~E~

My stomach growls and I press my hand down on it. It's lunch time, the different smells from the break room come wafting in. My belly flips again, screaming out in protest. Okay, okay, relax.

I gather my purse, straightening up my desk slightly as I go. Less to do later when my ass is halfway out the door, my bed and Netflix calling my name. Oh, and don't forget my pajama pants. Pathetic, Emma, really. Nights home with the TV now?

Chuckling to myself, I file away in my bag the charts from this morning, notes needing to be done, before taking on this afternoon's clients. Before I hear her, the floral perfume she loves assaults my nose and I freeze. I would know the scent a mile away, memories of my childhood flooding my brain.

"Emma, dear, are you ready for lunch?"

I spin, my mother standing before me, a sweet look on her face. Oh, please, she doesn't have a sweet bone in her body. She tries to fool me, and unbeknownst to her, I pretend it works. Yeah, I can see right through her.

"What? We weren't meeting for lunch. I told you not today, Mom." I snap, unable to mask my annoyance. This isn't the first time she's shown up unannounced. But in her world, there's only one person—her.

Her face darkens, her eyes narrowing slightly. All of her sweetness gone. "We talked about it this morning and you said yes, Emma."

"No, I didn't. I said not today, maybe another day. Do you not listen to me?"

I throw my hands up, my face flushing. I want to spew everything at her, curses and all. But I won't. I can't. Instead, I turn away, bracing myself for her reaction. "Of course I listen to you. Don't you dare speak to your mother that way, do you understand me, young lady? Now, let's go, I'm taking you to lunch. We have things to discuss."

I roll my eyes, before turning back to face her. "We don't have things to discuss, Mom. What could we possible have to discuss? My love life? Your rules? Melissa? Dad? What? I talk to you constantly; there's no way anything changed from a few hours ago or you would've already called me!"

Fury flashes across her face. I step back, knowing I've crossed the line. I can't help myself sometimes; years and years of her torture have driven me insane. "Listen here, Emma Jane," her voice booms through the tiny space of my office. Shit, she used my middle name. Reel it back in, Em, she's going to combust. You can't let her yell here at work.

A loud rap on the door breaks our attention and we both jump, startled by the sound. "Excuse me?" A voice rumbles and my stomach falls to the floor. Shit, shit shit! Knox! "Is everything okay in here? I heard yelling." His sexy voice calls out gently and I want to melt into the floor. Or disappear into thin air. I don't care at this point—anything to take me away from this. I don't dare raise my eyes to my mother, who's storming to the door, her hatred for being interrupted apparent.

"We are fine!" She sneers, pushing the door to close it. But she's outmatched as Knox pushes it back open, concern etched across his face. His eyes find me across the room and instantly lock on mine, the same pull there, even stronger now. Get a grip, Emma. He's a cocky ass. Seems like he's a nosy one, too.

"Emma? Everything okay in here?" Knox asks, ignoring my mother completely. Great first impression there; she's clearly going to love him.

I nod, my face flaming red. My cheeks and ears burn and I can only imagine how red they are. No words form as his eyes dart back and forth between my mother and me. What can I say? Meet my mother? My crazy psycho mother?

"Emma, who is this man?" My mother snaps at me, rolling her eyes as she turns her head my way. "Do you know him?"

I nod again, the only form of communication I can manage at the moment. Absolutely mortified.

Knox clears his throat. He steps into my office as if invited, his whole presence filling the room. My breath hitches at the closeness of him. The way he fills the room as if there is nothing else around. Only him and me. Me and him. "I work here. Dr. Knox Rothwell, nice to meet you." He holds his hand out; my mother turns her nose up and stalks towards me. Knox is frozen for a moment, shock passing over his face as he registers the complete brush off my mother just gave him. Yep, she's a cold-hearted bitch.

The embarrassment is eating me alive, my face hotter than lava. I need to get them both out of here before something bad happens. I take a deep breath, ready to speak, when my mother cuts me off. "Emma! Let's go. We've wasted enough time."

"No," I barely manage. Please, just go already.

"What? Why not? I came here to have lunch with you, so let's go!"

"Emma," Knox says, a small smile beginning to play on his lips, "I thought we were going out to lunch? You know, you being my mentor and all." He winks and a giggle escapes, easily catching on to his hint.

"That's right!" I exclaim, "I'd totally forgotten! I'm his mentor, and today's his first day, and he needs lunch and we have to go over some details of the office..." I trail off when I realize I'm rambling. My mother gives a curt nod, her eyes drilling into mine. I'm sure she suspects something, but there isn't a damned thing she can do about it.

"Well, I'm sure it'll be fine for me to tag along, huh, Emma? I won't disturb you two." I shake my head no. Why can't she make this easier on all of us by getting in the damned car and going? I don't need to have a lunch with her, only for her to be airing all of my dirty laundry right on the table.

