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AS EMMA HAD expected, there were two side-by-side chairs waiting for her and Grayson when they arrived at the table. Guilty looks flushed her party, followed by a continual stream of questioning looks from the same women who had nothing better to do then debate whether she’d banged Grayson or was working her way up to it.
Did they all think she was that easily swayed into the arms and bed of a man whose pastime was doing exactly that? Tempted by what? His low husky voice and the charming talk that curved with it? Some thick muscles? A head of gorgeous hair? She had more class than that...even Grayson saw that much in her.
Guilt claimed her for giving into her desire for Grayson, especially after he confessed that was one thing about her he liked: that she didn’t want to conquer him. She didn’t. However, since that kiss, it had been hard not to want to kiss him again.
Dinner hadn’t been as insufferable as it would have been if Grayson hadn’t pulled her aside before the main course. She had walked into the restaurant, still fuming over their exchange in his cabin, and unsure how she would manage a proper smile and etiquette at the dinner table when all she contemplated was throwing a dinner plate at his head. Did he not have any morals? They were going into business together, which meant hands off and she wasn’t a floozy.
Then Grayson had taken her hand like a gentleman, touching her respectably and apologized. A real apology. He’d even convinced her...and for such an accomplishment, he earned recognition. Emma was convinced if she hadn’t witnessed him so distraught in the hallway, she wouldn’t have accepted his apology tonight, and would have instead, brushed it off as Grayson simply trying to flatter his way back onto her good side...as if he’d ever been on her good side in the first place.
Whatever was bothering Grayson still worried Emma, to the point she paid special attention to the Cohens behavior all through dinner. She looked for signs of tension, a fight maybe, or disagreement, but came up empty. Instead, the Cohens were another bundle of laughs this evening, smart, entertaining and funny. Emma’s sides had hurt on multiple occasions when her laughter got the best of her. At the same time, it had been a relief to get away from Micah and Casey’s watchful eyes and scribbling notes. She hated the press, and on some level, that’s what they were.
After suffering through supper, the girls decided to hit up one of the dance clubs, the Skyjet. An ironic name since they were on water, still the name was catchy.
The Skyjet was located on the same level as the restaurant and the hum of the music spilled into the hallway as the women shuffled passed security and flashed their bracelets. A bouncy tune screamed in their ears as they entered.
The dark room flashed with neon strobe lights, and the closer they walked to the stage, the brighter the room became.
The tiled dance floor had illuminated lights and two rows of high pub tables bordered the dance floor and to the stage where a band was pounding off popular music for the dancers. Surprisingly, they found an empty table and dropped their purses on the red surface to claim stake. They didn’t hit the dance floor right away, and Emma tuned in pretty quickly to what held them back.
“That was some serious dancing you were having with Grayson,” Izzy said. “More like serious discussion. An awkward, hands off, kind of discussion. What was that all about?”
“Him being a jackass,” Emma answered.
She wasn’t about to share a single detail about her entanglement with Grayson this afternoon. Emma told herself it was to prevent the constant badgering that would follow, but deep down, those few moments with Grayson, were a fantasy she wanted to stash away in her own secret Pandora’s box.
Sure, Izzy and Abby had come to their own conclusions, falling upon a breathless Emma in the hallway earlier, but in no way would she deny or account for anything they suggested. She held firm. She was going to hold the upper hand.
The three women flashed her suggestive grins and provocative narrowed eyes, their faces screaming sex.
Oh bugger.
“It absolutely, in no way, had anything to do with sex. So just get those looks off all your faces.” She pointed a finger around at the girls, who burst into laughter for a good solid minute. It wasn’t that funny, but Emma laughed with their ridiculousness.
“Izzy, do you mix business with pleasure?” Melissa asked, as the laughter came to an end. Her daring eyes locked on Emma’s. “Maybe have a little fun with the guests or employees at the resort?”
Izzy made a face. “No. Never. Marc would kill me.”
“He would kill us,” Emma agreed. “Or at the very least, we’d have to endure one of his long, judgemental, cool and collected and sort of annoying lectures. The ones that would make us do whatever he’s indicating just to never have to suffer through it again. And the look. You know the one, when he’s caught you red-handed, and he’s disappointed and disgusted, unable to wrap his mind around why you’ve done whatever you’ve done wrong?”
