Page 52 of Caught in the Middle

Emma couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her lips so she looked down into the giant bloody mary glass she was holding. She took a drink from the straw then her head popped up. “Wooh,” she let out. “Between the mimosas during my pedicure, the wine at dinner, and this bad boy, I have a feeling you’ll be carrying me into the room tonight.”

The idea of carrying Emma to bed did exciting things to Cam, but the thought of carrying a drunken Emma to bed just made him make a mental note to stop downstairs for Advil and extra water bottles for her in the morning. And probably some snacks. He noticed she was a late-night snacker so far this week.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked. “Don’t you be getting any ideas,” she teased.

Cam tilted his beer back. “If you’re drinking that much tonight then I assure you the only kind of lucky I’m getting is if I win at any of these slot machines. When I get lucky with you, you best believe you’ll be as sober as a Sunday sermon for it.”

How could Cam admitting he wasn’t going to lay a finger on her tonight send a pulse down her spine and out through her fingers and toes? She ignored the eclectic humming he caused her body and instead asked, “You don’t play Blackjack?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Can’t say I ever have or that I know how.”

Emma sat straight up. “Are you serious?”

The sparkle in her eyes made him smile. “Yep.” Before he knew what was happening, she was slipping out of her barstool and onto her feet, her drink in one hand and her other entwining through his own.

“It’s time you learn,” she beamed, headed straight for the open tables.

???

She had not been lying about the state she’d be in by the time they returned to the hotel room, Cam noted with amusement, one of Emma’s arms draped over his shoulder as he steered her down the hallway.

“Your shirt is so soft,” she was murmuring and giggling as she kept petting his chest like a house cat. “But not here,” she poked his peck. “That’s hard. Very hard.” She laughed as if she’d invented the funniest joke ever told.

Cam would’ve lightly removed her hand from his chest if he wasn’t worried she’d pivot and run back to the elevator the moment he let go of her waist or the arm around him. He’d bet money on her trying to return to the snack bar. He already had a box of cookies and brownies–thanks to the employee who took pity on him in the lobby and brought it to him without being prompted–tucked under his arm.

“Anyone ever told you that your jokes match that of a high school boy?” he asked humorously. Emma stopped laughing, her head tilting up to look at him. Oh, the beauty that carefree and joyous face held.

“Were you a funny high school boy?” she asked as if it were the most serious question in the world.

He did his best to prop her up against him as he snaked one of his hands into his back pocket for his wallet to dig out the hotel key. “I don’t think you would’ve noticed me in high school.”

“Why not?”

“I’m sure you would’ve been too busy dealing with all the guys throwing themselves at you. Showing off those newfound hard pecs they had,” he said with a wink and opened the door.

“No,” was all she said as he opened the door and helped her in.

“Do you need the bathroom first?”

“I’m not a child,” she giggled.

Cam gave her a face to suggest otherwise, though he was joking and enjoyed the goofy smile he received in return. Truth be told, she was a hilarious drunk. Quite generous too, offering to buy everyone at the bar another drink. Cam didn’t think he’d ever felt his abs grow so sore laughing alongside Emma tonight.

He’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t been a bit nervous about discovering what she was like completely plastered, or worried about her spilling the truth regarding their situation. He’d met plenty of women who lost all inhibitions and class with each glass, some even growing aggressive or ugly-natured, their true colors and insecurities shining out. He’d never been a fan of a sloppy drunk, but if the worst Emma could offer were innuendos, giggly humor, and a deep desire to eat every piece of sugar in sight and befriend everyone she talked to, he wouldn’t mind tossing a few back with her again.

However, he’d chosen to only drink a few tonight and let her have all the fun. He didn’t mind being the more responsible one if it meant he knew she would be safe and sound in their room by the end of the night.

He guided her further into the room and asked, “Are you okay with sleeping in your dress?”

She gave him what he could only assume was a face to say she was thinking about it. “Would you change me if I said no?”

“Like you said, you’re not a child.” He smiled at her eye roll.

“The dress is fine,” she deadpanned, then smiled broadly and shot for the bed, pouncing onto it like she was five. “Dibs on the bed, sucker!”

The amount of glee he saw on that beautiful face had Cam smiling bigger than he had in a long time. He laughed at how happy she was at the stunt she thought she just pulled over on him, especially since he was going to give her the bed anyway.

“I’ll take the cookies now,” she said sweetly.

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