Chapter 27 Emmett
EMMETT
Ihate these things. Charity galas. Fancy suits.
Rich people throwing money around to feel good about themselves.
Don't get me wrong, the cause is important.
Tonight's event benefits youth hockey programs across the city, getting kids on the ice who couldn't otherwise afford it.
I believe in that. But the schmoozing? The forced smiles?
The women who look at me like I'm a prize to be won, it’s not my thing.
"Stop scowling." Sully elbows me as we enter the ballroom after walking the red carpet. "You look like someone pissed in your champagne."
"How could they? I don't have champagne yet."
"Let's fix that." He grabs two glasses from a passing waiter and shoves one into my hand. "Drink. Smile. Pretend you're having fun."
"I'd rather be literally anywhere else."
"Yeah, well, you're the captain. This comes with the territory." He scans the room, already spotting potential targets. "Besides, there are worse ways to spend an evening. Look at all these beautiful women."
I take a sip of champagne and don't respond because I'm waiting to see the only one I care about seeing tonight.
"Oh wow." Sully hits me.
"Ouch, what?"
"Um, there. Look who has just walked into the room."
I follow his line of sight and still.
Shit.
Joelle is across the room, and I nearly choke on my drink.
She's wearing a black dress that clings to every curve.
The neckline dips low enough to make my mouth go dry.
Her hair is down, falling in soft waves over her bare shoulders.
Gold earrings catch the light when she moves. She looks like sin wrapped in silk.
"Fuck," I croak out.
This makes him laugh. "And how's all that going?"
"Nothing's going," I bite back quickly.
"Right ..." he says slowly.
"Nothing has happened ..."
"Yet. It sounds like you were about to say yet." He smirks. "Look, it's your fucking funeral. This isn't going to end well for you or the team. But I've also never seen you act like this toward a woman before, and I am not about to piss on your parade."
"Thanks. I think."
"You’d better make sure she is worth all the pain that is going to happen to you when this inevitably blows up in your face," he warns me.
"I'm not doing anything."
"Again ... yet. But I can see it. You have the hots for her.
And I get it. The woman is stunning. But then I see her two brothers .
.." The St. Pierre brothers walk in and are instantly swarmed by adoring fans.
"Oh, but ... it looks like you're not the only one who has noticed how hot she looks tonight. Half the room is looking at her."
He's not wrong. I watch as a man in a perfectly tailored suit approaches her. Tall. Dark-haired. The kind of guy who reeks of old money. He says something that makes her laugh. She touches his arm. My grip tightens on my champagne glass.
"Easy, killer." Sully's watching me with too much amusement. "You're going to shatter that glass."
"Fuck off."
"Come on. Let's go mingle before you murder someone with your eyes."
I let him drag me into the crowd. Shaking hands and making small talk with donors and executives, but my attention keeps drifting back to Joelle and who she is talking to.
She's moved on from the dark-haired guy, and now she's talking to someone younger, a football player, I think.
His face looks familiar, he's leaning in close, saying something in her ear.
She's smiling up at him like he's the most interesting person in the room.
"Emmett." Sully elbows me. "The mayor just asked you a question."
"Sorry, what was that?"
The mayor laughs it off and repeats his question about playoff predictions. I give some generic answer about taking it one game at a time. But I'm not really listening to my own words because my eyes are on the scene before me.
Joelle is dancing with the football player, his hands are on her waist, pulling her close, and she's letting him. She's laughing at something he said, her head tilted back, that long neck exposed. I want to break his fucking hands.
"It was nice talking to you," Sully says to the mayor, excusing us from the conversation. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"The murder eyes thing."
"She's dancing with him ..." I throw back the rest of my champagne.
"Cut in then."
"I can't."
"Then you can't get upset if she's dancing with someone, can you?" He grabs another two glasses of champagne for us.
He's right. But I can't ask her to dance.
Her brothers would kill me for sure. And I don't know if I'd be able to keep my hands to myself.
