You guys are awesome with your comments and kudos/favorites/follows. I'm overwhelmed by the good feelings for this story. While my life is still in a bit of chaos from the move. I have unpacked my cardboard Captain Hook, the chargers for my phone and laptop, and found a place to sit and write when I can't unpack any more. I hope you like this chapter. There is some angst coming soon, but angst isn't much good if our couple doesn't have something to fight for in the end. Enjoy!
Killian tripped over the hassock in front of his favorite chair as he arrived back at his apartment, feeling a bit dazed and like a fool. There was nothing easy about dating Emma Swan, he decided on the drive back after saying goodnight to the blonde woman. That didn't mean he didn't want to date her. There was nothing further from the truth from that. He thought about her so much that he was beginning to believe he may have accidentally called half of the sales staff by her name. His heart beat so wildly that he quite often felt like he might have to see a cardiologist any time he saw someone who vaguely resembled her. And it only grew worse in her presence when he had to restrain himself from taking her on any available surface or when she kissed him with the softest lips.
"You're a sodding fool," he said, hopping on one foot to save himself the pain of walking on stubbed toes. He was sure his downstairs neighbor loved that sound.
He peeled off his clothing and threw himself on the bed, trying to remember why he had thought it so important to not give in to his baser needs. That was becoming harder to understand even with all his reasoning at not rushing or ruining what he was even more sure could be something better than a fling or a one night stand.
Emma had revealed more of herself by describing her brokenness than she ever could have by stripping out of her clothing and performing any of the dozens of sexual acts he had imagined since meeting her. He didn't deny that it had hurt to see and hear her sounding so fragile and yet sure that he would hurt her in the same way that someone must have hurt her in the past. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't, but who would not be wary.
"She may look like she's made of steel, but that steel is hiding a fragility that she has spent a lifetime concealing from people who might hurt her," David had said to him before they parted ways at Granny's. Killian could certainly believe it. There were chinks in the armor that gave him a glimpse of the woman she truly was, but that did not scare him. It intrigued him and made him want to prove to her that it was okay to let him in.
Then there was the whole physical attraction to her. He'd be a bloody fool to not admit that he was drawn to her at first because she was beautiful. Her long blonde hair and even longer legs had attracted his eye from the moment she sat down. She had not been one of those affected little beauties, he had noticed right away. She had drank cheap beer and ignored the conversations around her in favor of the muted television. He had noticed the rest, the perfect way her ass filled out the tight jeans and the way her breasts rounded out the sweater she wore. But the thing that had drawn him in was the smile on her lips. He had seen it shine back at him with a mixture of curiosity, annoyance, and welcome that had made him want to say something to make it appear again.
His apartment was unlike hers in many ways. While it too was small and cramped, he had few photographs or mementos to remind him of his past. She had framed pictures with friends, certificates, newspaper articles about her accomplishments, and ticket stubs from concerts. He'd seen few signs from her childhood, but he knew that was a closely guarded set of secrets that he was not trusted enough with at the moment. Even her furniture seemed to tell a story while his was showroom style from the local furniture store. He had little doubt that her bed was the same way with a combination of her practical side and the warmth that she craved. He could picture her there on buttery soft sheets with her hands twisting the material and her hair splayed out on a pillow. Her naked body would be glowing in the light, a thin sheen of sweat forming over her flushed skin.
Running a hand over his face, he groaned. Even furniture was not safe to think about with her.
He was aware that he was fighting a losing battle and only hoped he could make it through an evening with her without making an utter fool of himself. As it stood, he was beginning to worry that once she did weaken his defenses, the whole even might be too soon over with his state of being.
***AAA***
Ruby looked way too cheerful that Saturday morning as she pounded a booted foot on Emma's door with her hands wrapped around two cups of coffee. The smile on her face was not returned as a bleary eyed Emma pried open the door and leaned her tousled head against the frame. "It's 5:30," she muttered. "And you're banging on my door."
"And you promised to call after your date last night," Ruby said impatiently. "I checked the parking lot. He's not here so open up and let me in. I want to talk."
"I had 20 minutes before my alarm," Emma muttered, opening the door despite her internal voices telling her it was a bad idea. "You suck as a friend. Friends let friends sleep."
"Friends bring coffee," Ruby responded, sauntering into the kitchen and setting the two cups down before shimmying out of her jacket. "You would have screened my calls and ignored my texts. I've already been insulted by you taking Mary Margaret with you shopping. Can I please have my girl time now or are you going to be an obstinate bitch about this?"
