Page 29 of The Snowball Effect

They stared at each other for several long moments before Emma let out a deep breath. “I cannot believe I’m saying this…”

Regan felt a buzz of anticipation slide through her, surprisingly potent.

It made sense, she reasoned, because – this wasbonding! This was the dream!

“Regan, will you do me a favor and simply not disagree with the notion that we’re dating while my mom is here?” Emma’s blue eyes searched hers.

In them, Regan found that same rawness from minutes ago. The one that made her take this a little more seriously, as she agreed, “I’ll do you one better, and make her believe without question that I’m besotted.”

She offered Emma her hand to shake.

Emma stared at it before hesitantly sliding her warm, soft hand into Regan’s. “I want it stated on the record that this is the most ludicrous situation I’ve ever gotten into.”

“It’s not for me,” Regan informed her, lightly stroking her thumb over Emma’s as she shook her hand. “But, in what I’m sure is the worst part for you, it’s a situation in which youneed me.”

Emma leaned in closer, then, and Regan felt the tiny hairs on the back stand up with awareness, her shoulders snapping back at Emma’s proximity. They’dneverstood so close; she could feel Emma’s warm breath on her cheek, as she murmured, “Believe it or not, that’s actually not the worst part for me right now. So don’t flatter yourself.”

Emma dropped her hand and stepped back, brushing her hands through her hair as she quickly tied it up in a ponytail.

And Regan stared for a baffled, silent second before she regained normalcy; that was weird. “I’ll do my very best not to flatter myself. But I do have to say that I’m sure your mom might be wondering what we’re getting up to inour bedroom, since we’re taking so much time.” She fluttered her eyelashes, dramatically faux-swooning. “She probably thinks you’re having your way with me this morning. Or, I guess, that I’m having my way with you. Since I came to wake you up and all.”

Emma’s gaze snapped to hers in disgruntled alarm, her cheeks turning pink as Regan laughed in amusement at the idea.

“Let’s go,” Emma directed, walking toward the door.

Regan dropped her swooning act as she diligently followed, still chuckling to herself.

They found Kimberly right where Regan had left her, in the archway that led into the kitchen. She was clutching the bag containing the bagels like it was a lifeline, and the smile that bloomed over her face when she laid eyes on Emma was so exuberant, Regan was sure that it supplemented the sun streaming in through the windows to illuminate the kitchen.

That was kinda sweet.

“There’s my Emma Bo Bemma!” Kimberly dropped her other hand to the top of the paper bagel bag, looking as though she was trying to contain herself. Trying to stop herself from reaching out toward Emma, maybe?

Curiously, Regan shot Emma a side-long look. And she was entirely unsurprised to see how tense Emma was, a tight smile on her mouth. Almost like she didn’t know if she really wanted to smile a little or if it was entirely forced. Her face couldn’t decide.

“Mom. Hey,” Emma greeted, stiltedly, before falling quiet again.

Quiet enough that Regan could start to feel the awkwardness settle into the air, like a heavy, physical presence.

Luckily for Emma, she had Regan. And Regan had never met an awkward silence that she couldn’t dissipate.

She cleared her throat to capture both of their attentions rather than allow them to maintain the awkward eye contact they were making and then quickly dodging with one another. She scooted in close to Emma, in a far more familiar way than she’d ever act around Emma in any other situation.

In every day life, if she bumped her hip into Emma’s before settling in so close that they were touching from hip to ankle, Emma would bite her head off. Probably.

Not this morning, though!

Becauseright now, they were in love.

“I didn’t know I was in a relationship with one of the famous New York City Bo Bemma’s!” She teased, angling her head up at Emma as she bit her bottom lip.

Kimberly laughed at her joke as Emma cut her a look. It was – surprisingly – not annoyed. Regan didn’t think so, anyway.

She arched her eyebrows, darting her eyes to Kimberly and back to Emma’s. “Don’t worry,honey, you’re my favorite Bo Bemma, no matter how many relatives of yours come calling for a visit.”

All right, was Regan milking this?

Maybe a little bit.

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