She pressed her lips to his neck, still luxuriating in how much he appealed to every one of her senses. “It’s not too late to drive around and enjoy all the holiday cheer, is it?”
“Absolutely not. Maybe we can get some ice cream while we’re out, too.”
She ran her fingers down his arm, struck by the sheer masculine beauty of it. “Sugar Mama is closed.”
“Another ice cream store has opened up not far from the main part of town. It doesn’t offer fresh-baked cookies or ice cream sandwiches—it’s more of an old-time parlor with giant creations doused in caramel and chocolate sauce—but I’m definitely in the mood for something indulgent, aren’t you?”
“We’ve been pretty indulgent already,” she said. “But I could go for some ice cream.”
“Then we’d better hurry, before it closes.”
She sat up and started putting on her clothes—but became slightly self-conscious when he didn’t follow suit. He lay back, locked his fingers behind his head and simply watched her. “You’re not getting dressed?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I like what I’m seeing. You’re beautiful, Emery. I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”
She felt herself flush as she flipped her hair out from under her dress and started looking for her panties. “You remember me that well from high school?” Although she remembered him, she couldn’t recall much about him, except that he attended “that” school, the one with all the troubled kids.
He plucked her panties out of the bedding and handed them to her. “Yeah,” he said with a mysterious smile that led her to believe there was more to his answer than it might seem.
She hesitated before taking her panties from him. “Why are you smiling as though you have a secret?”
“No reason,” he replied, but he pulled her back into the bed, rolled her onto her back and, as one hand curved possessively around her bare ass, kissed her so powerfully she told herself she shouldn’t like it.
But she did. A lot.
“I had a thing for you in high school,” he admitted.
“You did?”
“I almost asked you to the senior dance.”
“No way!”
“It’s true.” He got up and started to dress, and this time she made it a point to watch him. “What are you looking at?” he joked.
“You,” she said, playing along.
His lips quirked into a sexy grin. “Because...”
“I like what I see,” she said, and sat up, grabbed him by the shirtfront and hauled him in for just as possessive and powerful a kiss.
Emery felt inexplicably happy as she and Dallas sat in a corner booth at Blake’s Ice Cream Spot. Decorated like a 1950s soda fountain in red, white and chrome, it served hamburgers, hot dogs, homemade chili and French fries, as well as gigantic ice cream creations.
“Wow, this place is packed,” she said to Dallas as the waitress wove through the crowd to bring them water. “I wouldn’t have expected this on a Sunday night.”
“Eli, Gavin and I came here last time I was home,” he said. “They serve great garlic fries.”
“I thought I smelled garlic.”
“Should we get some?”
“Why not?” she said with a shrug.
“There are benefits to making love before eating,” he joked. “We should do it more often.”
She laughed and they ordered a large garlic fry to share, agreeing that ice cream would come later.
The waitress had left, and they were talking about the Saturday Night Live skit Dallas had just shown her on his phone, when Emery felt the weight of someone’s stare. She’d been so caught up in Dallas—so content just to be with him—she hadn’t scoped out the place for people who might recognize her, as she’d made a habit of doing since she came to town.
“Something wrong?” Dallas asked when she straightened.
A prickle ran down her spine as she scanned the faces that surrounded them, searching—until she found what she was looking for. “Oh my God,” she whispered, jerking her gaze away from the person she’d just seen.
“What is it?”
“Don’t look now, but that’s Cain Brennan over by the jukebox.”
“The guy you had dinner with earlier?”
“Yes. I never dreamed we’d run into him. What could be the chances?”
“In such a small town? Not too bad—if you’re both looking for a place to hang out on a Sunday night. Very few businesses are open.”
From what Emery could tell, Cain was with a male friend or relative. It wasn’t as though he’d been following her. But she was embarrassed for him to catch her out and about, especially with Dallas. She’d told him she was too tired to go to the movies—and he’d warned her against getting involved with Dallas.
Was it apparent that she and Dallas were a little more than friends?
She tried to imagine what Cain might’ve seen when they walked in. How would an onlooker have interpreted their body language? They’d been having a great time, but they hadn’t been holding hands or anything. They’d agreed not to touch in public. It wouldn’t be wise to start tongues wagging. But the sheer magnetism of their attraction could be more apparent than she realized.
“He won’t quit staring at me,” she complained. “Should I go over and say something? Apologize?”
“Apologize for what?”
“For not wanting to go to the movie with him?”
“No. I don’t think an apology would make him feel any better. It might only embarrass him. I’d just let it go. It is what it is, you know?”
“You’re probably right.”
Their ice cream came, and Emery tried to enjoy it, but with Cain there, watching her so closely, she was too uncomfortable. She waited for Dallas to eat as much as he wanted. Then she said, “Let’s get out of here.”
“You got it,” he said, but just as he tossed twenty-five dollars on
