Page 48 of The Witch is Back

“No! No, I mean, no.” Brilliant, Emma. “It’s fine. I won’t subject you to Clarissa any more than absolutely necessary.” She smile-grimaced and then pushed away her plate. “That was great. Really.”

If someone had paid her a million dollars to read his thoughts right then, she’d have to refund the money. She held his gaze, projecting nothing but innocence as he studied her. When he finally looked back at his plate, tension melted from her shoulders and she slumped with a relieved breath.

“Got dinner plans?”

The way he rocketed from subject to subject left a girl dizzy. “Sundays usually mean Chinese takeout. I’m happy to split the bill.”

“We’re going to have to talk about this takeout dependency.”

She laughed and his face did the scientist thing again. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a monkey that just learned to talk.”

He grinned. “What’s your favorite restaurant?” A smooth change of subject, she noted.

She shrugged. “Probably Cesario’s. Italian,” she clarified.

“I’m spending the day with my mom, too.” He gave her a thin smile. “But after that, you, me, Cesario’s. Bottle of wine.”

“Why?” It came out unbidden. Unnerved.

“Because I like to drink wine with Italian. So?”

It was dinner. They were adults and...they were hungry. And they were getting to know each other again. Their new motto/mission statement. She forced a casual expression even as her palms sweated. “Okay.”

“It’s a date!” Leah crowed. Her butt wriggled in her seat, a pretty good impression of Chester when he’d been given a Milk-Bone.

Emma glowered next to her where they sat at the shelter’s reception desk. She’d clocked in an hour ago and had innocently brought up the invite when Sloane had gone to help clean out the kennels with another volunteer her age. She had adamantly not wanted to work with a stranger, but Emma was trying to slowly challenge her to meet and talk to new people. She just hoped she’d done the right thing.

However, she was regretting bringing up the dinner plans immensely. “It’s not. It’s dinner.”

“With your fiancé.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s not a date?”

“No.”

“Will there be wine?”

“Leah.”

“Are you going to change?”

“Of course. I’m wearing clothes that smell like dog.”

Leah lowered her voice. “Will you put on lacy underwear?”

Emma took a beat. “Why?”

“You’re right. Maybe too obvious. But at least wear something sexy. Is he a legs-and-butt man or is he all about the girls?”

“Oh, my Goddess.”

“It’s a valid question so you know how to dress.” Leah tapped her lips with a pen. “He strikes me as a leg man. A short skirt is always a winner.”

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