Chapter 5
993 Words
She blinked at his one-word answer but Dallas accepted it with good grace, his blue eyes sparkling. “OK. Nice to meet you, Emma.”
He wandered away and she watched him go. Yeah, he was a good-looking guy, no matter which direction he was facing.
“Huh,” she said. “The four of you look like a group of bodyguards or something.”
“Actually, Dallas is a bodyguard.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” He took a sip of beer. “He runs a protection service, has a staff of fifteen people. All highly-trained and totally professional. Dallas and his team are one of the most in-demand outfits on the market.”
“And what do you do?”
“Nothing so glamorous, I’m afraid. I own a tattoo parlour and Jim over there is one of my employees.”
“Wow,” she said. “You’re both tattoo artists?”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “And Chris works at a garage. He’s the best mechanic I’ve ever known, but really, the man should build furniture. You wouldn’t believe what he can do with wood and some tools.”
“You’re quite a mixed bag.”
“We are. What about you? Where are your friends?” He looked around.
“Uh, well. I’m here on my own.”
Dean looked down at her. “That’s not really safe, is it, Emma?”
“No, I know.” She fiddled with her shirt button and his eyes were drawn to her breasts. “And I’ve never done this before. I just – I had kind of a rough day and I decided to just stop for a drink as I passed the bar. I didn’t plan it, it was totally spur of the moment.”
OK, that’s the first lie of the night that I’m telling the hot guy.
“Rough day, huh?" Dean said. “What happened?”
She shrugged. “Oh, just my job. You know how it is… some days are just lousy.”
He leaned back and looked at her. “So what do you do, Emma?”
“I’m a PA.”
Lie number two… keep 'em coming, girl.
“PA? Personal assistant?”
“Yeah. Kind of a glorified secretary.”
That explained the tight black skirt and heels, then. “So – what?” Dean said. “You run the boss’ schedule?”
“Uh-huh, and that’s just for starters. I handle all her personal stuff too and make all her travel arrangements – and she travels a lot – and all the press.”
“Press? This person is famous?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Who? Can you tell me?”
“Have you ever heard of Olivia Jameson?”
Dean whistled. “Sure I have. Local girl turned supermodel who rocks the bikini shoots for every men’s magazine on the market.”
“That’s her.”
“Man, Dallas loves her.”
“Oh, yeah?” She grinned as she looked over at the table again. “He does seem to have a thing for redheads.”
“Sure does. Olivia Jameson is his dream redhead, I can assure you. Wait ‘til I tell him who you are – you’ll never get rid of him.”
Emma giggled.
“So what happened today that was so bad?” Dean asked.
She froze. “What?”
“You said you had a bad day. What happened?”
“Oh,” she said. “Nothing major. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Lie number three.
****
An hour later, Dean was about to burn up with his wanting to kiss her.
Emma was just so damn sexy, in all kinds of surprising ways. She was clearly smart as hell, her smile lit up the whole damn room, and the way she looked at him when he was talking made him feel like he was the only guy in the bar with her. Those eyes just zeroed right in on him, attentive and almost unblinking. He’d never felt so listened to by a woman, ever. He was shocked how much he liked it, to know that she was fully present in the conversation, that his words weren’t just empty blather to kill time before they got down to f*****g.
But would he be taking her home? Dean still didn’t know. If it were any other woman in the place, he’d be damn sure of it: Shooter’s was the kind of bar where when a guy bought you a drink, it was an accepted invitation. Emma, though, didn’t look like the type of woman who understood the rules of that kind of game. She’d just stopped by for a drink after a bad day, after all; she hadn’t walked in looking to get laid. Every once in a while, though, he caught a hot gleam of interest in those amazing eyes, and that made him think that he had a chance with her.
She was sitting down on a stool now and he leaned over her a bit, testing her reaction to him getting into her personal space. With every inch of his body, he didn’t want her to pull away. Dean wanted her to want him, too.
When Dean moved closer to her, close enough that his hand brushed her knee, Emma almost sighed with relief. She had no idea how to make a move to show him that she was interested, and she was counting on him to take the lead here. If he asked, her answer was yes.
He paused, gauged her body language at his touch. When she didn’t back away, he moved in a bit closer, closer again. He was so close to that sweet mouth now, his left arm extended to its full length on the bar next to her, her knees touching his thighs. Dean stared down at her, saw the way her pupils dilated.
- Writer
