There’s a scuffling sound on the other side of the door—perhaps the sound of dog claws against hardwood floors—and then an exasperated growl—from Emma, not the dog—followed by, “For Pete’s sake, Sirius. Can’t you just once obey me?”
I can’t help the grin that pops on my face, because the little bit I’ve learned about Emma Peterson is that she likes a very ordered world and a disobedient dog has got to give her absolute heartburn.
This is a reminder to myself that I don’t know this woman hardly at all, yet I’ve finagled her to be my attorney—for the next few months at least—and it should give me a moment’s pause over the craziness of what I’m doing.
Yet, I can’t find it within me to listen to those warning bells.
Something happened in that police station with Emma Peterson and I’m acting on a gut instinct here. I can actually pinpoint the moment. It’s where she lost control and, in a sudden burst of anger, yelled at me.
Then called me names.
Then decided to leave my ass behind, even if it meant losing her job.
In that moment, she transformed from a woman of no consequence to me, to one who intrigued me very much. While I thought her beautiful in an understated way when I first saw her, she turned into an absolute temptress when she was riled up.
And God fuck my soul… that turned me on in a way I don’t recall ever having felt before.
I haven’t been this intrigued by a woman in a very long time. In my line of work, it’s hard to find genuine people. They all want something from you, and they tell you want you want to hear.
I don’t need “yes” people in my life. I need people to tell me the truth.
And I need people to believe in me, and there is one thing that struck me about that day… Emma Peterson believed my story and that sort of sealed her fate where I was concerned.
I bided my time for weeks, waiting to see what would happen with the investigation into Keith’s death. To say that I was beyond stressed is an understatement. While I would not have said Keith was a friend at the time of his death, because our band’s breakup had left some seriously bad feelings on both sides, I was immensely saddened he was dead, and perhaps even regretful that we parted on bad terms. I went to his funeral and kept to the back of the church so none of the former band or their family and friends would see me. I slipped out just as covertly, as I didn’t want them upset by my presence.
But I paid my respects to Keith, I grieved for him alone, and that was all I could do.
As for the investigation into his death, if the focus came back on me, I knew Midge would step in with all of her legal brawn and prowess, but I would have insisted Emma help her with the case. And Midge, that crazy aunt of mine, would have gladly agreed.
After a few weeks, an arrest was made, and I knew I’d have to figure out another way to get close to Emma so I could figure out what this unusual attraction to her was.
And it is unusual. She’s not my type normally. I like my women a little more forward, to dress a lot sexier, and to have a little more outgoing of a personality. Emma wasn’t anything like that, and still probably isn’t.
But I know she’s got it lurking deep inside, and I have to say… there’s a good bet that I’m doing this because she’s presenting a challenge to me, because let’s face it… the women in my life lately have all thrown themselves at me. There’s not much mystery there.
Finally, I hear her say on the other side of the door, “Good boy. Now stay.”
Then the snick of her door unlocking. The door swings open and I get just the barest glimpse of Emma—pressed khaki Bermuda shorts with a white button-up top—before a huge, furry black beast shoots toward me.
I also get just a glimpse of the dog—rolling eyes, lolling tongue—and I immediately realize it’s a puppy.
A motherfucking huge puppy.
I brace, inherently knowing I’m not about to be attacked, and hold my ground while the dog jumps up on me. Paws go to my shoulders and a slobbering tongue slaps at my face.
“Sirius!” Emma exclaims, her hands going to his collar to pull him off me. I help by giving him a gentle shove, and she manages to drag him backward a few feet. I use that opportunity to wipe my face on my sleeve, invite myself in, and shut her front door behind me.
I watch in amusement as Emma wrestles with the dog as it tries to lunge back at me in all its puppy glory, and with a few grunts and deep sighs, she manages to pull him further into her living room where she has a large, wired kennel for him.
With a massive amount of struggle, she pushes him into the kennel, latches it behind him, and turns to face me with a flushed face and her hair in a mess all around her face.
Reminds me of how she looked when she was directing her fury at me in the police station, and fuck… why do I like that shit so much?
“What are you doing here?” she asks breathlessly as she tries to smooth her hair down. I want to tell her to leave it rumpled as it’s far sexier, but I withstand the impulse.