Break Away (The Baltimore Banners Book 5) (13 page)

She should say no. Despite the amusing byplay, despite the slight lessening of the tension, she should still say no. To say yes was taking a risk, opening herself up to this man again, more than she wanted.

But a small voice inside her was screaming at her, telling her to say yes. It was only dinner, nothing else. And if she didn't say yes, how would she know, one way or the other? It was only dinner.

She took a deep breath and slowly nodded. "Okay. Dinner."

The smile grew on JP's face, bigger and brighter, lighting his eyes and chasing away shadows she hadn't even realized were there. He tightened his hand around hers then leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers. The kiss was warm, sweet. Lingering but gone too soon. JP smiled again then turned in his seat, his hand still folded around hers.

And Emily sat there, stunned. Had she really said yes? She had. And she was glad she did. The feeling that she had made the right decision stayed with her throughout the day, as they sat there watching each of Taylor's games, holding hands throughout each one.

Rumbling twisted his gut, the pain dull and consistent. It had nothing to do with hunger. Just like his sweaty palms had nothing to do with illness.

At least, not a normal hunger or illness.

JP fisted his hand and pushed it against his stomach, willing the nervousness to disappear. There was no need for him to be nervous. The emotion was ridiculous, completely uncalled for.

Completely alien. He didn't get nervous, not before a date.

He never had dates. At least, not real ones. Not dates where he went to the woman's house and picked her up, took her to dinner. And tried not to think of what would come later.

He winced at the poor choice of words and quickly banished the thought. That wasn't the way he wanted tonight to start, with him already thinking of how he wanted the night to end.

Neither would happen if he didn't force his feet to move, to walk to the front door.

JP glanced down at himself, suddenly self-conscious. Was the suit too much? Would Emily think he was trying too hard? Had she ever really seen him dressed up before, like this?

Doubt crept over him and he pushed it away. The past didn't matter, not tonight. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself. And he knew he looked good. Hell, the way he was dressed tonight, he could give that New York goalie a run for his money.

Enough procrastinating.

JP rolled his neck and took a deep breath, then marched up the walkway with a confidence he didn't quite feel. He rang the bell and waited, trying to ignore the inner voice that kept whispering doubt.

What if Emily changed her mind? What if she decided to cancel at the last minute? What if she forgot?

"
Parfait imbécile
." The muttered curse left his mouth as soon as the door opened and he worried that Emily may have heard him. Then he looked up and all of his worries fled, along with his ability to speak.

Beautiful. Stunning. No, even those words failed to do justice to the woman standing in front of him.

Her hair was swept to the side and fell past her shoulders in soft waves that caught the light. Spun gold, JP thought, wondering if she would think it strange if he reached out and let the strands fall through his fingers. He forced his eyes from her hair, his gaze traveling slowly over her.

The black dress she wore clung to her curves, the sleeves nothing more than thick scraps of material that bared her creamy shoulders. The material looped downward, forming a twisted knot at the center of her chest, exposing a hint of cleavage that made his mouth go dry. JP blinked, his gaze following the soft folds of material past her waist. The hem whirled around her legs, falling just above her knees.

Her legs were bare, all smooth creamy skin that he longed to touch, to feel. He swallowed when his gaze dropped to her shoes, delicate creations of black leather set on heels at least four inches high.

JP reversed his gaze, slowly, drinking in each detail until he finally met her eyes. Shadows lingered in their deep blue depths as she watched him and he realized she was unsure, waiting for him to say something.

"
C'est magnifique
." He cleared his throat and tried to smile. "You're beautiful,
mon rêve
."

A hesitant smile lifted one corner of her full mouth. The shadows fled from her eyes and she stepped back, silently inviting him inside. He started to move past her then remembered the gift in his hand. Feeling like an idiot, he thrust the flowers out to her, the move so fast that she stumbled back and caught herself by grabbing onto the edge of the door.

