Chapter 2
DYLAN
Do not cut yourself, man.
I take a deep breath, forcing my hand to stop shaking. This is the most important shave of my life, for the most important date of my life. I’m not about to walk into a room with Emma on my arm and bits of red-flecked toilet paper stuck to my face.
I've never been one to believe in destiny or fate or any of that stuff. But from the second I saw Emma come into the diner, I was begging the universe with my entire soul to have a reason to talk to her.
As I drag the razor across my face with the focus and precision of a surgeon, I find myself wondering how soft her skin is.
The woman is positively luminous. Rich, chestnut hair.
I love the way half of it is tied up in a fancy twist and held by a glittering silver clip.
Her eyes are a soft, medium blue, like a lake in the early morning.
And her lips…good Lord…
I've never genuinely lusted for a woman's lips before, but the thought of kissing her fills my entire body with longing.
When I'm done my shave, I run damp fingers through my hair, then change into my suit. Thank goodness I’d forgotten to take my dry cleaning out of the truck for the past few days. Two reminders keep flashing through my mind: Treat her like a princess. Watch your language.
Once I’m presentable, I shove my other clothing into the shoulder bag, wedge it under my arm, and leave the bathroom. Emma emerges from the ladies’ room at the same time, and we cram together in the minuscule hallway. Her lipstick is freshly reapplied, and I notice her hands are trembling.
I take them in mine and kiss the back of them. "This is your work function, Emma. I'm going to follow your lead in everything. You can brief me on the way there."
Her eyes trail up and down my frame, and she nods wordlessly.
I think she likes my new look. Good. We go back to the table, where I help her into her coat.
As soon as we're outside and I’ve stashed my bag in the truck, a cab pulls up.
"I figured we couldn’t show up in a pickup if we didn’t know what kind of story we're going to spin," I explain.
She flashes me a stunning grin as I help her into the cab. "Good point. Thank you."
She gives the driver the address, then I turn to her. "Okay. Give me the rundown on everything I should know if we've been dating for…let’s keep it vague…a few months? Yes?"
"Perfect."
Eight minutes later, we've concocted a charming yet believable story of how we met in the Christmas craft aisle of the local art supply warehouse.
I was looking for beads for my mom that she can't get in the small town of Holly Valley, where she lives.
Emma was looking for little red notebooks for work.
We love going to restaurants and bookstores together, are both into sci-fi movies, and are hopeful for our future together.
She’s also given me the story of Lacey's jealousy – Emma is the new girl but still seems to get the best assignments. Her manager Natalie, and her coworkers Brandy and Angie, all sound like they’re bored with their lives, and they enjoy getting a shot of excitement from Lacey’s drama.
The cab pulls up to the address she gave the driver, and I get out first to take Emma's hand. Once we’re standing on the sidewalk, I pull her gently into my arms for a moment and whisper in her ear.
"If we’re going to sell this, I might have to hold your hand, put an arm around you, get a bit cozy. Is that all right?"
My breath falters as she looks up at me, her eyes sparkling. "Of course. Whatever you like."
I slip my arm under her coat to caress her lower back through her dress as I murmur in her ear. "I'm going to try very hard to behave myself. Unless it would look even better if I didn't."
She giggles softly. "I'm not sure if I’d know the difference. I guess I'll have to trust you."
Does Emma realize she just implied she hasn’t dated much? The pressure to impress her is suddenly almost more intense than the pressure to make her work problems disappear.
We leave our things at the coat check and step into the main room, where everything is decorated in an elegant winter wonderland theme. They’re trying to be subtle about it, but I spot everyone in the room taking turns staring at us as we enter.
A petite woman with choppy blonde hair glares daggers at us. She's wearing a leaf green dress that looks less Christmassy and more rave-appropriate – wait, do they still have those? Her hand is latched firmly onto the arm of a skinny guy in an ill-fitting gray suit.
“Is that Lacey in the questionable green?” I murmur.
“Yes. Oh wow – she looks deeply offended that I brought someone.”
I gently kiss the top of her hair. “Good.”
A quick survey of the eighty or so guests confirms that Emma is by far the classiest and most beautiful woman here. And I'm certainly the largest, fittest man, and wearing the most expensive suit, if I do say myself.
We accept champagne flutes on our way into the ballroom, pausing at the donation table. “Oh, you don’t have to,” Emma murmurs. “I’ve already—”
I wave away Emma’s protests, turning the keypad to me and tapping my card. “It’s the holidays. Believe it or not, I follow traditions.”
A middle-aged woman in a white and silver dress comes racing over. "Emma!" she beams. "We were afraid you weren’t coming!"
"It’s my fault we’re late." I flash a brilliant smile, extending my hand. "Lovely to meet you. Dylan Cutler. I wanted to make sure Emma ate a little something before we got here. Low blood sugar plus champagne means she might not be up for dancing, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?"
