Page 23 of Beg, Borrow, or Steal

I don’t just take her hand, though. I accidentally take itgently.Tenderly. The wordreverenteven crosses my mind. My hand and body are holding on to Emily in a manner that looks and feelsworshipful. And an awareness I’ve never known before snaps into place: I have more respect for Emily than I’ve ever had for any other person.What do I do with that?

She feels it in my touch and freezes completely before swinging her gaze to where my fingers are intertwined with hers.

“Don’t go back there,” I say quietly. “Please.”

For three torturous seconds when I wonder if I’ve just handed her ammunition on a silver platter, I study her green eyes. The large freckle at the base of her throat. Her collarbones rising and falling with every breath coming as quickly as my own.

And then she swallows, pivots to face me, and pulls her hand free. She raises it and for a brief second, I wonder if she’s going to slap me. Her index finger taps the rim of my glasses instead. “Are these real?”

I huff a laugh. “Of course they’re real. Why would I wear fake glasses?”

“So when you came back to town you’d look more intelligent than me.”

“I don’t have to wear glasses for that to be true.”

A thrill twists around my ribs as Emily’s hand once again rises, but this time to softly pull the glasses off my face. She tries them on—and although my vision is blurry, I still catch her grimace as she verifies that the lenses are prescription.

Emily holds on to my glasses a beat longer. Her face is still angled up at mine and I wonder if she’s using this opportunity to study me. The back of her hand grazes my bare chest in a touch like a bolt of electricity. It takes me a second to realize she’s signaling for me to take my glasses back from her.

“I’ve never seen you wear them before,” she says, returning to focus as I replace my frames to my face. I see her with 20/20 vision…and the question she’s tiptoeing around too.

“Contacts are easier.”

“Nope. What’s the truth?”

I bite my smile. “You’re a relentless pain in the ass.”

“Thank you.”

I draw in a long breath. “Zoe thought I looked dorky in glasses, so I stuck to contacts. It’s really not some big thing. Happy?”

Her face is a study in expression. Open and intrigued and then a steep slope into angry and protective. “No. That answer makes me very unhappy actually. A partner should never make you feel insecure about your glasses. Especially since you look so…”

The energy in the room is all off. It’s taut. It’s charged. It’s waiting for something.

“Fine. You look fine in them.” She passes me and heads for the door—mercifully never looking back at my room. I should let her go so we can get back to normal as quickly as possible. Put this upside-down night behind us.

“Emily,” I say, just before she makes it to the front door. “Before you go, I want to give you something.”

I once again close the gap between us—though leaving it wider than before—and pull something out of my pocket. I take her hand in mine and she watches hesitantly as I turn her palm face up and then drop my present inside.

“Ear plugs,” she scoffs.

I smile and step away to open the front door for her. “You’re going to need those, because I’m going to be in here keeping you up every night this summer while I create the best damn house you’ve ever seen.”

Even though a vicious smile curls her lips, I notice her shoulders sag with relief. She’s glad to have the status quo restored too.

“Jackson, I hope you get a really big splinter under your nail bed,” she says before her cowboy boots carry her back home where she no doubt falls asleep to the thought of running me over with her truck.

May 31

Jack (8:45 AM):I found a breakfast casserole outside my door this morning. You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?

Emily (8:47 AM):I didn’t give you permission to text me.

Emily (8:48 AM):And I have no idea what you’re talking about. What’s a casserole?

Jack (8:49 AM):I saw you running away from the window after dropping it off.

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