The Unseen Enemy Series

Chapter 15

At Shooter’s, Dean tried to look around casually, but the boys had eyes on him.

Fuck, they’re like goddamned hawks.

“No sign of her?” Jim asked.

Dean took a deep swig of beer and played dumb. “Who?”

They rolled their eyes. Dean had been referring to Emma all week, off and on, and he had insisted that they come back to Shooter’s that night. They knew what he was up to: he wanted another go with her. She must have been quite something, they figured.

“Who else?” Dallas said. “Your pocket angel.”

“My – what?”

“That’s what my Dad always called women like Emma. Short, curvy little angels that could damn near fit in the back pocket of your jeans.”

“Huh.” Dean thought about that. “I kind of like that.”

“Anyway,” Chris said. “She’s not here?”

“I have no idea.” Dean shrugged. “I’m not looking for her.”

They rolled their eyes again, harder this time.

“Why are you lying to your brothers?” Dallas asked in an injured tone. “You think we don’t know exactly what you’re doing every time you look around the room?”

“Maybe I’m looking for that hot blonde from last week that I passed on.”

“Are you?” Jim said.

“Yeah.”

“Well, then,” he said. “You’re in luck, ‘cause she’s right over there.”

Dean followed his gaze and sure enough, there she was. Every bit as stunning as he remembered and wearing even tighter clothing than the Friday before, which Dean hardly thought possible. Her body was f*****g amazing, her face exquisite.

But she’s not Emma.

Annoyed at himself now, he tried to shake off thoughts of her. He’d been trying to shove her the f**k out of his head all week, and he’d had no success at all. That little brunette had just crawled into his headspace as easy as she had crawled into his bed, and he was pissed off about that.

It was one f*****g night, Jessop. Get over it.

He couldn’t figure out just what the hell was happening here. Emma was a nice girl, sure; she was funny and smart. They’d had shockingly hot s*x, also true, so good that she’d wept afterwards. It hadn’t been the first time that a one-night-stand had cried in his arms after orgasm, and he’d always been considerate when he held them, but something about Emma’s vulnerability had stayed with him.

He had so many questions about her. Why hadn’t she had s*x in almost five years? Why had she decided to break that long period of abstinence with a total stranger picked up in a bar? And of all the strangers, why did she choose him? Dean was touched and humbled by the faith that she had shown in him when she'd made that choice, but he couldn’t even begin to understand it. And if she’d trusted him, why did she sneak out in the morning? Had he scared her after all? Was she OK?

There were no answers to these questions, and even though he was hoping that she’d show up here and he could take her back to his place and keep her in his bed for the whole weekend, he knew in his heart that it wasn’t going to happen. She was gone.

He looked back at the blonde. She was staring at him, her gorgeous eyes bold and telegraphing her desire loud and clear. She wasn’t Emma, not even close, but she was here and Emma wasn’t. Emma was never going to be here again. The sooner he got that through his head, the better.

So the blonde will have to do.

Dean got to his feet and crossed the bar. His friends watched him go, knowing that she wasn’t what he really wanted. They exchanged glances, but said nothing. They all had their own empty distractions sitting in their laps or standing at the bar catching their eyes. Anything at all to avoid the gaping voids in their own beds; anything at all to have a warm body next to them offering comfort and oblivion from their demons and ghosts and nightmares, even for a few hours.

Later, back at his place, Dean thought about Emma again. Just for a few seconds. He remembered how her face had looked as she came and how it had felt to hold her afterwards. The blonde was on top of him now, and she was so practiced and confident that Dean found it possible to close his eyes and picture Emma’s face as he came. It was friction and it was f*****g and it was fine.

But it wasn’t what he wanted, not at all.