long legs," he said as he bent down to adjust the driver's seat forward. "Porn stars always have long legs."
"And the village idiot always gets the crap beat out of him for not shutting up when he's talking too much."
Emma Jean was not a porn star. Period.
His cousin gave him a sly grin. "Touchy, touchy."
Johnny didn't say another word as he tossed Virg the keys, then got into his SUV. He followed the sporty red car over to Emma's house, tapped the horn briefly to let her know they'd arrived and waited while Virgil sauntered down the driveway.
"You left the keys in the sun visor?" he asked as Virg opened the passenger side door.
His cousin nodded. "I can always mosey on up to the front door and hand them over to her. Maybe even step in for a visit."
"Get in the car, Virg." Johnny frowned, recognizing his cousin's amused expression. Virgil was ragging on him. Which meant Johnny hadn't been very discreet about his interest in Emma. Something he'd have to remedy immediately.
Virgil shrugged, then hoisted himself into the SUV. "She still as pretty as she was back in high school?"
"Prettier," Johnny admitted.
Emma Jean as a teenager had been just about the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. She'd been a sunshiny angel, in looks and personality. But now, she was a woman. She was an all-grown, all-seductive, all-knowing female. Her eyes held knowledge now. Knowledge, and challenge. Her body was riper, more inviting. Her face smoother and less vulnerable, yet still perfectly angled with that creamy complexion and dimpled smile.
Pretty was insipid, like violets and rainbows and sappy crap like that. Pretty didn't come close to describing the woman Emma had become. Now she was stunning.
Virg continued. "And you rescued her again, huh? Picked her up and carried her on outta there like the Prince Charming you played on prom night?"
His cousin had been a junior at Joyful High School and had attended the infamous prom. No way could Johnny feign ignorance. "Can we not talk about this?"
"Sure," Virgil said with a chuckle. "Wish I'da seen her, though. I bet I could place her."
Almost afraid to ask, Johnny said, "What do you mean?"
"Well," Virgil said, with a raised brow that warned he was intentionally going to say something provoking. "Minnie did get me that 'special' movie subscription for our anniversary. If I see Emma Jean, maybe I'll recognize her from Banging Private Ryan , or Lord of the Cock Rings ."
Johnny's hands tightened on the steering wheel until they went white. When he finally trusted himself to speak, he said, "Virg, another word and you're never gonna give Minnie those kids she wants. You hear me? You say one more thing about Emma Jean Frasier and I swear to God you'll be eating your balls for breakfast."
----
CHAPTER FIVE
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There was nothing to eat for breakfast. The fruit from the basket Mayor Boyd had left had served as late lunch, dinner and midnight snack last night. This morning, though, rejuvenated after a good night's sleep in her old bed, Emma was starving.
She'd had enough money to buy coffee and necessities at the store yesterday, which was why she'd stopped. Her shopping had obviously been interrupted. So today she was desperate. She wasn't picky—lord knew she wouldn't be getting her standard double mocha cappuccino from her favorite trendy little coffee shop on Fifth Avenue anytime soon. Right now, though, she'd give her right arm for a cup of Maxwell House. Instant.
A quick glance through her grandmother's pantry revealed a few dusty old cans of vegetables, but nothing that could pass for caffeine. She needed something strong to wash down the aspirin she intended to take for her still slightly sore ankle.
Then she spied the big coffee can on the top shelf of the pantry, nearly hidden behind a spice rack. Saying a quick prayer that it was sealed, she stood up on tiptoe. Emma shifted to keep her weight off her sore foot as she reached for it, balancing herself on her
"And the village idiot always gets the crap beat out of him for not shutting up when he's talking too much."
Emma Jean was not a porn star. Period.
His cousin gave him a sly grin. "Touchy, touchy."
Johnny didn't say another word as he tossed Virg the keys, then got into his SUV. He followed the sporty red car over to Emma's house, tapped the horn briefly to let her know they'd arrived and waited while Virgil sauntered down the driveway.
"You left the keys in the sun visor?" he asked as Virg opened the passenger side door.
His cousin nodded. "I can always mosey on up to the front door and hand them over to her. Maybe even step in for a visit."
"Get in the car, Virg." Johnny frowned, recognizing his cousin's amused expression. Virgil was ragging on him. Which meant Johnny hadn't been very discreet about his interest in Emma. Something he'd have to remedy immediately.
Virgil shrugged, then hoisted himself into the SUV. "She still as pretty as she was back in high school?"
"Prettier," Johnny admitted.
Emma Jean as a teenager had been just about the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. She'd been a sunshiny angel, in looks and personality. But now, she was a woman. She was an all-grown, all-seductive, all-knowing female. Her eyes held knowledge now. Knowledge, and challenge. Her body was riper, more inviting. Her face smoother and less vulnerable, yet still perfectly angled with that creamy complexion and dimpled smile.
Pretty was insipid, like violets and rainbows and sappy crap like that. Pretty didn't come close to describing the woman Emma had become. Now she was stunning.
Virg continued. "And you rescued her again, huh? Picked her up and carried her on outta there like the Prince Charming you played on prom night?"
His cousin had been a junior at Joyful High School and had attended the infamous prom. No way could Johnny feign ignorance. "Can we not talk about this?"
"Sure," Virgil said with a chuckle. "Wish I'da seen her, though. I bet I could place her."
Almost afraid to ask, Johnny said, "What do you mean?"
"Well," Virgil said, with a raised brow that warned he was intentionally going to say something provoking. "Minnie did get me that 'special' movie subscription for our anniversary. If I see Emma Jean, maybe I'll recognize her from Banging Private Ryan , or Lord of the Cock Rings ."
Johnny's hands tightened on the steering wheel until they went white. When he finally trusted himself to speak, he said, "Virg, another word and you're never gonna give Minnie those kids she wants. You hear me? You say one more thing about Emma Jean Frasier and I swear to God you'll be eating your balls for breakfast."
----
CHAPTER FIVE
Previous Top Next
There was nothing to eat for breakfast. The fruit from the basket Mayor Boyd had left had served as late lunch, dinner and midnight snack last night. This morning, though, rejuvenated after a good night's sleep in her old bed, Emma was starving.
She'd had enough money to buy coffee and necessities at the store yesterday, which was why she'd stopped. Her shopping had obviously been interrupted. So today she was desperate. She wasn't picky—lord knew she wouldn't be getting her standard double mocha cappuccino from her favorite trendy little coffee shop on Fifth Avenue anytime soon. Right now, though, she'd give her right arm for a cup of Maxwell House. Instant.
A quick glance through her grandmother's pantry revealed a few dusty old cans of vegetables, but nothing that could pass for caffeine. She needed something strong to wash down the aspirin she intended to take for her still slightly sore ankle.
Then she spied the big coffee can on the top shelf of the pantry, nearly hidden behind a spice rack. Saying a quick prayer that it was sealed, she stood up on tiptoe. Emma shifted to keep her weight off her sore foot as she reached for it, balancing herself on her
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