Page 53 of Blitzing Emily

She grabbed her handbag off the table. “You still want me. Your little friend does, that’s for sure,” she taunted.

Their eyes met. Her smug expression told him she believed she’d won.Count to ten,he told himself.Don’t do anything you’ll regret later.He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate again. Emily. He’d never wanted to wipe his mouth off after one of her kisses, or scrub till every trace of her was off his skin and out of his life. But he did now.

“You know where to find me,” Anastasia said as she walked away.

Chapter Eleven

AFEW DAYSlater Emily was home again in Seattle after five weeks of performing in Chicago, but Brandon was in Los Angeles filming a commercial for Gatorade. He’d be back tomorrow. She missed him like she would an appendage. She was excited to see him again, but apprehensive. Between his absence and her nerves about continuing a fake engagement that was starting to mean a little too much, she wondered how she would broach the fact the thirty days they agreed on had come and gone while she was out of town.

She heard a knock at her front door, threw on a robe, and hurried downstairs to discover a courier waiting on her front porch.

“Good morning, Miss Hamilton. This is for you.” The guy handed her a small Tiffany’s carrier bag and proffered a clipboard and pen. “Please sign by your name.”

“Certainly. Thank you so much.”

He reclaimed his clipboard, touched his cap, and got back into his vehicle. She shut her front door, reaching into the little bag. She pulled out a sturdy, cream-colored note card, recognizing Brandon’s dark, heavy handwriting.

It read,They match your ring. Happy engagement, sugar. – B

She pulled out another small blue box tied with a white satin ribbon and flipped it open to find diamond stud earrings the size of peas. She hugged the little box to herself. If he kept it up she’d need a security guard.

Her phone chirped. A text had arrived. She grabbed the phone out of her robe pocket. Speak of the devil: It was Brandon.

Let’s have coffee tomorrow morning at the shop across from Marina Park in Kirkland. We need to talk.

There wasn’t an adult on the planet that failed to understand the significance of the phrase, “We need to talk.” After all, most adults have used it at one time or another to rid themselves of a relationship that wasn’t working out.

He wasn’t dumping her, was he? She felt cold shivers race up her spine.

Maybe he wanted to break things off in a public place so she wouldn’t cause a scene. He’d shown no indication that he was getting ready to break up with her before now. Hopefully, the diamond earrings weren’t a really expensive kiss-off gift.

SHORTLY AFTER NINEAMthe next morning Emily walked into the coffee shop and spotted Brandon sitting at a table in the back. He saw her, too, and stood up. As she got closer, she noticed that his curls were still damp from the shower he must have taken after his workout. He wore an LSU t-shirt, Levis, running shoes, and a huge smile.

“Sugar,” he breathed into her ear, and kissed her cheek. “I missed you. I like the new earrings.”

“I missed you, too.” She reached up to touch one earlobe. “I love them. Thank you again. I can’t believe you did this.”

He stroked her cheek with one big hand. “It’s my pleasure.”

Emily took a deep breath. If she was confused before, she was now wondering if she needed some type of Brandon translator. He was acting like everything was fine, so why had he used the phrase “we need to talk”?Relax,she told herself.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked.

“Tea would be great.”

“Coming right up.” He moved around her and went to the counter to order.

She had butterflies in her stomach. The blood bubbled through her veins like the finest champagne. She felt lightheaded, excited, beyond happy. She heard Brandon’s laughter as he spoke to one of the baristas. He returned to his chair just moments later.

“Look what I have,” he said, nodding at the plate he carried. He’d not only brought the tea she asked for, but he’d brought baked goods.

“Chocolate cake and diamonds? A girl could get used to this,” she said.

“I have to keep you sweet.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Here.” He sliced off a bite with his fork and slipped it between her lips. The cake, with the tiniest hint of mint, was delicious. He leaned over the table. “You know I have to kiss you now.”

Listening to him speak was causing a fairly embarrassing reaction, along with the barest brush of his lips on the back of her hand. Her poor nipples could’ve cut glass. She squirmed on the chair, but it had nothing to do with nerves.

“In front of all these people?” she said. Then again, she really didn’t care about them right now. She couldn’t concentrate on anything or anyone but him.

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