”
I narrowed my eyes and felt threatened. A guy like Casale didn’t do something like this without wanting something in return. “What do you want, Mr. Casale? I have no intention of having my fighter blow the fight, or a fight three years down the road when it suits your needs. I don’t need a partner in my business.” I tried to keep my voice even. My father was an enemy I understood. Mr. Casale was in a completely different league.
He shook his head, kept his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve misunderstood. Emory is in love with you, therefore I just reminded your father of a few things. If Emory’s happy, I’m happy.”
While I was curious about Mr. Casale’s connection with my dad, I decided there were some things I didn’t want to know.
“She’s…she’s not in love with me.” I could hear the surprise, the uncertainty in my voice. “We met last week.” While I said the words, I knew them to be empty. Time didn’t seem to make a difference when it came to me and Emory. It was as if I’d known her forever, yet everything was brand new.
The older man actually tsked me, led me around the corner so I could see Emory sitting at the table chatting with Christy and Paul. She hadn’t seen me yet. “You’ll keep her happy?” he asked, as we both watched her.
I nodded. It’s all I could do because the sight of her was like the worst sucker punch I’d ever taken. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but wonder what she saw in me. When she looked up and looked at me, she tilted her head and gave me the most perfect smile. Her eyes brightened with what I hoped was pleasure and excitement and they were both for me.
I was thankful for the small nudge the older man gave to my shoulder, prodding me to move toward the table. She stood and met me halfway, taking my hand as she leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Hi,” she whispered. “I missed you.”
Those words, God, they were the best thing I’d ever heard. This woman wanted me. I wanted to think it was love that made her eyes bright, made her smile so broad. I couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across my face, but I had to push her back and get a look at her. She wore a sundress, a bright blue that was soft and flowing and hit just above the knee. On her feet were a pair of sexy high heels and she wore makeup. Gone was the girl next door I woke up to and in her place was, shit, a siren. She pulled me in all right and I never wanted to leave. I closed my mouth and tried not to look like I was drooling.
“You look…incredible,” I whispered when I kissed her forehead.
She grinned at me, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Sit. Mr. Casale’s brought us wine.”
I held out Emory’s chair for her, then shook Paul’s hand. “I see you took care of my girl.” Glancing at Emory, I saw her blush. I loved that I could do that to her.
“If that means being dragged to the mall for dress shopping, then yes, I took care of your girl,” Paul replied.
“Are you okay with wine or do you want water?” She remembered I’d said I didn’t drink anymore.
“Water.”
She put the bottle down, then pushed her water glass toward me. “I only had the clothes I put in my bag last night. I couldn’t go to the hottest restaurant in town wearing shorts and a T-shirt.”
She could’ve and I wouldn’t have minded. While she looked stunning, I liked her best when she was naked. I knew enough about women to know now was not the time to tell her that. I would later, when she was naked.
“I’m a lawyer. I know I have a painful, boring job, but I’d rather go through a two-day deposition than to go through that experience again. Have you ever been in the lingerie department before?”
I didn’t know if I should commiserate with Paul over that scary task or get turned on by the idea of Emory picking out something super sexy. I turned and eyed her, wishing I had x-ray vision and could see what she had on beneath the dress, but she smiled sweetly at me, giving nothing away.
I reached for my water and took a big gulp. As Christy and Paul were commenting about something on the menu, Emory leaned in and said, her voice low enough so only I could hear, “It’s pink.”
I turned my head so our mouths were inches apart. “It’s pink?”
“And lacy.”
My mouth fell open when I realized what she was talking about. She grinned wickedly and picked up her own menu. Turnabout was fair play, so I put my hands in my lap, then moved my right so it rested on her thigh, my thumb slowly inching the hem of her dress upward.
Emory stiffened, but didn’t stop me. Well, she stopped me with her hand firmly on top of mine when I was getting close to feeling whether her panties were lacy or not. I never really intended to do anything in the middle of Casale’s restaurant, but I wanted to see how far she’d let me. And hell, now that my fingers were caressing the tender skin of her inner thigh, I wasn’t planning on moving it. I would eat left handed. I just had to pick something from the menu that didn’t involve using a knife.
EMORY
Mr. Casale, instead of the waiter, came to the table. “It would be my pleasure to select your meal for you.” I was thrilled with this because I couldn’t concentrate with Gray’s hand on my thigh. It settled just shy of my panties, his thumb moving slowly back and forth, as if telling me he wasn’t going any farther and that he liked this spot just fine.
I liked the spot just fine too, but it had gotten awfully hot in the restaurant and my panties were noticeably wetter than when I first arrived. Gray did nothing untoward or inappropriate the entire meal, but I couldn’t help but notice he didn’t move his hand. In fact, he ate left handed. The idea that he didn’t want to let go of my leg had me feeling…giddy. It was a real first date—a restaurant, a dress—although we did have chaperones. If they knew about the inappropriate hand placement under the table, they didn’t let on.
It was only when, after our plates were cleared and Mr. Casale pulled up a chair and sat down at the end of the table, did Gray move his hand. It seemed neither of us wanted the distraction for whatever the man had to say.
“I have heard on the street that someone is mad at you for not giving him drugs.”
He didn’t waste time by mincing words. Mr. Casale was looking at me. Everyone else looked to me as well. Drugs? Me? “What are you talking about?”