Emily shifted on her feet, her breath catching in the back of her throat. “Well, I’m sorry. I have a boyfriend.”
“I assumed you did,” he replied, casually crossing his legs. “It would seem almost impossible for you not to have one.”
“You assumed I did, yet you’re still asking me for my number?”
With the stroke of his gaze shifting to her left hand, he smiled. “Yes, but I don’t see a ring on your finger, and while there’s
not
a ring on your finger, there still may be hope for me.”
Emily raised an incredulous brow. “So you’re basically saying that you’re a cheater?”
“I’ve said no such thing,” he laughed.
Smiling, she tilted her head to the side. “Well, you’re assuming that I would cheat on my boyfriend to go out on a date with you, so that right there makes you a cheater.”
“I’m hoping you’ll
break up
with your boyfriend and go out on a date with me,” he quickly countered with a wry curving of his lips. “That right there makes me an honest man.”
She started writing down his order. “Honest, no. Conceited, yes.”
“I prefer to use the term hopeful,” he replied, studying the way she nervously bit her lip. “Can I at least get the name of the breathtakingly beautiful waitress who’s taking care of me then?”
Heated by his words, but not wanting to reveal her real name, Emily simply replied, “Molly. My name’s Molly.”
Gavin opened his mouth to speak when Antonio called out from across the restaurant.
“Country, you have a phone call.”
Emily unwillingly tore her attention from Gavin. She sauntered over to the host station where Fallon stood with a curious look molding her face.
“Well, what did he say?” Fallon asked.
Emily frowned. “He has a girlfriend.”
“Fuck, and I waited, too,” she blurted out. Picking up her purse, she headed out the door. “Guess the old man will have to do for now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After a wave to bid Fallon goodbye, Emily reached for the phone and found it was Dillon calling to make plans for the evening. After they hung up, she was glad that he called. It brought her thoughts back to where she knew they should be. Drawing in a deep breath, she strolled over to the computer and entered Gavin’s order. She greeted a family of three and completed her side work for the day.
Eventually, she risked a glance over to Gavin when she took a seat at the coffee bar to wait for his order. She felt inordinately overwhelmed as their eyes met and locked. She was confused. She didn’t know why she was shaken by his gaze and hated the fact that she actually
liked
the way he stared at her. Emily suddenly snapped from her coma-like daze when she heard one of the cooks call for her. She went into the kitchen, picked up Gavin’s food, and grabbed a coffee pot.
“One Asiago cheese and portabella mushroom panini sandwich with spinach,” she said, placing it down in front of him. “And here’s a little more coffee for you.”
“Thank you.” Gavin’s eyes flicked to her neck as she leaned over to pour the coffee, the sweet scent of her body teasing his nose. Picturing his lips sliding against her beautiful skin, he brought his attention back to her face and gave her a smile. He cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the vision.
Emily’s heart thumped erratically as he stared at her. “Can I get you anything else for now?”
“Actually, yes. I’m sorry,” he said, trying to pull himself from the odd spell she’d cast on him. “I received a call notifying me that I need to get back to the office. Can you bring me a box to put this in?”
“Oh…I’m sorry it took so long,” she said, picking up the plate. “I’ll just put it in a box for you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I should’ve said something earlier.” He rose to his feet, shrugging into his suit jacket. “Take your time.”
Emily turned away, striding toward the kitchen door.
Gavin took out a business card and two $100 bills. He wrapped them around the card and covered it up with a $5 bill.
Emily returned with the box and handed it to him. “Again, I’m sorry it took so long,” she said, staring into his eyes. Her senses automatically became heated again.
Gavin leaned himself in, inches from her face. Reaching for her hand, he placed the money-wrapped card in her palm, his breath soft against her ear. “And I told you not to worry about it.”
Emily froze as her breathing became as ragged as her heartbeat. His warm breath so close to her body almost sent her over the edge. He radiated a palpable, sexual energy that she couldn’t deny—and she was pretty damn sure that no other warm-blooded female would be able to resist either. Unable to form a sentence, she didn’t answer as she looked up into his eyes.
His mouth curved into an alluring smile. “Call me if you change your mind, Molly.”
With that, he turned and walked out the door while the eyes of every woman in the restaurant followed him.
Emily let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She thumbed through the cash not only shocked to see how much he’d tipped her, but that he’d left his card, too. Blank side up, she fought with herself to not turn it over. She let out a sigh, inwardly furious at herself, as she tried to brush thoughts about this man out of her head. It was no use. He was invading every corner of her mind.
She couldn’t deny that she found him beyond attractive; she’d been startled into staring the first time she saw him. There was something mysterious about his eyes, which were a shade of blue so light they almost begged her to submit to him, obey him, and do some of the naughtiest things with him that her mind could conjure up. Maybe it was the curve of his cheekbones, which fell slightly short of being too high. Possibly, it was the smooth, raspy tone of his voice, which basically disarmed her every cognitive thought the first time he talked to her.
Of course he has a bedroom voice to go with those bedroom eyes.
He was definitely a fuckable, bedroom-voice-and-eyes-bearing specimen. Fuckable or not, Emily knew she’d have to resist as long as her sanity ruled over her subconscious mind. It took everything she had in her to make her way into the kitchen without looking at his name and contact number. Against every sexual demon in her head that screamed at her to go for it, she threw the card into the garbage, her fingers tingling from its absence.
