Page 40 of Breaking Emily's Rules
She lifted a shoulder. “It’s all right. You can kiss me like that again.”
“Yeah?” He wanted to, right here and now.
And so much more. Something about her made him forget for a minute that he was a stranger in this town. She reminded him of his former overwhelming need not to hesitate. To plunge headfirst into dangerous territory. She, most unfortunately for him, seemed to serve as a reminder of who he was at the core. Not his father’s son, but his own man.
But for right here, right now, he had to remember that first and foremost he was his father’s son for all practical purposes. Mr. Good Guy, in the flesh. And Mr. Good Guy didn’t seduce women like Emily.
“I mean, but only if you want to.” She stared at his lips and set his groin on fire.
Mr. Good Guy was about to go on hiatus.
He didn’t need another invitation as he drew her into his arms. She sighed as she leaned into his kiss and threaded her fingers through his hair, sucking the marrow right out of him. After several minutes, he pulled away because if he didn’t stop now, they’d both be in trouble.
“I think we’ve established we both like to kiss each other.” He sat behind his desk where she, and the rest of his staff, would be spared from witnessing the bulge in his pants.
Her lips looked bruised, her cheeks a flushed pink color that made him want her even more. “But this is probably not a good idea, right?”
He thought about the fact he had no real plans to stay in this town after he’d taken care of his father’s affairs. He didn’t do permanent or white picket fences, and Emily wouldn’t want a fling.
No, this wasn’t a good idea, but the hell with it. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I was beginning to think you forgot about our deal.”
“Not a chance.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises. We never established parameters for our one date, you know.”
“Parameters?”
“Guidelines.”
“You want guidelines?”
“Sure. Is this a coffeehouse date or a dinner date? Is it denim or silk? Should I—” At this, for some reason, she blushed. “I mean, throw me a bone. Where are we going and what will we be doing?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would.”
“I’ve got nothing. You’ll have to wait and see. I’ll pick you up around five.”
“You don’t know where I live.”
“Your address is on all the forms you filled out. Remember?”
“Okay. But it’s complicated. You need to go up the road and when you see the red barn, turn right. You’ll see a large Victorian house. That’s not where I live. I have the loft which is a few yards away above the garage.”
“I’ve flown an F-16. I think I can find you.”
She nodded a little uncertainly but then smiled, turned and walked right into his dad’s metal filing cabinet.
He stood. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She rubbed her right shoulder, which seemed to have gotten the worst of it. She opened the door to his office and turned back to him. “Wait—what should I wear?”
