Don't Walk Away (DreamMakers #3)

“Hmmm. By ‘whoever’, do you mean the very hot brunette whose assignment you botched last week? The one who goes by the name of Gillian?”


Chase blinked innocently. “She was hot? I didn’t notice.”

Suz snorted. “Uh-huh, I’m sure you didn’t. Dude, she makes me drool.”

His expression turned painful. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“What? You don’t want to play Marry, Fuck, Kill with me? You and the guys do it all the time.”

“Not the same.”

She grinned. “It’s because of the boobs, right?”

Her brother blanched. “You’re my sister. You have no sexual parts whatsoever.”

“Unlike Gillian, who has a very nice rack,” Suz offered.

“Incredible,” Chase agreed before slamming his lips together and glaring at her. “You’re nasty.”

“You’re just discovering this? I’m so disappointed. I thought you were the smart one of the bunch.”

She was ready to go in for the kill and find out more about his obsession with the ex-military sniper when he ducked away from her, raised his hand in the air and shouted, “Yo, Charlton!”

He didn’t get another word out before the man was jogging across the yard to join them.

Chase snorted, turning to offer her a bemused smirk. “Jeez, Suz, what do you do to get them this obedient? Puppy treats?”

“Nope. It’s the boobs you pretend I don’t have.”

“Nuh-uh, can’t heeeeear you!” Chase was already plugging his ears and racing away.

Suz grinned after him. In spite of the hours she still had to endure before she could go home and drink the memories of the evening into oblivion, at least she had new intel. Information that should be very fun to exploit at the appropriate moment.

It made it a little easier to offer a bright smile to the eager young man prancing up to her like a golden retriever puppy—and she had Chase to thank for the images of dogs in bowties that popped into her head every time she looked at Charlton now. Still, every raincloud had a silver lining if you poked around hard enough. Intel plus future bribe material equaled not a total waste of her time and energy.

She took a deep breath, resisted the urge to scratch her date behind the ears, and slammed the door on the part of her brain that wondered what Colby was up to that night.





Chapter Thirteen





The sketches were too…cute.

Emma released a frustrated breath as she examined her morning’s work, but she didn’t need to go over it with eagle eyes to know the designs she’d been sketching weren’t her typical Fire and Ice creations. The company was known for its racy haute couture garments—and these bright, airy dresses staring up from the pages of her sketchbook were in no way racy. They looked more like the costume designs from a movie like Pleasantville. Sweet and adorable and wrong.

It was Dean’s fault. She had no other explanation for why she now possessed the creative instincts of a Disney cartoonist. The man was distracting her with his toe-curling kisses and contagious enthusiasm, making her feel like a damned teenager again.

“Em?”

Speak of the devil.

Irritation and amusement warred inside her as Dean strode into the suite like he owned it. For the past week, he’d dropped by so often she’d finally given him his own key card so he would stop picking the lock and shorting the system. He always gave her a heads-up before showing up, though, so she’d been expecting him today, and she rose from her seat to greet him.

“Hey.” After a beat of hesitation, she planted a kiss on his cheek.

God, this was weird. Neither one of them had mentioned the D-word—dating—but Emma was having trouble thinking about him in terms of just sex anymore. Sure, he rocked her world every time she saw him, but they were engaging in a heck of a lot of nonsexual activities too. Watching movies. Cuddling. Running on the boardwalk.

She had no idea what it meant, and a part of her was too afraid to ask him. No—too afraid to know the answer.

Did he want a relationship with her?

Did she want one with him? If this was any other man, at this point the answer to that would be hell yes, but this was Dean, damn it. The guy who’d broken her heart and left her in the lurch all those years ago. She might have forgiven him, but that didn’t mean she was ready to trust him with her heart.

Eventually she wanted forever with a man she could count on, and Dean’s track record didn’t exactly mesh with happily ever afters and other fairy tales.

“Hey.” His gorgeous smile made her pulse speed up. “Whatcha working on?” Dean wandered over to the dining room table before she could protest, his dark head bending over the designs. “Nice. These are hot.”

Emma smiled wryly. “They’re sweet, that’s what they are.”

“Who says sweet can’t be hot?” He flashed another grin, and her heart raced even faster. “Actually, the more innocent a dress looks, the filthier it is.”

She had to laugh. “That’s because you’re imagining ripping it off a woman with your teeth.”