I Am Moore (All That & Moore Book 1) Read online

  “You’re amazing,” Evan said, finding Emery’s eyes once again.

  “You, too…”

  It was the sun peeking through the drawn curtains that caused Emery to wake from sleeping. She felt him, cradling her in his strong arms; Evan’s naked body curved against her nakedness. The room was quiet, except for Evan’s light snore. Hearing him made Emery smile and laugh a little. Such good blackmail material, Emery thought to herself. She knew Evan would deny it to the end that he snored. So much about this felt so right. Evan felt good holding her, covering her. Too good? Emery shifted slightly as reality crept in and the smile faded from her lips. Evan shifted too, pulling her back in, nestling her against him. Emery couldn’t deny how Evan made her body feel. Their connection had been magical. Evan’s touch awakened her body in a way Emery never experienced before. He possessed so many of the qualities Emery said she always wanted. But, he was Evan Stanton, Esquire, acclaimed attorney and lady’s man.

  A sigh passed through Emery’s lips. Being with Evan was nice, but it couldn’t be real. Could it?

  Chapter Four

  It was that last part that haunted Emery, even through the fogginess of her head. She had never been one to drink more than socially. That top shelf scotch, knocked Emery on her pretty ass and gave her one hell of a hangover. Emery was grateful it was the weekend which gave her a few days to recover before having to go back into the courtroom. Evan had been a gracious host; allowing her to sleep well into mid-morning and then offering to drive her home after their heated tryst that almost reignited as they slumbered; Evan cradling Emery possessively in his arms. But she graciously declined his offer; preferring to take a taxi home. Emery wasn’t sure she wanted Evan to know where she lived. More than that, Emery needed to separate herself from Evan, so she could think clearly; after the hangover passed.

  But it didn’t feel like it was going to pass anytime soon. By the time Emery got home, peeling off her clothes and leaving them wherever they fell, the most she could muster was falling into bed. She slept, a deep sleep. Yet, Evan was there. Flashes of their intimate tete a tete played in her mind, reminding her of their time together. Evan’s presence, even as she slumbered, sent shivers of warmth through her. But the midday sun broke through the blinds, bringing light where Emery still craved darkness.

  “Oh no ma’am, Ms. Girl,” Kennedy barged in. “Just because you partied all night does not mean you get to sleep all day!”

  The second oldest Moore daughter, Kennedy, had a key to Emery’s place. She made herself welcomed. Kennedy and Emery were very close and naturally Kennedy wanted to make sure her sister got home okay. Now that she saw Emery was safe, Kennedy couldn’t resist messing with her big sissy, just a little.

  “Come on, Ken, please,” Emery mumbled, readjusting under the covers and pulling her silk covered pillow over her head.

  Kennedy would not be denied, pulling the covers off Emery revealing the nakedness of her body.

  “Ken!”

  “I hope you didn’t come home like that. All naked and stuff. Where are your clothes?”

  “I don’t know,” Emery muttered. “But I do know you need to leave me alone.”

  Emery sat up with one eye opened. Her head pounded violently from the swift movement and Emery instantly regretted it. She reached for the covers that weren’t there and groaned again, flopping back down onto the bed.

  Feeling sorry for Emery, Kennedy tossed the cover back on her.

  “Im’ma leave you alone, for now,” Kennedy taunted. “But you have one hour to get up, get cleaned up, and come downstairs. I’m cooking breakfast, well brunch… whatever. One-hour, Emery. I ain’t playing or I will drag you out of that bed myself.”

  “Mmhmm,” was all Emery could muster. Feeling the warmth of the cover on her legs, she reached for it, this time without opening her eyes. Snuggling back in, Emery tried to sleep. She needed it to feel better.