Emma groaned, following her friend into the kitchen as she grabbed her cup and proceeded to doctor it up like she wanted. "You have a few minutes, but I have to tell you that it will take that long for the coffee to kick in and for me to form a coherent sentence."
"So…" Ruby said, plopping herself on the chair in the living room and curling her legs under her. "Third date? How did it go?" She sounded way too cheerful for such an early morning.
Emma sipped slowly on her drink and wondered just how much to tell the dark haired woman. Ruby was unlikely to understand her trepidation, but as friends she would certainly try. "He's a pretty great guy," Emma mentioned evasively. "Last night was no different. He tried to be understanding and patient despite all my quirks."
"I already knew that he was certainly a hottie," Ruby said. "He's adorable and sexy at the same time. But tell me about where you went. What did he wear? How good of a kisser is he? Details girl!"
Emma's white flannel pajamas with the thin blue strips felt rumpled compared to Ruby's leather pants and satiny red shirt. "He's very talented in that area," Emma again said in her most evasive tone. "Ruby, I think the fact that I went out with him three times should be proof enough for you."
"But where is he?" Ruby asked, her eyebrows raising practically to her hairline. "I mean three dates, Emma. I know you're not as adventurous as me, but seriously. Are you turning into Mary Margaret? Are you waiting for a ring or something? Did you read some book about waiting for sex makes it better?"
Laughing nervously, Emma pictured the goodbye from earlier that morning. She'd only managed to throw herself into bed about three hours before Ruby's loud awakening knock. She and Killian had stood at her door again with their mouths and bodies fused together. Despite the near breakdown of emotions she had trotted out in front of him, she still found herself making out with him like an oversexed teenager. And yet again he had denied her when she invited him inside. This time he told her that he wasn't intending to rush through such a thing with her.
"I intend to take my time with you, love," he had said, his mouth so close to her ear that she wondered if he could hear what felt like her heart thumping in her head. "I'm not planning to cut things short because of an alarm clock or a work schedule."
Emma did not repeat his words completely or even how she had landed so hard against the door with the next kiss that she was sure her apartment number was imprinted on the back of her head. She threw in an assurance that she was not just considering the physical side of her relationship with him.
Ruby feigned a teary eyed expression, waving a hand in front of her face in a mocking way to display her surprise. Her foray into the surprised expression did not last long before she giggled. "You really like him, don't you?"
"I don't know," Emma said, scrunching up her face.
There was a satisfied huff from Ruby as she laid down her cup and hugged herself. "You know I'm not big on the whole dating the same guy thing and doing the Mary Margaret dance of commitment, but I see the appeal. He's more than hot, Emma. And you like him. I think that's great. If I found a guy I could stomach after more than a few hours, I might consider…"
There was another groan. "All I'm considering right now is how to get out of this whole double date with the perfect couple," she said. "David and Mary Margaret are getting pretty insistent."
Ruby shrugged. "Just go with it. Mary Margaret will make miniature hamburgers or something else cute and David gets to try out that fatherly advice he loves to spout when it comes to you. I think it should do them good. And believe me, if Killian sticks around with those two in your life, you're golden. He stuck around after meeting me, didn't he?"
***AAA***
"A 70-footer and she's a beauty," the company's sales manager, Eric, said to Killian later that morning as they walked down the dock. "I'd buy her if I could afford her."
Killian whistled low at the sight of the boat they were discussing. It gleamed in the autumn sunlight, the gentle waves lapping around the white vessel. He couldn't help but imagine owning such a boat himself, a sunset sail with Emma, holding her as the sky turned shades of pink and orange and the taste of the salty sea air on her lips as he kissed her. "A few more sales and you should be able to, mate," Killian said, hoping that Eric did not see the glow in his own eyes. "You pulled a good commission on that sale last week."
"I did, but I also have Ariel and that damn house we're trying to build. Don't ever try to build your own house. Contractors will eat you alive with extra costs. Did you know that there are luxury doorknobs? I didn't until Ariel decided that we had to go with the ergonomically correct versions. Each of them run at least $50 more a piece. That whole damn house is full of doorknobs." The dark haired man shook his head mournfully. "That's where all my money is going right now."
Killian chuckled at the idea that his friend and co-worker was so whipped by his red headed fiancé. Making a whip sound and gesture, Killian sauntered down the dock a bit farther. "I'm sure the house will be quite the showplace by the time you guys are through with it."
