Page 9 of Blade

“Last I saw, they were heading over to Hanna’s. That can’t be bad,” he says.

“How is it that your wife gets to go out with Emmy before I do?”

“Vi is a force of nature. I’ve learned how to survive the storm and enjoy the sun when it shines,” he tells me with a chuckle. Then he turns serious. “You know she’d never do anything intentional to screw you over, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” I blow out a breath.

“Emryn is sweet. Vi called me an hour ago to tell me they’ve already adopted her into the Lady Pride. Prepare, brother, the tribe is going to rally, and Emryn is going to find herself surrounded by new friends.”

Tribe, that’s priceless. Orion’s right. The Lady Pride are as united as the Satan Pride brothers. They live, love, laugh, and get into trouble together. Ava, Guard’s wife, is their queen. Most think it’s because of Guard’s status in the club, being the president, but it’s more than that. Before my time with the club, there was an incident with a rival club, and Ava put herself out there to take care of Guard and the others. She’s earned the title. Ava’s not like Vi when it comes to being bold. Her strength is quieter, but no less effective.

“Aren’t they all jumping the gun? We haven’t even had a date yet, which I’m going to be late for if we keep talking,” I remind him.

“Who the fuck are you kidding?” He leans his ass on his bike, his arms folded. “I got eyes. You’re into her.”

“I’ve been into other women.”

“Not like this one.”

“Whatever.” I brush him off, but I can’t deny that I feel different about Emryn. Still, it’s ridiculous to make it more than it is, at least for now. “Later, man.”

I hop into Emryn’s car and drive it over to her house, parking in her driveway. Emryn doesn’t let me knock twice; the door swings wide open, giving me a fantastic view of Emryn in a sexy gray number that I take in from head to toe. Everything from her flowing brunette tresses falling around her shoulders, to the ankle boots that give her the chic-girl-meets-cool-chick look has my dick going hard instantly. I want to undo the buttons on her dress from top to bottom, stopping to kiss every inch I uncover.

“Hi,” Emryn says, pulling me out of my trance.

“Hey, baby,” I murmur. My gaze is fixed on her glossy pink lips.

“Do you want to come in for a minute?” she asks innocently. Fuck yes! I want to come in and never leave. “I don’t have my furniture yet, but I have a couple of stools at the counter,” she adds.

I pull myself together. “I made reservations at a restaurant not far from here. And besides, if I come inside, I’m going to kiss you senseless, then you’re going to have to redo your hair, and we’ll be late.”

Her eyes grow wide, then her lips form a perfect “O.” She scurries to her kitchen counter and grabs her small purse and her black leather jacket. With the jacket, she’s totally the epitome of an elegant rocker chick. Christ have mercy! How the hell am I going to be able to keep my hands off her all night?

I lead her to her car and wait while she slides into the passenger seat. “Um, it’s my car,” she says as I get in beside her.

“Yeah, Emmy, I know.”

“Shouldn’t I be driving?”

“When we’re out together, babe, I drive,” I answer as the motor roars to life.

“Pardon?” She raises her brows. “Isn’t that a little sexist?” Her face scrunches up like an annoyed kitten.

“I’m not implying you don’t know how to drive. I’m just that kind of man. When I’m with you, I want to drive. I also want to open your car door. Call it old-fashioned, but that’s who I am. Do you have a problem with that?” I ask. Emmy might as well know what kind of man I am. It’s not about controlling her. I want Emryn to pursue her dreams, run her business, and do whatever makes her happy. It’s just that I like her relaxed and sitting next to me. When I’m with her, I have the urge to protect her.

Her face softens immediately, and in a quiet tone, she replies, “Nope.”

“Good.” I touch her cheek, and instinctively, she leans into my hand. Damn, she’s sweet. I tear my hand away, and we head off to dinner. We chat about her first couple of weeks in a new home and all the places she’s explored in town. Surprisingly enough, Emryn’s spent more time walking the trails along the outskirts, taking in the beauty of nature, than she has in town. She goes on and on about the fall colors and how they come alive when she takes photos.

Her entire face lights up when she talks about photography. She chatters on about lenses, specific cameras for different types of shots, lighting, and so on. Normally, this would bore me to tears, but the sheer exuberance she shows draws me in.

The conversation continues to flow easily through dinner, and it’s nice to see a woman who enjoys her food instead of another lettuce nibbler. We end up sharing our meals. I went for the ravioli, and Emryn decided on the veal parmigiana with a medley of seasonal vegetables. I feed her some of my pasta, and she closes her eyes and moans when she wraps her lips around the fork. Jesus, she’s killing me!

“It’s really good,” she says, licking her lips. “Try mine.” She holds out her fork. Our eyes meet when I take the bite. That’s when I see that Emmy is just as affected as I am.

We walk hand in hand out of the restaurant, back to her vehicle. “I almost forgot to ask how much I owe you for the new tire,” she says.

“Consider it a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift,” I tell her.

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