Chapter Eleven

        Lunch with Noah had been just what Emma Jean needed. She felt relaxed as she walked back into Fetterman Animal Care with a renewed sense of purpose and a boost in her self-confidence. Thanks to Noah playing devil’s advocate, Emma Jean realized that she was more determined than she knew to make her life her own. And he was right about something else, too. She needed to learn to ask for help. So, as soon as she divested herself of her coat and scarf, she set off in search of Marissa.

        “Hey, Emma Jean, I was just going to come and talk to you,” Marissa said, just coming in the back door from what Emma Jean presumed was a smoke break.

        “Oh? Did I do something wrong?”

        “What?” Marissa laughed. “Why would you think that?”

         Force of habit , she thought. “No reason,” she shrugged. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

        “Well,” Marissa sighed as she breezed passed and indicated for Emma Jean to follow. “It seems that in a tragic episode of memory loss, I forgot to grant you administrative privileges in the computer system. Can’t exactly edit patient records if you can’t access them, right?”

        Emma Jean nearly wept with relief. So, she wasn’t incompetent after all. She hadn’t been able to edit the patient records because she literally couldn’t. She shook her head at Marissa as she sat down in front of Emma Jean’s computer and logged in. A few keystrokes later, Marissa was finished.

        “There ya go! All set. Sorry about that. Let me know if you need anything!’ Marissa called as she hustled back down the hall to set up the exam room for the next patient, a border collie named Marv who had a pronounced limp in his back leg.

        Emma Jean fetched her phone and texted Noah.

Emma Jean: Thanks for lunch. And the pep talk. Turns out, it wasn’t my fault after all.

Noah: Anything for you, sunshine. Did you get it all worked out?

Emma Jean: Yes. Marissa fixed it.

Emma Jean: Thanks again. I mean it.

                                                                                                

Noah: Stop thanking me, Em. I meant what I said. Anything for you.

        Emma Jean chewed her bottom lip, trying to decide what to say next.

Emma Jean: Got to get back to work. Talk to you later!

Noah: I’ll pick you up at 6.

Noah: And thanks for finally texting me, sunshine. ;)

She smiled a secret smile to herself as she lowered her phone back into her pocket just as it rang. Thinking it must be Noah, she answered it without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Emma Jean?”

Definitely not Noah. “Speaking.”

“Emma Jean, it’s Deputy Hank Tremont. I’m calling because I have some news, and I wanted you to be aware. We’ve been looking everywhere for your husband, ma’am, but the bastard-” He cleared his throat. “Excuse my language, but it appears that Cody has gone on the run.”

She blinked once. Twice. “On the run?”

“That’s right. A warrant was issued for his arrest plus my office got the restraining order you filed. But we haven’t been able to find him in order to serve him, or more importantly, arrest him, so he’s no longer a threat.”

Emma Jean’s mind swirled with the implications of what the deputy was telling her.

“Emma Jean, are you still with me?” he asked when she’d been quiet for too long.

“Uh, yes. Sorry, I was just thinking about what this means.”

“What it means is that you continue to have Noah Hawkins attached to your hip until we find Cody. Don’t go anywhere alone. Maybe get some pepper spray or a gun, if you’re comfortable with it. Just do me a favor and familiarize yourself with it first. Learn how to handle it to the best of your ability before actually using it.”

“I’m not...I don’t...I don’t want a gun.” Even though she’d lived in Montana all her life, she wasn’t all that comfortable around guns. Montana had incredibly lax laws concerning firearms and almost every household had at least one, but Emma Jean had always been more of a healer and a nurturer. She didn’t much care for anything that could so easily cause such destruction, and it didn’t have anything to do with practicality or politics. She just simply wasn’t interested in owning a gun.

“Right,” Hank muttered. “Well, at least get yourself some pepper spray, just in case. Even if you’re not alone, you can never be too prepared.”

“I, um, okay. Thank you, Deputy.”

“Sorry, I don’t have better news. I’ll keep you updated as best I can, though.”

She expressed her thanks again before ending the call. She was staring at the phone in her hand when the bell over the door rang signaling their first afternoon patient. Taking a deep breath for serenity, she plastered a welcoming smile on her face and dove into work.

Her afternoon flowed much more smoothly than her morning had, despite the call from Deputy Tremont. Being able to access the necessary software made her job a thousand times easier, so she spent her free time between greeting patients and their owners with updating the patient information and filing the paper charts in the appropriate filing cabinet. She felt much better once her inbox was finally cleared.

“Great job today, Emma Jean,” Abel said, striding into the reception area.

She glanced at the clock realizing it was almost time to head out. “Thanks, Abel.”

“I wrapped up early, and this,” he indicated the chart from his last patient he held in his hand, “can wait until morning. Why don’t you head out?”

