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Alec hasn’t entered my mind since Emma and I left him and his fiancée at the bar. My brain has been too focused on replaying every second of our kiss. And wondering how soon I can make it happen again.
With water glass and plate in hand, I join Emma at the counter.
“The guys really liked you. Barrett can take a while to warm up to, but he told me he thought you were a good guy.”
“He asked if I would join him, Carl and Hunter for tennis tomorrow morning.”
“Do you play tennis?” she asks.
“Not since high school, but I think I’ll be able to handle it.”
“Oh my gosh, Barrett is really good. He’s been the club singles champ a gazillion times in a row. I’m kind of nervous for you now. A good wife would drag her butt out of bed to come watch and make sure you aren’t injured too badly.”
“I’m meeting them there at six thirty.”
“Well, I’m glad I never claimed to be a good wife.”
I chuckle as she snags half of the grilled cheese and takes a huge bite.
“Mmm. It’s so good.” Her eyes close and her head falls back in pleasure. She looked gorgeous tonight. I’ll have dreams about the way that green dress hugged her curves. Even now after she’s pulled her hair back into a clip, taken off all her makeup and changed into sleep shorts and a tank top, I can’t take my eyes off her.
There’s always been an awareness my body has when I’m around Emma. From the first moment I saw her on the rooftop in Vegas, it was there buzzing under the surface.
Being near Emma all night, playing the part of her devoted husband, touching her,kissingher, that awareness has increased to a steady thrumming in my blood. And it’s becoming harder to silence.
Despite my valiant efforts to ignore my body’s automatic responses to Emma over the last few days, I’m starting to realize it’s all been in vain. The intensity of my desire for her has only magnified to the point of frustration.
I pull my eyes away from her lips and focus on eating my half of the sandwich.
“So how do you think tonight went?” she asks. “On a scale from one to ten? One being not convincing at all and ten being we nailed it.”
I chew slowly, taking a moment to think about my answer. While I’m doing a full analysis of the evening, an idea starts to form. It’s introduced by the version of me that married Emma in Vegas. The man that has desires and wants; the longing to take something for himself, escape from the responsibilities he’s shouldered all his life. I should know not to listen. That’s exactly the thinking that landed me here in the first place, but just like my awareness of Emma, that man, the one with wants and desires of his own, is becoming harder to ignore. Looking at Emma propped up on the bar stool, her tiny shorts revealing smooth, toned legs, the hardened peaks of her nipples are just visible as they graze against the soft cotton of her thin tank top, my resolve weakens.
Fuck it.
“A seven,” I practically growl.
Emma takes a drink of water. “What? I was thinking a solid nine. Where do you see room for improvement?”
“When I touch you, you either jump in shock, or you giggle.”
Her lips pinch together. “Perfectly normal reactions under the circumstances, I think.”
“Under the circumstances that we don’t have a physical relationship?”
“Exactly.”
“I think that’s something we need to work on.”
To prove my point, I let my knuckles trail along the inside of Emma’s knee. Her knees snap together, sandwiching my hand between them and she starts to laugh.
She releases my hand and I pull back reluctantly.
“That’s not fair. My knees are ticklish.”
“And when I kissed you on the boat, I could tell you were surprised. It took a good five seconds for you to relax.”
“Well, I was surprised. I was talking to my ex and then you came out of nowhere to lay one on me.”
