Page 70 of The Emerson Effect
“My friends are going to love you,” she says, then seems to catch herself. “And, uh, if you want to invite your friends down sometimes, I have room.”
“Sounds good. They’re going to love you, too,” I say, my tone low and laced with velvet.
“So, does tomorrow work?” she asks after clearing her throat.
I nod. “Yep. I can be there in the morning.”
“Good.”
“Perfect,” I say.
“Stupendous,” she adds.
“Astonishing,” I say with the beginnings of a grin, and she smiles widely at me.
“Fantabulous.”
THIRTY-NINE
Twila
It’s late Sunday afternoon by the time I pull into my driveway, and in a surprise to no one, the girls are waiting for me on my front porch. I blow out a long breath. I guess they didn’t trust me when I said I’d call them as soon as I got home so they could come over and administer the third degree.
About my husband.
Jesus.It sounds weird even when I just think the word.
They’re already rushing toward me as I pop open the door and climb out. With no words of censure or smart-assed comments, they wrap me in a group hug that has my eyes stinging with tears. God, why am I crying? And why is Joey petting my hair like I’m grieving for a lost loved one?
“Come on, let’s go inside,” Callie says gently, the first to disengage from the embrace. “We brought donuts, and the ice cream is melting.”
“Donutsandice cream?” I ask with a teary laugh as the rest of us break apart.
“It’s not every day one of your besties goes to Vegas with her fake boyfriend, gets wasted, and ends up married to a man she barely knows. So, yes. Donutsandice cream,” she says, and a laugh barks out of me.
“It really is ridiculous, isn’t it?” I ask as Raven pulls my suitcase from the backseat, and we head toward the house.
“Like something straight out of a romcom movie,” Joey says on a sigh, and I give her a sharp look.
“I don’t think this situation is going to end like one of your movies, Jo.”
She shrugs and shoots me a grin like she knows something I don’t. I shake my head at her, then use my keys to unlock the door, leading the way inside. Raven leaves my bag by the door with a grumble about refusing to lug it upstairs for me, and we all head into the kitchen. Callie pops the ice cream into the freezer while Joey puts on a pot of coffee. Raven opens the donuts, pulls out a chocolate-glazed, and takes a huge bite, humming in pleasure as she chews.
Once the coffee is done, we sit around my table with hot mugs and sweet treats while I tell them about my weekend from the beginning. Seeing Emerson for the first time. The two-room suite. Stuff I already texted them, but feel the need to retell so they can grab the context.
When I get to the part about our first kiss on that dancefloor, Joey sighs like it’s the most romantic thing she’s ever heard. When I retell the events that happened after, back in our room when Emerson said goodnight, and I went to bed, alone, she grunts in disappointment.
“So, wait,” Raven says, holding up a hand. “We like him, now? I mean, obviously we do, since you made out with him in what doesn’t feel like a show for your many adoring fans.”
“We like him,” I admit softly, and her eyebrows shoot up. Before anyone can start throwing a barrage of questions my way,I hold up a hand. “Just let me get it all out before you start the inquisition, okay?”
I shoot them each a pointed look as I take a sip of my coffee, which Joey assured me is, thankfully, decaf. I’m going to have a hard enough time sleeping tonight, as it is.
“So, the next morning,” I say slowly, “I was sure he regretted kissing me. He seemed…off. So after breakfast, he tells mewe need to talk.”
“Uh-oh,” Callie whispers.
“Exactly,” I say, then can’t stop my lips from tugging upward. “I immediately apologized for coming onto him, and he looked…stricken. He begged me not to be sorry. That he wanted it. That he likes me. Hewantsme.”
