My Kind of Town Read online

  And if the nurse hadn’t grabbed the doc, holding on for dear life, that would have been one ugly fight.

  Emma didn’t get out much, she knew that. Admitted it openly. But when she did venture from her house, she was a watcher. That’s what she did. She watched and she studied and she stared. But only when no one was looking.

  Yet in all the years she’d stared at others, Emma had never seen so many good-looking people in one place before. The nurse … gorgeous. The doctor … gorgeous and so damn sweet. And that deputy guy … well, he went beyond gorgeous, but he was anything but sweet.

  What disturbed her about him, though, was the fact that he kept staring at her, which really didn’t make sense considering how gorgeous the nurses were. Except for the whole covered-in-blood thing, Emma should have been as invisible to these people as she was to everyone else in the world.

  Emma, always a realist, wasn’t perfect but a mutt—half Italian, half Chinese. Everyone gave her that look when she told them her last name, like they kept expecting it to end with “Ling” or “Chen.” But other than that, Emma was nothing more than a nice girl from Long Island. An accountant who never cheated on her taxes although she knew how to work a buck, she held a nice, safe job in a big office building with many lawyers and accountants who didn’t know she existed. She made decent money and didn’t have any insane debts. She even drove a safe beige Toyota and lived a safe beige life. As one of her bitchy cousins once said, “You could make dull an Olympic sport.”

  No. Emma needed to get out of this town as soon as she could manage. It was giving her a complex. No one needed to be a Plain Jane in a land of beautiful people. That’s why you’d never catch her in South Beach, Florida, or hanging out at some hot New York club. Nothing like having the pretty people ignore her.

  Sliding off the bed, Emma grabbed her jeans. Probably once she got out of the hospital, her phone would work, too. She couldn’t get a connection, and no one would give her a damn phone. She’d never been told no so many times in her life, and always in the nicest way possible. She’d yet to get one cross word from anybody.

  Emma struggled into her jeans, pulling them up under her way-too-big hospital gown. Frowning, she reached for her blood-covered T-shirt. She’d rather not put it on, but she didn’t have much choice. So, grabbing the hospital gown at the neck, she began to pull it down. She’d nearly cleared her breasts when the words “What exactly are you doing?” stopped her.

  Holding the gown up against her, Emma spun around and found the deputy standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his body leaning back against the door, legs casually crossed at the ankles. Emma had the disturbing feeling he’d been standing there the entire time she’d been busy putting her jeans on.

  “You gonna answer me?” he drawled, his voice low, his freaky light gold eyes sweeping up her body.

  “No.”

  Chuckling, he stood up, arms and legs uncrossing. He kind of unwound from the spot. Then he walked across the room toward her, and Emma couldn’t help but take a step back, her eyes searching the room for another way out.

  “Now, you’re not going to try and get around me, are ya, darlin’?”

  If Emma were back in New York and some enormous guy asked her that same question, she’d be screaming “fire”—since screaming “help” or “rape” barely warranted a raised eyebrow where she came from—and trying to dig his eyes out. But something about this guy … something she couldn’t quite understand had her frozen to the spot. Like the time she got cornered by a pissed-off Rottweiller behind her father’s pizzeria. She’d known then if she made one move it would go for her throat.

  Frighteningly, this guy gave her the same nervous tic.

  That big body stood over her, those light gold eyes staring into her face. “You insist on being difficult, don’t you?” He took another step closer, and she could feel his body heat, smell his scent … and oh! But wasn’t that nice.

  Emma swallowed. “Difficult?”

  “Yeah. Difficult.” He took the T-shirt from her hand and tossed it back in the chair she’d originally left it in. “By trying to leave before the doc says it’s okay.” Those big fingers took firm hold of her hospital gown, and Emma suddenly stopped breathing as she waited to see what he’d do. Although she kind of knew what she’d like him to do … but that seemed wrong. She’d known this guy all of two seconds. She and her last boyfriend didn’t start sharing a bed for three months after they started dating. When she mentioned this to her Coven during a casual dinner, they’d all simply stared at her, like she suddenly started speaking to them in Cantonese. So Emma didn’t have sudden rushes of sexual passion—until now.

  Gently, the deputy pried the gown from her fingers and slowly pulled it back onto her shoulders. His face completely impassive, he turned her, and she felt those fingers tie the gown back. She thought he’d stop there, then she gave a little squeak when she realized he’d crouched down behind her and grabbed hold of her jeans.

  “Hold up!” She grabbed his hands through the gown. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Just helping you out.”

  “I don’t need your help,” she yelped even as he pulled out of her grip and slipped her unzipped jeans back down, lifting each foot to remove the denim completely.

  “There. Isn’t that better?”

  She turned around and glared at him, her face brutally hot. “No!”

  He grinned at her and she almost smiled back. Almost.

  “Now,” he said while still crouching in front of her, dangerously near her pussy, “I don’t want any more talk about you leavin’. You’re staying until me and the doc say otherwise.”

  “What?” Panic. She was experiencing deep, bone-crushing panic. “You can’t keep me if I don’t want to stay.”

