before she reached the doorway.
She hesitated. “Well, I guess I am,” she admitted. She hefted the stool a few inches. “I’ll put this back in the break room.”
“Emily—”
She stopped in her tracks again, realizing that it was the first time he’d actually spoken her name.
She liked it.
“I was thinking we could continue this over dinner.”
Surprise held her still. She liked that idea, too. Probably more than she ought to, since it wasn’t exactly a date. Not that she wanted a date.
He was interesting and attractive and smelled incredible, and if she was interested in having a date with anyone, Max’s name would be at the top of a very short list. But the only dates she had planned in her future were those designed to put a baby in her arms.
It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that mentioning that plan to him would put the kibosh on him wanting to spend anything other than a business dinner with her.
“Um, okay. Sure. Unless you’d rather I just come back another day?”
He was already pushing back from his chair and gathering up the papers strewn over his desk. “Nope.” He stuffed the pages into a folder and opened the top drawer of his desk to pull out a set of keys. “Just leave the stool,” he said.
Feeling a little slow in the face of his sudden motion, she quickly set the stool out of the path of the doorway and grabbed her purse from where she’d left it on top of the filing cabinet that stood beneath the little window.
“Wait here while I lock up the front,” he suggested. “I’ve got more doors to take care of out back.”
In minutes, he returned and led the way back to the classrooms, checking doors and light switches as he went, plunging the hallway into darkness. “Hold on.” His hand reached back when she bumped right into him.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
His hand unerringly found hers. “My fault. Nearly there. Two more doors and we’ll be out of here.”
She opened her mouth and let out a silent breath as she followed behind him. She felt as silly as a schoolgirl with her first crush from nothing more than the heat of his fingers against hers.
Too quickly, he’d finished his rounds and they reached the back door. He let go of her hand as he pushed it open. Light from the lampposts outside flooded over them and she waited while he set the security system and locked up. “Do you have a problem with break-ins?”
“No. But Tanner doesn’t take chances, either.” He pocketed his keys and they walked around the building until they reached the parking area near the front of the office.
Aside from the luxury rental car that she’d had since March, the only other vehicle in the lot was a dark pickup truck.
She stopped at her car. “Shall I drive, or follow you?”
His gaze seemed to hesitate on the Mercedes. “What kind of food do you like?”
“How about Red?” Wendy’s husband, Marcos, managed the popular restaurant.
He nodded and headed toward his truck. “See you there.”
Which answered that, she thought, feeling a little pinch that she knew she had no business feeling. She rummaged through her purse, hunting for her key fob. She finally found it and unlocked the car, aware that Max was already in his truck and waiting. She quickly started the car and drove out of the lot, ridiculously conscious of his headlights in her rearview mirror.
By the time they made it to the restaurant and she found a parking spot in the crowded lot, she had her emotions well in hand again. She could see him driving through the lot, and she went inside to get their names on the waiting list while he hunted for his own parking spot.
“Inside, or the courtyard?” the hostess asked.
Emily peered past the people waiting to be seated. The restaurant was located in a converted hacienda and possessed an open-air courtyard in the center of the building. “Courtyard, please.” The heat of the day had passed, leaving the evening temperature nearly perfect. And there were a few tables still available there.
The girl smiled and made a notation on her list before gathering a pile of menus in her hand and moving off with a well-dressed couple.
Emily went out in front again to wait for Max. He was just crossing the parking lot, his legs eating up the distance. “I requested the courtyard,” she told him when he reached her. “If that’s all right with you.”
“It’s fine.” He nodded toward one of the benches situated outside. “You want to sit?”
She made a face. “Feel like my rear end is still flat from sitting too much already.”
He pinched his earlobe. “Whatever I say to that is probably going to get me into trouble.”
She felt her face go warm again. “I wasn’t hunting for a compliment.”
“I wasn’t trying to look at your rear end all afternoon, either,” his voice was matter-of-fact. “Some things just happen when a woman looks like you.”
Her jaw loosened. She didn’t know what to say to that. So she said nothing, and the silence started to stretch awkwardly.
Max was wishing he could cut off his tongue when the hostess mercifully poked her head out the door and called their name, but the truth was already out there.
He followed Emily through the busy restaurant and couldn’t help but notice that she slipped into one of the chairs at the small table they were shown to in the courtyard so quickly that he didn’t even have an opportunity to pull it out for her. He took the other chair and waited until the hostess handed them their menus and departed again before opening his fool mouth again. “This is a business dinner,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
There was a candle burning in the center of the intimate table and her eyes looked huge and mysterious behind the glasses she wore. “Don’t worry about it.” She unfolded her menu. “Considering my brother-in-law is a manager here, you’d think I’d know the menu inside and out by now but I don’t.” Her voice had that too-bright pitch that told him she was bugged about something.
By his inappropriate comment in the first place, or the fact that he’d apologized for it?
“What do you like here?” she asked, her gaze on her menu.
Her. He liked her.
He held back a sigh and opened his own menu. “Everything’s good. You could close your eyes and point and you wouldn’t be disappointed.”
“Good evening.” A waiter stopped next to their table, and set condensing glasses of water in front of them. “Welcome to Red. Can I start you off with a cocktail?”
“I’d love a margarita,” Emily said. She pulled off her glasses and tucked them in her jacket again. “On the
