Smart, Sexy and Secretive (The Reed Brothers 2)

Matt and I haul him out to the cabstand and throw him into a taxi. The girlfriend gets in behind him. I feel bad for the cab driver who will have to throw his big ass out on the sidewalk.

I dust my hands off. At least it’s done.

Snow is falling on us, and I brush my hand across my hair. Suddenly, Matt tenses beside me. What? I ask.

He smiles, claps me on the shoulder and says, Take the rest of the night off. Then he points behind me.

I turn around and freeze. My lungs refuse to do their job, and I stand there, not breathing, not moving, trying not to feel anything. But there she is. Emily is standing on the sidewalk looking at me.

She shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous as hell. Snow is falling on her hair, and she’s not wearing a coat. Surely she can afford a coat. Her family is worth billions. Her dark-blond hair, so unlike the black hair with the blue stripe she had when I met her, falls down to the middle of her back, and she has it tucked behind her ear. She’s not wearing clothes from around here. She’s full-on Madison Avenue right now.

But the best thing about it is… she’s mine.

Matt says something to her, but she doesn’t speak to him. She doesn’t break eye contact with me, and I feel like there’s an invisible tether between the two of us.

I look at Matt to tell him I’m going wherever she goes. He grins. I guess we won’t have to worry about your dick dying from lack of use after all.

I’ll see you later.

I doubt it, he says. But he’s still grinning that goofy smile. I want to go and hug her, but I guess you get first dibs.

And last dibs. And all the dibs in between.

He waves to her and signs the word later.

She nods, throws him a kiss with the tips of her fingers, and then starts toward me. Her boots leave footprints in the snow, and I force myself to stay still. I tuck my hands in my jeans pockets to keep from grabbing her.

Hi, she signs.

I can’t stand it any longer. I reach for her so quickly that she startles, but she’s reaching for me, too. I haul her against me, needing to feel her heart beating against mine.

Her breath brushes my ear and f**king tears sting my eyes. I tuck my face into her neck and breathe in the scent that is uniquely hers. She wraps her arms around my waist, and her hands slide into my back pockets. We stand there in the snow like that until I feel dampness on my shirt. I tilt her face up to mine so I can look at her.

“I’m so glad you’re home.” I use my voice because I don’t want to take my hands off her.

“Me, too,” she says. A lone tear tracks down her cheek. I wipe it away with the pad of my thumb.

“You’re back?” I ask.

She nods, turning her head to kiss my palm.

“For how long?”

“Always.” She smiles. God, she can undo me with that smile.

“Promise?” My heart is pounding in my chest.

She nods and draws a cross over her chest. “I swear it.”

“What about your father?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about my father right now.”

“I’ll never survive it if you leave me again.” I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Can you come home with me?” she asks.

If I take her home right now, we won’t get to talk at all because I’ll be all over her. “Let’s go get some pie,” I say instead.

Her face falls. “You’re mad at me.”

“I love you like crazy, girl. How could I be mad at you?” I drink her in from the curve of her lips to the way her eyes look almost black in the darkness of the night.

She squeezes my hands. “Is Matt all right?”

I nod. “Thanks to you, yes.”

She exhales, and it’s like a balloon has been emptied inside her. “What do we do now?” she asks.

“Pie,” we both say at the same time. I take her hand in mine and lead her to the diner where we had our first meal together. Pie is safe. Pie is good. Pie will buy me enough time to be sure she still loves me as much as I love her.

Emily

“I guess I don’t have to ask you if you ate today,” Logan jokes. When we first met, he felt the need to feed me all the time. Food was scarce, but I always made do.

“I’ve been too nervous to eat today,” I admit, laying a hand on my stomach, which is suddenly growling. I’m glad he can’t hear it.

“Why nervous?” he asks as he slides into a booth. Sometimes Logan forgets that he’s not signing and uses the minimum number of words possible. It doesn’t bother me.

I open my mouth to tell him how scared I was that he hated me when Annie, the waitress, comes to the table and asks, “Do you need a menu?”

Logan shakes his head and motions to me. He’ll have what I’m having. “Two pieces of apple pie and two root beers.” I say.

She nods and cracks her gum at me. “You look awfully familiar,” she says, her eyes narrowing at me.

Logan takes a napkin and pulls a Sharpie from his pocket. He’s never without something to write with. He very slowly writes the words my girlfriend. It’s slow enough and the letters are spaced far enough apart that I can read them. Then he points to me.

Annie’s eyebrows lift. She twists her mouth into a look of incredulity, but then she shrugs and walks away.

“Why didn’t you talk to her?” I ask. “You do have a voice.”

“I don’t talk to everyone.”

“Mmm hmm,” I hum. “Sometimes I think you like your silent world.”