She leaned her elbows on the desk and held her head a couple days later. "I can't." The hundreds of numbers on the laptop screen laughed at her, almost as loud as the files scattered around the desk and floor.
Jason's hand appeared on the edge of the desk and his weight made the back of her chair creak as he leaned over.
Dropping her hands, she flopped back in the chair but didn't look up being his mouth still couldn't tolerate the pressure of wearing a mask. "I have to start over going backwards."
"Backwards? Isn't that going to be harder?" His hand disappeared from the desk for a moment and reappeared holding a handkerchief. At least with the swelling reduced, he only needed to wipe his mouth every few minutes.
"I've worked my way to the present, and I'm not getting far. I've figured out how two hundred thousand was stolen, but that's it. There's something obvious I'm not seeing." She ran her hands over her face.
"Sweetheart, a quarter million is good enough to take to the FBI for them to work on this, and enough to arrest whoever is doing it. Maybe they'll talk," he said, his words much clearer than a couple days ago. He rested a hand on her back.
She shook her head. "It's not tight enough. You could still be implicated, and there are about fifty five people who are possible culprits." Rubbing her temples, she stared down at the papers scattered across the desk.
"Emma, you've done enough and built a strong case. Don't pressure yourself like this." He rubbed her shoulders, worry straining his voice.
There was a knock on the study door. "Emma?" her mom called around the cracked open door.
"She seems nervous to come into a room unannounced since that night she saw me." Jason's hands released her shoulders.
"She simply feels guilty, Jason."
"Come in." He drew the curtains in the back of the room and sat in a chair in the corner.
She threw him a look and sighed. There was no need for him to sit in the back in the dark. He cocked an eyebrow in challenge. "You drive me insane," she mumbled just as her mom walked in. Then she turned her head to her mom. "How did the meeting with the lawyer go?"
Her mom smiled. "She says she thinks we'll get it all, plus reimbursed for her fees and 'emotional distress.'"
"That's wonderful, Mom." She stood and hugged her.
"I want to give you half when it comes."
She shook her head. "No, that's your money. You need it for the house, retirement, and-"
"No. If we get what she thinks, it'll be more than I'll need. They'll still be enough to give you a big wedding and spoil the grandbabies." A smile lit up her mom's face, and she dabbed at her eyes.
It made her heart ache, and she looked away for a moment. Her mom didn't know about Jason's reluctance for a family. What if he remained strongly opposed? How could she give up babies or the man she loved?
"Your dad would've wanted to throw you a grand wedding and..." Her voice trailed away when she started crying.
"Mom, he'll be there." Then she started crying too.
The chair creaked when Jason shifted a couple times as if distressed by the tears but hesitant to come over.
Her mom seemed to remember he was in the room and turned to look at him in the shadows. "Sorry. Thank you for recommending the lawyer and loaning us the money. I'll repay you-"
He held up a hand. "It's not necessary." His words came out a little slow as if trying to deliver as proper annunciation as he could. Then he quickly wiped the corner of his mouth that faced away from them.
"It was very kind of you, and I want to pay it back." Her mom wrung her hands. "About the other night, I'm so sorry."
He shook his head. "Don't give it a second thought. I should have explained better what to expect. I've been sticking to my room and Emma's office here until I can tolerate a mask again, so you're free to wander at your leisure."
"No, it's your house. You should be free to go where you want."
She bit her lip. They both felt bad and tried to avoid each other to prevent more hurt feelings, only compounding the hurt feelings. "Everybody stop." She held out her hands. "You feel bad that you reacted," she said to her mom. Then she looked at Jason. "You feel bad you startled her." She looked at both of them. "Everybody feels bad." Setting a hand on her chest, she looked at him. "I should feel bad that I'm the only one who hasn't seen your face, the reason why you can't just wander the house unguarded."
He opened his mouth.
She held up a hand. "I'm not feeling bad because you aren't ready for me to see, so don't start." Then she looked from one to the other on each side of her. "You two talk this out. I say you're both making this way too complicated, and you both should just walk around wherever you want."
"Amen," Jason said with a chuckle. Her mom smiled and then walked over to him.
She slipped out to give them a moment and so Jason wouldn't feel as tense trying to hide his face from both of them. Prince trotted down the staircase with a wad of socks in his mouth, his tail beating a hundred miles a minute. He sat before her, proudly displaying his treasures. Sitting on the bottom step, she started extracting the socks from Prince's jam packed mouth. One sock, two, three, four, five...