"Do you mind taking off now? We don't have a long lunch break and there's a lot to discuss." Knox directs his question towards my mom and I shrink away slightly, knowing she's going to flip.

"Um, Knox, is it?" Her fists curl at her sides. Her breath comes out in sharp pants. "Listen here, playboy, I'll go when I'm damned ready to!"

Oh shit, here it comes. Just ignore it, Knox. Push her; she pushes you twice as hard.

"Emma, are you going to let him talk to me that way? I don't need to go, do I?"

"Mom, Knox wasn't being rude. He's explaining we can't delay this meeting. Please understand."

She sighs, ticking her tongue against her teeth.

"You call me as soon as you're finished with work today, Emma. I mean it." She closes in on me, making me fully aware she's pissed off. "Don't even think of dating him." She mutters under her breath. And then she's gone, her scent still lingering. I collapse in my chair, exhaustion taking hold.

Knox whistles low and my eyes jerk up, my face flushing red. Yep, she's a piece of work and a huge reason why I'm still single.

Heavy air fills the room, and compresses the awkwardness between us. What can I say? My mother shows herself without me needing to say a thing. I wait for Knox to say something, my mind racing. He's going to hightail it out of here. Who would want to date a girl with a psycho mother?

"Are you ready to go to lunch?" He asks, his voice soft. My breath hitches and I tilt my head to the side. Did I really hear him ask me to go to lunch?

"Ex... excuse... me?" I stammer, my flush deepening. My ears burn and I'm sure I look like a tomato.

Knox steps closer, his presence suddenly more known. The room grows smaller and I lose sight of everything around us, my brain is able to focus on only him. "I asked if you were ready for lunch. We're going to go to lunch, you being my mentor, correct?"

A smug grin plays on his lips, a hint of his cockiness returning. I don't know whether it annoys me or turns me on. I choke out a small laugh, glancing down as I fiddle with the pens on my desk. This isn't a good idea, Emma. He's a coworker, he only started working today, it's asking for trouble.

"I'm not too sure Knox..." Before I can finish, he's in front of my desk, his hands spread palm down, his muscular arms flexing as he leans down. His face moves inches away from mine. My breath hitches and my eyelids flutter. I can't move; I'm frozen in place.

His sweet breath caresses my face, tickling my skin. Oh, my God, oh, my God, say something, anything.

"I saved you. You owe me, Emma Russe."

I blink rapidly, my brain trying to process his words. I can't focus with him this close. His eyes drop down to my lips, his tongue slowly wetting his own. Desire pulses through me, heat flooding between my legs.

Oh, what sweet temptation he is. At this point, I don't care that he breaks the number one rule. Hell, I don't care if he breaks all the rules. His attention fully on me has my mind racing, full of nasty things I've only read about...

"So," his voice startles me, and I jerk, my attention snapping back, "Are you ready for lunch?"

Am I? I do sort of owe him for successfully getting my mother out of here, no easy feat, I must admit. Why not, Emma? Is one lunch going to hurt anyone?

~K~

What are you doing, man? You can't date her. She's a new coworker for one, and for two, it's a bad idea. I shouldn't be asking this woman to lunch. I should be staying here, organizing my office, and trying to get ready to begin the transfer of my patients here.

After doing some community mental health work, I worked at a clinic for a while, until I was ready to start my own practice. A lot of my patients from the clinic are following me here and I want to make it the smoothest transition possible. I'm working hard to make this business of mine successful.

I'm waiting for Emma's answer, as I study her face, memorizing her features. I desperately want to taste her, her lavender scent filling my nose. Memories of my childhood rush back, the many lavender plants surrounding our home making their aroma known. I close my eyes briefly, flashes of Ethan, Jane, my youngest sister, and me as we run through the fields, free and innocent.

"I guess one lunch won't hurt." Emma's voice breaks my thought, her face lighting up from her adorable smile. She moves away, rising to grab her purse and phone. "I was ready to go before my mother showed up unannounced."

I stand, gesturing for her to go ahead of me. "Damn, I would hate to have my mother show up without even asking. I mean, granted, we get along great, but surprise visits? Nah, I'm all set." I chuckle, hoping to keep the mood light. It has to be hard dealing with an overbearing parent, especially one who seems quite bitchy.

I follow Emma out as I do my best to keep my eyes off her ass as we head to our cars. "I'll drive," I offer, steering her towards my truck. My baby. A gorgeous F150, low to the ground and completely black and tinted. I've worked hard to have her and plan on keeping her around for a long time.

