Chapter 11
963 Words
Emma opened her eyes, feeling unsettled.
This doesn’t seem like my bed. Am I at home?
That’s when she felt a large, warm body pressed up next to hers, and it all came back to her. Picking up Dean at the bar, coming home with him. Coming against his mouth; coming with him inside her.
His arm was draped over her waist, his breath warm in her hair. She closed her eyes for a few more seconds to enjoy the feel of his chest against her cheek, then she moved. Slowly, carefully, listening for changes in his breathing, she slid out from under him. When she was clear, she sat up quietly and swung her legs off the bed. Using her phone as a flashlight, she gathered up her clothing and crept to the living room.
In the half-light of the approaching dawn, she dressed, listening for any sounds from down the hallway. All was silent and still, and she felt relieved that she could just sneak out and away. Well, relieved and also a bit regretful. Dean had been amazing: gentle and sexy as hell. Not to mention a mind-blowing lover. He’d given her exactly what she'd needed the night before, and she’d always be grateful to him for that, she knew.
She opened the front door, holding her breath the whole time. Once she got outside, she felt better and when she got into her car, she was able to fully relax. She started the engine and pulled away from his house right away, not wanting the sound to wake him up and have him come looking for her.
Emma forced herself to keep looking forward, towards the rising sun. And if she maybe looked back in the rearview mirror once or twice, well, that was fine. A few looks back never hurt anyone, did they?
****
Dean was out on his front porch having a coffee and trying not to think about Emma’s sweet, clean scent left on his pillow, when he heard voices next door. He looked over to see Dallas and the redhead from the night before.
“Take care, darlin’,” Dallas was drawling at her.
She nodded and headed down the porch steps. She glanced over and saw Dean; he raised his coffee cup in greeting.
“How you doing?” he called over.
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Good, handsome. Maybe next time we all meet up, I’ll be walking down your steps the next morning.”
Dallas rolled his eyes behind her back.
“Maybe so,” Dean said. “You have a good day now.”
“You too.” She got into the taxi waiting at the curb and was gone.
Dallas wandered over to Dean’s house, yawning.
“Coffee?” Dean said.
“Hell, yeah.”
“Go on, then,” Dean said. “Help yourself.”
Dallas went into the kitchen and poured a huge cup of black coffee, inhaling the aroma gratefully. He came back to Dean’s porch and sat down, put his feet up on the railing.
“So,” he said. “Where’s yours?”
Dean shrugged, trying to act like he didn’t care either way. “Gone. Snuck out on me. Didn’t even hear her leave.”
Dallas sighed and took a gulp of coffee. “God, I love when they do that… spares me all the morning-after crap. This one had to have a shower and a coffee before I could shift her ass out. I think at one point she was angling for breakfast.”
“Awkward.”
“No s**t. What were we supposed to talk about over scrambled eggs and toast, you know? Also, was I actually expected to f*****g cook?”
Dean laughed. “What are you up to today?”
“Back to bed for a few hours, then I’m on duty tonight. You?”
“I have to go into work this afternoon. I’ve got some clients lined up.”
“Nice.” Dallas looked at Dean and c****d his head. “So… this chick last night. What’s her story?”
“Emma?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Emma. Not your usual type, huh?”
“I guess not.” He grinned at Dallas, eager to change the subject. “You’re going to like this, I promise you.”
Dallas sat up straight. “What? What am I going to like?”
“She’s a personal assistant.”
Dallas paused. “Uh, yeah? So?”
“Well, she’s the personal assistant for Olivia Jameson.”
Dallas’ eyes widened. “Get the f**k out.”
“No lie, man.”
“Olivia Jameson.” Dallas blinked. “Does Emma get to go to the bikini photo shoots and hold Olivia’s phone or something?”
“Yep. She goes to all the photo shoots. She also gets to handle all the s**t like hotels and lunch delivery and dry cleaning. She takes care of the woman’s whole life and schedule. Tons of work, sounds like.”
“Uh-huh. So, you going to see her again?”
Dean looked at him. “You’re asking for me, or because you want her to introduce you to a hot redheaded model?”
“Hey!” Dallas said, indignant. “Both, of course.”
“Well, you’re out of luck, man. She didn’t leave me a number when she disappeared in the middle of the night.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.”
“Now I’ll never meet Olivia Jameson.” Dallas looked devastated. “Never, never. So close, but so far.”
“You’ll get over it,” Dean said. “As soon as next weekend and one more redhead at Shooter’s, I bet.”
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