Eric grumbled about wanting a simple home and not some castle, but their conversation turned to the request by the sheriff and his father for both the new rescue boat and a place to hold a fundraising party. "Qualifying isn't for another few days, but I guess he wants to get a jump on things," Eric said disdainfully. "What if he doesn't even have any competition? Is this even worth it?"
"I don't pretend to understand politics," Killian answered. "But I think I have an idea for one that can be secured for the party. I'm actually supposed to have dinner with the sheriff tonight."
That news did not seem to surprise Eric who nodded and said that he would trust Killian to make a deal that the Nolans could not refuse. "I don't care who you have dinner with as long as you close the deal. We can't afford not to get that sale."
***AAA***
Emma watched Graham out of the corner of her eye, seeing the way he hovered just beside her desk as David shoved a few papers in his desk drawer and locked it as he did every day before he left. David gave Emma a quick smile and told her that he would see her later at dinner, promising that Mary Margaret had big plans for this meal and to bring her appetite.
"Dinner with the boss?" Graham asked as soon as the sandy haired sheriff had left. "I thought you were vehemently opposed to socialization outside of work."
Emma frowned as she shook an envelope and let the documents fall out onto her desk. "They invited me to have dinner to get to know this guy I've been kind of seeing," she said, twisting around the papers to make sure they faced the same direction. "It's just a thing."
"So there is a guy," he said smugly, folding his arms behind his head as he sat down in the chair and let his long legs cross in front of him. He appeared the picture of relaxation and calmness compared to her harried scouring of the papers.
She shot him a dismissive look. "I think we've established that there is a guy," she said, thinking of Robin's admission that there had been talk. "But it seems a bit much for him to be subjected to David and Mary Margaret at this stage. I told her that."
"And when that didn't work?" Graham asked, amusement evident in his tone. He had come head to head with the teacher before, losing to the battle of wills with the woman.
"She started planning the menu and I'm bringing the wine," Emma muttered.
He didn't laugh, but his smile was one of pure amusement. "So about those plans for transferring," he said awkwardly. She had not asked him about his hopes for a more exciting future, but he was obviously thinking about it. "I have made a decision."
The least she could do, she thought, was drop her papers to fully focus on his statement. She did that, turning in her seat to face him. "What decision is that?"
"I'm going to run for sheriff. Against David."
"You're going to what?" Emma asked, her jaw dropping from the news. Opposition for David's job was a natural thing, but she had always assumed that it would come in the form of an outside opponent, not an internal one. How were they supposed to work together in the weeks leading to the election? This was madness. "Is that a good idea?"
He sighed, dropping her gaze as he stared at his boots that needed relacing. "I know it will be awkward, but damn it I need a change. I need a challenge. I can't live like this, Emma. I'm floundering here and I have to do something. Maybe this is it. Maybe I'm meant for this."
"If you're looking for a challenge then start a new hobby or buy a crossword puzzle book. Don't run for public office. When I'm bored I don't run for mayor. I simply go do something."
He let out a low growl as he curled forward to rest his hands on his legs. "I like David," he said as though that somehow made this announcement less of a big deal. "I have enjoyed working for him, but I think I'm better qualified. He's doing this because of his dad. He doesn't truly want to be…"
"David's a good sheriff," Emma protested, not wanting to hear anything against the man she considered to be a brother. "He's got the backing of the whole town. Why would you think you could beat him?"
"I have to try," Graham said. "I need to do this. I hoped you would understand."
***AAA***
"Love?" Killian called out from the door of her apartment. "Are you in there?"
Emma had left her door open after attempting to bake cookies for that evening's get together. She wasn't much of a baker, opting to get the prepackaged dough rather than mix the ingredients herself. However, she had also lost track of the time and failed to remove them from the oven before the small space filled with smoke and she had to open the windows and doors to avoid choking.
"You're early," she said, her arms up over her head as she waved a folded magazine in front of the smoke detector. "Like three hours?"
He blinked in her direction. "I was down the street and thought I might see if you wanted me to pick up the wine or anything for tonight, but you didn't answer your phone." Taking a step forward, he grabbed her wrist and removed the folded magazine to take over the fanning. He took back over "I see now that you were quite busy."
Emma gave him an appreciative smile and went to pull an oscillating fan she had acquired at some point in her life out of a cabinet. Attempting to redirect the smoke, she grinned at Killian's encouragement and direction to point it a little to the left or upward. "I guess you're grateful that I'm not making dinner tonight."