All the women nodded, knowing exactly what look she was referring to. Marc was a perfectionist, with a side of seriousness, which was hard to break.
“Marc wouldn’t date you when he came back home,” Izzy said to Melissa. “And I bet it had to do with your position at the resort.”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “He dated the helps daughter. The helps daughter. I think that entitles you to date or do whoever you want.”
Abby cleared her throat. “The help’s daughter is standing right here,” she said, throwing an unappreciative glance at Melissa.
Melissa waved a hand at her. “Pointing that out only makes it awkward.”
“Saying the help’s daughter, in front of the helps daughter, makes it awkward,” Abby said. “Or trying to steal my sister’s husband...”
Melissa smiled, as if she’d triumphed that win, which she hadn’t. No doubt, Melissa had taken immense pleasure in the play of attempting to weasel her way between Abby’s sister Kate, and Marc, who were now happily married. At the beginning of Kate and Marc’s engagement, Emma hadn’t been supportive either. While the rest of her family seemed to have forgotten Kate had broken her brother’s heart once before, the truth lingering in the back of Emma’s head made it impossible to forgive and forget. Not right away anyway, but she had and would admit that, today, Kate was the best thing for Marc. Emma had never seen him happier.
“They weren’t married,” Melissa pointed out.
“Engaged to be married,” Abby said. Most people would sit back and let Melissa’s remarks slide, a little terrified to go head-to-head with the mayor’s daughter, but Abby wasn’t most people, and she charged head on into conflict, as if she enjoyed it.
“Again, pointing it out doesn’t change it,” Melissa said.
“And you two talking about it is only making us feel awkward,” Izzy said.
“I’m going to get some drinks.” Using the excuse as a reason to escape the battle, Emma left the table.
At the bar, Emma ordered four drinks.
“Coming right up,” the bartender said with a friendly nod and bright smile.
“Could you add one more.” Grayson came up beside her. He rested his elbows on the bar and looked at her.
“Hi,” he said, wearing that handsome smile of his. His leg melting smile, attached to his lips...and boy those lips knew how to move.
Snap out of it.
“Hi,” she said back.
They sat quietly staring at each other, but the music more than made up for the awkward silence between them.
“I’ve never been friends with a woman before,” Grayson said, leaning in so he didn’t have to shout it. “Is this awkwardness normal? Does it ever go away?”
Emma laughed. “I didn’t realize we were friends.”
“What else would I call you?” He hadn’t moved away, and the same soap and cologne smell she’d endured throughout supper teased her again, leaving her longing for the smell of his skin, a mixture of masculinity and sun-kissed goodness.
“I could think of a thousand other things you could call me. One I frequently refer to you as in my head is, my arched enemy. Most recently, seaweed scum.”
Grayson roared with laughter and Emma found herself smiling with him as the drinks arrived.
“Are you meeting someone?” she asked, nearly biting her tongue as they words came out.
He shook his head.
“Do you want to come hang with us?” She needed a zipper on her mouth like he needed a chastity belt. Where was her filter?
Grayson glanced through the crowd at the girls staring back at them.
He scopes you out. According to Grayson, her lack of desire for him, appealed to him. If only he knew what thoughts she was having in her head right now.
“They’re harmless,” Emma said, talking about the girls.
Let them stare him away. What is wrong with you? Trouble, hello, Grayson Cohen is a little bit of bad. And now that she’d tasted him, she was finding him hard to give up.
“I doubt harmless is the correct term,” he said with a wink. “But, I’m always up for a little bit of trouble.”
Why did that one comment heat her entire body and dry her mouth?
Emma grabbed a couple of drinks and Grayson grabbed the remainder.
“I’m going to warn you, this is one wild group of women once they start throwing back the drinks.”
“You too?”
She shook her head. “I’m not much of a drinker. This will likely be my limit.”
He stepped back, with no expected snarky comment, only a grin that said it all. “After you.”
Emma slipped off the stool and started toward the girls.
Friends...she couldn’t quite wrap her head around that, but maybe it was because she’d spent so long hating him...or because after that kiss she couldn’t stop thinking about him in a way that was so far from friendly. Either way, she had a feeling being friends with Grayson would demonstrate why it was hard for men and women to hold onto a platonic relationship.