Page 52 of The One Timer

“I thought you were getting dessert?”

“I was—I am.”

“What are we having?” His eyes go intense, and his voice is low and raspy, turning the question from innocent to scintillating.

“Strawberry stuffed cheesecake,” I murmur.

“Sounds delicious.” He pauses, and his face moves closer to mine. “Like you.”

I squirm, but I don’t turn away as his lips brush against mine. “We need to get back…”

He straightens and nods, unlocking the door without turning away from me.

“Dessert sounds fancy. Did you make it?”

I nod.

“I didn’t know you were a chef,” he says as we step out of the powder room.

I smile despite the circumstances as I glance around the hall to make sure no one sees us. “Spoken like a man who doesn’t cook. I’m no chef. It’s an easy recipe. But thank you for the compliment.”

“Thank you for putting me in my place.”

We head to the kitchen.

God, he’s right. I sound so self-righteous, and he doesn’t deserve that from me since he’s been nothing but kind and generous. Especially when it comes to pleasing me in—shit. Stop thinking about that night.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

I take out the tray of individual round cheesecakes from the refrigerator. Thank god I made a half dozen since that’s what the recipe called for. He takes the tray from me, and we head back to the dining room.

“No apologies—I enjoy your sass. So why don’t you want to accept Gran’s invitation to the benefit? It’s for a good cause.”

“I’m sure it is, but⁠—”

He shakes his head. “Don’t tell me it’s because you don’t have money to donate or to pay for the ticket because Gran already told you she values your company.” He lowers his voice, “You may not realize it, but this will be the first year that she’s attending without Grandpa, and I think she’s looking for moral support.”

“Oh, God. You’re right. Now I feel like a heel, thinking about myself instead of her.”

I sigh because I feel so inadequate and have no idea how to explain that to this man who has everything going for him.

Except his parents. Same as me. Suck it up, Emery.

“Okay, I’ll go. The only problem is I have nothing to wear to a fancy event.” That’s an understatement. My only dress, stuck in the back of the coat closet, is from my high school graduation.

We arrive with dessert, and Mrs. W and Sheryl are thrilled.

“Gran, Emery has decided to come to the gala after all.”

“I’m so delighted. You’ll see—we’ll have a ball. No pun intended.”

“Wow,” Sheryl says. “Do you already have a dress? It’ll be tough to find one at the last minute.” She looks truly dismayed on my behalf—not nearly as dismayed as I am, though.

“No. I don’t have one…” I’m not sure what else to say because I can’t say that I’m going to run out and buy one. Maybe Merry will have something in her closet—unlikely as it is since she’s four inches shorter than I am.

“If you need a dress, that won’t be a problem at all,” Gran says. “Dress shopping for young ladies is one of my favorite things.” She lights up the mischief on her face. “Especially years ago, when I was the young lady.”

I laugh.