Chapter Three
Deep Breaths
Over the next few days, Emily reluctantly unpacked the rest of her belongings that had arrived late from a hold up at the shipping company. Tonight, if it killed her, she would clear out the last of the items. Olivia helped her sift through years of memories. Those memories were all Emily had left, and she clung to them like they were her last heartbeats. The final item in the box took the breath from her, tightening her chest and spinning her emotions out of control. Sighing, Emily slumped on her bed, clinging to a photo showcasing the proud smile of her mother at her high-school graduation. The barrier that she had fought so hard to build over the last few months broke, and the tears came tumbling down. The reality of what had happened—the unwavering fact that she would never see her mother again—hit her hard in that moment.
Sadness clouded Olivia's eyes as she watched her friend crumble. “I don’t know what to say, Emily. I wish I could take this pain and hurt away from you.”
Unblinking, Emily reached out her hand, taking Olivia’s in her own. She was thankful that she had her there. The two friends shared a few minutes, neither saying a word, knowing nothing more could be said.
Standing up, Emily cast a withering smile at her and hastily wiped the tears from both their cheeks. She gave Olivia a hug and sauntered to the bathroom. She was exhausted—not only mentally but also physically. Working three doubles in a row, the last few days caught up with her, and she was looking forward to a relaxing evening on the couch with Dillon. Making her way into the shower, she tried to purge her mind of anything that had to do with her mom. It was difficult, but nonetheless, she did it. Once out, she slid into a pair of comfortable pajamas and set herself up on the couch with a glass of much-needed wine.
After a while, Olivia walked into the living room, wearing a red summer dress with her hair pinned-up off her shoulders and a clutch in her hand.
She eyed Emily, hopeful. “Just come out with Tina and me tonight. It will do justice to your mood.”
Giving Olivia a smile, Emily thought about her friend’s new love endeavor, Tina Reed, a twenty-four-year-old graduate of Columbia University. Having been burned by too many men in her past, Olivia swore them off for the time being, deciding women might suit her better.
Sighing, Emily tossed her hand through her hair. “I really just want to relax the night away.” She picked up the bottle of red wine and smiled. “I plan on polishing this off, too.”
Olivia placed a kiss on top of her head. “Okay, but if for some reason you change your mind, just call my cell.”
Emily nodded, and Olivia walked out the door.
Glancing at the clock, Emily noted it was a quarter past ten. Knowing that Dillon should’ve been there already, she wondered if another late night meeting had held him up. Her thoughts didn’t stray too far when her phone rang a half hour later. It was Dillon calling to announce that he was celebrating a new account out at a club in SoHo. He insisted that she meet him down there. Emily tried to argue that she was exhausted and already settled in for the night, but he wouldn’t relent, his dissatisfaction traveling through the phone. Letting out a sigh, Emily succumbed to his demand, dragged herself into her room, and prepared for an evening out despite her emotional and physical state.
It can’t be her
, Gavin thought to himself, adjusting his eyes across the dimly lit club. He rubbed his palm over his face, staring in her direction. It was though. Molly—the waitress that never called him. Molly—the waitress that tugged at every sense, every fiber, and every male instinct in his body. Molly—the waitress that looked more ravishing now than he could’ve ever imagined. Gavin watched as she moved across the club, making her way through the endless bodies pressed against each other.
His eyes feasted upon her long auburn hair that spilled over her shoulders onto a tight black dress that fell just above her knees. The perfect amount of cleavage and neck burned a hole into his mind, awakening the undeniable primal urge he had to claim her. His eyes devoured her legs—sleek, long, and shapely—that came to a rest in black heels. Raking his hands through his hair, Gavin couldn’t help but feel the quickening in his heart as she approached.
He went to move toward her, talk to her, breathe in her scent, but a modest cough from Dillon reluctantly broke his gaze from hers.
“I see you looking, Blake, but she’s mine,” Dillon remarked, a crooked smile twisting his lips.
Gavin’s mouth fell open as if to speak, but nothing came out. His blue eyes swung over to the beautiful woman who had invaded his world a few days ago and then shifted back to Dillon.
“Wait, that’s…Emily?” Gavin asked, palpable confusion taking over his face.
“Yeah, man. I told you she was fucking gorgeous.” Dillon motioned for Emily to hurry up where she seemed to be frozen and rooted in one spot a few feet away.
Gavin took a long pull from his beer, a lump forming in his throat as he leaned himself against the bar. Unable to look away, he maintained eye contact with the woman that his friend just proclaimed was his.
Chewing on her lip, Emily tried to keep her panic at bay when she saw Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fuckable Handsome with Dillon. The air seemed to shift thick. Her balance was knocked askew with every step.
There’s no way they could possibly know each other. This is Manhattan for Christ’s sake
, Emily thought to herself.
Each beat of her heart pounded harder the closer she got. A curious yet boyish smile rounded Gavin’s lips as a kiss of a dimple indented itself on his cheek. His piercing blue eyes were intense, unblinking in her direction. Emily’s gaze flicked down to his chest, the planes of his pectorals visible under his shirt. If it were possible, he looked even more handsome, relaxed in his casual attire of a black, V-neck T-shirt and jeans that hung perfectly on his waist. His eyes seemed to delve into her and smother every bit of oxygen from her lungs. Taking a long cleansing breath with sweat beading on her brow, Emily approached the two men, trying to focus solely on Dillon.