"I think I might have found one of those flaws you were worried about," he laughed. The fan seemed to help as the smoke dissipated though the stench of the burned cookies remained. Lowering his arm, he reached over to rub his now sore shoulder. "Though you may have been going for a blackened dish?"
"I was making chocolate chip cookies," she said sheepishly. She was standing over her trash can scraping the burnt remnants from the pan. "I sort of forgot about them."
"I see," he said looking at the pan and back at the smoke detector. "You might want to just throw out the pan. I believe it might be more than a little singed there."
She sighed, looking at the charred mess that she was desperately scraping at with a metal spatula. "I suppose so. I swear I am a better cook than this." She dropped the pan into her trashcan with a loud clatter and wiped her hands on the towel by her sink.
"I have no doubts that you can succeed at anything you attempt, love," he said with a smirk. "You don't strike me as someone who likes to fail."
She considered that for a moment. "Does anyone like to fail?"
"I suppose that is a silly saying." Tossing her magazine on the table, he held out his hand to her and pulled her close to him. "I meant to say hello in a better way than calling out to you amid the smoke, love." He brushed his lips over hers delicately. "Hello, Swan."
She laughed, her palms flat on his chest. "Hello to you too." Turning her head toward the kitchen, she smiled. "I did buy the wine. We just don't have a dessert other than a store bought cake."
"That sounds lovely to me. Perhaps we might take a walk or something since we have a bit of time?"
Her nose wrinkled with the scent of the burnt cookies. "I'd like that, but I should probably stay here and air this place out. I don't want to leave with all my windows and the door open. Besides I need to figure out what I'm wearing tonight. I know Mary Margaret wants everything to be perfect, including my shoes matching my outfit."
Killian cast his eyes downward, not lifting his hands from her hips. "I think you look rather fetching like this, but I do suppose Ms. Blanchard would require something more formal?"
She was wearing her most comfortable jeans and an off white sweater that scooped down around her shoulders slightly. Her polka dotted socks were without shoes as she stood on her toes to be at a closer height to him. "I don't think she would appreciate this for one of her dinner. Speaking of which, is this what you're wearing?"
"I have my clothes in the back of my jeep, love," he said, lowering his mouth to hers for another quick kiss, which turned into two more. "I came prepared."
"Of course you did," she laughed lightly. His body swayed into hers, hands at her waist as he pulled her even closer. "You could stay. I mean if you wanted to get ready here. We could hang out for a bit, if you can live with the smoke and burnt cookies." She suddenly appeared quite shy with the request that he might stay. The apartment felt quite small and the concept of him staying there to change clothes felt unsettling to her.
"The smoke is not that bad. So it sounds like an invitation I couldn't refuse," he declared, "but only if you…"
"I insist," she said, pushing that voice inside her head down a bit farther. "I want you to stay."
It was only the second time that he had been in her apartment though she had invited him in a few more times than that. So far he was more acquainted with her hallway than with the actual dwelling. She gave him a small tour though there was not much point since you could stand in the center of the room and point to all the highlights. Still he followed along as if she were a docent in a museum.
Just as he thought, her bedroom was a mixture of eclectic comfort that he was beginning to see as something just like her. Even with the smoky scent in the room, he could detect lavender which he had already come to associate with her as well as the coconut scent of her hair. She folded her fingers with his and tugged a bit on his hand.
"I hope you don't think of this as some seductive or anything, but the smoke is less in here," She said, casting a glance around the room that barely fit her bed and a dresser. "I was thinking we could maybe hang out in here."
He was charmed that she seemed almost hesitant and shy about the invitation, something he felt did not come naturally to her. "Sounds like a good plan, love," he said. "Though I have had a few thoughts about getting you on this bed."
She rolled her eyes and let go of his hand to settle herself against the quilted pillows on her headboard. "I doubt my practically burning down my apartment was part of your fantasy," she said, blushing as she realized she was actually having a conversation with the man about his fantasies about her.
"Smoke as an aphrodisiac?" he queried, his eyebrows raising. However, he made no direct move at her, settling in a fashion much like hers on the opposite side of the bed. He couldn't help but glance around for a clue into the inner sanctum of Emma Swan, but somehow the framed wallpaper samples and floral motif of the quilt did not seem to be completely in line with her sensibilities. He must have been easy to read.
