Page 54 of Tackle

Oz jerked and saw Emerson standing beside the table, hands planted on hips, glaring at the woman beside him.

And him.

Holly whispered out of the side of her mouth to Oz, “Your buzzkill girlfriend is back.”

Oz gritted his teeth. “Time for you to go.”

Holly took her time unfolding herself from the booth to stand right in front of Emerson. “You may be with him now, but he’ll be a part of me forever.” She tugged at her top, showing off her new tattoo, giving Emerson a triumphant smile.

“Go now,” Oz growled.

“If you come back again, I’m calling the cops,” Emerson added.

Holly rolled her eyes at Oz and mouthed, “See, buzzkill.” But before he or Emerson could say anything further, she stuffed her phone in her back pocket and sauntered to the door.

Emerson kept her eyes on Holly until she was gone. Oz kept his eyes on Emerson. “I think there’s something a little off with her. Like you said, if she comes back, we’ll call the police.”

He finally got Emerson’s eyes. They didn’t look happy. “I’ll go see if your order’s ready.”

She turned on her heel and Oz called out, “Emerson.”

But she didn’t stop and he watched her until she disappeared into the kitchen.

Chapter Eighteen

As soon as Matt walked through the door of the pub, Emerson was ready to go home. Hell, she even had her purse at hand. She looked over at Oz, still sitting in his booth, waiting on her. She really wasn’t in the mood to talk to him right now, but she couldn’t just ditch him either.

She’d been pissed ever since she’d seen the fan girl kissing him. She knew her anger was semi-irrational, and maybe if Oz hadn’t autographed the same woman’s boobs the month before, it might not have affected her so badly. Or maybe it would have. Who knows? All she knew was, she didn’t like it.

Not at all.

“Are you good if I get out of here?” she asked Matt as soon as he stepped behind the bar. She already had her purse slung over her shoulder.

His eyes darted to her purse and then Oz, a knowing grin splitting his face. “Hot date?”

“No, I’m not feeling well.” Which was true, she just wasn’t sick.

His expression sobered. “Sure. No problem. Go, get some rest.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

Emerson made her way over to Oz’s table. “I’m gonna head home.”

Concern distorted his features. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” then continued her semi-lie, “I’m not feeling great.”

“You’re sick?”

Of course Oz would ask a million questions, forcing her to upgrade her semi-lie to a full-blown one. “I have a headache and want to lie down.” Actually maybe that wasn’t a lie. She did feel one starting to form.

“I’ll drive you home.” He made to get up and she put out a hand to stop him, stilling him mid-rise.

“No, you stay. I’ll call you later.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond, just booked it out of the pub, going straight to her car.

It wasn’t until she was stopped at a red light that she saw Oz’s Escalade in her rearview mirror.

He was following her.

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