“Oh, it’s no bother, I can just finish this one up real quick.”

“I don’t doubt your efficiency, but it’s rare that we finish up early around here. In fact, it’s much more likely that office hours run over. So, take advantage of it when you can,” he smiled at her, and once again Emma Jean thanked her lucky stars that she’d landed this job.

“Okay,” she agreed with a chuckle. “If you insist.”

“I do. In fact, I’m the boss, so what I say goes,” he replied with a wink.

Emma Jean was wrapping herself in preparation for stepping out into the frigid December air when Abel spoke again.

“Emma Jean?”

“Yes?” She looked up from knotting her scarf.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

Figuring he was asking about her mini-meltdown just before lunch, she nodded. “Yes. Perfectly fine. Just a silly misunderstanding.” She waved it off.

“Okay,”’ he nodded thoughtfully. “You know, anytime you’re not okay, you can tell me.”

Emma Jean raised her gaze to meet his and swallowed back the emotion that threatened to choke her once again, making her feel like a crybaby. “Thank you,” she rasped, her voice husky with unshed tears.

Her new boss was simply too good to be true, and she was touched that he saw her as a person and not just an employee. She wondered, a bit bitterly, why she hadn’t been able to marry a man like Abel instead of Cody. Then she thought of Noah who was also the best kind of man and one who wanted her yet she couldn’t have him. Life could really be cruel should it choose to be.

***

“So, how was your first day?” Noah asked as soon as they were back in his apartment.

“Overall, it was good. I really like Abel and Marissa.”

“Abel?” Noah asked, frowning.

“Oh, Dr. Fetterman. His name is Abel.”

“I know his name, Ems, I’m just wondering why you’re using it.”

“Excuse me?” Emma Jean tilted her head at his tone. He sounded...jealous. “ Abel ,” she put emphasis on Dr. Fetterman’s given name, “happens to be a nice man. He’s easy to work for and I like doing so. If he wants me to call him by his given name, then I’m going to oblige him.” She ended her declaration with a hand on her hip.

“And what if he wants something else?”

“Excuse me?” she asked again. This time, the hip that propped up her hand jutted out.

“Nothing. Nevermind,” he muttered.

“He doesn’t deserve you thinking so little of him, Noah.”

Noah scrubbed his hands over his face in exasperation. “I don’t think little of him. I just...you’re beautiful and last I knew he was single, so why wouldn’t he be interested?”

“So, just because he’s single that means he has to be attracted to any woman he comes into contact with?” she scoffed.

“No, because he’s single and he’s in contact with you , Emma Jean. A beautiful, smart, kindhearted woman. That’s who any man would be attracted to.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice small. She wasn’t beautiful. Not anymore. Smart, maybe. Kind...well, she knew that was true. But, still, she was no great catch. “Besides, attraction works both ways. Who’s to say that I’m even attracted to him?”

“Are you?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, knowing she was playing with fire and suddenly not caring. “He’s handsome. And kind. I like him.”

“So, that’s a yes,” he practically sneered.

“No, it’s not a yes,” she countered, exasperated. “Being handsome and kind doesn’t automatically equal attraction, Noah. I think Luke is handsome and kind, and I have exactly zero desire to jump his bones.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “So, you’re saying you’re not attracted to Dr. Fetterman?”

“I’m saying there’s no chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” Noah’s voice and face softened and his gaze became lazy as he inched closer to Emma Jean. “You know who does have chemistry?” He swept a thumb over her bottom lip as she stood frozen, unable to resist the tractor beam of sexual tension that pulled them together. “The kind of chemistry that flares in the pit of your gut and spreads like wildfire until your mind, body, and soul are consumed in a supernova of achy need and throbbing want?”

Emma Jean stood transfixed. The air she breathed left her lungs in shallow pants. Heat rose in her face and spread throughout her body until she was sure her panties had melted into a puddle between her feet. She swallowed thickly, unable or perhaps unwilling to answer Noah’s question.

“The kind of chemistry that leads to a weeklong bender of dirty,” he growled, “wet, messy sex on every surface in this apartment?”

She whimpered.

“ That’s right, sunshine. We do. You and me. And when you’re ready, the first place I’m going to have you is over my desk.”

Just when she thought he was going to close the few inches between them and finally kiss her, he dropped his hand from her face and stepped back. If it were possible to die from disappointment, she’d be cold and lifeless on the kitchen floor at that moment.

“I’m going to go grab a shower while you decide what we’re having for dinner,” he said, already on his way to the bathroom. “Anything but pizza!” he called as he rounded the corner.

She stood, locked in place, until she heard the shower turn on. Then she ran to her room. Dinner was going to have to wait. The achy need that Noah had spoken of had taken up residence between her thighs, and she wasn’t going to be able to think of anything else until it was satisfied.