I let him lead me all over the event, talking to who knows who.
For the next hour, I do my job. I smile.
I flirt. I let women touch my arm and laugh at jokes that aren't funny.
I pose for photos, sign autographs, and pretend I'm having the time of my life.
But every few minutes, my eyes find Joelle.
She's always with someone different. A tech billionaire.
A retired athlete. A guy who looks like he stepped off the cover of GQ.
She flirts with all of them. Easy and confident, like she doesn't have a care in the world.
Like she didn't moan my name into the phone.
Like she isn't driving me out of my fucking mind.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've been waiting for!" The MC's voice booms through the speakers. "Our bachelor auction!"
Wait, what?
Sully groans. "I forgot about this part."
"You and me both."
We're herded onto the stage with a few other players. Pierre. Felix. Bouch. Fish. Evan. Nelly. One by one, we're auctioned off for charity. The winner gets a dance tonight. Signed Mavericks merch. VIP tickets. Suite passes. And they get to join us for a training session.
Sully goes for thirty thousand dollars to a redhead who looks like she wants to eat him alive. Pierre goes for fifty thousand. Felix for forty.
Then it's my turn.
"And now, our team captain, Emmett Black!"
The bidding starts at five thousand and climbs fast. I stand there with a fake smile plastered on my face, watching the numbers rise. Ten thousand. Fifteen. Twenty. Fifty. I scan the crowd and find Joelle. She's standing near the bar, champagne in hand, watching me with an expression I can't read.
"One hundred thousand!" The voice comes from somewhere to my left. A woman in a red dress with dark hair and curves for days. She's beautiful in an obvious way. All sharp edges and predatory smile.
"One hundred thousand going once ... going twice ... sold!"
Fuck.
The woman blows me a kiss, and I force a smile and exit the stage.
"Damn." Sully appears at my side. "She's hot."
"I'm not interested."
"You don't have to sleep with her. But damn, she did pay a lot for you. You should give a little something-something," Sully teases.
"Fuck off. I need another drink." I make my way to the bar, but I don't get far before Red Dress intercepts me.
"Hi there, Captain." She slides her hand up my chest. "I'm Victoria. I believe you owe me a dance."
"Yes, I do. Congratulations. Your donation was so generous. You are going to help so many kids with that money."
"Yeah, yeah. I want my dance now." She presses closer. "Unless you'd rather give me something else?"
Over her shoulder, I see Joelle watching us. Her expression has changed, there's a tightness around her eyes. Good. Hope she's as jealous as I have been all night.
"Let's dance," I say.
Victoria leads me to the dance floor, wrapping herself around me like a vine.
Her perfume is too strong. Her hands are too grabby.
She's pressing her breasts against my chest, and whispering things in my ear that should be turning me on.
They're not. I'm uncomfortable because all I can see is Joelle, standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching me with fire in her eyes.
She's jealous. The realization hits me like a slap shot to the chest. She's jealous, and she's trying to hide it, but failing miserably. This makes me so happy.
I spin Victoria so my back is to Joelle, then pull her closer, playing it up. Victoria practically purrs. When I glance over my shoulder, Joelle is gone. Shit. Did I push her too far?
"Excuse me." I extract myself from Victoria's grip. "I need to use the restroom."
"Hurry back, Captain." She sing songs.
I won't be hurrying anywhere. I scan the ballroom but don't see Joelle.
The terrace doors are cracked open, curtains fluttering in the breeze.
She must be out there. I head outside. Bingo.
She's there, leaning against the railing, staring out at the city lights.
The wind catches her hair, and she looks like something out of a dream.
"Running away from the party?" I ask.
She jumps, then looks over her shoulder at me. She ignores me and continues looking out over the city. "Needed some air."
"Funny. So did I." I move to stand beside her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her bare skin. "Nice night."
"Don't," she warns.
"Don't what?"
"I can smell her perfume all over you." She sneers.