"Mary Margaret decorated my bedroom," she admitted, crossing her polka dotted feet at the ankles. "I had a mattress on the floor and a television on a milk crate. She complained. I relented. She went flower power nuts." Emma laughed. "I kind of like it."
"It seems like a room for a princess," he said, leaning toward her and kissing the tip of her nose affectionately. "Quite a bit different than my own."
She swatted at her nose as though his kiss had tickled it. "I don't think you need room for a princess. But you have me curious. Black satin sheets? Hidden speakers and soft lighting?"
He chuckled. "Is that what you imagine, love? You picture me as a 1970s pimp?" His brows waggled in a teasing expression as she backtracked and tried to say that she had in no way imagined his bedroom or being there with him. "I understand, darling."
She grinned as he lowered his lips toward her, the few inches seeming to take way too long. Just as he hovered above her mouth, he moved sharply to the left and brushed against her cheek toward her ear. She breathed in protest of missing his kiss, but melted a bit at his attentions. She shifted to better face him, one hand resting on his chest with her fingers making tracings over his shirt. Her other fingers were digging into his thick dark hair, almost guiding his mouth down her neck. The feel of her beneath his lips was almost more than he could take, pulling away to look at her he saw her eyes shining back with a happy and yet aroused glow.
He ran his thumb along her bottom lip and focused on it as he waited for her to lean in before he took it tenderly between his. Their shared several gentle pecks until she parted her lips searching. Slowly their tongues touched the gentle movements began to give way to hungry open kisses. They pushed the rest of their bodies as close together as possible.
She ran her hands through his hair feeling his soft lips trail down her neck. She moaned at hearing his breathing increase. She tilted her head down finding his earlobe and sending his nerves on a pleasurable edge. His hands dug into her hair pulling her mouth until their lips met again. He held her there enjoying her aggressive laps at his lips that were driving him crazy. Finally their lips slid apart and Emma's head came to rest on his heart for a moment.
Her phone chirped and she groaned with frustration. "I'm still on call," she said, excusing herself as she reached blindly behind her for the offending device. "Sorry." Her hand slapped and skimmed on the on the narrow table beside her bed, almost upsetting both the lamp and alarm clock. Her right arm was still looped around his shoulders and fingers playing lazily with the tufts of hair on the back of his head. Her left hand came into contact with her phone, but the success was short lived as she sent it falling to the floor. "Shit!"
He chuckled at her exclamation and pulled her to him, tucking her into his arms. "I've got it," he said, rolling them so that she landed on her back with an oomph as he held himself over her on one hand and plucked the phone from the floor with the other. Smiling proudly, he held the phone toward her. "Your phone?"
She giggled at his gratified expression and held the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
He considered rolling back away from her and giving her a moment to handle whatever business was required on the other end of the line. That would be the smart thing to do, the best way to stop before he went too far for his willpower. However, the way she craned her neck back to look at the numbers on her alarm clock was just too inviting and he could not help returning his mouth back to her silken skin there. If there was any doubt as to the effect he was having on her, the hitch in her breath and tension in her voice as she continued her conversation were all too revealing to him. He skimmed his hand along the edge of her sweater, fingertips coming into contact with the smooth skin above the waist of her jeans. To his happy surprise, she shifted herself to give him better access and said a quick goodbye to the other person before dropping the phone back to the rug covered floor.
"You," she said accusingly, tugging his head back up away from her, "are entirely too distracting."
He smirked at her. "Are you complaining?"
"No," she said softly. "But I take it that you didn't listen to my end conversation." She cupped her hand on the side of his face in a gesture that was both comforting and stopped him from returning to his earlier activities. "That was our hosts tonight. Mary Margaret needs me to pick up something."
His blue eyes shut momentarily. "And I suppose it is needed immediately?"
"Aye," she said in her best imitation of him that made him chuckle. "Come on. We've got to get ready and head on over with cornmeal and eggs."
"Or," he said, not moving from her and his hand splayed against her bare stomach, "we could order a pizza for them and stay here?"
Her other hand pushed at his chest to roll him off of her with an inelegant grunt. "You agreed to this and I had no choice about it myself." She slid off the bed. "I'm going to take a shower. You go get those clothes out of your jeep."
"You tempt me with the idea of you naked in the shower and I'm supposed to walk to my jeep without everyone knowing my business?" He groaned again as she bent to her lowest drawer, giving him a tantalizing view. "You're trying to kill me."
She removed a fresh towel and grinned over her shoulder. "Well, if you survive dinner, we might have to see if we can do something about that."
Thoughts?