My attention drifts to the dance floor, snagging on the source of my lack of restraint.
Emmett is wearing this sweet, almost wistful expression as he looks down at his daughter. It’s a tender moment, the two of them dancing together, and I’m unable to tear my eyes away from him. It’s been my issue all night. We’ve successfully avoided each other for hours, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t looked.
Miller says something to him that causes Emmett’s head to fall back in laughter and I can’t help but smile at his contagious joy. He looks good when he’s happy. He looks good, period.
“Arthur!” Scott calls out, drawing my attention away from the dance floor as he and the rest of the advisory board circle around my grandfather. “It is so good to see you. You’re looking great.”
My grandfather beams at the five men. “Thank you all so much for coming. It means so much to me.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Phil says.
“How have you all been? How’s it going with my Reese? Giving her some good advice, I hope.”
“Great advice.” Scott puts his hand on my grandfather’s shoulder in a chummy but slimy way. “Just waiting for her to take it.”
My attention drifts to Ed, and he meets my eye, telling me he’s thinking the same damn thing as me.
My grandfather looks around the group of men suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“He’s kidding.” Phil laughs. “We’re glad to be working with her. She’s really... doing her own thing. Making this teamhers.”
Again, Ed and I share a look, silently calling out that bullshit.
“As she should.” My grandfather beams with pride because he doesn’t pick up on the nuance of their statements. He has no idea that four of the five members of his previous advisory board are furious with the direction I’m taking my team and think I should step down as Acting President of Baseball Operations.
I’m also not going to go run to him and tattle. I can handle myself just fine.
Ed gives me a squeeze on the arm as I excuse myself.
For the first time tonight, I’m alone without the safety net of company. I instantly feel the heat of Emmett’s attention, the same way I have most of the night. Glancing back in the direction of the dance floor, I find him and Miller walking off as the song ends.
But as I assumed, he’s watching me.
He looks stunning tonight. Fitted black suit, white shirt unbuttoned near his throat, and a perfectly trimmed beard leading to a bit of salt around his temples. It’s not often I getto see him without his baseball hat, but it’s a lovely change to witness his face without the shadow of a brim covering it.
Then you add those black lines webbing over his hands, falling out past the cuffs of his suit and starkly contrasting the rest of his look tonight, and I’m just kind of done for.
His lips are a bit too full but perfect all the same, especially when they fight the smile he shouldn’t be sending me from across the room.
Emmett joins a group of his players, and I turn my attention back to the bar.
Grab a drink. Reattach myself to my grandfather. Those are the only two things I’m allowed to do.
“A glass of red, please,” I request from the bartender, and as he’s pouring it, my phone dings in my clutch.
Emmett’s name is on my screen with a message below it, but when I look for him over my shoulder, he’s mid-conversation with the guys on the team, standing around a cocktail table. No phone in sight.
Emmett:If I had it my way, you plus that dress would be the second-best thing I’d see today.
Honestly, screw the giddy, ridiculous smile on my lips. Something is truly wrong with me lately.
Me:What would be the first?
I press send and watch over my shoulder as he pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it under the table to read and reply while keeping it hidden from everyone else.
Emmett:You minus that dress.
This forty-something-year-old man has more game than anyone I’ve dated in the past. Confident and unapologetic all at the same time. And it just really does something to me. The way he’s both hard and soft. Grumpy yet a huge fucking flirt.
