Page 45 of Tackle

Taken aback, Emerson sputtered, “Excuse me?”

Oz stepped up to her side. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem. I was congratulating yourgirlfriendon her big win.”

Oz looked at her and she gave him a minute head shake.

“I think you better leave.” Oz wrapped his arm around Emerson’s shoulders.

The guy held his hands up, palms out. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“That’s funny,” Emerson said, “because it sounded as if that’s exactly what you were trying to do.”

“Go, now,” Oz’s deep voice growled. “I won’t ask you again.”

The guy was about half Oz’s size, and unless he had premature male pattern baldness, had to be at least in his forties. If he were smart, he wouldn't stick around.

He proved himself to be at least a little intelligent by taking a large step back. “I’m leaving. It was nice,” he sneered, “meeting you both.” With that, he turned on a heel and walked away.

Emerson kept her eyes on him until he was safely back in his booth.

“What a charmer,” Leslie said, coming up to them.

Emerson shook off her creeps. “Come on, let’s get the rest of this stuff packed and get the hell out of here.”

Chapter Fifteen

Oz knocked on Emerson’s door then ran nervous hands down the front of his slacks, smoothing the wrinkles he’d gotten on the drive over. He was more anxious than when he’d come to pick her up for their first dinner date.

He hadn’t thought that was possible.

Big, strong, imposing, he wasn’t intimidated by much, but he was scared to death to meet Emerson’s parents. Unfortunately, that’s where they were headed to now.

The door opened and a beaming Emerson stood before him. Only he couldn’t pay attention to her smile, too distracted by the silk robe she wore. Or should he say he was distracted by what the robe revealed. Simply belted at the waist, the deep vee didn’t hide the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra, nor did her nipples which poked through the thin fabric. That the robe was short didn’t help his wandering eyes either.

“Hey.” She swung the door open wider, stepping back. “I’m almost ready. I just need to get dressed. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

With a mind of its own, his hand reached out to grab for her arm. His fingers slipped on the silky, cool fabric, but it was enough to stop her in her tracks. She stood, looking at him, still smiling, while he stood… mute.

“Everything okay?”

He could only imagine the look on his face. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s just,” he stalled, not knowing what to say. Not the truth—that his dick had taken control of his mind.

“Just,” she prompted with a small smile.

Did she know what she was doing to him? “Just… wondering if I’m dressed okay,” he hedged.

She approached him, her hands coming up to adjust the collar of his dress shirt. “You look very handsome. As always.”

He nodded, his hand reaching up to run through his hair, forgetting he’d slicked it back into a low ponytail.

Her head tilted slightly to the side. “You’re acting funny. You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah. Nothing but a bit of nerves.”

“My parents are going to love you.”

“Is your father a football fan?”

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