Fuck, she was beautiful. Beautiful and smart and sweet and funny. She was an older, more mature version of the Emma he’d loved as a kid, and she affected him now as much as she had back then. Left him tongue-tied and weak-kneed, made him feel like the luckiest bastard on the planet.
The hostess led them to a secluded table in the corner of the elegant room. Ornate light fixtures hung from the high ceiling, casting a warm glow over the wood-paneled walls.
“This place is so nice,” Emma remarked. “Have you been here before?”
He shook his head. “No, but I hear the food is amazing. Parker brought Lynn here for their six-month anniver—”
“Dean?” a female voice interrupted.
He turned his head with a frown, which turned into an uneasy smile when he spotted a familiar face.
“Oh my God, it is you,” Sasha Turner gushed. “I was just telling my friend when you walked in, I swear that’s Dean Colter, but I had to come over to make sure. C’mere and give me a hug!”
If it was anyone other than Sasha, Dean would have brushed her off as politely as possible, but he couldn’t do that with this woman, because Sasha owned one of the catering companies DreamMakers had worked with when they were first starting out. Although he and his partners had a strict policy about not sleeping with clients or work associates, Dean and Jack had broken that rule by hooking up with Sasha a few years back, after getting a little too drunk at one of the parties she’d catered for them.
“It’s good to see you,” he said as he rose from his chair, and even as he leaned in for the hug, he saw the tiny frown creasing Emma’s lips.
Shit. She’d witnessed him get a tongue-lashing from Kelly a while back. He prayed that Sasha wasn’t about to do the same, although he couldn’t imagine why she would. Their encounter three years ago had ended with orgasms all around and very pleasant goodbyes.
“I’m mad at you, mister,” she chided good-naturedly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You guys never hire me anymore.”
He did his best to ease his torso away from hers, but with the headlock she had on him there was no escaping her breasts making close contact with his chest. “That’s because you’re too expensive,” he said lightly. “You should take that as a compliment—you’re too high-end for us.”
Her tinkling laughter only made him more uncomfortable. Emma’s displeasure was clear in her eyes, but he couldn’t turn to reassure her because Sasha suddenly gripped his chin with both hands and kissed him.
Dean was completely caught off-guard, so much so that it took him at least three seconds to pull away from the tight lock of her lips. By then, the cloud in Emma’s gaze had gathered in strength, turning her eyes more black than brown.
“Sorry, hon,” Sasha said to Emma, winking at the other woman. “Couldn’t help myself.”
Emma’s expression tightened, but she didn’t say a word.
“Anyway, it was nice running into you.” Sasha released him, and flashed another wink. “Give me a call if you want to catch up. Bring Jack if he’s free.”
With that, she sauntered off on impossibly high heels, her round ass swaying beneath the stretchy fabric of her dress.
Dean took a breath before sinking back into his seat. “Em…”
She primly reached for her water glass. “Yes?”
He exhaled in a rush. “I don’t even know how to begin to apologize for that.”
“What’s there to apologize for? You didn’t kiss her. She kissed you.” Emma’s knuckles strained as she gripped her water glass. “It’s taking all of my willpower not to march over to her table and punch her in the face.”
A faint smile sprang to his lips. “Made you jealous, huh?”
“No, it made me furious.” Her voice lowered, disbelief flitting through her eyes. “Who the hell does that? She knew we were on a date, and she still came over, acted like I wasn’t even here, and kissed my date.”
As amusing as Emma’s anger was, Dean couldn’t help but grab on to the opening she’d given him. “So this is a date?”
One brow rose and her anger twisted into an are you kidding me? expression. “Dean, we’re both wearing dress-up clothes and sitting at a table in a five-star restaurant. Of course it’s a date.”
“Yeah?” His throat ran dry again. “Because…well, since you brought it up, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”
He didn’t miss the wary flicker in her eyes, or the nervous way she toyed with a strand of her dark hair. “You want to talk now? Shouldn’t we order first?”
“I’ll lose my nerve if we put it off too long,” he said, then cringed at his pathetic confession. He didn’t want her to know he was scared. He wanted her to see how confident he was about this, about them. How ready he was to make a commitment, if only she’d let him.
“Emma…” He swallowed through the desert that his mouth had become. “I think—”
Her phone went off.