“That was great.” Melanie held out her water bottle as she walked off the stage. “She is so funny.” She led the way toward the small studio green room.
Emmy Lou nodded. “What’s next on the agenda?”
“Lunch?” It was Brock.
She turned, doing her best not to act like her heart wasn’t totally picking up speed over his dimples and smile and blue eyes.
“You are scheduled to have lunch now—with your brother and sister,” Melanie announced. “I can call ahead and add another person to the reservation.”
Emmy Lou glanced at her assistant in shock. “No.”
“Em.” Brock’s voice lowered.
“I… I have a phone call to make.” Melanie left, closing the door behind her.
“You’ve totally flustered Melanie.” Emmy tried not to stare at him. Tried not to picture throwing her arms around him and kissing him senseless.
“She’s not the one I’m trying to fluster.” He stepped forward. “I am sorry. He put his hand on you—you pulled away. It went all over me the wrong way and I reacted. Actually, I didn’t. But I thought about it.” He took another step forward. “Mad at me?”
Was she? “No.” She shook her head, closing the distance between them in three steps. “No, I’m not.” She sighed when he wrapped her up in his arms. “It’s been a weird morning.”
“It was pretty good for me.” She could feel his breath on the top of her head. “I knew I was seeing you.”
She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. “Brock Watson. Will you have lunch with me? And my sister, her boyfriend, and my way obnoxious brother?” She paused. “Also, my bodyguard, who has a serious ax to grind with you, and my assistant, who might be crushing on you.”
“I can deal with your family.” His kiss was soft. “Whatever problem Sawyer has with me is his problem.” Another kiss. “Melanie? Nice to know. If things don’t work out with us, I have other options.”
She pulled away from him. “Us? Is there an us?”
“I’m hoping there is.” His brows rose. “If you’re willing to try?”
Her pulse was in full gallop now. She was willing. More than willing. This is what she wanted. And exactly what her mother, bodyguard, and sister were worried about. “How do you feel about keeping things in stealth mode for now? I mean the real us—not the Bremmy thing.”
“I’m in favor.” He smiled, another kiss. “Stealth it is.”
She leaned into his hand, against her cheek. “You can keep your hands and lips to yourself?”
“In public?” he asked, pressing a series of kisses along her neck. “Yes. When it’s just the two of us?” He cradled her face in his hands. “Hell no.”
* * *
Brock lit the candles, straightened the large silver bowl full of strawberries he’d ordered from room service, and made sure the bottle of champagne was mostly submerged in the ice. He didn’t like strawberries and he couldn’t drink champagne, but if it made her happy, he was happy.
He’d enjoyed exploring San Francisco with her. Sawyer continued to scowl like an asshole most of the day, but Travis lightened the mood with his constant teasing and wisecracks.
There was a knock on the door.
Emmy Lou.
He turned off the overhead lights and pulled the door open.
“Brock.” CiCi King was the last person he’d expected to see. Ever. “Can I come in? This won’t take long.” She didn’t wait for an answer.
Fucking great.
“Expecting company?” CiCi asked, her smile tight and brittle.
He turned on the overhead lights. “What can I do for you, Mrs. King?”