He linked their fingers together and guided her into the warmth of the restaurant, the spicy scents of curry and ginger mingling in the air as they made their way toward the hostess. “So what do I need to do?” Emma asked.
Dean turned, walking backwards, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he smiled and made her melt. “Just be your usual gorgeous self, and go with the flow.”
In other words he wasn’t telling her what was going down.
She stepped against his side when he stopped, whispering in his ear as he slipped his arm around her. “You like making mischief.”
“Right you are.” He pressed his fingers under her chin and tilted her head enough he could brush his lips over hers, a brief kiss that made her tingle. “Don’t worry, I know you can improvise.”
The woman standing at the desk smiled at them, her long dark hair pulled into an elaborate ponytail that let the tight curls cascade over her shoulders. The soft candlelight tones of the wall sconces made her skin glow like warm ebony. “Welcome. Two for lunch?”
Dean cleared his throat. “Cassandra Myers?”
The woman blinked. “Yes? Do I know you?”
“Nathan sent us.” Dean released Emma’s fingers. “I have a message from him for you, if you have a moment?”
Cassandra glanced behind them, but there was no one else waiting to be seated. “Sure. Go ahead.”
Digging into his pocket, Dean winked at the woman as she smiled patiently. He raised a small white card in the air in front of him and proceeded to read dramatically.
“Roses are red, and violets are blue, but neither of them are the flowers for you.” He glanced over the note and whispered reassuringly, “Nate told us about the little hay-fever date incident…no repeats, he swears.” She laughed as Dean returned to reading his cues. “It’s only right to find a way, to show how much you’re loved each day. So say the word, and the DreamMakers crew, will help us plan a paradise for two.”
He didn’t just read the words, he worked it, making grand gestures and boldly intoning the awful poetry like he was performing on Broadway. By the time he finished, Emma was holding back her laughter, and Cassandra was full-out snickering.
The woman raised a brow as Dean handed over a business card. “DreamMakers? Did you write that poem?”
“No, ma’am, that was one hundred percent Nathan.”
“That’s what I figured.” Cassandra’s lips twisted into a smile. “So what will you do? And what do I need to help with?”
Dean caught Emma by the hand again, pulling her close. “We’ll have one of our staff contact you. She’ll interview you, go through some options.” Emma found herself in his arms, moving slowly to unheard music. “Maybe you’ll decide you want to dance under the stars, or—”
He dipped her. Right there in mid-step, he twirled her on the spot and lowered her over his arm, leaning them intimately together as he stared into her eyes. “Or maybe he’ll sweep you off your feet and steal your breath away…”
Emma couldn’t protest, even if she wanted to. She spotted Cassandra and other restaurant patrons watching with high interest, and then she couldn’t see anything except Dean as he closed the distance between them and kissed her.
Whoa nelly, this was no brief, puritan encounter—it was heated and passionate, and borderline risqué. Dean’s hot mouth worked hers with mind-blowing thoroughness, and by the time he pulled away they were both breathing heavily. His grin widened as he tugged her back to vertical with a flourish, tucking her against his side as they stood before Cassandra.
The woman fanned a hand in front of her face. “Well now, I have no objection to working with DreamMakers if that’s the kind of attention I’m going to get out of it from Nathan.”
Emma didn’t blame her—heck, she was ready to sign up on the spot for more of Dean’s improvisations anytime he wanted. She waited quietly as Dean made the arrangements for Gillian to get in touch, and then they headed back out on the street.
Their outing had been cute and unexpected, and Emma found herself holding tightly to Dean’s hand because somehow in the middle of doing his task he’d also managed to make her feel special. It hadn’t been anything wildly extravagant, but he’d trusted her, and it had just been…right.
Corny as all get-out, admittedly, but there was nothing wrong with that. More of her earlier frustrations faded away to be replaced with a sense of happiness she hadn’t felt in the longest time.
Honestly? She liked Dean. She liked him a whole lot. And maybe it was time to do something spur of the moment.
Since he’d just proved improvisation could be a lot of fun…
Dean couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face as he and Emma walked back to his SUV. When Parker had fallen head over heels for Lynn and turned into Mr. Romance, Dean had teased his friend mercilessly about it. But now? He felt like apologizing to the guy.