Taking a sip of her water, she scoffed. “He’s seriously lost his mind.”
She watched as a superior smile washed over his face.
She began to text him back, letting him know she wouldn’t beg for an answer, but he sent another: I decided I’m in a generous mood tonight since my team is whipping some serious ass. Forget about you begging me…which I know you would’ve…text back the magic word, and I will relinquish the information you so desire. Clue…it starts with pretty…
She rolled her eyes and texted him back: Please…
His answering text was quick: I knew I could get you to beg…Molly.
Now she couldn’t help but laugh. Her text was a little more demanding this time: Emily to you, “stalkerboy”. You didn’t get me to beg for anything. I want the information.
Oh, his smile was teetering between lewd and mischievous when she looked in his direction now.
He responded: You begged, doll, and I’m pretty sure…no, I’m positive…I could get you to beg for plenty of things if given the proper chance to do so. Plenty. But, to answer your question, Olivia gave me your number. I would assume my source doesn’t come as a shock…
She sighed: I disagree with the begging part. I call it being courteous. Not sure how to answer your second statement except to say that you’re an arrogant bastard. No, I’m not shocked about Olivia being your partner in crime…the both of you are certifiably nuts…
Between becoming consumed in her text session with Gavin and the now roaring Yankees fans in the background, Emily didn’t notice that Dillon had disappeared. However, she couldn’t help but notice Gavin staring directly at her with only a barstool separating them now. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as he closed that distance by sliding over into the seat next to her. Propping his elbow on the bar, his smile was no less cocky than before.
“So, says the ‘arrogant bastard,’” he began, shifting his body to face her, “are you still going to deny that I made you beg?”
The familiarity of his humor-filled voice sent chills down her back. With a smirk, she let out an exasperated breath. “You’re relentless.”
“Always,” he answered evenly. Taking a long pull from his beer, his gaze never left hers. “I figured it was a good way to break the tension hanging in the air.”
“You have a funny way of breaking tension, Gavin.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Let’s see…trying to get me to admit that I was begging.” She answered, crossing her legs, and then quickly added, “Which I wasn’t.”
“You begged, doll, but I’ll let it go.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “I give up; you win.”
He smiled, and for a minute, he let himself drown in her, getting lost in the memory of her touch. “In all seriousness, I figured my little texting skit might go over well,” he said as his eyes shimmered with something akin to an apology behind them. “I’m hoping it did at least.”
He was right; the tension that had built up inside her had seemed to dissipate. Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded. “It did.”
Slowly, he slid a bottle cap over to her and smiled. “Truce?”
Looking down at the smooth-lacquered bar, she picked up the cap and rolled it in her fingers with a weak smile on her lips. In whatever way she could take it, she needed to be right with him—needed to be right with them. Emily knew fate wasn’t playing fair with either one of their hearts. Fate had broken all the rules in their case, creating a no-holds-barred wicked game that was demolishing both of their inner beings. Tugging at their deepest thoughts with strength unlike any other, it was bringing the strongest of men down to his knees and had her questioning her decisions—but she wasn’t about to let it destroy either of their lives any further.
Drawing in another deep breath, she met his gaze and nodded. “Yes, Gavin…truce.”
As the relief soaked through his veins, Gavin analyzed her face, hoping to burn the vision of her into his memory. It’d felt like forever since he’d seen her. “So how’ve you been?”
“I’ve been doing okay. You?”
“Yeah, I’ve been alright,” he lied smoothly, praying she couldn’t tell. She gave him a weak smile that had him second-guessing his acting abilities. “So Olivia told me that since Dillon’s leaving on business tomorrow, she’s your official date to my mother’s fundraiser this weekend.”
“Yes, she is. Tina’s going away to her grandparents’ home in Texas, so we figured we’d make it a certified ladies’ night together.”
“Very cool,” he smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
Smiling, she let out a cough. “Well, I’m looking forward to it.”
“You don’t sound good,” he said, placing the back of his hand against her forehead. She flinched away slightly but smiled. “You actually feel feverish.”
“You can tell by feeling my forehead, huh?” She brought her hand up to her forehead. She then started rummaging through her purse, looking for Tylenol. “Now your resume consists of business mogul, nanny, and doctor, too.”
Laughing, he shrugged. “The nanny part coincides with the doctor part. I’ve watched Timothy and Theresa a few times while they were sick.” He took a swig of his beer. “You shouldn’t be out, feeling the way you do.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I know I shouldn’t be.” He looked at her questioningly. Popping the medicine into her mouth, she downed some water. “Long story.”