Page 42 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

Which is good. Because I’m officially freaking the hell out.

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emmett

Maddie: Pics or it didn’t happen.

I rollmy eyes at the text from my sister, but quickly reply with a full-length picture of me in tonight’s outfit.

I can’t be mad at Maddie’s interest in what I’m wearing. This is the consequence of my actions. I’m the one who texted her earlier today, asking what someone would wear to a five-star seafood restaurant. She wanted to know why I needed to know. I said it was none of her business. After a slew of messages going back and forth, she declared that I had a date and she wasn’t going to be convinced of anything else.

I didn’t correct her.

In my defense, I was desperate. So desperate I not only recruited Maddie for fashion advice, I actually went to a men’s store, where I bought three button-down shirts, four pairs of dress pants, two ties, a suit jacket, shoes, and a vest. Maybe more. I was scared to check the bags.

I don’t know how it happened. One second I was asking my salesman, Javier, to help me find a simple white shirt and black pants for my dinner tonight with Stella. I think Javier put something in the cucumber water he gave me, because the next thing Iknow, I’m staring at a total I’ve never seen at a clothing store in my life.

I don’t wear dress clothes. I’m a jeans and T-shirts guy to my core. In the fall and winter it’s flannels. My “nice” clothes that I brought for this trip are a white short-sleeve button-down and a pair of khaki shorts. And even if I were at home, the options I’d have for date clothes would be skimp. I don’t date, therefore I don’t have date clothes.

Except apparently tonight I do date. Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

And thatiswhat I said.

Though I didn’t mean it. Not like that, anyway. It just slipped out.

This isn’t a date. This is a friend wanting to help another friend. A guy wanting to give a girl a nice night out. A man not wanting a woman to feel self-conscious eating alone at a restaurant.

That’s what I’m playing on repeat in my head. Because if that loop stops for even a second then I’m going to think this is a date.

And it’s not. It can’t be.

This is Simon Banks’s sister. The little sister of my boss and best friend. Then there’s that whole fact that she’s at least a decade younger than me. I’m sure there are more reasons why this can’t be a date, but those three are strong enough for me to take hold of.

Maddie: Looking good, big brother. Have fun on your date!

Emmett: Not a date.

Maddie: Then what is it?

Emmett: Dinner.

Maddie: With a woman?

Emmett: None of your business.

Maddie: That’s all the answer I need Have fun!

“Pain in the ass,” I groan as I pocket my phone. I grab my wallet, put on my watch, and give myself a spray of cologne. I’m usually not a big cologne guy but Javier gave it to me today and said it was a gift with purchase.

I think he just felt bad for drugging me.

A few minutes later I take the short walk from the beach house I’m staying at and knock on Stella’s door. I fidget for a second, pushing my hands in my pockets, before taking them out and playing with the new watch. I’m about to start messing with the buttons on my cuffs when I hear the door open.

I think I stop breathing. I don’t mean to stare, but how can I not? Stella is standing in front of me looking like a god damn goddess.

She’s wearing a sparkly gold dress that should be illegal. The deep, low vee in the front is breaking the laws of physics. How is it covering what it needs to while tempting me in the most infuriating way? The sleeves are long but fitted to her toned arms. And the skirt? It’s so short I have to swallow a moan and will my cock to behave. As my eyes continue to travel down her tanned legs I see that she paired the outfit with a pair of stiletto heels that make my knees nearly give out.

There’s something about a woman in heels that has always done it for me. And Stella can fucking wear a pair of heels. How well? So well that I’m starting to say fuck the age gap and conveniently forget that she’s my best friend’s sister.

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