Page 58 of The One Timer

“Gran declined. Let’s pretend we’re alone and time is suspended and nothing else matters but this dance here and now. Enjoy the moment with me, Em.” I feel her relax as I envelop her in my arms, holding her, not too tight, but with unmistakable possessiveness.

I feel everyone’s eyes on us like we’re newlyweds having our first dance and I don’t actually give a fuck even knowing I should. Finally, others join us on the dance floor.

“You didn’t answer my question. Not really.” This time her quiet voice holds a teasing note and I grin down at her big golden eyes, seeing right down to the golden treasure of her heart and soul. Then I shake my head. Maybe the answer is I don’t know what I’m doing. Or part of me has no clue. But there are other parts of me, including my dick, that are locked in.

“I’m dancing with the belle of the ball, the most beautiful woman here, inside and out.” I lower my head so we’re cheek-to-cheek, drinking up the intimacy until I feel drunk. “Especially on the inside. You’re one of a kind, Em.” I feel her blush and my mouth curves automatically.

My intoxicated dick sways and swells. Jesus, I’m going to need a cold shower sooner than later. In the meantime, I loosen my hold and give her—and my dick—some breathing room. No way am I going to force things with her no matter how strongly I feel the connection.

“You’re a charmer, I’ll give you that.”

“That’s all you. I’m being honest.”

She looks up at me, her lips bright pink and plump, tempting me. “You’re flirting.” Her smile and the crinkles at the corners of her eyes tell me she doesn’t mind. At least not too much.

“We’re way past flirting, aren’t we? After that night we had together⁠—”

“You’re right. And you’re wrong.” The music ends and she steps back. “Or maybe I’m terribly confused.”

“Don’t worry, Cinderella, we’ll clear things up between us. You’ll figure out that all the complications come from overthinking when all you need to do is trust yourself, allow yourself to enjoy the moment.”

“Trust myself? To not fall for the charming prince? Tall order.”

I laugh. “I’m the one with the tall order. I have Cinderella just within reach, and yet she’s reluctant. You should feel sorry for me.”

Now she laughs and the sound, the sparkle, the bright shine of her all conspires to grip me with a need and longing so strong I find myself touching her chestnut tresses. I curl a lock of her hair around my finger.

Her face goes serious and her eyes wander to my mouth.

I whisper, leaning in, “Don’t look at me like that unless you want me to kiss you, Emery.” I feel the vibration of my words as my heart pumps hard in my chest.

“I can’t help wanting to kiss you, even against my better judgment.”

I want to tell her fuck it, my default philosophy when faced with an obstacle, but I don’t because she deserves my best. “Give into what you want tonight, just this night, Cinderella,” I rasp and put an arm around her.

“Where have I heard that before?”

“You giving me sass? Because if you are, it’s hot.” Too hot to stay here. Without resistance, she lets me lead her off the dance floor. There are still a crowd people here watching, including Gran. But I have every intention of finding a secluded corner where we can have that kiss.

Until we need more. Then I’ll invite her to spend the night with me.

She walks with me through the crowd, without hesitation and with a hell of a lot more confidence than I’ve seen all night. But when Gran waves in our direction from her table, Em stops in her tracks.

“Your grandmother is calling us over, Chase.” She glances up at me, her heart shattering eyes veiled by her long dark lashes, not hiding a world of regret there. “It’s late. I think it’s time to see her home. I’ll go with her. You can stay.”

“To hell with that. Where’s the fun in staying here when you’re leaving?”

On the short drive home, we make small talk, but underneath the conversation all I’m thinking about is how I can convince Em to stay with me. At my gran’s—my home. Tough one. I already texted the guys to let them know they’re on their own, taking so much shit in the group text that I had to turn my phone off.

I probably owe them a steak dinner, or two, but they’re big boys and they pretty much expected this—and are adjusting well to staying in town. I’ve promised them a ride back to Portsmouth in the morning.

When we arrive, Em is ready to change out of her dress and leave, but Gran does the convincing for me, insisting that Emery stay the night.

“Chase, you can show her the guest room when she’s finished helping me disassemble this outfit. I feel like a stage actor in a costume and all the make-up and whatnot holding my hair in place.”

I chuckle and exchange a glance with Em, holding her eyes long enough to tell her there’s no fucking way she’s staying in the guest room. The satisfying blush of her face tells me that she gets my message.

I shower and throw on a robe, then wait for Em in the hallway outside Gran’s room, not exactly spying, but overhearing them. She’s so sweet and caring the way she treats Gran and she must be exhausted.