Chapter 8
“What a dive,” said Chris as he and Emily entered the Bamboo Gigolo. “I love it.”
Emily smiled and said nothing as her brother steered her through the crowd, but she agreed. She’d expected a place called the Bamboo Gigolo to have a tropical theme or maybe even some of those drinks with the umbrellas in them. As far as she could see, everyone was drinking beer and there wasn’t a fake palm tree in sight. Instead, the club boasted some framed sports jerseys on the walls, a couple of tacky Elvis Presley busts, and well-worn wooden floors. In a place like this, she felt much more comfortable than in the highbrow restaurants Trent used to frequent.
She still worried about seeing Michael in a setting outside their renovation work. Ever since he told her he wanted to be with her, she’d been on edge, worried about being left alone with him. When he wasn’t in her line of sight, she could continue on the straight and narrow, but when they were alone, it was hard not to surrender to temptation. All week long, she’d been sneaking peeks at him. At the curve of his biceps. At the way his hair curled at the back of his neck. At the sheer perfection of his backside when he walked past. She’d never known a man with such a round ass. It deserved a painting, a sculpture,something. Even top athletes would covet Michael’s ass. David Beckham, with his buns of steel, would get on his knees and pray for God to give him a sweet patootie like Michael Zorn’s.
His physical charms aside, she couldn’t stop thinking about him in general. She and Michael sizzled in ways that were new and exciting to her. She spent her evenings away from him, wondering what he was doing. She woke up in the morning eager to see him. Even Trent had seen Michael’s interest in her from the start. Emily couldn’t deny it any longer.
They wanted each other. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time, but it remained true. She wasn’t looking for another relationship after barely discarding the last one. Her heart was nowhere close to healing and her mind was everywhere except where it should be.
It would feel so good to have him touch her, really touch her. Her idiot brain seemed to have commandeered her senses. All she smelled was Michael’s clean scent. All she saw was the crinkle in his eyes when he smiled. His deep voice had taken a home in her ears, as if playing on a loop. Their first kiss had left her reeling and she’d spent several sleepless nights musing over what the next kiss would be like. Would it be rough and demanding or soft and persuasive? Either way, it would happen. She knew it. It was simply a matter of where and when.
Sticky at the back of her neck, Emily ran a hand over the area.
It was a good thing the Bamboo Gigolo would supply her with drinks. She had a feeling she was going to need a couple of cold beers.
“Are those Michael’s brothers?” Chris pointed toward a small stage.
Emily craned her neck so she could see over a couple of tall guys in front. Sure enough, Nick and Eli fiddled with their respective instruments. Nick sat at a drum kit and Eli stood at the front of the stage, adjusting the knobs on his guitar. Or was it a bass? She could never tell.
Michael, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.
Eli looked up, spotted her, and waved them over. “Hey, Emily. Glad you could make it.” He eyed Chris. “This has got to be your brother. You guys could be twins.”
She introduced them all once Nick walked over.
After shaking hands with her brother, Nick pulled Emily aside. “Thank God you’re here.”
“Wow, Nick. Thanks. I didn’t know you were anticipating my arrival so much.”
“It’s Michael. He’s been an ogre since he got here. Maybe you’ll cheer him up. He always seems to perk up when you’re around.”
Something fluttered in the vicinity of her heart. “Where is he?”
He thumbed toward a hallway in back. “Bathroom.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing that a good shake wouldn’t cure,” said Nick. “My brother’s stressed but won’t admit it.”
“Is it the work on the house? The days have been long.”
“No. So far the renovations have been textbook. Besides, we’ve dealt with much worse. His stresses, well, let’s just say they’re different. It didn’t help that Lacey set him off.”
She asked the question that had been plaguing her since day one of the shoot. “What’s up with Michael and Lacey anyway? I always catch her staring at him and whenever he looks back, I can hear his teeth grating.”
“Michael and Lacey have history, but you didn’t hear it from me.”
“I see.” It was disappointing to hear it confirmed.
What was she thinking? Of course Michael and Lacey would have had a fling. He was a gorgeous, capable man and she made the hottest Brazilian supermodel look like a homely boy. Lacey might not have much to recommend her in the personality department, but she couldn’t blame Michael for succumbing to her physical charms. Most men would.
Nick glanced in the direction of the washrooms. “Anyway, it’s not my place to talk about his issues. At least not while he’s in earshot. He’s coming now. See you after the first set.”
“Yeah, okay.” Even as she murmured those words to Nick, she turned toward Michael. When she saw him, the image of Lacey humping her secret crush flew out the window.
In many ways, he was as handsome as ever, dressed in well-fitting jeans and a black t-shirt, but something was clearly wrong. He had never been so pale. Perhaps it was just the bar lighting, causing his skin to appear white against his dark hair. If his mouth hadn’t been tugging downward at the corners, Emily might have believed her own logic. His shoulders sagged too. For a man who carried himself with pride, the change was stark. He appeared half his size. She wasn’t sure, but there might even be a faint sheen of perspiration on his brow. It was a warm night, but the bar had air conditioning. No one else was sweating.
