She was going to kill Mary Margaret.
It's one thing being set up on a blind date. Emma had suffered through enough of those; her sister-in-law kindly believes that there's a soulmate out there for everyone, and the way to find them is through chance encounters. Emma gets plenty of chance encounters. Nothing like being a bail bondswoman to introduce you to a lot of men.
(She had pointed that out to Mary Margaret the day before. Her sister-in-law had frowned, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Yes, you definitely want to spend the rest of your life with a criminal who you caught while wearing four-inch stilettos. No, you're going out to dinner with a friend of a friend of a friend that I heard was recently single. Tomorrow night. At seven. Be prepared." She had then kissed Emma on the cheek, pushed her toward the couch, and had left Emma's apartment without so much as a chipper "bye!")
It's quite another thing being stood up on a blind date.
She'd been waiting at the table for an hour, the waiter and the nearby customers starting to look a bit concerned. Two couples leaving had whispered, "He'll show up, dear, don't worry," and she had managed a smile and nod for both of them.
Really, she didn't care if the mysterious Walsh showed up at all. (That was actually all she knew about him, that his name was Walsh and that he had brown hair.) After a while, she was going to order the crab cakes and probably get a free meal, if not dessert as well, and she'd be fine. Mary Margaret would probably give up on setting Emma up on dates if she knew that her most recent He's a great guy! You two are really going to hit it off! had turned out to be a complete arse who abandoned nice girls at restaurants.
But again, Emma didn't care. She had no interest in meeting new guys, or getting into a relationship, or starting a family, or finding her one true love; she was interested in free food. She was just about to signal the sympathetic waiter with the clearly impressive musculature under the white button-down to bring her a menu when she heard, "Oh, I'm so sorry I'm late, love" next to her ear.
She was startled enough that she could accept the kiss the mystery man left on her cheek without punching him. Then he sat down across from her and smiled.
Well, at least he was attractive. Brown hair that approached black, well-trimmed beard, nice suit, and dancing blue eyes that she swore for a moment saw into her soul – then she stopped herself. Her life was not a rom-com.
"Walsh?" she had to ask. Somehow she doubted this was the he has light brown hair, brown eyes, and no beard last time my friend saw him she was waiting for.
"Nope," the man said under his breath with a disarming grin. "Just go with it." Before she could kick him where the sun don't shine and make a run for it, he signaled for the waiter. "I'll take a water, and the lady would like—"
He motioned for her to speak and she repeated "water" and added "with lemon" without thinking.
The man glanced down at the menu for a second and ordered the crab cakes, which she seconded. The waiter left with a grin to Emma, and the elderly couple nearby fairly beamed.
"I'm Killian Jones," the man said. "And you are?"
"Emma," she said. "Why are you here?"
Killian grinned and leaned back in his chair as the waiter set the water before him. After the waiter left, he said, "Every so often I pick out a fancy restaurant and wait on the lovely Evangeline to join me. When she never shows, I get a free dinner. Purely entertainment, love. And why are you here at this no-doubt excellent establishment here this evening?"
"Blind date," she bit out. "Why did you sit down with me instead of waiting for your imaginary date elsewhere?"
Killian leaned forward and his bangs fell over his forehead a bit more, making him look yet more attractive. His eyes shone and she had to remember her resolution to not let the evening become a soap opera. "Saw you sitting alone, and a quick conversation with a sympathetic couple leaving the establishment let me know that you've been waiting for an hour. They wish us the best, by the way."
"You told them I'd been waiting for you?"
"I told them my horrible boss had kept me an hour late, which is true, and that my phone was dead, which is also true." He waved an outdated iPhone at her. "I may be a bit of a dashing rapscallion, but I'm an honest man. Except for Evangeline. Strictly fictional, that one."
Emma rolled her eyes. Then the crab cakes arrived, somewhat more burnt-looking than in the pictures on the menu, but still pretty good. Of course, that could have been because she was absolutely starving. They took a bite in unison.
"So, where do you hail from, Emma?" he asked, dipping his next bite in the lemony sauce.
"New York City, New York," Emma replied. "You?"
"London, England, United Kingdom. Who were you waiting for?"
Emma sighed. "Walsh. My sister-in-law was trying to set us up. How long have you been waiting for Evangeline?"
"Several years now, love." Killian's eyes laughed and her heart jumped.
They talked for an hour and a half without stopping except for more savory bites of the meal. They talked about their jobs and neither had realized that the other job still really existed—Killian said that bounty hunters were altogether too Star Wars-like, and Emma said that harbormasters had become extinct in the 1800s. Emma told him about David and Mary Margaret, and Killian mentioned his brother Liam. Emma realized why they'd been so quickly drawn to each other—they were a lost boy and a lost girl, as one of the social workers had once phrased the situation.
