Page 43 of That One Night
It gave her the smallest sense of satisfaction to see those ridiculously high heels get caught in a dried up divot of mud, making the blonde stumble.
But before she could even relish in it, the door to Hendrix’s cottage opened and the man himself was standing in the frame, the glow of his living room light behind him. There was a smile pulling at his lips as he said something to the blonde who giggled.
And then threw herself into his arms.
Emery’s stomach twisted. And she knew she didn’t have any reason to feel jealous. If he wanted to entertain young, blonde women in the middle of the night, he had every right to. Just because he was helping her with her list, it didn’t mean he owed her any kind of loyalty.
He also had every right to expect she wouldn’t be spying on him, yet she couldn’t look away.
The blonde pulled back from him, saying something that made him laugh. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, closing the door so that Emery couldn’t see what they were doing anymore.
Which was a good thing. A really good thing. She shouldn’t care. He was single, unattached. He didn’t owe her any explanations, and he absolutely didn’t owe her any loyalty.
But it still felt like a knife in the gut as she let the corner of the curtain drop, and walked back to bed, her heart feeling heavy.
Pulling the covers back over her, she stared up at the ceiling, at the cracks in the white paint, her eyes wide open. If she thought about it hard enough, maybe this would be a good thing.
It was obvious she had a crush on the man. One she shouldn’t have, not just because everybody thought she was engaged, but because her life was a mess. She had no relationship, no home, and until she managed to figure out how to clear her mom’s debts, she had no way of untangling herself from the man she hated.
Hendrix was with somebody. Whether it was casual or serious, it didn’t matter.
He was just trying to be her friend. It wasn’t his fault that she’d read more into it.
It was fine. Tomorrow was another day. The sun would rise, the world would wake up.
And somehow, she’d find a way to stop having feelings for Hendrix Hartson.
Chapter
Twelve
The red carwas still in his driveway the next morning.
Not that Emery was looking. Okay, she totally was. She’d lain awake half the night listening for the rumble of the engine as it left, but there had only been silence.
Whoever it was, he clearly wanted them to stay the night. Which meant it wasn’t just a booty call.
“Stop it,” she muttered to herself, as she pulled on a pair of cutoffs and a t-shirt, because the sun was already beating in through the crack in her curtains. It was obviously going to be another hot one.
“Honey, can you fetch the eggs?” her mom asked as she walked down the stairs. “I need to make some cakes for tonight.”
“What’s happening tonight?” Emery asked her.
“Chairs,” her mom reminded her.
“Chairs still happens?” Emery’s eyes widened. She’d forgotten all about the spring and summer ritual the townsfolk of Hartson’s Creek had. They’d meet in grassy field by the creek in the center of town every Friday evening, for gossip and cake. Everybody brought their own lawn chairs – hence the name –and whether you were a man, a woman, or a child, you’d meet friends there to talk or play with.
“Of course it does. I just haven’t been feeling up to it for a while.” Her eyes met Emery’s and she knew her mom was talking about her losing her dad. “But a few of the women from the stitching club are going. Asked me if I’d join them.”
“That’s nice.” It really was. As much as her mom drove her wild, it was good to see her getting out again. Maybe coming home had been a good idea, after all.
“You could come, too, if you’d like.” Her mom suggested. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, no. You go spend some time with your friends. You’ll be able to enjoy yourself a lot more without me there.” Before her mom could try to persuade her, Emery grabbed her shoes. “I’ll go get those eggs now.”
Just as she expected, it was already hot outside. The kind of blue-skied day that made you forget that storms existed. She felt the heat of the morning sun on her face as she walked down the porch steps to make a left to head to the chicken coop where hopefully there were enough eggs to keep her mom distracted for a while.
“You recovered from last night?”