  Kennedy had been more gracious than she promised, allowing Emery time to pull herself together. Sleep was elusive after Kennedy barged in. Emery succumbed to awakeness, dragging herself to the master bath. The master back was one of Emery’s favorite rooms in her expansive home. Decorated in cool grays with splashes of chartreuse against clean crisp white, the bathroom was spacious yet intimate. It was Emery’s sanctuary. The coolness of the brushed travertine floor felt good on Emery’s feet. With her eyes hooded, Emery made her way to the walk-through shower, activating the multiple shower heads. It didn’t take long for the steam from the heated water to swell in the room, fogging the oval-shaped mirror positioned over the pedestal sink. It would be so easy to climb back into bed and try and sleep the hangover away. But Kennedy was relentless. She wouldn’t let that happen.

  Walking into the shower, the first sprays of water jetted against Emery’s body. She stepped further in, allowing the fullness of the warm water to saturate her skin. It didn’t take long before Emery woke fully; using her favorite blend of coconut milk, lemongrass, and sweet almond soap to wash her cares away, and any remaining evidence of her sensual encounter with Evan Stanton.

  Evan Stanton…

  He represented so much of everything good, so much of what Emery said she wanted for herself; intelligence against a backdrop of chiseled melinated chocolate goodness, with just the right amount of swagger and self-confidence, balanced against an impeccable million-watt smile. Eww… Emery shivered at the thought. He was fine. There was no doubt. That didn’t mean he was right for her. Neither did it mean Emery was really ready for what she thought her heart desired.

  Emery stood directly under the rain shower head and let the water splash her face and run through her hair. As the hangover receded, thoughts of what led Emery to drink the way she did creep into her mind. Emery had a new sister, Samantha. She came out of nowhere, barging into her family’s life as if she deserved to be there. Emery shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Samantha or her mother’s revelation. Rinsing the soap from her body, Emery walked through to the other side, grabbing a towel from the heated rack. After wiping down, she wrapped the towel around her body and retrieved a second to wrap her hair.

  The master closet was attached to the bathroom. It only took a few steps before Emery was surrounded by racks of clothes. She sat on the chaise lounge positioned in the middle of her closet and dried her legs. From the small side table, Emery retrieved the body lotion she had especially blended with the same scents of her soap and shower gel. Once she oiled herself, Emery walked to the chest of drawers and picked out a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt to wear. After donning a pair of socks, Emery left the master suite and went downstairs. The lower-level was filled with the scent of food. Emery’s head was not completely clear, and the overwhelming smell of whatever Kennedy was cooking slightly turned Emery’s stomach.

  “Well, well, look who decided to grace me with her presence?”

  Kennedy was busy shuffling pots when Emery walked in and returned to them when she saw her sister come in. although Emery was not much of a cook, her kitchen was state of the art, bedecked with Wolfe appliances that a renowned chef like Kennedy could appreciate. Kennedy made the pots sing. She was in her happy place, despite the look on Emery’s face.

  “I don’t think I can eat anything right now, Ken,” Emery moaned, holding her head in her hand. The towel, wrapping her hair like a turban, was especially heavy considering.

  “Brunch is for me,” Kennedy replied. “This is for you.”

  Kennedy sat a tall glass in front of her sister. Through hooded eyes, Emery regarded the drink. It didn’t look like it tasted good. Lifting it to her nose and sniffing, Emery immediately pulled back.

  “Oh, uhn uhn, Ken. I ain’t drinking that,” Emery defied, sitting the glass down on the granite countertop.

  “If you want that hangover to go away, you will drink it.”

  Emery looked at the glass again without touching it. The coloring was all wrong and not the least bit appetizing. And when she peered over and looked insi
de the glass, the consistency seemed thick, like it would be hard to swallow.

  “What the hell is it,” Emery demanded.

  “Raw egg, ginger, and a bit of milk thistle, with a splash of freshly squeezed lemon juice for flavor.” Kennedy said it proudly like somehow describing it would make the concoction sound more appealing. It didn’t. Emery pushed the glass further away.

  “Don’t listen to me,” Kennedy scoffed. “That’s part of your problem, sis. You don’t listen.”

  “Not listening is the least of my problems, Kennedy, the least,” Emery murmured, resting her head flush against her arm on the countertop.

  “So, what’s really going on, Emery? You know you can talk to me about anything.”

  Emery didn’t respond, she just moaned from the throbbing in her head.

  “But first, can we talk about last night?”

