“No kidding.” Her stomach went on a loop-the-loop, because something about this man made her feel like she was standing on shaky ground.
Hands still raised, he took another step back. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”
She shook her head, and the gesture made her feel a little nauseous. “You didn’t. But I’m okay now. So, thank you.” With that, she turned and rushed away. She would’ve sworn he watched her until she disappeared around the corner, and then she moved even faster just in case he followed. Thank God her place was only six houses down.
Except, of course, that she couldn’t get in. Still, the golden glow of her front porch light and the colored lights on her Christmas tree that twinkled from her front window restored some of her sense of security. “Here you go, baby,” she said, sitting on her stoop and settling her Shih Tzu in her lap. “I’m gonna get us in.”
Her phone was her one saving grace of the whole night, and she used it to look up emergency lock-out services…only to find that the Caine guy was right. They gave her an estimate of ninety minutes. Which would put them here after midnight. Awesome.
Emma dropped her head into her hand. “If I throw up, I promise not to do it on you, Chewy.”
The little guy spun in her lap, seemingly knowing she needed his comfort judging by how he nuzzled her face. She laughed at his antics despite herself.
She tugged the collar of her coat up around her neck and pulled her free hand inside her sleeves. With the other, she opened her e-reader app on her phone and found a new book to start. There was nothing to be done but wait. And the light of the app made her feel less alone.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the rev of a motorcycle engine tore into the quiet somewhere down the block, and both she and Chewy startled. The dog growled and ruffed out little half barks that expressed concern but not outright alarm. But then the motorcycle came toward them and its rumbling engine echoed louder off the buildings, sending Chewy into full-on protective mode.
Especially when the bike pulled to the empty curb in front of the house next to hers.
Caine. His boots braced against the ground as the sleek all-black Harley came to a stop.
Emma stared. Once again, her brain seemed to be caught in an internal war between fear and fascination, panic and relief. Definitely relief, if she wanted to be honest with herself.
The engine went dead, and silence rang loud in its wake.
“How long?” he called out.
She hesitated only a moment before realizing what he meant. “Til the locksmith?” Her phone said fifteen minutes had passed since she’d called. “About seventy-five minutes.”
“Okay.” Parked at the edge of the illumination cast by her lights, Emma could just make out Caine’s movements. He crossed his arms and his head fell forward.
“Um, Caine?” she said, testing out that name.
“Yeah?”
She leaned forward to try to see him better. “What are you doing?”
A sigh that sounded like pure frustration. “Waiting.”
“For?”
“You to be safe.”
Those four words. Those four words added a serious dose of fascination to the relief his presence brought. Because why would he go to this trouble for her when he’d already helped her and she’d kinda brushed him off? Who did that?
But if she’d been blown away by his presence and his determination to watch out for her and those words, it was nothing compared to what happened next. About ten minutes later, Emma became aware of the distant sound of another motorcycle, but didn’t think about it until it got closer—and then turned onto her street.
Somehow she knew it was going to stop near Caine, and then it did just that.
Emma felt like she was watching a movie and had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next. New biker guy handed Caine something, looked her way, and seemed to hold a conversation she couldn’t quite hear over his motor. Then, as quickly as he came, he left again. Until the street was once more quiet and his engine noise became a distant whine.
Caine got off his bike, and Emma’s pulse kicked up in her veins. She had no idea what was coming at her. And then he was in front of her, standing within the circle of light so that she could see him clearly. Her breath caught as those eyes landed on her. Ice-blue heat in a harsh face. Harsh all except for—
“Here,” he said, holding something out to her.
—the soft fullness of his lips. Emma had to drag her gaze away to see what was in his hand. A plastic grocery bag swung heavy in his grip.
“What is it?” she asked.
One thick, dark brow arched upward toward the knit cap.