“You asked,” she said, “so now you have to stand there and accept the answer.”
He shut his mouth.
She nodded her approval.
“When I asked you to come here and help me, I never once thought about what such an action would cost you. I thought only of myself. Of my ladies. My town. And thanks to my selfishness, you’ve lost your job and nearly lost your life. I can’t sit by and watch all you’ve worked for crumble around you, Mal. I care about you too much.”
She cared about him? Like a friend? Like a sister? Or like something more? Mal’s pulse leapt from a steady walk to a full-out gallop in a single heartbeat. Suddenly it wasn’t his job he wanted to talk about.
“There’ll be other jobs, Emma. But there’ll never be anyone as important to me as you . . . and the aunts. You’re the only family I’ve ever known. And family sticks up for family, no matter the cost. I’m not going to leave you to fight this battle on your own.”
“Then maybe it’s time I gave up the fight.” Her shoulders sagged. “It’s probably what I should have done in the first place. It was foolish to put my ladies’ lives in danger for a piece of earth that can be replaced.”
Mal drew back. “What? This can’t be Emma Chandler standing before me. She never backs down from a fight just because things get hard. And she especially wouldn’t back down from a pair of ill-mannered bullies picking on a group of defenseless women.”
Emma slammed hands on her hips, a frown turning the corners of her mouth down. “We’re not defenseless.”
He chuckled. “Now, that’s the Emma I know and love.”
Again with the mouth malfunctions.
Maybe she didn’t notice. It was just a turn of phrase, after all. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. In his case it did, but she didn’t have to know that.
Emma’s gaze searched his face. He swallowed hard but brazened out the scrutiny. At least for a few long seconds. When the look in her eyes changed . . . softened . . . invited . . . he started to talk again. It was either that or pull her into his arms and kiss her with a hunger he wasn’t sure he could completely control.
“We stand together, and we fight together,” he vowed. “No matter how long it takes. No regrets. No blame. Agreed?”
“But what about Andrew? It’s dangerous for him to be here.”
Mal inwardly smiled. How could this compassionate woman ever think herself selfish? She was always thinking of others. Always.
“I’ll fill him in on the facts of the situation, then give him the same choice you gave your ladies. Stay and fight, knowing the risks, or leave with my blessing and respect intact. He’ll decide for himself.”
“You’re a good man, Malachi Shaw.” Then before he could even think of dodging, Emma clasped his cheeks, raised up on tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his.
It lasted only a heartbeat—although, he was pretty sure his heart stopped beating in that moment, so that particular measurement was probably not very accurate. The only thing he knew for sure was that the kiss ended before his stupefied mind could respond.
Then she vanished. And all he could do was stand in the empty café and wish he’d chosen kissing over talking when he’d had the chance.
28
Lips tingling and mind awhirl with shock over her own boldness, Emma flew from the café to the store in such a fog of delight and embarrassment that she was nearly upon Tori before recognizing that the freighter had a grip on her friend’s waist. And Tori was making no effort to escape. Oh, her posture was stiff, and her hands were braced against Porter’s chest with her elbows locked as if trying to maintain the maximum distance possible. But none of that changed the astounding facts.
A man. Holding Tori. In broad daylight. And she was allowing it.
In fact, the two were staring at each other so intently, they didn’t notice Emma’s approach until her heel clicked on the bottom stair. The tiny sound elicited a reaction more in keeping with a gunshot.
Both parties jumped. Tori gasped. Porter whipped his head around, his expression fierce as he gripped Tori to his chest with all the might of a grizzly and instinctively twisted to put himself between her and danger. Tori’s arms folded like a rag doll’s as she collapsed against the big man’s chest. Her mouth, apparently, worked just fine, however.
“Let me go, you cow-handed oaf. You promised to release me as soon as Mr. Shaw finished his discussion. Well, Emma’s here now, so—”
His arms let go of Tori’s waist so fast, she staggered backward and would have fallen against the store wall if Mr. Porter hadn’t grabbed her elbow to steady her. Her face flaming pink, Tori batted away his help the moment she regained her footing.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, though the blush on her cheeks told a different story. Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her friend so flustered.