Page 97 of The Backup Plan

“Thanks,” I say absently.

But my eyes never leave Emery.

She laughs at something the bartender says, and even from across the room, the sound hits me low and deep. I take a drink I don’t need and force myself to move—circling, drifting, letting the crowd carry me closer to her.

When I finally reach her, I don’t announce myself. Rather, I step in just behind her shoulder and murmur, so only she can hear, “See?”

I love hearing her breath hitch. “See what?” she asks.

“You’re jealous. Does it make you want me more?”

Her head turns slowly, and when her eyes meet mine—wide, startled, undeniably affected—something sharp and satisfying twists in my gut.

She recovers quickly. Of course, she does.

“I told you, jealousy is a wasted emotion.” She flicks her eyes at me and then back out to the people around us.

“And yet you are.” I love that she won’t admit it but that everything about her expression says otherwise.

“You’re delusional,” she says, lifting her glass, but she doesn’t move away.

“Maybe I am.” I let my gaze drop, deliberately, appreciatively. “Because that dress you’re wearing is making me think some pretty crazy thoughts.” Her lips part for just a second. I lower my voice so only she can hear me. “You look incredible, Doc.”

She clears her throat. Our eyes meet for a beat. “Thank you.” And then a slow smile paints her lips. “You look like trouble.”

“Always have been. Why change now?”

She chuckles but the way her eyes roam over my tuxedo say exactly what I’m feeling. I want you.

“Is this your first one of these?” I ask, nodding toward the crowd milling about. “A charity gala for people who pretend they enjoy small talk but really come for the open bar?”

“Yes. Not my scene to be honest, but the people watching is amazing.”

I bark out a laugh. “I’ll give you that one. There are plenty of unique things to see.”

“Unique being the subjective word.”

I nod. “How is your proposal coming along? I overheard Grant talking to you about it when I passed by your office the other day.”

“It’s coming. Not having been part of this program for very long, who knows if the things I’ll suggest to improve the flow and efficiency haven’t already been done, you know? It’s the end cap on my probationary period, so I need it to be incredible.”

“I think everything you touch turns out that way.” I hold my arms out. “Living proof right here.”

She emits the laugh I was trying for and rolls her eyes. “No shortage of confidence there.” She says the words but there’s a softness to her eyes, to her smile, that begs me to reach out and play with that curl that’s falling over her shoulder.

I grip my glass harder instead.

“You’re breaking your rule again?” she asks and lifts her chin toward the glass in my hand.

“I’ve decided that rules aren’t all they’re cracked up to be this time around.”

“Hmm.” She takes a sip of her wine as she stares at me over the rim of her glass. “May I ask what you may have meant about orange slices and Gatorade?”

“What?” I laugh out.

“You said it the other night just before you fell asleep. You said, ‘This is better than orange slices and Gatorade.’”

Did I really say that?