“You look amazing tonight,” Dillon breathed into Emily’s hair as they made their way into a quaint little restaurant nestled on the lapping shores of Liberty State Park. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he leaned closer and nipped at her ear. “And I have to admit that pretty red dress will come off by the end of the evening.”
Giggling at his obvious gesture, Emily pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “And I have no disputes with it coming off.”
She took a quick moment to catalog Dillon’s features, sighing with warmth at his boyish good looks. His dirty-blonde hair was naturally mussed as if she had just run her fingers through it, and his light brown eyes reminded her of a perfect blend of caramel and chocolate.
He had made reservations for the special evening, making sure they had a table overlooking the water. It offered some of the best views of the Statue of Liberty in the distance. The waiter led them onto a lavish patio lined with trees and subtle landscaping. The view of the harbor swept Emily’s breath from her as she took in the sights New York had to offer under the stars. Although it was the first few days in July, the air held a crisp, cooling breeze on this particular night.
After placing their order and enjoying two glasses of red wine, Emily looked to Dillon. His gaze was transfixed on hers as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She felt a blush dance across her cheeks, and she smiled.
“What?” she asked.
Sliding his arm across the linen-draped table, he reached for her hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb along her knuckles. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are,” he remarked, inclining his body ever so subtly over the table.
“Oh, you’re really trying your hardest to get some tonight.”
Chuckling, he held her hand tighter. “Touché. I already know that I’m getting some—willing or unwilling on your part.”
Emily shook her head and laughed. “You’re in a very frisky mood right now.”
He shrugged and casually leaned back in his seat. “Yes, I am. But how could I not be?” he said, gesturing to her slightly exposed cleavage with his head. “Although, I must say, I wish you would wear something that covered you up a little more.”
Emily adjusted the straps of her dress, pulling it up higher on her chest. “Is it that bad?”
“Well, I like to keep what’s mine to myself.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of wine. “Okay, let’s talk about something else before I take you right here on this table. So how was your day?”
Not meeting his eyes, Emily traced the rim of her glass with two fingers. “It was okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel self-conscious now, Dillon,” she replied, glancing around the patio.
“Emily, I didn’t mean it like that.” He reached across the table and lifted her chin with one finger. Her eyes came to rest on his. “I just don’t like when other men stare. You look stunning, but like I said, you’re mine.”
“Okay, I’ll pay more attention to what I wear from now on.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. “But, to be honest, I actually like when other women stare at you.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yes, I do. I know you’re with me, and that’s all that matters.”
“Well, you’re a woman, that’s why. Men have other things in mind when they stare like that.”
Interrupting the conversation, the waiter arrived with another bottle of wine and two plates of Beef Wellington. The rest of the evening’s talk focused on Dillon taking Emily to do some sightseeing around the city. It was something that she had looked forward to since she had yet to do it—at least not with him.
Picking up the empty plates, the waiter looked to Emily and handed her a dessert menu. His thick, French accent slid from his tongue. “The chef recommends the crème brûlée medley, consisting of chocolate, vanilla, and banana.”
“That sounds good to me,” Emily replied, handing the menu back to him.
The faint sound of an infant crying caught Dillon’s attention. He glanced at Emily. “That baby is driving me nuts. Do you really have to get dessert?”
Emily sheepishly smiled, flicking her eyes in the direction of the couple who were trying to soothe the baby. “It’s just a baby, Dillon. And no, I don’t have to get dessert, but I want to.”
Dillon’s head snapped up as he glared at the waiter. “Fine, bring her the medley. But is there a possibility of removing the people with the screaming child?”
Emily’s smile fell.
“I apologize, sir, but I’m not able to do that,” the waiter answered, noticeably uncomfortable by his request.
Dillon’s eyes hardened on the man. “Surely there’s a manager that I could speak with then.”
Stupefied at his remark, Emily interjected immediately. She looked up to the waiter. “Please, there’s no need to do that. You can just place it in a to-go box for me. Thank you.”
“It may make for a mess in a to-go box, Miss. May I recommend our cheesecake if this will not be enjoyed here?”
“Yes, that’s fine. And thank you again.”
The waiter nodded and whisked off to the kitchen.
Emily’s jaw dropped open as she yanked the napkin from her lap, tossing it on the table. “Jesus, Dillon, what the hell was that about?”
He shifted in his chair, trying to drag his attention away from the couple and the now screaming baby. He rubbed his fingers against his temples. “I’m sorry. It was a long day at work.”
“Still, that was completely mortifying,” she huffed, leaning back against the seat.
“I said I’m sorry, Em. I’m just exhausted from working all of these late nights.”
A wave of guilt coursed through her as she reached across the table for his hand. “I know you’ve been working hard lately. But, honestly, what are you going to do when we have children?”
The waiter returned with both the dessert and the bill. Dillon retrieved his credit card and handed it to the man.
A small smile crept over Dillon’s face. “I wouldn’t want you messing up that gorgeous body by having children.”
“Well, I do want children eventually, so I guess you will have to endure a messed-up body on my part one day.”
Rising from his seat, he buttoned his suit jacket and offered his hand to Emily. She stood up with him. “We have time for children, babe,” he whispered against her cheek. He signed his name on the receipt when the waiter returned. “Come on, I have something special for you.”
Emily followed him out to the docks that lined the restaurant, her eyes feasting on the skyscrapers towering over them. The sparkling of lights from the windows, indicating the presence of others so high in the sky, amazed her. A cool breeze swept across her skin as she slipped her heels off, so they wouldn’t get caught between the boards.
Walking hand in hand, Dillon held her heels as he led her to the end of the docks.
He circled his arms around her waist. “Happy anniversary,” he said, handing her a black velvet box. “I love you very much, Em.”
Emily’s heart quickened with anxiety as her body trembled with anticipation. She licked her lips slowly. “Dillon…I…we…” she stammered, unable to finish the rest of her sentence.
Cocking his neck to the side, a low laugh escaped his lips. “You were just talking about having children with me, Em.” He tenderly brushed the hair from her face. “But it’s not what you think it is.”
Letting out an audible breath, Emily stared at him. His familiar brown eyes gazed back as she opened the box, revealing a pair of stunning, one-carat diamond earrings. Emily gasped at their beauty. Dillon took them from the box, removed the earrings she was wearing, and secured them on her lobes.
Looking down to the ground, Emily lightly fingered one of the diamonds.
Dillon brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “They look beautiful on you.” He dipped his head, forcing her to stare into his eyes. “Though, I have to say, you looked like you were about to pass out when I gave you the box.”