"I want you to feel at home to go where you wish," Jason said to her mom. "I should have explained what to expect if-"
"Now stop it," her mom cut in with that motherly tone. "It's not your fault. I couldn't sleep and wandered to the arboretum. I screamed in part from being scared of running into someone when I didn't expect it at night, and in part because I didn't recognize who was carrying Emma."
He remained silent for a moment. "But my face also scared you."
"Jason, don't judge Emma's reaction based on mine."
"You're evading my question, Becky," he countered in a patient tone.
"Emma gets her stubborness from me, and I'm not going to answer that." Then her mom's voice softened. "Come now, don't hide from me. You're becoming like family these last couple weeks. Emma's father wouldn't stop talking about you after you left. He was so happy Emma is with a good man like you. You shouldn't let scars be a barrier between you and her. She has a big heart and will see past them."
Worry etched his voice. "It's not her heart that I question. It's what she's been through. She fears men, Becky. It wouldn't take much imagination for her to fear me if she sees my face."
"I know. She told me about the incident when she thought you were him." Her mom seemed so heartbroken. "I think this new therapist she met with yesterday will help."
He sighed. "I hope so. I don't think it's wise to let her see my face at this point in time, though. Stevens and Ms. Van Hoodie have only seen my face because I needed help changing bandages after plastic surgeries. It took two surgeries a month for three months before I'd let Stevens help. I waited until an appearance more resembling a human a year ago until I let Ms. Van Hoodie see. I still keep to the shadows as much as possible for them. It's nothing against you personally, it's just hard to let anyone see me. It's hard for people to look at too." The chair creaked.
"Then let me make a proposal. You seem to trust Emma to not look but be in the same room. That can be how we handle it for the time being over the next couple days until I go home, which has nothing to do with this. I just miss the memories and it's where Emma grew up."
"Alright. We can try it until you go home," he agreed.
She smiled and scratched Prince's head. Jason would come to trust them in time.
Another couple days later, he strode into the kitchen wearing the ski mask, black sweats, and tennis shoes when they cleared breakfast. The mask had a bit more of the eyehole cut out.
"Is your mouth feeling better?" She blinked. It must be for him to wear the mask. Then she set the dishes in the sink. "Are you going jogging or something?"
He leaned his hands on the island counter and his teeth glinted in a smile. "You're going to learn some self-defense."
Her eyebrows shot up. "You're not up for that kind of activity yet. If I bump you're mouth, you're going to be gushing blood."
"We won't get that rough this time."
"This time?" She set her hands on her hips.
"You can't learn everything in one day. Plus, I'll need some time to recover after you beat me up."
Her mom smiled. "Can't get a better teacher than a Seal, Emma."
"Do you want to come, Becky? Ms. Van Hoodie took a lesson before she cried foul."
"Oh, goodness, no. Go teach Emma." Her mom blushed and put the milk in the fridge.
He turned his attention to her. "Alright, princess, it's just you and me." He approached and scooped her up to sling her over his shoulder.
"Jason! Put me down." She pushed on his back to not be upside down. "I'm not going to beat you up when you're still healing! And I have to help Mom finish packing for going home tonight." She looked at everyone for help as he toted her out of the kitchen.
Her mom, Trudy, and Pete simply grinned and waved.
"Traitors!" she declared.
He gave her bottom a soft swat when they turned the corner into the foyer. "Damn, your ass looks good in these jeans." Then he rubbed a hand over the round part of a cheek.
Her jaw dropped and she swatted his hand away, grabbing the back of his sweatshirt to shove herself upright as best she could. "Don't touch my bottom," she huffed, half enjoying this playful dominant side of him but a tad irritated by the manhandling.
His stride to the stairs didn't break pace. "Alright." Something in his voice sounded too light and mischevious. His hand shoved between her thighs to rub and press up simultaneously, creating warm friction that made her gasp in pleasure and surprise. "That's my girl," he replied, sounding pleased. Then he swung her down into his arms and took the stairs two at a time.