"Nice truck," Emma says, her eyes scan the frame. I open the door for her, watching her face as she registers the pristine interior. I'm a tad obsessed with keeping it clean. "Damn, do you spit shine this thing?" She laughs as she slides inside, her long legs fold up underneath her.

God, she's stunning. She's thicker than some but to me, it adds to her sexiness. Plus, more to grab onto. "Well, spit, no, but I do shine her every day. This truck is my baby, my pride and joy." I grin. "Please, be careful." I shut the door, as I hurry to the other side. A woman hasn't been inside this truck yet, and I find it ironic it's her. Someone untouchable, out of reach, as I'm certainly not one to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.

Sliding in, I shut the door and glance at Emma. Her back is as straight as a rod and she fidgets with her fingers in her lap. She looks uncomfortable and I hope it's not because of me. She sneaks a glance at me from the corner of her eye and her shoulders slightly relax, but she continues to fidget, looking back straight ahead.

I start the truck, the engine smoothly comes to life. "What's your stomach craving today? Pizza? Subs?" I ask, keeping my voice light in hopes she relaxes more. A technique I've learned with anxious patients is to project calm and they usually follow suit. Most of the time, all they need is comfort. I've tried not to be too overconfident; I don't want her thinking I'm a complete asshole. It's a defense mechanism, but I'm working on it. There is no reason we can't be friends as coworkers. We work in the same field; we're bound to have things in common. Often, therapists meet to discuss ideas and treatment ideas for patients. Advice and feedback are key in our type of work.

"There's a delicious sandwich shop right up the street, want to go there?" She asks, fishing her phone out of her pocket, the screen lighting up with messages. Probably has a boyfriend already, Knox. Doesn't matter anyway.

Her face falls as she reads the messages but she flicks the screen off, stuffing it back in her pocket. "Fine by me. Everything okay?" I nod at her and she nods back, her gaze drifting out the window.

Pulling out onto the road, we make it to the small strip mall in less than five minutes. I want to ask her who was messaging her and why she looked upset over it, but it's not my place. My damned therapist brain won't shut up. I can read people's faces like a book. Growing up, my mom always said I would be in a profession helping others. And here I am, trying to solve all their problems. Forget my own, though, that's a whole other story.

I pull into a spot by the door, the neon sign lighting up "Palace Pizza & Subs." The air from the open windows brings in the smell of pizza baking; making my mouth water in anticipation. I suddenly realize how hungry I am, sharp pangs pushing me out the door. "Ready?" I call to Emma as I go to open my door. Hearing no response, I turn back to see her mouth dropped open, her eyes bulging in shock.

"What's wrong?" I ask but I follow her gaze and find my answer. Her mother stands by the door, her arms crossed. Shit, I don't remember my dad looking that pissed when I crashed his car. "Oh shit..." I mutter under my breath, not believing my own eyes.

Emma looks over at me, a pained expression on her face. My heart aches for her. What a shitty thing to have to deal with. And, from what I can gather in this short time, she deals with her every day. Before I can react, Emma is out of the truck, slamming the door behind her.

I flinch, my body tensing. Easy there, easy. I watch as she storms over to her mother, her words loud and biting. No disrespect, I must say. Only pure frustration. Did she follow us here? Wait in the parking lot and watch for us to leave? I shake my head at the absurdity. At the same time, I want to pick Emma up and get her the fuck away from here.

Emma's mother shouts loudly, Emma stands tall, not backing down. She still remains respectful, the distance between them due to Emma. But I'm glad to see she's strong, doesn't back down. "I said no to lunch, Mom! What don't you get? When will you fucking butt out of my life?" Emma throws her hands in the air, her face full of exasperation. I decide to intervene. After shutting the truck off, I get out, heading towards them.

"If you want to have lunch with us that badly, I'm sure it won't be that much of a problem," I say, trying to play the nice guy. Maybe if I win her mother over, she'll like me more. Who knows, but it's worth a shot.

Emma throws me a dirty look. I offer my hand to her mother, "I'm Knox, nice to meet you. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot before."

"Marie," she says, surprise crossing her face. Her features visibly relax. She takes my hand, giving me a curt shake with a small smile. Hey, I'll take it. It's better than her completely hating me.

"All right, then." I say, clasping my hands together, a cheeky smile crossing my face, "Let's go eat." I grab the door, opening it and gesturing for them to head inside. My mother enters first, and when Emma brushes by me, I grab her wrist, stopping her in place. "Keeps her happy, right?" Her head whips up, her eyes studying me. She's trying to figure me out, analyze me. Oh, the mind of a therapist...

I offer her a genuine smile, wanting her to know I do care. Anything to make her problem easier to deal with. It's what I do, right?

"Thanks," Emma whispers, her plump pink lips begging to be kissed.

"Are you guys coming?" Mom calls, and our moment is broken but I'll make damned sure there're more.