"Natalie Jones, manager of Emma’s department." She’s still beaming. "Such an attentive, thoughtful boyfriend. Do come and meet everyone."
Half an hour later, I've greeted people, made endless small talk, and come up with various compliments regarding men's ties and women's earrings. I'm not normally a social person, so part of me is already exhausted.
In my hometown of Holly Valley, everyone knows everyone and there are very few strangers.
Here in Kingsville, I usually like staying anonymous because too many strangers asking about my business makes me prickly.
Tonight, this slight irritation is kicked all the way to the curb by Emma's smile.
She's clearly delighted with how the evening is progressing.
As we stroll away from yet another couple, she whispers, "That was Carl, the big boss.”
"Well, he definitely seems to like you. That's good."
Her eyes drop. "I've only been here for five months, but I'm the fastest and most accurate." Her voice lowers even more. "I hate to say it, but I think the others have just gotten a bit…set in their ways."
"You mean lazy?"
"I definitely did not say that." Her nose twitches. "Although I may have been thinking it.”
Her coworkers Brandy and Angie were among the first people eager to say hello, and it’s not lost on me that Lacey hasn’t come anywhere near us.
It doesn't faze Emma at all. We chat, mingle, and almost forget we’re on a mission.
It truly feels like a real date. Everyone seems to like Emma, and our quietly intense relationship.
Natalie especially loves that we met while I was running an errand for my mother.
"So," I murmur as we steal a moment to ourselves at the end of the room. "I don't see a cake, but I'm happy to push a certain green dress headfirst into the punchbowl near the dessert table if you like."
Emma laughs, her hand landing on my bicep. Her fingers tighten just enough to feel along my muscle before she blinks and snatches her hand away. Did I imagine the shiver that seemed to run through her? At least I know Emma likes what she feels.
"Other than a few bitchy glares, Lacey has been minding her own business. Maybe she's given up trying to make me look bad."
"I hope so. But let's keep an eye on her anyway.”
I find I’m already extremely protective of Emma, for some reason. She’s so sweet, just a little shy and unsure. The thought of one coworker messing up her job bothers me enough: the idea of anyone messing with her entire livelihood sends a wave of curses crashing through the back of my mind.
Emma spins to the right. "Oh! There's James from Accounting and I guess his wife. He was so worried the other day because their cat was sick. Why don't I check on them, and you grab us some more champagne?"
I smile, leaning close to murmur, "You can tell I've kind of had enough of being the center of attention?"
She grins. "Yeah. I have, too. But I think it’s positive attention, at least."
"I’m determined to do whatever it takes to make sure everyone leaves here tonight with nothing but happy stories of how wonderful you are."
I lean in and brush my lips across her temple, glad that she doesn't shy away. She actually leans toward me, welcoming my touch. I’m dying to ask her out on a real date as soon as this is over.
Wait.
“This is just an idea, Emma. No pressure. But if you don’t have plans for Christmas, maybe you’d consider coming to my hometown, and being my date for the festivities? My mom has been freaking out that I never bring anyone for the holidays.”
“Oh! I’d love to.” Her eyes glow. “My mom lives in South Dakota and we…well… We haven’t spoken in ages. My only plans this year involved staying home alone.”
“I promise we’ll have a good time. Don’t worry, I’ll ask you properly tomorrow.”
Emma grins and dashes off, and I head for the bar. The area immediately in front of the bartender is busy, so I step to the side, nearer the hallway to the restrooms. The corridor is very narrow and causes voices to echo, so I can't help but hear every word.
"Who the hell does Emma think she is?" It's a flat, nasal voice that I don’t think I’ve heard tonight. I crane my head around slightly, and catch a flash of bright green out of the corner of my eye.
“That huge lumberjack type is probably her cousin." There's a snort. "I wouldn't even put it past her to hire an actor or some shit. She's always showing off, trying to make the rest of us look bad."
There's a softer voice. "He really is acting like a very attentive boyfriend, Lace. I’m positive they've been together a while. I don't know what your prob—"
"My problem is that this is supposed to be a wholesome company party where we meet people's significant others. That’s how it's been for years.
And here Emma just shows up with some guy she scammed on a dating app, acting like she's queen of the company again.
Like she's better than us and wants to rub our noses in it. "
An exasperated sigh from a different voice. "Lacey, just because she's faster at the reports doesn't mean…"
They emerge from the hall into the ballroom. Turning away from them, I order champagne, pretending I didn't hear them. Unfortunately, I see that Lacey was bitching to Natalie and Brandy. They're both frowning and shaking their heads.
I don't know who hurt that poisonous Lacey chick, but I'm not going to let her mess up Emma's job. My mind begins spinning, trying to think of an idea. Natalie seems like a sentimental type, and she's the one with the real power in this situation.
Will Emma forgive me if I go off script and do something crazy to dazzle her coworkers and make them love her?