Her heart raced. Before she collected her thoughts to protest, he slipped into the first bedroom and kicked the door closed. He dropped onto the bed and straddled her over him. "I'm so hard, I can't possibly wrestle with you before getting this out of my system." Then he laid back and grasped her hips tight in his hands. He rocked her along the length of him straining under the sweatpants, and his eye rolled back in pleasure.
Biting her lip, she panted softly from the delicious friction, but mostly from his uncharacteristic demand for pleasure. Her heart thundered and her hands slid under his shirt to the burning heat of his hard muscles. Sexual tension coiled in him.
"Oh god, Emma. This isn't proper at all. But I've been watching you parade around in those jeans for a week and not able to do a damn thing about it." He rolled her over and climbed on top, his breathing harsh and fast. Capturing her wrists, he held them down on each side of her head and pressed his hips between her thighs. "May I?" His body trembled, but he waited for her answer.
Her thighs wrapped around him and rocked in response, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Be rough with me, Jay."
He gasped and then his voice quivered with need. "I respect you. If you get scared-"
Too much chivalry was his downfall. She clamped her thighs around him and rubbed hard, her head falling back with desire.
A choked cry of pleasure escaped him. He pulled her to her feet and turned her around. Wrapping an arm around her middle, his arousal pressed against the left curve of her bottom. Then his other hand cupped around between her legs and rubbed as he thrusted, his arm serving as her strong brace.
She gasped and grabbed the bedpost, raising onto her toes at the intensity of the pleasure. A woman shouldn't have much sexual interest in the middle of her period, but her desire had awoken at his touch. Something didn't feel right, though. It was too impersonal, too much about sex. The desire started to fade. Something was missing that made his touches so safe.
"Emma," he choked and released her waist to squeeze her hip. His rapid pants brushed hot over her neck. "No," he gasped. "Not like this...Close your eyes."
She did, and he lifted her onto his hips. She held onto his warm, thick bare shoulders as he shifted to press her against the wall. The shirt was gone. He nuzzled her neck, although still unable to kiss. The mask was gone. Something rough brushed her neck. Gauze. He must have the gauze taped on the side of his mouth.
This. This intimacy was what had been missing. It went from sex to making love at the flip of a switch. She held him tight, soft whimpers breaking the silence as desire returned.
His arousal thrusted against her. The thundering of his heart slammed against her breast. "I love you," he panted and grabbed her bottom with urgency.
"I love you." There was a fever about him, as if not wanting to find release without her. "I can't, I have cramps."
"Sorry," he panted and started to set her down.
Her arms tightened around him. "No, show me how much you want me." He seemed uncertain if he should. Keeping her eyes closed, she brushed the back of her hand over his erection.
He gasped, and his hips slammed against her. Then he cupped her bottom and lifted her up onto his hips again. "I want to make love with you," he panted and started rocking, drawing sighs from her. His hand drifted up to capture her breast.
She grazed her nails over the back of his shoulders.
The man nearly fell to his knees. "Oh god, Emma." His body tensed, and his arms curled around her tight. His fingers dug into her back enough to make evident his desire. Then his hips started long, powerful thrusts, and his face buried against her neck. "Emma," he panted impossibly hard.
She rocked with him, and her hand buried in his hair while her other softly scratched his shoulder. The throbbing began to build. "Jay," she sighed, and her head fell back as he kissed her neck.
Suddenly, his hands slammed on the wall on each side of her. His body pressed into her, keeping her up. A flush swept over him, and his skin grew damp. Soft moans boardering on grunts erupted from his throat. She kissed his bare shoulder, her tongue swirling over muscle. His hot breaths puffed against her neck. The slamming of his heart thumped against her chest. All his muscles bulged hard as rock. His manhood convulsed. And then he sighed from the depths of his soul, and his muscles relaxed. He rocked her softly, suspended in pleasure. His hands slid under her shirt to skim down her sides and then rested on her hips. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and quieted, although his chest still heaved. She cradled him in her arms, basking in this closeness with him.
"Emma?" he whispered without lifting his head.
She stroked his silky smooth hair and gently nuzzled him. "Hm?"
"I've never done that with a woman."
Her heart stumbled over itself as it melted. "You're the only one who's shown me pleasure too," she whispered, keeping her eyes closed.
The weight of his head lifted from her shoulder. His breath whisped over her lips, and he cradled her cheek in his palm. "I'm sorry. I probably frightened you, and I meant no disrespect-"
"No, don't apologize." With eyes still closed, she reached up to cup his face in her hands. "I-" At that moment, the tips of her left fingers barely brushed hardened, warped skin.
