He doesn’t move, and the warmth rolls off his body, surrounding us. My hands hang loosely at my side but twitch to grasp onto him for support.
“I want to take you out, Emi, tomorrow night.”
I start to nod until the bells start ringing in my head, reminding me of Jean. “I can’t.”
Disappointment flashes across his face.
“I mean, I can’t tomorrow night,” I rush to explain.
“Sunday,” he declares with no question.
“Sunday,” I confirm.
We stand, staring at each other with the heat building between us. He breaks the spell by hitching his hand to my hip and squeezing lightly.
“Go to the bathroom, Sweet Emi. I’ll be here when you get out.” He gently urges me away from the wall and pushes me toward the door.
I walk in dazedly, my head spinning. Thankfully, the room is empty and I can collapse partially on the vanity and try to gather my thoughts. After an acceptable amount of time, when I think I have my wits, I wash my hands and walk out. He’s waiting for me, leaning against the opposite wall with his arms and legs crossed, eyes on the door.
Without a word, he takes my hand and leads me back to our group. Every head turns to us, eyes wide. My girlfriends look on curiously, Marcus with a shit-eating grin.
We sit in the open seat, him scooting close and draping an arm around me. I square my shoulders and try to act normal, grabbing my drink from the table. The calm façade vanishes the instant Walker reaches in his pocket and hands a hundred-dollar bill directly to Maren.
“I believe you won a bet,” he says confidently.
She lets out a high-pitched hoot and falls back in her seat, waving the money in the air. Everyone joins in the glee, even Walker, his dimple wide.
Oh Boy.
“How am I supposed to dress you if he didn’t tell you where he’s taking you?” Maren moans in frustration.
“Let’s go with black. Black is always good. We’ll spice it up with some color in the shoes and accessories so I don’t look like I’m going to a funeral.”
“Okay, I can get on board with black.”
“I still want to know how he knew about the bet. It doesn’t make sense.” I squint at her and see her brows furrowed and lips pursed. “Maren, what aren’t you telling me?”
“It was the bartender. When you two disappeared for your bathroom break, she came over to Marcus. He thanked her for the information and gave her a hefty tip.”
“How did she know?” Then the answer slams into me. She was making our drinks at the exact time Maren mentioned it to Nina and Rachel. That explains why she referred to him as Detective when we were leaving the bar.
“Oh my God, how embarrassing.” I bang my head on the headrest.
“Nothing embarrassing about it. He was there for you, Emi. Marcus told us that. I think it’s sexy.”
“Do you think he asked me out because—”
“Shut your trap! Don’t say it. He was a man on a mission.”
“But why? He doesn’t even know me.”
“Maybe because you’re gorgeous, funny, sweet, blah-blah. Nina said he was interested.”
“No, Nina said he could ‘handle’ me.”
“What’s wrong with that? No woman in her right mind would be swayed by being handled by a man like Walker. I bet it’s scorching hot.”
She’s right about that. Since leaving the bar last night, I’ve been on a high. Walker insisted on walking Maren and I to her car, his hand on my back the whole time. He kissed me briefly on the cheek before promising to call me tomorrow to firm up our plans.