,” I say, still dancing with him. “You know how I feel about you.”

  “Actually, Em, that’s just it. I’m not sure how you do feel about me. We’ve never really talked about it. I know when I kiss you, it does something, physically, to you... which is great, don’t get me wrong. I feel it, too.”

  I think about his words and consider the truth behind them. I feel like we’ve had conversations about this, but he’s right. I haven’t told him how I feel about him. He’s told me how he feels... and hell, he’s waiting for me to get my life together. What assurance does he even have from me?

  “Wow, Jack,” I begin. “First of all, if you want me to talk sensibly to you, you’ve got to turn this music off.” He takes my hand and leads me to the home theatre room and turns the volume down. “Secondly, let’s go somewhere with light,” I comment. “It’s too private, too secluded, too ‘I want to take advantage of you’ down here.”

  “Well, where to?” he asks.

  “Bedroom?” I joke.

  “Kitchen it is.” I groan but follow him upstairs. “Do you like cake?” he asks as he reaches into the refrigerator. I take a seat on a barstool on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

  “What kind?”

  “Spice, I think. Kell brought it over. Would you like some?”

  “Cake... you... cake... you...” I ponder the choices. “Alright, cake.” He cuts one slice of cake and puts it on a plate, setting it halfway between us on the kitchen island with two forks.

  “Milk?”

  “Why not?” I smile, picking up a fork and stabbing a corner with a lot of icing. He pours two glasses of milk and brings them over. “This is really good,” I say, wishing I had swallowed the bite I had taken before talking. He laughs at me and nods.

  “Kelly does this for a living,” he says. “Pastry chef.”

  “She’s in the right business.” I take another bite. He watches me in silence for a few seconds.

  “You were going to talk sensibly...”

  “Yes,” I agree. “Jack, I think you are amazing... and you’re right, something happens to me physically when you kiss me, or even touch me. I told you, I’ve never felt anything like that with anyone else. You’re incredibly smart and driven. And caring and considerate. And you’re beyond handsome, too much for your own good, I might say... except that you’re completely humble and have no ego whatsoever. You put others before you... you care about those kids... and me... and you’re patient and tolerant. I could think of a thousand reasons why we should be together. I know in my heart that we are good together... but...”

  “But?” he asks.

  “But there’s a big reason why we shouldn’t... and that’s the part that’s holding me back, the only part.”

  “And that is...”

  “Nate,” I tell him, swallowing hard. He looks confused.

  “Nate?” He stares down at the granite countertop. “I still can
’t compete,” he mumbles.

  “Are you kidding?” I ask him. “Because it’s not a competition. There are no winners or losers...”

  “No, I know, Emi, but can you ever... love me... like you loved him?”

  “Love him,” I correct him. “I will always love him, Jack. It’s impossible for me to stop just because he’s not here.”

  “I feel a little like a consolation prize,” he says. “I don’t like that feeling.”

  “I wouldn’t like it either,” I explain. “But this is my challenge. To prove to myself that I can love like that again, without reservation or hesitation... and to prove to you... that it’s you I can be with.”

  “And how’s that going for you?”

  “It’s a challenge,” I shrug my shoulders. “I think I’m going about it backwards.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I know it’s you,” I tell him. “Please don’t doubt that. I just hope that I can like you... enough for you... and the one thing that holds me back isn’t Nate, as a person, it’s what happened to him. Losing him... the thought of ever going through that again makes me really cautious. I can feel myself holding back... and that’s not fair to you.”

  He comes around the counter and stands behind me, rubbing my shoulders. His hands stop briefly as I feel him kiss the back of my neck.

  “This is about... living...” he speaks softly, carefully. “About being alive, and feeling alive... and sharing your life with someone.”

  I nod, knowing where he’s taking the conversation.

  “And I feel so alive with you, Emi.” I know exactly how he feels. “I wouldn’t forego that feeling for anything in the world. There is nothing better than being in love.” He kisses my neck again. “There is nothing better than being in love... with you.”

  My stomach drops, my heart stutters. He’s in love with me. A part of me is excited beyond belief... and the other part is completely frightened. I knew he cared about me. I guess I even knew he loved me. But he’s never said it. And I don’t think I can say it yet.