She rolled her eyes and texted him back: Please…
His answering text was quick: I knew I could get you to beg…Molly.
Now she couldn’t help but laugh. Her text was a little more demanding this time: Emily to you, “stalkerboy”. You didn’t get me to beg for anything. I want the information.
Oh, his smile was teetering between lewd and mischievous when she looked in his direction now.
He responded: You begged, doll, and I’m pretty sure…no, I’m positive…I could get you to beg for plenty of things if given the proper chance to do so. Plenty. But, to answer your question, Olivia gave me your number. I would assume my source doesn’t come as a shock…
She sighed: I disagree with the begging part. I call it being courteous. Not sure how to answer your second statement except to say that you’re an arrogant bastard. No, I’m not shocked about Olivia being your partner in crime…the both of you are certifiably nuts…
Between becoming consumed in her text session with Gavin and the now roaring Yankees fans in the background, Emily didn’t notice that Dillon had disappeared. However, she couldn’t help but notice Gavin staring directly at her with only a barstool separating them now. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as he closed that distance by sliding over into the seat next to her. Propping his elbow on the bar, his smile was no less cocky than before.
“So, says the ‘arrogant bastard,’” he began, shifting his body to face her, “are you still going to deny that I made you beg?”
The familiarity of his humor-filled voice sent chills down her back. With a smirk, she let out an exasperated breath. “You’re relentless.”
“Always,” he answered evenly. Taking a long pull from his beer, his gaze never left hers. “I figured it was a good way to break the tension hanging in the air.”
“You have a funny way of breaking tension, Gavin.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Let’s see…trying to get me to admit that I was begging.” She answered, crossing her legs, and then quickly added, “Which I wasn’t.”
“You begged, doll, but I’ll let it go.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “I give up; you win.”
He smiled, and for a minute, he let himself drown in her, getting lost in the memory of her touch. “In all seriousness, I figured my little texting skit might go over well,” he said as his eyes shimmered with something akin to an apology behind them. “I’m hoping it did at least.”
He was right; the tension that had built up inside her had seemed to dissipate. Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded. “It did.”
Slowly, he slid a bottle cap over to her and smiled. “Truce?”
Looking down at the smooth-lacquered bar, she picked up the cap and rolled it in her fingers with a weak smile on her lips. In whatever way she could take it, she needed to be right with him—needed to be right with them. Emily knew fate wasn’t playing fair with either one of their hearts. Fate had broken all the rules in their case, creating a no-holds-barred wicked game that was demolishing both of their inner beings. Tugging at their deepest thoughts with strength unlike any other, it was bringing the strongest of men down to his knees and had her questioning her decisions—but she wasn’t about to let it destroy either of their lives any further.
Drawing in another deep breath, she met his gaze and nodded. “Yes, Gavin…truce.”
As the relief soaked through his veins, Gavin analyzed her face, hoping to burn the vision of her into his memory. It’d felt like forever since he’d seen her. “So how’ve you been?”
“I’ve been doing okay. You?”
“Yeah, I’ve been alright,” he lied smoothly, praying she couldn’t tell. She gave him a weak smile that had him second-guessing his acting abilities. “So Olivia told me that since Dillon’s leaving on business tomorrow, she’s your official date to my mother’s fundraiser this weekend.”
“Yes, she is. Tina’s going away to her grandparents’ home in Texas, so we figured we’d make it a certified ladies’ night together.”
“Very cool,” he smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
Smiling, she let out a cough. “Well, I’m looking forward to it.”
“You don’t sound good,” he said, placing the back of his hand against her forehead. She flinched away slightly but smiled. “You actually feel feverish.”
“You can tell by feeling my forehead, huh?” She brought her hand up to her forehead. She then started rummaging through her purse, looking for Tylenol. “Now your resume consists of business mogul, nanny, and doctor, too.”
Laughing, he shrugged. “The nanny part coincides with the doctor part. I’ve watched Timothy and Theresa a few times while they were sick.” He took a swig of his beer. “You shouldn’t be out, feeling the way you do.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I know I shouldn’t be.” He looked at her questioningly. Popping the medicine into her mouth, she downed some water. “Long story.”
Though he had a pretty good idea who made her come out, Gavin didn’t probe.
Staring at him, curiosity got the better of Emily as she wondered why he was there alone. “So, uh, what happened to that girl you brought with you to the engagement party?”
She wasn’t you… “She moved to the West Coast to be closer to her family,” he replied, the lie tumbling from his mouth effortlessly.
“Oh, I’m sorry about that.”
“Nah, it’s no biggie.”
With that, Trevor and Fallon approached the two of them, both sweat-riddled from their dancing.
“Country,” Fallon breathed out heavily, wiping the back of her neck, “take a walk with me to the restroom. I need to fix my makeup that I’m pretty damn sure is all over the place right about now.”
“Sure,” Emily said, rising from the barstool. She looked at Gavin. “Could you keep an eye on my purse for me?”
He nodded, but Trevor yanked it from the bar and slung it across his body. “I’ll keep an eye on it. Blake might steal some freakish keepsake of you for himself.”
They all laughed, and the two women started heading toward the restrooms.
As Emily weaved her way through the endless amount of fans celebrating the Yankees win, she spotted Dillon playing a game of pool. He was hanging out with a cluster of men and women across the bar. She could tell it was taking all of his efforts to remain standing upright as his body swayed back and forth while lining up a shot. A ripple of laughter washed over the crowd when he sank the eight ball.
“So much for spending time with me,” she mumbled.
Fallon pulled the restroom door open, and they walked in. “I know I don’t know Dillon that well, Country, but I’m assuming he forced you to come out tonight.”
“Well, I could’ve said no,” she replied as she observed her appearance in the mirror.
Ripping a piece of paper towel from the dispenser, Fallon doused it with some water and started wiping her face and arms. The corner of her mouth turned up a smirk. “Right, but you didn’t.”
Emily shrugged. “I felt bad about not coming. I love Trevor.”
Fallon tossed the paper towel into the trash and looked at Emily, her gray eyes twinkling with concern. “And Trevor loves you, but you need to find your voice with your man. Put him in his place when need be.”
Emily studied her for a second, feeling slightly confused. “I think I do put him in his place, Fallon.”
Cocking her head to the side, Fallon approached her and placed her hand on her shoulder. “I’m not trying to start anything with you, Country. I just think you could be a little tougher with him, that’s all.”
A faint smile tugged at Emily’s lips, but she didn’t answer.
Fallon grabbed for her hand and led them out. Upon emerging, a large group had gathered just outside the door, making it difficult for them to maneuver their way through the crowd.