Billionaire's Single Mom

Chapter Sixteen

LOGAN

The warm shower water cascaded down my body. Sixteen hours on a plane, even an expensive private plane, doesn’t make for the freshest smell. It was nice to be able to stretch and wash up a bit.

We’d both managed to get our separate naps in on the plane, so that helped a little with the jet lag, even though Emily was still wrapping her head around losing a day. Just part of the fun traveling around the world.

I wondered if Emily was in the shower at the moment, letting that water run down her glorious body, tracing the path of her sweet, feminine shape. I sucked in a deep breath, hardening at the thought. Damn, but would that woman be the death of me.

The trip might have been a mistake. I understood that. For all her flirting with me, I still wasn’t sure if she was interested in me the way I was now interested in her. In her mind, she might be having a fun trip to Japan with her billionaire friend.

No matter. We both had our own rooms to help her not feel too much pressure from spending more time together. But without Juniper around, we

had a better chance of something happening, something I wouldn’t regret, something I couldn’t help but look forward to.

In an hour, I was taking her out to dinner. I turned my neck back and forth, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

I let out a laugh. I was more nervous about Emily than about my business deal.

* * *

I knocked lightly on her door, and she opened it with a smile.

“Feeling better?” I said.

“Much. But I’m very hungry.”

“I hope you like sushi.”

Emily laughed, the sound having an almost musical quality to my ears. Or maybe it was just jet lag. “I think they’d run me out of the country if I didn’t.”

We headed down to the lobby. I’d hired a private driver for the entire trip, but I’d chosen a less conspicuous vehicle, a nice Lexus instead of a limousine. It wasn’t as if I wanted to show off by hiring the man, but I wasn’t exactly an expert on driving around Tokyo.

The driver opened the door, and I waited for Emily to slip inside before following her.

I rattled off the address in Japanese. I wasn’t fluent, and I’d made sure to hire a chauffeur who spoke English too, but my experiences in Japan had taught me that showing a little respect for their culture and language went a long way.

Emily sat quietly, drinking in the sights around her, the towering buildings blocking out the very sun, the surge of controlled humanity, waiting their turn at crosswalks and flowing together when it was their time.

There’s a difference between living in a big city and seeing a metropolis. I loved Nashville, but it was only a big city. Tokyo was like some sort of shrine to urban living. Still, something about the flavor of the city stopped it from oppressing me in the way I’d felt in some huge cities like New York.

I didn’t know what it was. I was just glad to be able to share the experience with Emily.

A ten-minute drive later, my driver let us out in a densely-packed commercial center. I helped Emily out of the car.

“I’ll call you when we’re ready,” I told the driver.

He nodded and drove off.

I opened the door and waved Emily in. She stepped inside, and I followed.

The chef moved from behind the counter to shout, “Irasshaimase!”

I offered the chef a nod before sitting on a stool in front of the counter. Emily sat beside me.

“Hawkins-sama?” the chef said, furrowing his brow. “Is that you?” It took me a second to adjust to his accent.

I nodded and grinned. “Konnichiwa, Sato-san.”