  “Oh, we sure can, darlin’. Ain’t that right, Doc?”

  Emma’s head snapped up and, sure enough, the very gorgeous Dr. Sahara stood in the doorway, smiling at her. She got the feeling he’d been standing there the whole time the deputy had his way with her jeans. Did these people not make noise? Was this a Southern thing? Like grits and ham hocks?

  “Now, Miss Emma,” Dr. Sahara sweetly chastised, “we need to make sure you’re okay before we let you go.”

  “You … you said I was okay. You said—”

  “I said there was nothing obvious. But we’ll want to keep you for observation. We wouldn’t want something horrible to happen to you after you leave us. Would we, Deputy?”

  “No. We want her safe and sound.”

  Emma looked down and realized that yes, the deputy had said that into her crotch. She’d never had this happen before. Standing so close to two men, rife with testosterone, who treated her like they thought she was hot. No one ever treated her like that, mostly because she blended into the woodwork. No one noticed Emma. They never had. And to be honest, she’d gotten quite used to it and preferred it that way.

  She pushed past the man at her feet. “I appreciate your concern, gentlemen. But I really think—”

  “This isn’t up for debate, darlin’.”

  Emma stopped and turned to look at the deputy. The man took his time standing. That long body of his was one big piece of rippling muscle, slowly unwinding to his full height. She almost moaned. She’d never seen a man so beautiful before. But there was something else about him. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  She did know one thing, though. He’d regret it if he made her get mean.

  He’d regret it a lot.

  One black eyebrow peaked as he stood in front of her, grinning down into her face. “Stop threatening me in your head. ‘Cause we both know you are.”

  Emma didn’t even want to know how the hell the man did that.

  Three

  The last spoonful of imported Belgian chocolate pudding hovered near her mouth, her eyes were glued to the getting-odder-by-the-minute deputy. “What?”

  “I asked how many brothers and sist
ers you have.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  He blinked, staring at her like he didn’t quite understand her. “Because that’s polite conversation.”

  Maybe in the South, but where she came from it simply meant you were being nosy—and up to something.

  “Are you going to answer me?”

  Emma’s eyes narrowed. “I have a few.”

  The deputy blinked again and then he sort of smiled. But it was definitely a “this girl is weirding me out” smile. “You have a few brothers and sisters? Your parents didn’t give you a specific number?”

  “They did. I’m simply not inclined to give it to you.”

  “Are you always this difficult to talk to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “No more personal questions.”

  “Thank you.”

  She glanced at the Belgian pudding waiting to be eaten and realized she no longer wanted it. Carefully, Emma placed the spoon back on the tray, and the deputy stared at it.

  “You gonna eat that?”

  Emma scratched her head, avoiding any bumps or sore spots from the accident. “Uh … no.”

  Kyle grabbed the spoon covered in chocolate pudding, plopped it into his mouth, and, leaning back in his chair, casually sucked it clean. He did it so casually, she felt like they’d known each other for years. This should be where she went running for the hills. This should be where she contacted the state police to come rescue her from Insaneville, North Carolina.

  Instead, for the first time in her life, all Emma wanted to do was jump into the man’s lap, toss that spoon, and replace it with her tongue. She wanted him. She wanted a man who continually referred to her as “Yankee” or “darlin’.”

  No. No. It was time to go. Now. Before she made a complete and utter fool of herself in front of a bunch of beautiful people.

  “I think in the morning I’ll get another rental car and head to the airport in Wilmington. Head on home.” That would give her the night to find her little “friend,” kill it, and get that off her conscience before bailing this little freak town.

  The deputy slowly pulled that spoon from his mouth, gave it a few extra swipes with his rather abnormally long tongue, smacked his lips, and said, “No.”

  Emma waited for more but it didn’t come. “What do you mean … what do you mean no?”

  He shrugged. Slowly, casually … annoyingly. “I mean no. You ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

  “You can’t keep me here against my will.”

  “Why not?” He knew it was wrong, but he sure did enjoy watching her get all wound up and cranky when she didn’t get what she wanted.

  “What do you mean why not? It’s against the law.”

  “I am the law, little gal,” Kyle stated calmly, wishing she’d left him a little more of that pudding. For a hospital, they had the best food. But his kind, especially the snobby Prides, expected only the best, including imported chocolate pudding for their rare and usually brief hospital stays. “At least around here I am.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then she blinked and quickly looked away, doing anything and everything to avoid looking at him directly.

  “I’m relatively certain,” she ground out, her eyes focused across the room, “that’s kidnapping.”

  “Not really.” Kyle couldn’t figure her out. She didn’t seem scared of him, but she definitely didn’t seem comfortable either. “It’s for your own good. The doc said he didn’t want you going anywhere until he was sure you were okay.”

  “For how long?”

  Until I’m ready to let you go. “A few days.”

  Her eyes grew huge behind all that hair, and Kyle wanted nothing more than to comb that mess out of her face. By the time they moved her from emergency to her own room, she’d finger-combed all that hair in such a way he could barely see her gorgeous eyes. He hated it.

