Page 40 of The One Timer
“What do you want if you win?”
“Besides a million dollars and world peace?”
I laugh. “In that order?” I lower my voice and get close to her ear. “What do you really want, Em? I think I know—”
Her grin fades, and her smile takes a sensual turn. “Besides that.” She takes a deep breath, and we stare at each other for a beat. I’m reading her mind, and I know she’s lying.
“Don’t lie, honeypie.”
She grins and covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Honey pie? What decade is that from?”
“Stop changing the subject. Admit you want me.”
“Okay, but that’s still not what I want to win.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just say I meant it when I said you’re a one-timer.”
The turmoil in my gut surprises me, the way it twists around well past disappointment and into the realm of…something I don’t recognize. Longing? Maybe. Because I want her. Bad. And not for all the wrong reasons, I insist to my conscience.
“How about if we leave it that I’ll be satisfied with winning the bet without any prize?” she says in a gentle voice, like maybe she’s trying to soften the blow she knows she just inflicted.
The car gets quiet, so I turn to Gran, “Emery is staying for dinner. She can stay until six.”
“That’s wonderful. We can have the limo take you home later,” Mrs. W says. “That’ll make it quicker.”
I hear Emery’s phone ping, and she checks it. Her face changes, and her expression turns grim as she shakes her head.
Chapter Thirteen
EMERY
“No, that’s all right. You don’t have to. I don’t want to take you out of your way—in fact, I just got a text from Aunt Bea, and she’s getting home earlier than expected, so I really can’t stay for dinner after all.”
“In that case, I insist on giving you a ride home,” Chase says. “No trouble at all. It’s my fault you’re rushed for time. It’s the least I can do.”
Shit no. The last thing I want is for them to see where I live. Worse, the last thing I need is for Aunt Bea to see me pulling up in a limo. She’ll have a fit. Resentment runs deep in her like it’s in her bone marrow.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and dart a glance at Chase, hoping he can read my mind. He studies me, looking puzzled, but then his forehead clears.
“If you say so,” Mrs. W says. The twinkle in her eye tells me she thinks Chase has something naughty in mind. And damn, I wish that were true. It would be easy to give in but too painful in the end because he may as well be a mirage, someone I can’t really have.
Not in my life. Not if I want to stay on the rails—the rails that seem to get thinner by the minute. Because I’m having a wicked hard time staying on track, feeling like I’m on the edge of jumping to the dark side, allowing myself to think about the impossible, and not staying true to myself and my mission to be an independent woman.
Having a fling with Chase would be fun for a while, easing my bout of loneliness, but it would be going from the frying pan to the fire. If there was any way to tell them I’d rather get dropped off by the chauffeur than the hot hockey player—without looking like a flat-out lunatic—I would be talking fast right now.
As it is, I sit stunned, staring at Chase, and he smiles back like he knows that even though we didn’t make the bet, he’s won all the same.
“Truthfully, I need a nap.” I’m not just saying that to placate her. It’s true. Suddenly, I feel very tired.
“Then let’s get you home.” His expression shows nothing but kind concern now, and I feel like shit for thinking of him as the villain. That’s not fair. How would he know I’m worried my aunt will throw me out if she thinks I have rich friends or hidden money or anything she doesn’t have?
Chapter Fourteen
CHASE
As soon as the limo drives into the alley behind the townhouse and then into the courtyard, I open the door and reach out my hand to help Gran from the back seat. The driver would do it, but not as carefully as I will.
