Don't Lie to Me (3 page)

Dean smiled and rose from his seat when I reached the table. A pleasant smile appeared on his lips. I didn’t bother hiding mine. The first thing I noticed about him was his pale blue eyes, or light gray. I couldn’t tell in the light but whatever color, they were some of the lightest, almost crystal clear eyes I’d ever seen. His smile and shaggy blonde hair that curled just a bit at the ears made him even more attractive to me instantly. He looked playful, but yet still polished; the perfect blend of casualness and wealth. I groaned inwardly at the thought that I might actually have to admit to Macy that this date was a good idea.

I shook his hand when he extended it. “Dean Neilson. Nice to meet you, Emma.”

“You too.” I nodded and sat down as he pulled out the chair across the table from him before returning to his own seat.

“So…” we both started at the same time and laughed at our own awkwardness after our waiter left with our drink orders.

I waved him on. “You first.”

“I was just going to say that Macy didn’t do you justice when she described how beautiful you are, but I stopped when I realized how much of a perv that would make me sound like.” He smiled sheepishly and I couldn’t stop another laugh. His laugh was infectious and Macy was right, he was hot with his clear eyes and button down navy blue dress shirt that fit perfectly across his chest and broad shoulders when he moved his arms.

“It’s a little pervy….I’ll let it slide.”

We clinked our glasses together and fell into a nice conversation. Dean had two brothers and a sister and was the baby of all of them. All four siblings helped run his family-owned corporate construction company until their dad retired and they could take it over fully. Based on how he described his family, they seemed like a Rockwell painting: perfect, normal, and a tiny bit old-fashioned.

“If you’re so close to your family, why’d you spend so much time in DC?” I asked right as our server brought back a delicious plate of scallop linguini. I moaned softly to myself when I tasted my first bite, the scallops practically melted in my mouth.

He shrugged unashamedly. “I always knew I was going to come back someday and help run the business; I just wanted to stretch my wings a bit, first. I wanted to prove to myself that I was a good engineer and wasn’t just using my parent’s name.”

I appreciated his candor and honesty and felt immediately guilty for judging him so harshly before. He noticed.

“Let me guess,” he asked, “you assumed you were meeting a spoiled little rich boy who lived off his parent’s wealth?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled a little bit but relaxed again as he just brushed me off.

“What about your family?”
“I’m an only child. My parents live on a ranch in Texas.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “What brought you up to Chicago?”

I leaned back and smiled at the memory of the day I met Macy on our first day at DePaul. I was a naïve southern girl and she was a local, rich debutante and sorority girl extraordinaire while I was wide eye-eyed and completely blown away by all the things in the city. Fortunately for me, she took me under her wing, showed me how to get around the city and I never wanted to leave.

“Small town…farmers….” I wrinkled my nose in disgust teasingly. “I had to get away and see something more important than the Texas flag plastered on every Chevy truck in town. I got a partial scholarship to DePaul. Came here, met Macy, fell in love, and never left.”

“Fell in love?” He asked and based on the sparkle in his eye when he asked, I knew Dean and I were going to be great friends. Macy gave the same look when she wanted the good gossip.

“I meant the city; but there was a guy, too. He left after I got pregnant.”

“You have a kid?” He asked, shocked.

“Macy didn’t tell you?” That was odd. She always told guys she wanted to hook me up with I had Logan just so I didn’t have to tell them and have an awkward moment like this one.

He shook his head. “No, but that’s great. How old is he?”

“He’ll be five in a couple of weeks. His name is Logan.”

Our friendly banter continued through dinner as I shared stories of Logan and heard about his nieces and nephews from his oldest brother and sister. He was great to talk to, and definitely easy on the eyes, but the more I got to know him, the more I felt like the chemistry between us was of the friendship variety, and not the I-want-to-jump-your-bones variety. I let him pay the check after we were finished before he walked me to my car.

“Would it be a horrible way to end the date if I said it feels like you’re my sister?" I laughed, loudly, at his question when we reached my car.

“No…I was feeling the same way.”

He placed a hand over his chest like he was wounded. I slapped it away with no pretense or stress of an actual date. “I didn’t mean that you’re a girl. Just that I feel like you’re my brother or something.”

He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I had a great night with you. Can we hang out again sometime?”

I kissed him back and just as I expected, only felt a friendly affection when I pressed my lips to his cheek.

What I didn’t expect was to immediately hear the voice that caused butterflies on a daily basis to come from behind me.

Jack McMillan’s voice sent shivers down my spine instantly.

I looked up at Dean, whose face had lost all friendly appearance and turned to Jack. He looked stunning in his black dress pants, perfectly pressed white shirt even though it was nearing eight o’clock at night, a dark purple tie I had just bought him that week, and short brown hair I almost daily wished I could run my fingers through.

“Hey, Jack.” I said breathlessly. I couldn’t help myself. I looked back to Dean and introduced them watching them size each other up as only men can do when they’re in the presence of competition. Except I wasn’t anyone’s prize so it left me feeling confused.

Dean leaned in my ear and spoke quietly. “Call me sometime. We can double with Macy and Tate.”

I smiled up at him. “Absolutely. I’ll see you later. It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too.” He gave me another quick kiss on the cheek goodnight before turning around and walking to his car down the street.