  The lift in Kennedy’s voice made Emery look up. The Cheshire smile on Kennedy’s face made her eyes squinch.

  “Nope!” Emery clapped.

  “Oh, yes we will,” Kennedy said, sitting her plate on the table.

  The waft of food strongly pressed against Emery’s nose. Although she thought she couldn’t eat, her stomach growled loud enough for both sisters to hear.

  “If you drink the potion, then you can have some. There’s plenty.”

  Kennedy had fixed a veritable feast of Belgian waffles with fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, rice, and turkey sausage. It did smell good and Emery’s stomach growled again as Kennedy shoved a forkful of eggs in her own mouth; toying with Emery.

  “Hold your nose, throw your head back and drink it. I promise, it doesn’t taste nearly as bad as it looks.”

  “And how would you know,” Emery asked, reconsidering the glass in front of her.

  “I’ve had to drink it a time or two.”

  “When? Emery asked, interested to see what Kennedy would say.

  “I’ll tell if you do,” Kennedy replied coyly.

  “Fine, Emery scoffed, grabbing the glass and doing what Kennedy suggested, drinking the contents in full.

  “Ugggh, Ken that was awful,” Emery moaned.

  “Give it a few minutes. You’ll be feeling brand new like that scotch never got the best of you.”

  “The scotch… remind me not to do that again, okay?”

  “We were celebrating. You deserve the top of the line,” Kennedy replied.

  “It should have been a celebration,” Emery said, trying to hold in a burp threatening to come out. “It was more like trying to drown.”

  “Maybe, but that didn’t last, honey, not when Attorney Evan phine-ass, Stanton walked in the room.” Kennedy smiled again. It turned into a laugh when she saw Emery rolling her eyes.

  “Admit it, Emery, that man had your nose wide open.”

  “That ain’t all,” Emery mumbled.

  “Aw damn! Spill it, Emery Christine Moore, spill the tea!”

  Emery couldn’t help but laugh. Surprisingly, she started to feel better. But it was really Kennedy who always knew how to make Emery feel better. Although Emery was the oldest, Kennedy was the nurturer. She cared about others before herself and always tried to make any situation better than she found it. You couldn’t help but love Ken. She was so selfless. Reaching over onto her sister’s plate, Emery stole a cut piece of waffle and put it in her mouth.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned as the buttery flavor filled her mouth.

  “I told you. My tonic works every time, without fail.”

  “Whatever. Grab me a fork.”

  “For what? And can you say please, geez,” Kennedy rebuffed.

  “Cause I’m getting ready to eat off your plate that’s why. Oh, and please.”

  Kennedy spun on the chair and lifted herself up, walking over to one of the drawers, retrieving a fork.

  “Here… ungrateful…”

  “Whatever,” Emery snubbed, reaching with the fork for some eggs.

  “Now are you ready to tell me what happened?”

  Emery acted like her mouth was too full to speak. The edge of Kennedy’s mouth turned, and she popped her lips. When Emery reached again with her fork, Kennedy lifted the plate turning it away from her sister.

  “Ken! Come on,” Emery grumbled.

  Kennedy didn’t make it any better, taking a sausage between her fingers and slowly taking a bite, moaning like it was the best thing she ever tasted.

  “I’ll fix my own plate then,” Emery sulked, standing to her feet. But she stood up to quickly and the hangover she thought was fading, surged, forcing her back to her seat. Emery sat down hard; drawing Kennedy’s attention back to her.

  “You okay?” Ken asked concerned.

  “Yeah, just tried to get up too quick since you being all stingy with your food,” Emery gruffed.

  Slowly, Kennedy turned back around and set the plate back on the counter.

  “Thank you,” Emery replied, taking a small forkful of waffle. Something about the butter helped to coat her stomach and outside of the headache that started to recede again, she really was feeling much better.

  “What do you want to know?” Emery asked as she chewed.

  Kennedy’s eyes lit up and she leaned forward.

  “Everythang!”

  “You so silly,” Emery teased.

  “But you love me, sooooo…”

  “Okay. But can I have some white soda first?”

