Kaleidoscope (Colorado Mountain #6)(63)

It was also, he reckoned due to what they had before, that she trusted him so she felt free to explore, opened herself to him and let him take what he wanted, was comfortable and relaxed so he could guide her there. Enough to wander around without panties. Enough to sleep na**d when he asked. Enough to come hard, never be guarded, occasionally expose uncertainty and let him take over and guide her out of that too.

It was just Emme.

“Why can’t you sleep?” she asked, and he stopped concentrating on the feel of her ass in his hands and focused on her.

“Told you I only sleep four hours a night,” he reminded her and he had, over murgh makhani and turtle sundaes, before the pool, two nights ago.

Her eyes held his as her hands slid up his chest to his neck.

“Is this healthy?” she asked softly.

“Been like this my whole life, baby. Never had any issues with fatigue.” He glided his hands up her back, pulling her closer and she didn’t fight it. “It’s just me. Looked into it, it’s not unusual. Other people are the same.”

“Are those other people exceptionally bright, like you?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” he answered, liking also the way she teased him about his intelligence, brought it up often. It was something she understood, something she was not in awe of but that didn’t mean she didn’t admire it. She did. She made that plain, just in a playful way that meant she wasn’t intimidated by it as many people, men and women, were.

“So, are you working?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

Her eyes wandered to the desk then back to him.

“You said you’d never talk to me about your work,” she remarked in a leading way.

Deck didn’t like this turn of conversation.

Close to her ending things, Elsbeth bitched about this. Mostly the fact that, in establishing his business and reputation, he didn’t make near the money he did now. But Elsbeth was not the only woman Deck had in his life, nor was she the only one who bitched that what he did was confidential, he couldn’t share, but also, sometimes what he did was dangerous and he wouldn’t share in order not to cause concern that was unfounded.

Because Deck never took an uncalculated risk.

And Deck was very good at calculation.

He took one hand from her ass to brush her bangs out of her eyes as he suggested, “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this at four o’clock in the morning.”

To that, she strangely asked, “Do you mind talking about Elsbeth?”

He didn’t know where she was going with this new conversational turn, but he answered, “No.”

“She never told me about your work,” Emme shared.

“That’s because she also didn’t know.”

She nodded, pressed closer and continued, “Though, she did say that you didn’t make much money doing it.”

“Back then, I didn’t,” Deck confirmed.

“That’s obviously changed now, what with your mini-mansion and environmentally unconscious pool-heating waste.”

He grinned, wrapped his arms around her and again confirmed, “Yeah, Emme, that’s changed now. I established a reputation, jobs more frequent, I can charge more.”

She held his gaze steady, nodded and asked, “Do you like what you do?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Does it challenge you? Mentally, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you know, back then with Elsbeth, that you’d eventually be this successful?”

His chin jerked back but he held her stare.

He never took an uncalculated risk.

He knew.

Elsbeth dumped him because his carefully crafted plan was not reaping the rewards she wanted by the time she expected.

He, on the other hand, did expect it to take time and he’d told her it would.

She’d lost patience with their two-bedroom apartment and not trading up their cars every year like her father had been doing since she was sixteen. Something, even though she also had a job, she expected him to bear the brunt of, like her father had been doing since she was sixteen.

She’d also held off accepting the engagement ring Deck had given her three years in, not wearing it, not making it official, not planning a wedding, waiting.

Then giving up.

And he’d let her. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had words when she told him it was over.

It was just that he didn’t do too much to change her mind.

Fuck.

“I knew. I also told her,” Deck shared.

“She just didn’t wait,” Emme guessed.

“No, she didn’t,” Deck told her something she knew.

“More fool her,” she murmured then the dimple appeared, “but lucky me.”

His hands started roaming and he grinned back. “Thinkin’ that too,” he replied. “Just about me.”

At his words, her eyes warmed, she pressed closer and whispered, “Mom likes you.”

Maeve had shown that day. Maeve had also cooked dinner for them that night and done it the entire time complaining about the stove, the flooring, the state of the countertops and how she’d probably wake screaming from her nightmares about Emme’s kitchen.

In other words, Maeve Holmes was funny, like her daughter.