Page 114 of Puck and Prejudice

He smiles, but it’s tight. “I missed you too.”

She turns to us. “Oh my God. You must think I’m so rude. Hi, I’m Emma, Grayson’s cousin.”

“You’re not my cousin,” he grits out, then turns to us. “She’s not my cousin.”

“Not by blood, but it still counts.” She looks in our direction. “My uncle is married to his aunt.”

Frederico stands up, smiling from ear to ear, and extends his hand to her. “Nice to meet you, Emma. I’m a huge fan.”

“Aww, aren’t you sweet?” She tilts her head. “You look familiar. Do you play with Grayson by any chance?”

“No. I’m a striker for the Miami Stars Futbol Club.”

Her blue eyes widen. “Oh, that’s awesome! I love soccer.”

“This is Jackson Darcy, and Izzie Bennet,” Grayson interjects rather rudely. I wonder why he’s bothered by Emma’s presence.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles, and I’m so starstruck that all I can do is croak a barely audible hello.

I’m still flustered when a tall and attractive man waves at Emma from across the room, catching her attention. “I’d better go. My date is waiting for me. Have a nice evening, y’all.”

It’s comical how Frederico’s expression falls, and now he’s matching Grayson’s sourpuss expression.

“So… what’s the story between you and Emma?” I ask.

“There’s no story,” Grayson replies without meeting my eyes.

Jackson and I trade a glance, and he seems as clueless about Grayson’s change of mood as me.

“Right… and water isn’t wet,” Frederico pipes up. “You looked as happy to see Emma as I am to get a prostate exam.”

“She seems all nice and sweet, but she’s the fucking devil. Trust me on this.”

Frederico looks in her direction longingly. “A beauty with the voice of angel and the antics of the devil? I think I’m in love.”

Grayson shakes his head, and then twists around searching for someone. “Where’s that damn waiter with our drinks?”

My phone vibrates in my purse. Thinking it could be Jane, I check the message.

JACKSON: How fast can finish your meal?

I look up, but the waiter is back and serving everyone’s drinks, so I can’t make eye contact with Jackson.

Depends how big it is.

I put the phone back in my purse quickly, lest one of the other guys notices I’m texting.

Frederico raises his glass. “A toast to the fun weekend ahead of us.”

“Cheers,” the rest of us say in unison.

I take a sip of my chocolate martini while holding Jackson’s stare. I’m being quite obvious right now, but I don’t care. Maybe the alcohol has already gone to my head.

I receive another text before I put my glass down. Surely it can’t be from Jackson. Quickly, I check my phone again, keeping it semi-hidden inside my purse.

JACKSON: I guarantee it won’t be as big as what I have.

Heat spreads across my face. I keep my head tipped down as I type a reply.

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