Page 29 of Blitzing Emily

“When she wants something, she goes after it. Nothing stops her.”

“It would seem to me that the two of you might have more in common than you think. You seem fairly motivated, too.”

“Not that kind of motivation.” Amy had opened her flower shop with no financial help from their parents or anything else besides a standard small-business loan. She had left a solid, secure career to risk everything following her dream. “I’m so proud of her.”

Emily saw the dimple in his cheek deepen. She had spent only twenty-four hours with him, but she knew already that he concealed something he wasn’t about to tell her. Then again, maybe he was.

“Oh, no motivation at all,” he observed. His voice was as dry as the champagne he’d just taken another sip of. “You got into a highly exclusive training program as a teen. You graduated from a leading conservatory and have a grad degree from Juilliard. You’ve been working your ass off for the last eighteen years singing all over the world.” He put the glass back down on the table. “What happens when you’re motivated?”

Emily wondered if she was about to spend the next month with her mouth hanging open. “Maybe I didn’t explain that well,” she told him. “How do you know all this stuff, anyway?”

“It’s surprising what you can find out with a Google search,” he said lazily and leaned back against the booth again.

“You borrowed my ring, you searched my closets, and you used mylaptop.Wait till we get home. I’m searching on you, too. It’s on, like Donkey Kong.”

“You could ask me questions instead,” he observed.

“Well, that’s no fun,” she said. “Where am I going to get the dirt?”

“I might tell you some of that, too.” He drained his glass. “Then again, maybe not. A man needs a few secrets. Speaking of secrets, I understand that Cheryl the nurse thinks I’m a horn dog.” He took a large bite of salad, and gave Emily an expectant look.

“Aren’t you?” He choked on the salad. She patted him on the back till he stopped coughing. She reached out for the bottle of champagne and poured him another glass. “Sorry,” she teased.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

Emily couldn’t stop laughing with him. The longer they talked, the more she felt tension drain out of her. She realized with a shock that she felt safe with him, and it wasn’t just because he towered over the other guys in the restaurant.

Their entrees arrived. The penne with chicken smelled heavenly. Brandon took a large bite. “It’s good, sugar.”

“It is.” Emily pointed her fork at him. “Back to the horn dog stuff.”

“Listen. I’m human. I’m a normal, healthy guy with a sex drive. Have I done things that, in retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have? Hell, yes. There isn’t a man that hasn’t. At the same time, you don’t have to worry.” He patted her kneecap again. “I promise I will not drag you under the table, tear your clothes off, and make love to you in front of Jordan and the sommelier. Then again, it beats the hell out of the dessert menu, doesn’t it?” His smile was unrepentant. He took another bite of his lunch and washed it down with champagne. “You’re not eating.”

Emily was feeling a little warm. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe she was going to blush herself into a coma. The thought of getting naked with Brandon wasn’t exactly repulsive.

“Did you always want to be a football player?”

“Questions, questions. Do you work for ESPN?” he said, but she saw his dimple. “I wanted to be like my dad. He played football, so I played football. It helped that I fell in love with the game, too.”

“What would you have done for a living if you didn’t do this?”

“Interesting question.” He gave her a sly smile. “I might have been a math teacher.”

“You’re kidding me.” He loved math? He wasn’t a geek. Then again, he’d thought that all opera singers were fat. Maybe it was time to retire some of these generalizations.

“No. I was a math major. I have a master’s in math as well from the UW. I worked on it during the off-season for a couple of years.” He chewed for a few moments. “Damn, sugar, this stuff’s good.” Brandon scooped a bite up on his fork, and held it in front of her mouth. “Come on, I’m going to eat all of this if you don’t take a bite.”

“Mmhmm,” was all she could get out around the mouthful of food he fed her.

He inhaled a huge platter of pasta, all the bread, and scooped a bite off of Emily’s plate. “I’m still hungry.” He appeared to be eating her lunch, too. She wondered if he was always this hungry.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Then again, it was kind of cute. “Oh, okay.” She shoved her plate closer to his.

“You have to eat.” He scooped up a forkful of penne and chicken and said, “Open up.”

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