"
Merde
." He grabbed her elbow with his freehand, supporting her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"No. It was me." Emily straightened and gave him a small smile. "The shoes. I'm not...the heels are a little high."

JP didn't know how to respond, except for asking why she was wearing them if they were too high. But then she was taking the flowers from him, leaning down to breathe in their scent, and he forgot to say anything.

She moved through the living room, the hem of her dress swirling around her, the material playing peekaboo with the smooth flesh of her legs. Should he follow her, or stay where he was? He wasn't sure, didn't want to look too eager or too pushy.

And then it didn't matter, because she was walking toward him, a small smile teasing her mouth. Teasing him. She grabbed what looked like a ball of black material and shook it, then tossed it around her in a gently fluid movement. The material seemed to float in the air around her for a second before settling over her shoulders. "Are you ready?"

"Hm? Oh. Yes." He opened the door and gestured for her to go in front of him, then pulled the door closed and caught up to her on the walkway. Without thinking, he caught her hand in his then brought it to his arm, resting it in the crook of his elbow. The touch heated his flesh through the barriers of shirt and jacket, making him pause. If Emily noticed, she didn't say anything.

Until they reached his car.

She hesitated, her eyes widening in surprise as he opened the door for her. "I think I'm afraid to get in this."

He looked at her, then at the Bugatti Veyron, then back at her. "Why?"

"Because. I mean, this is a..." Emily looked back at the car, her voice trailing off. A small frown creased her face and she tried to take a step back. "What if I spill something?"

JP had no idea what she was talking about, especially since she didn't have anything in her hands to spill. But he didn't bother telling her that, just shrugged and held the door open. "So? Wouldn't be the first time."

Emily gave him a weird look, one he couldn't quite interpret, then slowly lowered herself into the leather seat. The hem of her dress pulled higher around her thighs, treating him to a large expanse of creamy skin. He groaned when she tugged the material down and tucked it around her legs. She looked up at him, giving him another small smile before he closed the door and rushed around to the driver's side.

He started the engine and backed out of the parking space as Emily looked around her in curiosity. Heat coiled inside him when she stroked the leather of the seat, when her fingers gently, almost reverently, traced a path along the dash.

Fuck. Was he suddenly jealous of his car?

He shook his head and eased the car out of the neighborhood, heading toward the highway that would take them downtown, and searched his mind for something to say. "I, uh, didn't see Taylor."

"Hm?" Emily stopped studying the interior of the car long enough to look over at him. "Monica took her to practice."

"Oh. I didn't think—"

"I thought you had an SUV."

"A Range Rover, yes." JP glanced at her, wondering at the odd turn in conversation. But she was hardly paying him any attention because she was looking around the car again, her eyes sparkling as her hand stroked the dash, the center console. Her fingers slid down, coming close to his leg, and his breath left him in a hiss.

There it was again, the brief spurt of insane jealousy. Why was Emily stroking his car? If she wanted to stroke something—

"So why are you driving this?"

"What?" He glanced over at her, then back at the road. "Because I like this car."

"You mean you drive this all the time?"

"Not all the time, no. But a lot."

"Seriously? I mean, you actually drive this? On the road?"

JP's glance drifted once more to her hand, watching as she dragged the tips of her fingers back and forth along the console. Tension coiled inside him as his blood rushed south, straight to his cock. He reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it firmly in his, and tried to shift in the seat to find a more comfortable position.

"Emily." Her name came out in a low growl, swallowed by the roar of the engine. Her fingers twitched in his hand but he refused to look over, wasn't sure what he would do if he saw her deep blue eyes focused on him. "There's a raceway not far from here. Sometimes I go there just to open her up. Maybe we can go on Sunday, and you can drive her."

"What?" Emily yanked her hand from his and turned in her seat, a horrified expression on her face. "Are you crazy? No. No way. I'd be afraid to."

"Why?"

"Why? Because. I mean, what if I wrecked? No way. I'd never be able to pay for it, not in a million years."