  “A few days? I can’t stay here a few days.”

  “Why? You told the doc you were on vacation. ‘Just following where the sun leads’ were your words, I believe. So what do you care if you stay here a few days or not?”

  That seemed to stump her. “Uh …”

  “Is that how you ended up in our little town, Emma? Following where the sun leads?”

  She pushed her near-empty food tray away. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Emma.”

  She glared at him through all that hair. “I’m not.”

  Kyle sighed. “Fine.”

  “I need to call my friends,” she stated flatly. “I can’t get a connection on my cell phone.”

  Her friends? Why not her family? Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t said one word about her family. Most people, human or otherwise, wanted to see their family after an accident. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend or husband either, which he found very comforting.

  “Sure. I’ll let you call your friends. As soon as you tell me why you’re here.”

  “I’m on vacation.”

  “It’s never a good idea to lie to the law, Miss Emma.”

  “It’s never a good idea to hold someone against their will, Deputy. And yet, you don’t seem to have a problem with that.”

  For someone who didn’t give him much eye contact, she sure didn’t back down easy. Standing, Kyle leaned over the metal rails of her hospital bed. “Let’s try this again. Tell me why you’re here.”

  She stared up at him, her eyes locked with his as she slowly crossed her arms under her chest. “I’m. On. Vacation.”

  Kyle nodded and stepped back. “All right, then. Hope you like this room. You’ll be seeing it for quite a while.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means until I get a straight answer from you, you’re not going anywhere. So get comfortable.”

  He walked to the door. “I’ll get some books and magazines from the shop to keep us entertained.”

  She didn’t answer him, just turned her head and looked out the window.

  Emma closed the door of her hospital room bathroom. She groaned when she realized it didn’t have a lock and knew she couldn’t waste any time.

  Flipping open the cell phone she’d snagged off the deputy’s jeans when he’d been leaning over her and denying Emma her personal freedom, she quickly dialed a number and waited.

  Her high priestess answered. “Meacham.”

  “Hey, Jamie. It’s me.”

  “Em.” The woman let out a deep, relieved breath. “You had me worried, girl.”

  “I had you worried?”

  “But you’re okay, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. In the hospital.”

  “Oh, sweetie—”

  “No. No. Nothing like that. This local deputy found me and insisted on bringing me here. I think they’re all a little freaked out I’m healing so fast. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you, chief?”

  Jamie gave a low chuckle. “Just trying to help.”

  When Emma had called on them, all she needed was their protection. Her body’s sudden ability to quickly heal was merely Jamie showing off. “You helped, all right. Now they’re suspicious as hell. And to be quite honest—”

  “Yeah.”

  “These people are freaking me out. They’re all so nice. But maybe a little too nice. And everyone is huge. Like, abnormally huge. And they’re not on any maps. I mean, I searched every map, and nothing.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Two words. Government. Experiment.”

  “Did you hit your head a little hard on that steering wheel, hon?” Jamie asked. “Maybe crack your skull open?”

  “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm.”

  Jamie laughed. “Look, I warned you they were nice down there. And remember my cousins from Alabama? They’re huge. They grow ‘em big in the South. And most of those small podunk towns aren’t on the maps.”

  “Pod
unk? What podunk town has Gucci, Versace, and Prada stores on its Main Street?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they’re like the Hamptons of North Carolina?”

  “Then why won’t they let me leave?”

  “Whoa. Who won’t?”

  “The deputy and the doctor. They say I can’t leave.”

  “Let me see if I understand. After a major car accident that should have killed you if it weren’t for your Coven, but which still left you covered in blood, the doctor and the deputy won’t let you leave the hospital? Those bastards!”

  Emma gritted her teeth. “I’m hearing that sarcasm again.”

  Kyle picked up an issue of Elle magazine and debated whether Emma read this sort of stuff. She didn’t seem real “fashion forward,” as his baby sister called it. The jeans and T-shirt she had on when he found her were baggy and pretty boring. At the same time, she didn’t seem like a scrub, either.

  “Why can’t you buy porn like the rest of us?”

  Kyle sighed and didn’t bother to turn around. “Why are you here?”

  Tully Smith, his stepbrother and the mayor of Smithville, walked up to the magazine rack and grabbed a copy of Architectural Digest. It had been a dark day in Smithville when Kyle’s daddy married Tully’s momma. But Kyle and Tully had only been seven at the time and unable to prevent it, although they’d tried. Still, Kyle loved his momma more than he ever thought possible. From the first day, she never allowed the word “step” to be used in their home unless they were climbing some to go to their rooms. They were family, she’d say. No matter the differences. No matter the species.

  “It’s all over town some human crashed near the beach. And that you beat up one of our visitors.”

  “I didn’t beat him up, I broke his nose. If I beat him up, there would have been lots more blood. Besides, he was charging her. I had to do something.”

  “I’m not arguing with you. I know how those big, dumb cats can be.”

  Kyle glared and Tully pretended to look appalled. “Of course I didn’t mean you, little brother.”