Chapter 6
6
M alcolm
Yesterday, I had to restrain every part of me to not fuck Emma against the tree.
I wanted to—the image of her alone causes a stir in my groin.
At first, when I asked her to take off her shirt, I had every intention of having sex with her. Not as some part of a wicked plan but because the energy flowed that way. Then, when I looked into her eyes, something shifted.
I felt such a strong bond between us in a way that had never happened before.
Since it was so new, I wanted to properly take her out before I took her to bed. A wave of affection rolls through me. I need to know more about her—is she serious about this adult content business?
I was worried once I slept with her, I’d be so hooked that I’d ignore all the red flags.
I need to know more about her. In a short period of time, I’m already too captivated by her. I have to protect myself.
Can I share her with the world if she goes through with this adult site idea? No. Will she change her mind because of me? Would that be fair? She didn’t seem passionate about it; more like it was an easy way to make money. Maybe we can investigate further.
Emma opens the door, and all my good intentions go down the drain.
Jesus fuck.
A purple dress hugs her body, outlining her excellent shape. It whispers above her thighs, and she wears black wedge shoes to complement the look. She carries a small purse, also black.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
“Oh, it’s okay,” I say, repressing what I really want to tell her. But if I tell her, we’ll never make it to the restaurant.
Emma smiles. “You look handsome.”
I wear a black-sleeved shirt with matching pants. “Thanks. Let’s go.”
During the drive to one of Dallas’s trendiest restaurants, we talk about everyday casual stuff, always skirting around safe topics. Keeping my focus on the highway is hard, especially if I steal a glance her way. She crosses and uncrosses her legs, causing her dress to shift slightly, showing a glimpse of her thighs.
When we arrive at the place, the hostess greets me and takes us to one of the most private tables. The restaurant is known for its sexy, modern mid-century décor, dimmed lights, and talented piano playing.
We enter the curved booth and slide into the velvety dark orange seating.
After we order our drinks, Emma turns to me.
“It’s been ages since I was on a proper date.”
I lean closer. I want to learn everything I can about her. “Tell me about it.”
She gestures with her hands. “Oh, I last dated my landlord, a mistake I’ll never repeat. We didn’t have sex or anything, but we went on a few dates, and it crashed and burned. Long story short, my lease was up soon, and he used that to his advantage. I ended up homeless.”
I appreciate her candor. I wonder if I should punch this guy or send him a thank-you note for making her available again. He sure sounds like a vindictive loser. “That’s not a fun way to end things.”
“No, it’s not. He was a stupid jerk at the end.”
I detect a note of resentment in her voice. “Why?”
“Made fun of something that means a lot to me,” she says in a low voice. Her smile disappears.
“Tell me about it.”
She gives me a sideways glance and looks down at her lap. “It may sound silly, but I want to be a wedding gown designer. I loved drawing them from an early age. He made fun of me when I told him about it, and we had a major fight.”
Wedding gown designer. The idea brings a sweetness to her that I didn’t expect. I also didn’t expect the anger simmering in my veins. How dare this asshole make fun of her dream?
I pop my knuckles. “How old is this bastard?”
“Hmmmm, twenty-six.”
“Figures. Immature.”
“Yeah.”
“Designing is an excellent career path. Why wedding gowns, though? And not everything else as well? I’m curious—not judging.” I don’t know any wedding gown designers who could take her under their wing, but I have invested in a fashion brand before. Would any of my contacts help her?
I mentally punch myself. This is getting to know her time. I can’t fix her life in the first five minutes.
Emma’s eyes light up when she talks, and the specks of gold around her green irises flicker like rings of fire. “I enjoy fashion. Wedding gowns speak to me. Also, they’re such happy occasions.”
“Yes. Very true.” My dad got married four times, and all of them were very happy occasions. Until his exes found out about his latest affair and slapped him with divorce papers. Unlike my dad, I wanted the idea of marriage to be more meaningful. Ironically, when I was finally ready to marry, my ex wasn’t.
The server returns with the bottle of wine, and I sniff the bouquet, and she pours our glasses.
“How about you?” Emma asks when we’re alone again. “When was your last relationship?”
The image of Erin’s face comes to mind. I hoped we’d make it. Erin is beautiful, smart, and accomplished. Did I share with her the fun banter I do with Emma? No. I can’t think of the last time a woman stimulated me the way Emma does. It’s almost hard to describe it—yes, a healthy dose of sexual energy lurks around us, but also a much stronger emotion. Looking at her and not having my heart leap in my chest is impossible.
“Oh, we ended some months ago. We were together for a year,” I say at last.
“What happened?” she asks, looking over the rim of her glass, eyes on me.
“We were doing great. But I wanted to move in together and get married, and she made it clear that wasn’t an option for her. Ever.”
She touches my hand, certainly as a friendly tap, but pure awareness shoots up my arm. “Oh, I get it. Sorry. You know… from the time I saw you and what Hazel told me about you, I didn’t know you had so much substance. I thought you were a garden variety wealthy man-whore, like her fiancé used to be.”
I chuckle. “Is that right?”
Her smile feels like a hug. “Yeah. So I guess it’s a pleasant surprise.”
“I’m forty-three, Emma. What would your dad say if he heard you went on a date with someone two decades older?” I ask, dead serious. I’m twenty-one years older than her.
She looks up at the ceiling. “Hmmm… I’d have to ask my mom to break the news to him. But trust me, my mom can work wonders. She’s very persuasive. It’s my three older brothers you’d have to worry about.”
I bit back a smile. Why does she have this ability to break down the problems until they’re no longer problems? “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
She stares at me and sips her wine again. “And how can I get you to be on your worst behavior?”
Lust bolts through me, my pulse skyrocketing. Maybe getting to know her better is more of a liability than jumping into bed with her right away. Every minute I spend in her presence, I get more hooked. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Emma.”
She chews her lower lip. “I don’t. But I want to.”
I look at her square in the eye, swallowing the lump in my throat. Before we do anything, I need to tell her I’m not into casual flings anymore. If that’s her preference, I have to be straight from the jump. “I don’t want a no-strings-attached hookup. Had too many of those.”
“And what makes you think that’s what I want?” she asks, unfazed.
My heart rate jolts. That was the answer I needed. Could this work out between us? “That’s why we’re here. To find out.”