JP laughed, oddly amused by her sudden horror because it was so genuine. He thought about telling her that she could pay him back a dollar a year to pay for it if she wrecked, then decided against it. He would have meant it as a joke, but he worried that she wouldn't. Or worse, that she'd somehow think him bragging.

So he said nothing, just chuckled. From the look on her face, that may not have been the best thing to do, either. But she finally relaxed in her seat, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth. At least she stopped stroking the interior of the car.

The ride downtown ended too quickly. JP pulled the car in front of a well-known steakhouse, not bothering to wait for the valet to open his door. But he still wasn't fast enough to get Emily's door and had to refrain from hitting the valet when the young man's face lit in appreciation as Emily climbed out of the car.

She didn't seem to notice, giving the man nothing more than a distracted smile as she tried to rearrange the wrap around her shoulders. JP hurried to her side, his hands settling on the heavy velvet of the wrap. He smoothed it out then placed it around her, his hands resting on her shoulders for several seconds. Emily glanced over her shoulder, her eyes darkening as they met his. He hesitated, then leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. He heard the swift intake of her breath as she swayed toward him, her body resting against his for a mere second before she straightened.

He escorted her into the restaurant, where they were quickly shown to a private table in the back, away from the curious looks of the other patrons. The restaurant was always crowded, even during the week, and tonight was no exception. JP was glad he had called ahead with his request. He wanted tonight to be just for them and he wasn't in the mood to deal with curious looks or autograph seekers.

But Emily was glancing around, her own gaze curious, and doubt suddenly filled JP. What if Emily didn't like this place? Maybe she wouldn't be able to find anything she liked on the menu. He should have asked her first, should have planned—

"This is nice. I've always wanted to come here."

JP blew out a breath, the uncharacteristic worry leaving him as quickly as it had appeared. Emily wanted to be here. Good. That was good.

What wasn't good was how fast the dinner went. He had been looking forward to this night all week, able to think of little else. And now it was almost over. Emily sat across from him, her hair falling in gentle waves around her face, a smile tilting the corners of her mouth and lighting her eyes. A half-finished dessert sat on a delicate china plate in front of her, next to an empty cup of coffee.

The waiter reappeared, silently offering to refill her cup, but she waved him away. Disappointment filled JP when Emily smothered a small yawn and glanced at her watch. He knew it was late, knew she had to work tomorrow.

Hell, so did he. Morning skate and practice, then the game. But he didn't want the night to end and he had no idea what to do next. Maybe he could suggest they go for a drink. He could take her to The Maypole and...no, that was a bad idea. Several of his teammates were there. Not to mention there would be too many women. He didn't want to risk any awkward chance encounters.

There had to be something.
Merde
. Why was his mind blank? He never had this problem in the past.

Possibilities swirled through his mind and he rejected each as too eager, too obvious. Something nudged his foot under the table, hard. JP looked up, surprised to see Emily watching him with a soft smile on her face. The smile grew brighter and he realized she had been talking.

And he hadn't heard a word she said.

"You look distracted."

He shrugged, tried to grin but the attempt fell flat. "I'm sorry,
ma douce
. You were saying something?"

Emily laughed, the soft sound wrapping around him, heating his blood. Her eyes met his for a long second before she lowered her gaze to the table, a small blush coloring her cheeks.

"It was nothing. Silly. Don't worry about it."

"No, not silly." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, traced her knuckles with his thumb. "Tell me."

She turned her hand in his and laced their fingers together, then looked up with a shyness that made his breath catch in his lungs. "I was just wondering..."

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering if we could go home now."

Disappointment rushed through him, sharp and heavy. He forced a smile to his face and squeezed her hand. "Of course. It's late, you need to work tomorrow. Let me get our check—"

"No, Jean-Pierre. You misunderstood." She took a deep breath and gave him another shy smile. "I was wondering if we could home now. Home. To your place."