A Christmas Proposition. Jessica Lemmon

      “Do it for Chase if you can’t do it for me.” Hurt flooded her eyes.

      Did she really believe he found her so unsavory? Emmett wouldn’t stoop to defend himself aloud, but his thoughts went there. He was doing this for her. So that she could come out here to...do whatever she was doing.

      “You owe me the truth,” he reminded her. But when she took a breath, presumably to tell him, he held up a hand. “Not here, though. I’m hungry.”

      Stefanie had never set foot inside a Chili’s restaurant until today. It wasn’t that she was too good for a burger and fries; it was that there wasn’t much of an opportunity to go to a chain when there were hundreds of other unique restaurants to choose from. Any man she’d dated had endeavored to impress her with meals that had cost hundreds of dollars.

      Emmett didn’t apologize for choosing a restaurant that had nary a word of French on the menu. She appreciated being treated as an equal and not catered to like some spoiled rich girl. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was stubborn or because he knew her better than anyone else, but the latter seemed impossible. They barely knew each other at all.

      Once they were settled in with their drinks—wine for her and beer for him—and a bowl of warm tortilla chips and a dish of salsa, Emmett gestured with a chip for her to speak. “Go.”