Okay, here's the water works. I smile at her through tear soaked eyes, and then we are hugging each other. She cradles me to her chest, stroking my hair.
"You are a marvel, Emily Burnham," she says softly.
I pull away from her. "You're my role model, Danny. Always."
The evening ends on a high note. Danny breaks out the wine to celebrate but because she's pregnant, I'm the only one drinking. I get a little bit drunk and Danny insists I stay the night.
We start in on the baby names again, and I throw out, "What do you think about Nix?"
"Nix?" she says, gently letting it roll off her tongue. "For a girl or a boy?"
I shrug my shoulders. "I suppose it could be both, but if your kid is a boy, then Nix will stand for ass**le for sure."
"What in the world are you talking about?" she asks.
I shrug my shoulders again and don't answer. I don't want to think about the amazingly perfect looking man I ran over today who turned out to be a world-class jerk. I'd rather keep my fantasies of him on the pleasurable side.
CHAPTER 5
Nix
I pop the top off my beer and lean up against the wall. I'm watching the party in progress, always comfortable to observe and never to be drawn into conversation. I've always been, by nature, a quiet and introspective person. My time in the Marine Corps, doing deep reconnaissance missions for MARSOC had taught me well the virtues of patience and silence. Some of my time in Afghanistan had been sitting in the frigid mountains, watching the Taliban movement below and reporting it to Command. I could sit for hours at a time and stare at a single spot if I had to. And I had no problems being quiet about it. It was, after all, my nature.
It's not that large, noisy crowds bother me. I like a good party as much as the next guy. As long as I can sit back, drink my beer and observe. And not be bothered. I'm just not overly fond of people in general.
Tonight, my brother Linc has gone all out and thrown a whopper of a party. Almost his entire hockey team is here, along with a slew of beautiful women. Linc never has a hard time coming up with a throng of ladies to ogle. They are basically hockey groupies, accepting the invite with the hope of getting laid and possibly landing themselves a hockey husband. But the ratio of single Rangers to the hungry ladies is vastly disproportionate and I will be able to take one of them to bed if I want.
For now, though, I'm just watching.
Finishing off my beer, I head into the kitchen and throw the empty in the recycle bin. I pull a new beer out of the refrigerator and twist the cap off. I feel like getting shit faced tonight for some reason.
Walking back into the living room, I resume my perch against the wall. Harley is mingling with the crowd. That dog will do anything for a scratch or soft word. And he is so f**king cute, he always gets it. I often wonder if there is something wrong with the fact that I like dogs more than I do people. All I know...Harley has never let me down.
"Having a good time, bro?"
I look over my shoulder and see Linc standing there, holding his typical glass of Scotch. I give him a nod and hold my beer up in acknowledgment.
"Well, it's going to get better tonight. See those two women over there..."
I look to where he's pointing. Sitting on the couch are two ladies that are ferociously gorgeous. They're both wearing tight, short dresses and sky-high heels. I can tell at a glance that both have put copious amounts of money into breast enhancement.
Who says my observational skills in the Corps were wasted?
"Nice," I reply. And I mean it.
"They're for us...tonight ...after everyone leaves."
Of course, they are. Linc always looks out for me in that department. He thinks I have no clue how to talk to a woman or get one in bed. He takes my silence and unwillingness to engage people as an inability to get laid. I hate to break it to him, but it's not that hard. There are plenty of women out there who appreciate straight, simple talk without the need to spout poetry at them.
But I don't want to hurt his feelings so I just smile at him and say, "You rock, man."
Linc ambles off and heads straight over to the two women. He plops himself on the couch in between them and I watch as they fawn all over my little brother.
What a player!
I glance around and notice the front door open. More partygoers coming in. I recognize one of Linc's good friends, Ryan Burnham walking in, along with his wife, Danny. Now that is one cool chick. Linc told me she was a graduate of Julliard but she rocks some awesome dyed hair and face metal. So not what I picture a hockey wife and classical musician to look like.
And walking in just behind Danny...
My breath freezes and my bottle of beer stops halfway to my mouth. It's Emily. The girl that ran me over last week.
What the hell is she doing here?
As mad as I was at her last week, I've spent the last several days remembering how beautiful she is. And I see my memory serves me still. Her long hair shimmers like melted dark chocolate and her eyes are the lightest, warmest brown I've ever seen. They look like amber swirled with copper.
The whole incident with Emily was baffling to me. I was f**king pissed that she ran my motorcycle over and part of me wanted to strangle her. And yet, by the end of our meeting, she had convinced me to let her make payments for the damages. I still can’t fathom why I agreed to it. Nix Caldwell doesn’t cut anyone slack.
I watch in disbelief as Harley barrels through the crowd and jumps up on her. I start to move forward to pull him off but she just grabs him in a big hug and buries her face in his neck.