The server returned with a second bottle of white wine, which he uncorked.
“I think there’s been a mix up,” Emerson said. “We didn’t order more wine.”
“Looks too expensive for our wallets,” Claire-Marie blurted.
“Compliments of the owner,” said the server. “It’s from his private collection.” He set down three fresh wine glasses and poured the wine.
Danielle tried it. “Oh, wow. This is soooooo good.”
The server smiled. “I thought you’d like it.”
Naturally suspicious, Emerson glanced around. “I don’t know the owner. Who can we thank?”
“He said he’d pop over at some point and say hello.” The server cleared away the dirty wine glasses before leaving.
Emerson glanced around the packed restaurant, but saw no one looking in their direction.
“Stop worrying,” Danielle said. “It’s all good.”
“What’s your story?” Claire-Marie asked Emerson. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“She works all the time,” Danielle interrupted. “I can’t believe you came out with us tonight.”
“I had a stressful day and needed to unwind,” Emerson said, then flicked her gaze toward someone approaching their booth.
Oh, my God, it’s him.Her heart flipped and a zing of energy skittered through her. She could not escape him. Yet, she couldn’t deny being elated to see him. Stryker had changed into a black dress shirt and black pants, his long hair pulled into a man-bun. She snuck a peek at his chest and spied a smattering of chest hair.So yummy.
He slid his gaze from woman to woman, but when his attention settled on Emerson, there was no denying the fire in his eyes.He hates me so much.
“Ladies.”
“Hello, handsome.” Claire-Marie patted the empty cushion beside her. “Join us.”
Danielle groaned. “Hey, boss, what brings you by?”
“Easton had a stressful day and I wanted to help her relax,” he replied.
Claire-Marie gaped. “You sent over the wine?”
“I did,” he replied.
“Stop drinking it,” Emerson mumbled. “It might be poisoned.”
Danielle laughed.
“I’m not trying to kill you, Detective.”
Emerson could not stop staring at his sexy mouth and those piercing eyes.Too. Damn. Handsome.
“So, you’re the owner?” Emerson asked.
“One of five,” he replied. “We own several restaurants in the area.” He tossed a nod toward the back of the room and all three women craned to see. A long table was located in a private dining room enclosed by three glass walls and a glass door. Four men sat at one end of the table.
Claire-Marie had been smiling nonstop. “Food is great.”
“So, how do you two know each other?” Stryker asked Emerson and Danielle.
“We don’t,” Emerson replied.