If this were a real date, Emma would have been slightly more excited than terrified about the future. She would have invited him back to her apartment for a drink, and she would have kissed him. He was incredibly hot, after all.
They finished their meals and Emma took another sip of water. She glanced at the dessert menu again. "I still wish we could get that cheesecake," she mused.
Killian's eyes suddenly shone a brighter blue. "I have an idea as to how we can still get that free dessert. Probably won't get us the meal, but the dessert is nearly certain, and wine if we're lucky."
"I'm all for that," Emma said, not even trying to hide her smile.
Killian reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain, upon which sat a silver ring. He unclasped the necklace and pulled the ring off, and Emma understood his plan. Suddenly she couldn't decide whether to laugh or run away.
They both glanced around the room without speaking, making sure there were enough people looking. Killian stood slowly, the ring resting on his palm. Just as their waiter stepped around the corner, the man knelt down before her.
His eyes danced as he held up the ring between his thumb and pointer finger. "Emma, we haven't known each other very long, but the moment I saw you I knew we were meant to be together. You're an open book to me even if we don't know the minutiae about each other, and that's okay. Would you do me the great honor of marrying me?"
Emma stared down at him for a few seconds in a bit of a panic—he'd known exactly what to say, he'd made it poetic and romantic, it was nearly a real proposal—then remembered the game. She clasped her hands together and let a few tears escape her eyes. "Oh, Killian, yes! A thousand times yes!"
The restaurant applauded. A grin broke out across Killian's face, and he took her hand to slide the ring on. He stood and pulled her up with him, and he kissed her rapidly, just long enough to feel the smile on his lips and taste the laughter in his breath.
The waiter approached as they were sitting back down and asked for their dessert and wine order on the house. Emma pointed at the picture of the cheesecake and Killian glanced through the wines before ordering white.
As they ate the absolutely delicious cheesecake, random couples approached them. "Let's count how many 'congratulations' we get," Emma said, leaning across the table right before the first duo got to them.
"Congratulations!"
"Congratulations, you two."
"Proud of you, son." This was a well-meaning older couple. "I'm sure you two will be very happy."
"That was so beautiful! I literally cried! I was looking at you during the meal and I just shipped you two so hard! I'm so glad I got to see you!"
As that young lady left, Killian said under his breath, "I put her at fifteen, you?" He sipped the wine, which was excellent.
"Second that. Was she actually crying?" Emma sighed as she took the last bite of cheesecake. "Only two congratulations so far. These people are rude." Killian laughed as they got five more 'congratulations' over the next ten minutes.
The waiter eventually brought the check, and they reached for it at the same time. "Let me have it," Emma complained, tugging on the edge of the paper. "It was my table first."
"No, Emma, my sweetest love, as your newly branded fiancé, I must insist. Let me be gentlemanly." He removed the check from her grasp deftly and paid elegantly, with a compliment toward the waiter when he returned to take the receipt away.
They exited the restaurant that had, to the manager's point of view, just changed their lives forever.
Killian laughed once they were out of hearing of the restaurant. "Well, Emma, that was an absolutely lovely evening. I've never had so much fun or success waiting for Evangeline as I have had tonight." His eyes sparkled.
Emma looked down at the ring and twisted it on her finger. It was silver, with a small red gem in the middle. It was worn on the inside and perfectly polished on the outside. Somehow she knew, without having to ask, that it had been his brother's ring. That was what made her decide. She gathered every last piece of her courage. "Would you like to come back to my apartment for a drink?" she asked in one breath.
Killian glanced at her. His eyes softened as he took her left hand. "I would like that," he said, pulling her hand up to his mouth to kiss it. His thumb brushed the ring and he didn't attempt to take it off.
She meant to wait until they were at the apartment before kissing him. The taxi driver got an eyeful. She didn't care, because Killian was moving his hands up her sides and kissing her and whispering "You're so beautiful" all at once.
When Mary Margaret checked on her in the morning, she stepped into the apartment to find Emma sitting on her counter with a silver ring on her finger and a shirtless man in front of her flipping pancakes. Killian turned around to look at the intruder and laughed when he saw Mary Margaret's expression.
She managed to say "You're—not—" before stepping back against the door.
Emma jumped down off the counter and took Killian's hand. "Mary Margaret, this is my fiancé, Killian Jones."
As Mary Margaret sputtered and Emma laughed, Killian kissed her hair and leaned his head against hers. Right then, she knew that the blind date had somehow been a good idea.