Page 38 of Blitzing Emily

Chapter Eight

AFTERBRANDON INHALEDhis dinner that evening (and Emily picked at hers) they adjourned to Emily’s living room couch. She managed to seize the remote, flipping the television on. Brandon pretended to glare at her. The effect was ruined, however, by a huge grin and the flash of his dimple.

The sports anchorman’s voice boomed over the TV’s speakers.

“Single women everywhere are inconsolable over the news that the Sharks’ Brandon McKenna announced his engagement this morning. The Sharks front office is cautiously optimistic. Will McKenna put up what must be a modern-day version of the ‘little black book’—his legendary smart phone ‘contacts’ list of single females—for auction on eBay as a result?”

“Like I’m that stupid,” Brandon muttered.

Emily gave him a combination eye roll and head shake. The typically unflappable Brandon had been squirming for a few minutes now. “That’s really going to put a crimp in your social life, Brandon.”

He grunted in response.

The announcer continued. “Our cameras caught up with the wily Mr. McKenna outside of his fiancée Emily Hamilton’s home this morning, and he didn’t fail to astonish and amuse.”

Emily watched them walk down the front stairs on her television screen. One of the reporters asked her if she was surprised at his proposal, and Brandon wrapped his arms around her waist as she responded, “Yes, I was.” He gave her an adoring grin. He nuzzled her hair. It looked like he was kissing Emily’s ear, but in reality, she had deliberately stepped on his toes. The next piece of tape was of Brandon standing outside of her Escape while she waited inside. Another reporter asked, “Brandon, we understand that Miss Hamilton is a very talented and sought-after young diva. How do you plan to cope with two demanding careers?”

“You know, Emily’s talented inmanyareas,” he smirked, raised one eyebrow, and gave the camera a look that let all of America know exactly what she was talented at. “Frankly, she wears me out. I’m a lucky man.” He shook his head a bit, gave the reporters a dazzling smile, and said, “Thanks, guys,” as he pulled the driver’s door open and swung into the seat.

Emily let out a gasp of horror. “You—You—What was that?”

Brandon shot her a quick glance. “Take a breath, sugar.”

“Myparentswill see that. You just told the entirecountrythat I’m some kind of—oh, my God. How could you?” She jumped up from the couch, hurried through the living room, and stormed up the staircase. Her headache was temporarily forgotten. Brandon didn’t even have to run to catch up with her.

“Sugar,” he cajoled. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is. I can’t believe you said that. I am not one of your—” She whipped around to face him; he stopped inches from crashing into her. “Floozies. Trollops. Hos.Bimbos.Whatever they’re called, I’m not one of them.” She poked her finger in the middle of his chest to punctuate. Multiple times.

“Now, you don’t need to name call,” he said. “They wanted a colorful quote, and I gave it to them.”

Emily let out a groan, and turned on her heel. Right now, making a lot of noise was the only option. He caught her elbow. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be right now?” she said.

“No. No, I don’t.” He stroked her arm. “You’re not mad about this.” He moved closer. Her body double-crossed her, swaying toward him. His arm slid around her waist. “So, I got a little carried away. It’s not a problem.” He nuzzled the hair at her temple. The temperature in the room shot up twenty degrees in five seconds or so.

She couldn’t understand why she wavered between wanting to commit bodily harm on him and wanting to do things to him that would feel really,reallygood. Right now, though, she needed to pull herself together.

Her head jerked up, narrowly missing his nose. “I realize the rest of the world thinks we’re engaged right now, but did you need to tell everyone I’m some kind ofinsatiablesex maniac? That stuff is private. It should remain between us. All of America does not need to know what goes on in my bedroom!” She poked him in the chest a few more times for emphasis.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Insatiable sex maniac? Now, that’s interesting.” The amusement on his face made her realize he wasn’t backing off. “I’ve never met one of those before. Tell me more.”

Her mouth dropped open in outrage. At that moment, the phone started to ring. She turned on her heel and stomped away from him only to hear Brandon’s laughter again.

EMILY GRABBED THEringing phone in her room, hitting “speaker” as she sat down on the bed. It was David calling to outline the booking offers he’d fielded that day.

“Your calendar’s getting a workout, Emily. So, I’ll confirm all three of the productions we talked about, and send the information to your phone’s calendar as well.”

“Thanks, David. I’m really glad things are picking up.”

“I am, too. I just got an email from Seattle Opera’s PR group as well. They’d like to do an interview and some pictures with you and Brandon at your earliest convenience. It’ll run in the magazine and on their website. If he’d like, we can schedule a date and time with his agent.”

She saw Brandon stroll into the room out of the corner of her eye.

“That’ll work for me, David. I’ll let Josh know to expect your call,” Brandon responded, speaking loudly enough for David to hear him over the speaker phone.

“Great. By the way, Brandon, I saw the ESPN interview. You’re making my job easy.”

“Glad to hear it,” Brandon said. “Thanks for taking such good care of my girl.”

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