Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(39)

“I’m sorry,” he said, blinking. “What did you say?”

I laughed. “You’re easily distracted.”

“Just around you,” he told me, leaning in to kiss me. “Mmm, delicious.”

I blushed.

“And no, I don’t really think that we can tempt a chef from a big restaurant to a bar like this. But a guy can dream, can’t he?” he asked with a wink.

“At least this one is fantastic,” I reminded him, taking another chicken wing. “People are going to be lining up around the block to eat at Rascals.”

“They already are,” Emerson said, the pride evident on his face. “Only a few days in and it’s looking like we’re going to be a hit.”

I threw my arms around him. “That’s wonderful,” I told him. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.” He hugged me tightly. “It feels good. Making something of myself, you know? Maybe one day the Hayes name will mean more than just my father and his father before him.”

My mind went back to what Arthur and Lucinda had said that afternoon. About Emerson’s father and connections and how important both were. For a brief moment, I thought about asking Emerson about it, but that thought was quickly dismissed. We were having a good time, there wasn’t any point in ruining it.

“We should celebrate your success,” I told him.

He grinned. “You name the time and place. I’ll be there.”

A different kind of celebrating popped into my head. A private, sexy kind of celebration. One that we could do right here. Right now.

“How about I just celebrate you,” I said, putting aside the plates and taking Emerson’s beer out of his hand.

His eyebrows went up, but he said nothing as I took a long swig of his beer. Then, I got off the couch and knelt on the floor in front of him, making room for myself between his legs. His eyebrows went even higher as I put my hands on his knees and slid them upward.

He was already hard. I could feel him through his jeans as I unbuckled his belt, and then unbuttoned his pants.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, his head falling back as I dragged his zipper down.

His hands were on the couch next to him, but I saw them curl into fists as I took him into my hand. And then into my mouth.

I was going to celebrate him. I was going to celebrate him but good.





16





Alex





The next evening, I didn’t even question my instinct to go to Rascals. Even though we still hadn’t really talked about “us,” after the night Emerson and I had shared, and the way I had rocked his world—his words, not mine—it was pretty clear that he wanted me there, too.

When I headed into the bar after work, I found several familiar faces at the bar. Not just Emerson, but Hayley as well. They were talking to an older woman who was clearly related to both of them. Hayley shared her heart-shaped face, but Emerson had gotten his eyes from her. They were a dark brown, intelligent and clever, taking everything in. She didn’t miss my arrival, nor the way that Emerson straightened when he saw me, or the smile that spread across Hayley’s face.

“Alex!” Emerson’s sister greeted me with a hug. “I haven’t seen you since the night of the opening. How are you?”

“I’m great, it’s good to see you.”

“This is our mother, Portia,” Hayley introduced us. “And this is Emerson’s . . . friend, Alex.”

“Nice to meet you.” Portia shook my hand, glancing between me and Emerson.

“Likewise,” I said, noting at how beautiful and elegant she was—from her perfectly styled hair to her impeccable manicure.

Even though I was wearing my best suit and silk blouse, I felt almost shabby standing next to her.

“I’m here to try to convince my son to join us for dinner tonight,” Portia told me, sharing a look with Hayley. “Maybe you could help us with that? Or, if you’re not busy, we’d love to have you as well.”

“Mom—” Emerson tried to interject, but both his mother and sister ignored him.

“You have to come,” Hayley pleaded with me. “I’ve barely gotten to spend any time with you at all.”

I could see Emerson roll his eyes behind his sister’s back, but he still wore a tense expression on his face, as if all of this was par for the course. I didn’t know how to respond. After what Arthur had said yesterday, it would be foolish of me to turn down an invitation from the Hayes family. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in learning more about Emerson’s life.

“I’d love to join,” I finally said. “If Emerson doesn’t mind.”

Hayley practically jumped for joy. “He doesn’t,” she said, sticking her tongue out at her older brother.

He sighed. “I guess we can go,” he agreed reluctantly.

“Wonderful,” Portia said, rising from her seat. “We’ll see you in an hour then.”

She practically glided out of the bar, Hayley following behind, wiggling her fingers at us before she disappeared.

Emerson ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I can call them and cancel, if you don’t want to go. They can be a bit pushy.”