You, you’re my poison.She rose. “I told the captain I’d host you.”
“I’m going right over there.” He pointed to a bar twenty feet away. “And I’ll be back before you can miss me.”
“Miss you? That’ssonot happening.”
He arched a brow. “What can I get you?”
“Sparkling water, please.”
“Not repeating last night?”
“God, no. Plus, I don’t drink at work events.”
“Good call.”
She glared at him. He leaned close, wrapped his hand around her arm, and whispered, “You look stunning, Emerson.”
Her breath hitched.He called me by my first name.
His killer smile was the key that ignited her engine. And all she could do was smile back, like an idiot.
When he got in the drink line, a handful of women flocked over like vultures descending on their next meal. They flirted and giggled. Each one touched his shoulder or caressed his arm. One was so bold as to tug on his hair. She understood why they were flirting with him, but she didn’t much like watching it. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from eyeing the spectacle.
Stryker Truman was a gorgeous man with a number of successful businesses. He was also thirty-five years old and unattached. Who wouldn’t want to snag a guy like that?Me. I wouldn’t.But I wouldn’t mind letting loose on him for a few hours.
He pointed to Emerson, and the woman who would not stop touching him, glowered at her. Emerson pinned on a subtle smile, meant only for Stryker. The woman moved on, but Stryker kept his attention laser-focused on Emerson. Instead of shrinking under his intense stare, it fueled her. She loved how his gaze never left hers, how he didn’t check out the beautiful women parading by for his attention.
Her attention was diverted when the captain and her husband, along with another couple, sat down at their table. After more introductions, Heather pivoted toward Emerson. “I texted you a few times for a virtual appointment, but didn’t hear back,” she whispered. “Are you doing okay?”
“I was in a work situation where I had to face my claustrophobia,” Emerson murmured.
“How’d you do?”
“I was a wreck, but my partner helped me through it.”
“That’s wonderful. A good partner, in anything, can make all the difference.”
“Unfortunately, I have to do it again,” Emerson said.
“You know you can do it, since you’ve already succeeded once.”
Emerson nodded. “Doesn’t stop the stomach ache and heart palps.”
“Try counting the number of seconds separating you from the exit. That might help ground you. Deep breaths help, too.”
“Thank you.” Emerson paused. “I’ve struck up a friendship with someone in your survivor chat group.”
“Wonderful. Who is it?”
“Justice.”
“I see,” Heather replied.
“I’m thinking I might want to meet him sometime. Nothing big. Coffee, maybe.”
Stryker set down their sparkling waters. “Are you two talking about me?”
Emerson steeled her spine. “Why does everything have to revolve around you?”
