Page 8 of Emeric

The couches were a deep gray and plush, the kind I could spend a weekend napping on in front of the TV.

I took a seat facing the kitchen rather than the windows that looked out onto the street below. Emeric kept a cushion between us, turning toward me to give me his full attention.

“I had a daughter,” I told him. They were words I’d said many times before.

Instead of offering me his sympathy, Emeric held my gaze and patiently waited for me to continue.

“She died soon after birth. I… I don’t want to talk about the why.” I never did. There was nothing we could have done, or the doctors for that matter. “It wasn’t recent, but it never leaves me. All it takes is something small to trigger a memory and have me wondering what could have been. When I pulled into the parking garage, I started thinking about the people who visit your hotel, and if families do. That led me to think about the vacations we didn’t get to take as a family. My wife and I split not long after we lost our daughter. Before I spiraled further, I got out of my car and came up here.” Why I felt the need to tack on the part about my ex was anyone’s guess.

Emeric leaned forward and took my hand in his to offer me a comforting squeeze. His hand was warm and soft. He didn’t work with them; instead, he used his mind. “You could have texted me. I wouldn’t have been upset.”

“That’s not me. I wanted to explain.”

“Thank you for trusting me. I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t begin to imagine the kind of pain you’ve been through.”

I offered him a sad smile. “Keeping busy helps. Sometimes, I get stuck and have to push myself forward.”

“Do you want to talk more, or would you like a distraction?”

“There’s no way I want to fuck.” I laughed.

He pushed my hand away with a chuckle. “That’s not what I meant. How about a movie?” When he asked, it sounded more appealing than when Sheldon did.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Are you hungry? I haven’t had a chance to eat yet.”

“Yeah, I actually am.”

Emeric smiled before getting up to grab his phone, while I settled against the couch. I was glad he asked me if I would like to stay. I needed this.

3

SYLVAN

Books were easy. Books didn’t judge or ask why I wrote what I did. No one wanted to tell me I shouldn’t read what I do. Books didn’t criticize me if I decided to venture only to the grocery store and the pharmacy this week, without going anywhere else.

What they did was provide an escape, not only when I wrote them but also when I read other authors’ books.

A dreamy sigh slid past my lips as I closed the book I’d been reading. It was an emotional story, with a main character who found himself in deep trouble. The other hero was someone he’d met on a blind date. They hit it off. Bit by bit, layers were peeled away, and the characters' true natures were uncovered. The road got bumpy for them for a while. By the end, they had a beautiful happily ever after.

I wished I had that. Someone who fit with me, who cherished and loved me for who I was.

The fantasies that lived in my mind weren’t just for my characters. There had been scene after scene of me with a man I had no business desiring. Oleander was not only out of my league, but he was also a guard for a mafia boss’s partner.

Danger followed Jordan wherever he went. That meant the people he had with him were deadly in their protection of him and the men he loved. When Oleander wasn’t protecting Vail, he was on Jordan’s detail for whatever he required.

The first time I met Oleander, I stumbled over my words, my anxiety coming out in full force. By the time the introduction was over, I fled to another room with an excuse of needing to get back to work. There was nowhere I had to be. I just had to step away before I made a bigger fool of myself.

Each interaction with him after was easier, until he started teaching me to shoot. No one should hold a gun while their hand shook. Oleander thought I was nervous about gripping the weapon. Oh, how wrong he was. The gun wasn’t comfortable in my hand, but I knew nothing bad would happen because he was with me.

When his hand touched mine to help guide me… I wasn’t sure how I stayed upright. My knees nearly buckled. My hand trembled badly. Luckily, there was no one on the property but the two of us, although the cameras could see everything. Barry and the other guards who manned the security desk in Jordan’s building wouldn’t say anything. They had much bigger issues to worry about than me trying not to faint at the feel of Oleander’s touch.

My phone ringing pulled me out of my thoughts, into the present, and onto the screen in front of me. A groan left me without thought. My neighbor drove me crazy. If I didn’t answer, he’d keep calling until I did. He’d demonstrated it enough in the past.

“Yes, Mr. Webb?” I couldn’t imagine what I’d done this time.

Over the years, he’d contacted me because my trees were leaning over onto his property and dropping leaves. The grass had been too high near the fence line, thanks to days upon days of rain and the landscapers being very busy once it stopped. That was a fun conversation. I waited for him to offer to cut it for me, but he refrained.