Emmeline's cheeks were still flushed fromthe blush but as she laughed at his antics, they seemed to flush more. Along with watered eyes again, she couldn't help the crinkling of her nose while wiping her eyes and laughing more. She happily accepted the drink and finished it but promptly decided it was the last. Four had been too many before so maybe three would be her lucky number.

But then things took a turn and he was so close she could smell ever scent he had. From the rum on his breath to the hint of cologne or whatever it might be he wore as well as the salty tang of sweat. It was intoxicating and she found herself blushing even more.

"It's your fault," she ended up saying after he'd coughed and stepped away. Whether she was talking about the blushing or the pouting, she didn't say. And thenshe found herself wondering if she should have a fourth after all.

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