Page 11 of The Hardest Part

“She texts me too, you know.”

“Yeah, but I also know how good you are at forgettin’ to turn your phone back on.” He plopped his ass down on the bed. “Just lookin’ out for you.”

“Appreciated.” Smiling to himself, Jake buttoned up his shirt. “Want to go over to the site with me tomorrow?”

Billy grinned up at him. “Sure do.”

“I just want to set out some stakes. Get a feel for where we want to put the house come spring.”

A home of their own. For Emily. And he and his brother were going to build it.

“I wish we didn’t have to wait ’til then.”

“Me, neither.” Tucking in his shirt, Jake let out a loud breath. Sometimes, it seemed like waiting was all they ever did. “But we’d never get the framing up before it snows.”

“We’re supposed to get some flurries tomorrow.” Impeccably dressed as always, their father, Justin, appeared in the doorway,a mischievous grin on his face. “Your mother asked me to come for you.”

The Gantry family dynamics differed from most. Their father’s husband and their mother’s brother, Justin Sawyer was their uncle biologically, but he was as much a dad to them as Victor. And more like a mom than their mother was. He was the one who got them ready for school, helped them with homework, and tucked them in at night with a bedtime story.

“Well, what she actually said was, it would be rude if you weren’t downstairs when Emily and Mrs. Keough arrived.” With a click of his tongue, his hand swirled through the air. “Appearances. You know how she is.”

Jake exchanged a glance with his brother. Oh, they knew.

Carrie Sawyer Gantry needn’t have worried.

Her hair half up, Emily looked so beautiful. Rich, deep hues of red and brown framed her features, with long, loose curls flowing down her back. His fingers itched to pull the clip from her hair and run them through the silky strands while he kissed her senseless. But Jake itched to do so many things he couldn’t. Instead, inhaling her wildflower scent, his lips brushed across her cheek. He let them linger there a moment as he brought her in for a hug. It was the most he could do right then.

Emily sat between them at the dining room table, he on her right and Billy to her left. While her mother complimented his on the herb-crusted sirloin medallions, the pearl onion red wine sauce, and garlic mashed potatoes, only to learn it was Justin who deserved all the accolades, Jake allowed his palm to rest upon her thigh. Fingertips unfurling over the smooth fabric of her skirt, he imagined the warmth of her flesh beneath it.

“Matthew did it then?” Carrie asked Kimberly, dabbing a napkin at her lips. “He married her?”

“They’re going to have a baby.”

“That’s no reason to get—”

“Carrie.” Across the table, Victor’s golden eyes widened, his tone a warning.

“My brother loves Jennifer. He told me so, and that’s reason enough.”

“But…”

“Carrie.” His father glared at his wife, then turning to Emily’s mother, his features softened. “Matt is my dearest friend. You know that, Kimberly. I want nothing but love and happiness for him. He deserves it after everything he’s gone through, as do you.”

Jake squeezed Emily’s knee beneath the table. Victor’s gaze may have lingered on his future daughter-in-law’s mother just a bit too long.

“We have our children’s wedding to talk about, now, don’t we?” Clearing her throat, Carrie changed the subject. “Let’s go have some coffee. What did you make us for dessert, brother dearest?”

“Cheesecake, sister dearest,” he said, rising from his chair. Winking at Emily’s mom, he offered her a hand. “Trust me when I say, Mrs. Keough—”

“Kim.”

“All right, then.” Justin’s tongue swiped across his lip and he smiled, his somewhat effeminate voice just above a whisper. “It’s almost better than sex.”

On the way to the family room, or the parlor, as his mom liked to call it, Jake clasped Emily’s hand in his while his brother held on to the other. He noticed the drop in her shoulders, her neck tipping back as she studied Justin’s paintings and the photos of them as children displayed on the walls, a tender smile lighting her face as if she’d never seen them before. She had. Countless times.

“I’m only gonna insist on one thing.” Billy paused, tugging on her arm. “We get hitched on the very first Saturday after I turn eighteen. Ain’t waitin’ longer than I have to.”

“Nope, not Saturday. Wednesday is the luckiest day for a wedding.”

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