I watched him walk away for just a second and took a deep breath before turning back to Jack.

“How are you, Jack?”

His focused gazed was still on where Dean had walked away. It made my insides swirl when I realized Jack was tenser than I normally saw him. Surely he wasn’t jealous, was he? I brushed the ridiculous thought from my mind instantly, but not before a slight blush crept on my cheeks.

Jack noticed when he turned his eyes towards me. “Good date?”

The deep timbre of his voice made my stomach do flip-flops. What was wrong with me? I had worked with this guy for five years and I’d always found him attractive and completely sexy, but lately whenever he talked to me I felt like a girl getting ready for her first date; all weak kneed and stuttering with nerves. It wasn’t like me at all, but something happened to me whenever Jack focused his dark brown eyes on me, much like he was doing now. I swallowed slowly.

“We had a nice dinner.”

“Doesn’t look like it went that well if it’s over so soon.” He spoke with the same tightness in his voice he had the night before. I felt just as unsettled as I did then, too. His masculine hands clenched into fists at his sides before opening and stretching. I wondered for just a second what those hands would feel like on me and brushed it away before I completely embarrassed myself. That was just stupid. Jack had never looked at me with any sort of interest beyond a professional capacity. He wasn’t jealous or anything else towards me except maybe, protective like Tate.

Thinking of my date reminded me that he had one that night too. With Jessica. The very thought of the overly botoxed and breast implanted Barbie doll made me grimace.

“He was nice. How’s Jessica, weren’t you supposed to go to the Opera with her tonight or something?”

That time it was Jack who flinched visibly. “I ended it with her.”

I smiled inwardly. Jessica had obviously reached her three date limit one date too soon. I simply nodded in understanding. I’d worked with him long enough to know that he didn’t get close to anyone; except for maybe Logan. Jack was kind to him and I was thankful that besides Tate, there was another man in Logan’s life willing to teach him about all the important boy things, like how to play video games. It was something Jack had been much more willing to do in the last year when he got home early and I wasn’t done cooking dinner for him.

I smiled as I thought about how comfortable the two had looked together the prior week when I walked in on Jack teaching Logan how to play Madden NFL on his Playstation. One muscular arm draped around Logan’s tiny shoulder as he described which buttons did what. I knew he meant nothing by it, just being friendly to him, but to me - and Logan especially - it meant everything.

I played with my hair nervously for a second before smiling and wrinkling my nose. “She was pretty bad, Jack.”

A slight smile appeared on his lips, forming just enough to cause a dimple on his left cheek to appear. I loved that dimple.

“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I did. She came from a perfectly well-groomed family, was stunningly gorgeous and had a brain the size of a pea; the exact replica of all the other women I had seen him date over the last few years. I wanted to ask him why he always chose the women who were just after his name and his money but I bit my tongue. My job wasn’t to advise him on his personal life, just schedule it.

He nodded towards an Irish Pub a few doors down. “I was going to head in for a drink. Want to join me?”

I hesitated for a moment as I tried to figure out what was going on. Ten minutes ago I was on a date with Dean, laughing about Logan flushing his Lego people down the toilet and now I was standing on the sidewalk, with Jack.

I glanced down at my watch. It was just after eight. Logan would still be awake and I knew Macy wasn’t expecting me home, or at least hoping I wouldn’t come home, for hours yet. I had no reason to decline other than the thought of spending time alone with him right now sent my nerves into overdrive.

I nodded and tried my hardest not to jump when his hand lightly touched the small of my back as he led me through the doors into the small and musty bar.

I scrunched my nose at him once we were sitting on stools at the small bar. “This doesn’t seem like a place you would normally hang out at.”

I eyed the traditional Irish decorations and beer logos all over the wall. There were bowls of shelled peanuts along the bar and booths, the floor littered with shell crumbs. It looked much dingier than the places I normally planned for his dates and nights out with clients.

He turned to the bar and raised two fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “What do you want to drink?” he asked when the bartender walked towards us, white towel haphazardly slung over his shoulder.

“Vodka tonic, please.” He eyed me suspiciously at my choice before he turned and ordered a simple bottled Budweiser. My stomach felt like a thousand butterflies had taken residence and I needed something stronger than the glass of red wine I had earlier with Dean.

“You’re also not a Budweiser guy either.” I didn’t bother hiding my smile. I did all the shopping for Jack, and in five years, I had bought every type of alcoholic beverage you could imagine. Never was there anything on his list as simple as a Bud heavy.

The corners of his lips twitched slightly. “I can be a normal, hangout and drink a beer kind of guy.”

“Sure you can,” I deadpanned. I looked around the bar again and for the second time wondered why Jack would be in a place like this. It wasn’t bad. Macy and I came here often with Tate, but it was just a long way from the Streeterville hi-rise where Jack lived. It was even farther from where the Opera was, and nowhere near Jessica’s house.

“Why are you here, Jack?” I asked him after a couple sips of my drink.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took a long swig of his beer without removing his eyes from mine. He set it down, and wiped his lips with his thumb.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He sounded like he hated himself for his admission.

It irritated me, again. I leaned a bit away from him and crossed my arms. “So, you followed me?”