One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(56)



“I’ll meet you at the resort’s helipad in an hour,” he said.

*

According to Emily, this was her first time in a helicopter. If the idea of death-defying height and the careening through the sky in something barely larger than the size of her car had made her anxious, she didn’t show it as they boarded the helicopter that Shayla had called for them from a private airfield in San Antonio.

Even if Emily had been on edge, there was no way it compared to Knox’s nervous anticipation of sitting across the table from her in a candlelit restaurant. Especially with her looking so extraordinarily beautiful tonight. She’d worn her curly hair down so that it skimmed her shoulders and brushed against the black dress that seemed perfectly molded to her every curve. Keeping his eyes on her face was proving a Herculean task.

Ty had watched their every move from a golf cart at the edge of the heliport. For all Knox’s determination not to give the impression of impropriety with Emily, he sure was failing at that tonight, whisking her away for a nine o’clock reservation, right from their place of business out in the open for all to see.

“It’s a rush, isn’t it? Having that much money at your disposal,” she said once they were in the air.

“It has its perks.”

“It’s no wonder you weren’t impressed with my lowly, no-name credentials when you first came to Briscoe Ranch. Why would you be when you can dine on meals created by the finest chefs in the world with the snap of your fingers?”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that that wouldn’t get him in trouble. She was correct on all fronts, but her analysis was only part of the story. “Then what does it say about your charisma and your skills that you’ve made me see how narrow my vantage point about food was?”

She smiled a little at his words, then settled back to enjoy the view.

A car was waiting for them at the private airfield where they touched down. Knox insisted on helping her jump out of the helicopter, which she probably only allowed because the strappy black heels she wore looked precarious indeed. Her hand was small and cool to the touch. But still, he found the willpower to release it when she was safely on the ground.

She allowed for his help again when they reached the restaurant. This time, after he pulled her from the car, he didn’t let her hand go, but tucked it into the crook of his arm, shocked all over again that she would allow it.

Perhaps, just for this night, they could leave their baggage and careers behind in Dulcet and simply be two friends out on the town. It was worth a try, anyway.

The Smoking Gun was a molecular gastronomist’s take on a traditional Texas barbecue joint—a hipster paradise in the heart of hipsterville itself, Austin’s Warehouse District. The mood was electric, the dining room crowded and noisy. They were seated at a relatively intimate window table and immediately attended to by a youthful, goateed server in skinny jeans and an even skinnier tie.

As soon as they’d ordered a bottle of Syrah and the server left, Emily tore a corner off a piece of Texas toast from the basket on the table. “You said you had a great day. What happened?”

She would, of course, learn the results of today’s battle of wills in due time, probably along with the rest of the resort staff when it was announced that Knox was replacing Ty as the CEO, but not tonight. There was no way he was going to interfere with the warm sweetness that had returned to Emily’s face or the casual, intimate manner with which she’d asked the question, as though this were merely one of thousands of nights that they’d come together over dinner, reviewing their day. He’d missed that this week, since she’d relegated him to the dining room to eat dinner alone.

So, instead, he told her simply, “I met with a team of structural engineers today about the expansion. It’s great to see my vision for the resort starting to materialize. Hey, here’s a question for you, since you’ve lived in Dulcet for quite a few years. Tell me stories about it snowing at the resort. I heard it doesn’t happen often…”

To his delight, she regaled him with stories of flurries and miniature snowmen scraped together from the occasional light dustings of snow that Dulcet experienced in a normal year. After that, they poured over the menu, with Knox pausing to quiz her about various techniques and ingredients he’d either never heard of or been curious enough to ask about, and none he’d probably remember if he’d been tested, he was so fixated on Emily rather than their meal choices.

Their wine arrived, with Emily doing the tasting honors. At the first sip, her body swayed and her eyes fluttered closed for a long moment. A smile curved her lips. “Oh, wow.”

The dim mood-lighting played on her body the same way as the moonlight had on the rowboat ride they’d taken. The glow kissed her skin and reflected off her hair like gold flecks. It glittered over her lower lip and played in her eyes like lightning. And just as he had on that boat ride, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

While the server filled their wine glasses, Knox ordered one of every dish that had caught their eye, eager to expedite the server’s interruption so he could have Emily to himself again. When the server left, Knox took his wine glass in hand. “So, it’s good?”

“Better than good. I can think of six different dishes to cook for you that I could pair with this wine.”

“Why? What does it taste like?” Anything to keep her talking.

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