He jerked his head back and dropped her to her feet, keeping ahold of her hips. Her eyes flew open in fright to see his chest, but he whipped her around. She flung her hands up against the wall to catch her balance. His hands locked on her hips.
She closed her eyes, his rapid breathing breaking her heart. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, Jason." He didn't say anything. Was he that angry? "We talked about this that I might forget sometimes," she said softly. He still didn't respond. It hurt that he didn't trust her. Staring at the wall, she gently pushed his hands away. Then she slipped out the door.
In her room, she threw her jeans in the laundry and put on some fleece pants. Someone knocked on the bedroom door. She opened it. Jason stood there in a fresh black sweatsuit and wore the mask again. Without letting go of the doorknob, she kept her eyes downcast, too hurt to look at him. The sadness made it feel so empty in her chest where there used to be love and warmth. When he didn't say anything, she slowly looked at his face.
His eye searched her, fear and pain and regret etched in it so deep. "Did it repulse you?" he whispered, as if afraid she'd slam the door in his face.
Her face crumpled, and she shook her head. "Never." Then she flung herself into his arms.
He caught her in a fierce embrace and exhaled a shakey breath.
Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she sniffled and held fistfuls of his sweatshirt at his back. "I love you. I thought you were so angry."
"No," he said against her hair. "I was scared you'd leave."
"I felt so close to you, I forgot about the scars, Jason. That's all. I want the walls to strip away like that, so we forget about everything else in the world for a few moments. I want to feel my heart beat with yours like that again."
A kiss pressed into her hair. "I don't understand how you can forget you touch a beast," he whispered. "But I love you."
"Because there is no beast, simply a man," she whispered and rose onto her toes to kiss the mouth slit of his mask.
She walked past Jason's office the next morning to go to her study. Someone speaking with a Scottish accent muffled through the door. She stopped and frowned down at Prince, who carried two socks in his mouth. "Is someone here?" she whispered. He simply thumped his tail and looked up with big brown eyes.
"Aye, thank ye," a deep voice said.
The pitch sounded like Jason, but the accent didn't fit. Then footsteps clicked in the room. The door opened, and Jason blinked in surprise. "Good morning, love."
He wore his usual suit with a white dress shirt and the ski mask. She looked past him in the office to see the chairs at the desk empty. "Is someone here?" Then she looked up at him.
"No. Are you expecting someone?" A frown tugged at his mouth.
"I thought I heard someone talking with a Scottish accent."
For a split instant, he didn't respond. "I was on a call with someone in Europe about the patent. You must've heard the speaker phone." But it hadn't been that slightly distant sound of a speaker phone. It had sounded like someone right in the room. He smiled and ran a hand over her loose locks. "That green sweater brings out your eyes," he said, his voice dropping to a husky level that would've made her knees weaken at any other time. But something seemed like he was...deterring her attention.
"I'd better get to work." He looked a little surprised at the abrupt end to their conversation. She slipped into her office and shut the door. He'd been lying. Something in her gut nagged. It was hard to focus on numbers the rest of the morning.
In the afternoon, that muffled voice carried through the wall. She stepped into the hall and leaned an ear against the door.
"If this egit isn't bloody stupidity at it's finest."
She froze. And then her heart started racing. It was Jason's voice and words without a doubt, but the accent didn't match. Staring at the door, she backed up as the converstaion within continued. The Scottish accent didn't let up. It sounded too natural to have been learned. Dread reared it's ugly head. Why had Jason faked the American accent with her? How had he even when waking up from anesthesia? This didn't fit.
"Aye, Emma's safe and doesn't suspect," he said quietly. "She's workin' on t' books."
Her stomach plummeted. He was discussing her with whomever was on the phone. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. What didn't she 'suspect'? Was this some kind of cover business she was working on? Something she'd get arrested for? Jason wouldn't do that to her, though. But she'd thought the same thing of Gaston's cheating too, and he'd prove to be a hidden monster. Oh god, there was something going on, and he obviously wasn't going to be truthful with her. Tiptoeing into her office, she locked the door and darted to the laptop. All promises were off when he wasn't being honest. She opened up the Internet browser and typed in the search box. Jason Port.