  “No problem but start talking!”

  Kennedy trotted over to the sub-zero refrigerator and pulled out a can of ginger ale. Moving to the cabinet, she got a glass down and returned to the table. She popped the top on the drink and started to pour just as Emery decided to speak.

  “Ethan… where should I begin.” Emery mused. “Yes, he looks as good without clothes as he does with them on. Yes, he is an excellent lover, attentive with just enough guttural, animal, prowess that makes a girl’s body sing a whole new song!”

  “Aahhhaaa!” Kennedy mimicked in her best soprano voice.

  “Yep, just like that, girl I promise,” Emery laughed.

  “He was amazing, Ken. Evan took my breath away, more than once. I know it was a one-night stand, but, damn, that boy’s got skills!”

  Kennedy was all in, leaning into the conversation, hanging on Emery’s every word. It had been a long time since Kennedy experienced that kind of feeling. She lived vicariously through her sister as Emery continued.

  “That’s the only way to describe it, absolutely amazing… almost too good.”

  “Don’t,” Kennedy uttered.

  “What do you mean, don’t?”

  “You know what I mean, Emery,” Kennedy replied. “Doubting, second-guessing, chastising yourself for letting your hair down and having some fun.”

  “You act like you know me.”

  “Better than anyone,” Kennedy answered. “And I can see it in your eyes, Em. You deserve the kind of love you dream of. You deserve a man who loves you unconditionally and can make you feel amazing. You deserve that.”

  “Maybe,” Emery sighed. “But Attorney Evan Stanton is a player, honey. He woo’s them and then leaves them.”

  “You don’t know that,” Kennedy defended.

  “His reputation precedes him,” Emery countered.

  “Okay, but is that how I made you feel, like it was one and done?”

  Emery paused, recounting some of the moments from the previous night. He wasn’t quick. Evan didn’t claw at her like the only thing he wanted rested between her thighs. He was just the opposite, slow, attentive; he wanted to please her more than he wanted to be pleased.

  “I didn’t hear the answer. What did you say?” Ken pressed.

  “No, he didn’t make me feel that way, but that’s part of the charm.” Emery persisted.

  “If you say so,” Kennedy replied. “But I saw how he looked at you, how he moved with you, how he shielded you when there was a crowd. A man that’s only interested in your goodies doesn’t act like that, not in public. And from the smile on yo
ur face, not in private either.”

  Chapter Five

  Although Emery’s conversation with Kennedy gave her a lot to think about, Emery did her best to put thoughts of Evan out of her mind. It was Monday morning. She had a full day of work ahead and she needed to focus on what was most important. Her newest client had a big trial coming up and Emery needed to prepare. The law firm of Moore, Brown, and Simpson had made an indelible impression on the legal community, although they were considered to most to be a nascent law firm. They were the new kids on the block, and some would like to discount Emery’s firm’s ability not only to land the high-profile cases but to win big for her clients. Every day, Attorney Moore set out to prove the naysayers wrong. It was her name, her family’s name that headed the marquis. Emery would do whatever she needed, to prove that Moore, Brown and Simpson should never be taken lightly.

  There was a rap at the door drawing Emery’s attention from the file she was reviewing.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Moore.”

  “It’s okay, Malcolm. Come in.”

  Malcolm Bryant glided into the room. Emery took a great deal of ribbing from her cohorts when they learned she had a male ‘secretary.’ But Malcolm was more than just a handsome face and he was certainly more than a secretary; although Emery considered that an admirable occupation. Malcolm was more of an assistant, an understudy, if you will. Emery decided when she started her firm that she would do things that were unconventional. Malcolm completed law school and was preparing to take the bar exam. Working with Emery, gave him an opportunity to see how the law worked, to hone his skills. He wasn’t relegated to making copies and answering phones. There were others in a clerical pool that managed those kinds of duties for all the partners. Malcolm was much more than that. Soon, he would be Malcolm Bryant, attorney at law. But it didn’t hurt that he was drop dead gorgeous with warm cocoa skin, deep brown penetrating eyes, and a physique that strongly held up his six-foot frame.