"She donated a generous sum of money for a needy cause."
"Don't pretend this is casual." She looks at me with fire in her eyes. "Don't pretend you didn't follow me out here. You wanted to rub that woman in my face."
"Maybe I just wanted fresh air." I lean against the railing, facing her. "You've been rubbing every man in there in mine all night."
Her chin lifts. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The dark-haired guy. The football player. The tech bro with the stupid glasses." I step closer. "You've been flirting with every man in that room."
"So, what if I have? I'm single. I can flirt with whoever I want."
"Can you?"
"Yes." She glares at me. "You don't own me, Emmett."
"I know that." My eyes land on those ruby lips.
"Then stop looking at me like you want to kill every man who talks to me."
"I can't help how I look at you." I'm close now. Too close. I can smell her perfume. Something warm and sweet that makes me want to bury my face in her neck. "You're in that dress, laughing and touching other men. It's driving me fucking crazy."
"Good." Her voice is sharp. "Now you know how I felt watching that woman climb you like a tree."
"You're jealous."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"You are." I brace my hands on the railing on either side of her, caging her in. "You're jealous, and it's killing you. And you hate that I can see it."
"Move," she hisses.
"Make me," I whisper into her ear.
"Emmett ..." Her voice is soft and low, almost a moan.
"I didn't want her." The words come out rough. "I haven't wanted anyone else since London."
She goes still.
"Every woman in that room could throw themselves at me, and I wouldn't care." I lean closer, my lips brushing her ear. "Because all I see is you, Trouble. All I want is you."
"We can't ..."
"I know. But it still doesn't stop me wanting you.”
"My brothers ..."
"I know."
"This is insane." Her words are almost breathless.
"I know that too."
She's breathing hard, her chest rising and falling. I can see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
"I need one kiss or I'll go insane," I confess to her.
She turns slowly in my arms so that I am now looking at her. Those hazel eyes are wide and glowing with want and need. Probably reflecting the same as my own.
"Emmett ..."
"Please ... just ..." I cup her face, my thumb sliding along her cheek.
"After the other night, hearing you come.
I can't seem to get the thought of you out of my mind.
And I have tried. Oh, how I have tried to erase your taste from my lips.
Your moans from my ears. But here you are. Still fucking haunting me."
She stares at me for a long moment, then her hand fists in my shirt and she pulls me down to her.
The kiss is fire. She tastes like champagne and want, and everything I've been craving.
I groan against her mouth, one hand sliding into her hair, the other gripping her hip to pull her closer.
She arches into me, her fingers raking through my hair.
I'm lost. I spin her. Pressing her back against the stone pillar, deepening the kiss.
Her leg hooks around my calf, pulling me tighter against her.
I can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her dress.
"Emmett." She gasps against my mouth.
"I know." I kiss down her jaw, her neck, that spot behind her ear that made her moan in London. "I know. I know."
Her head falls back, giving me access, and I take it. I taste every inch of exposed skin. My hands roam over the curves that have been tormenting me all night.
"We have to stop," she breathes.
"I know. But I don't want to stop."
"Someone could see."
She's right. We're on a terrace at a charity gala surrounded by hundreds of people. Especially her brothers and my team. Anyone could walk out here. I force myself to pull back, resting my forehead against hers. We're both breathing hard.
"This isn't over," I say.
"Emmett, please ..." she begs me.
"I meant what I said. I don't want anyone else."
Voices drift from inside and echo outside, someone's coming. We spring apart, Joelle smooths her dress, and I straighten my tie. By the time a couple stumbles onto the terrace, giggling and clearly looking for their own private moment, we're standing a respectable distance apart.
"We should go back in. Separately," Joelle says quietly.
I nod.
Jo hesitates, then leans up to press a quick kiss to my cheek. "Goodnight, Captain."
She slips back inside, leaving me alone with the city lights and the ghost of her lips on mine.
I'm so fucked.