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“Where are we going?” I ask when he doesn’t take the road that will lead us back to the clubhouse.
“Lunch.”
“I’m not exactly dressed for a date,” I say, waiting for him to deny that’s what this will be.
I know it’s not exactly mature to test him this way, but it’s always hot and cold with him. He’ll brush his lips against mine, but I haven’t felt the sweep of his tongue since that very first time he kissed me. I crave that from him. When he mentioned taking things slowly, I had no idea he meant that the continents would shift on their tectonic plates faster.
“You always look beautiful,” he says rather than arguing.
As he continues to drive, I busy myself with tangling my fingers together. I know what I want to talk about, but I can’t seem to garner the courage to bring the sex club back up. I overheard several of the guys talking about it yesterday because the day they picked is tomorrow. Emmett hasn’t brought it up either, making me think he has no interest in going. Either that or he wants to go alone. The thought makes my stomach sour, and I doubt I’ll be able to eat anything because of it.
“Do you like Italian?” he asks, pulling up to a small, locally owned bistro. “This place is new. I haven’t tried it yet. There’s a new steakhouse out on the highway too, if this doesn’t interest you.”
“This looks great.” I attempt a smile, but the idea that he’ll go to Denver with his friends and hookup with someone else saddens me. I find myself struggling to hide it.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s just been a busy day already.”
I wasn’t joking about being underdressed. When we step inside we are welcomed by a man in a suit and a tie.
Emmett doesn’t appear at all out of place despite his jeans and leather vest. My body lights on fire when he guides me through the restaurant with his hand on my hip. I don’t get a moment of reprieve when he chooses to sit beside me rather than across from me, despite the host placing the menus on opposite sides of the table.
“Your server Courtney will be with you shortly,” the host says before walking away.
“He thought I was your dad or something,” Emmett mutters as he reaches for his menu on the far side of the table.
“He didn’t,” I argue.
“Then he’s an asshole because his eyes did a full body scan the second you walked inside. Not that I can blame the guy. You look edible today.”
I swallow down a grin, my lips still tugging up in the corner.
“So you claim me in front of some guy who doesn’t matter, but you won’t do it at the clubhouse in front of the guys you work with.”
He shifts, his thigh rubbing against mine, and I swear I see arcs of electricity sparking between our bodies.
“I don’t have to claim you at the clubhouse, Devyn. Everyone there already knows you’re mine.”
I tilt my head to the side, unwilling to let his words sink too deep inside. This is freaking news to me.
“Yours?” I argue. “How is that possible when you won’t even kiss me?”
In that same frustrating way he does when he first sees me and then again when we part ways for the evening, he leans in, brushing his lips against mine and pulling back before I can take it further.
“I kiss you all the time,” he says, his words low, meant for only me to hear.
A frustrated growl leaves my lips when he grins. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Can I interest you in a glass of wine or a draft beer?”
I feel like a queen when he’s slow to pull his eyes from mine before looking up at the waitress.
“She’s not—”
“Water with lemon, please,” I say before he can let the world know I’m not old enough to drink.
“I’ll have the same,” he says, his cheek twitching as if he knows exactly what I just did.
“Any appetizers?”
“We need a little time to look at the menu,” Emmett tells her with a smile.
Despite her walking up to us almost kissing, she still looks at him like she has a chance.
“Are you flirting with the waitress right in front of me?”
His eyes snap to mine. “No, Devyn. I’d never disrespect you like that.”
“Because I’m sitting right here?”
“Even if you weren’t,” he declares. “I’m not that kind of guy.”
“So you aren’t going to hook up with someone else tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night?”
“The guys are going to the club. I presumed you were going with them, seeing as you have a gift card and all.” Even using all my might, I still can’t manage to keep the bitterness out of my tone.
“I figured you were going to go, too.”
