by Amelia Shea
Bogs shuddered, his face looked horrified. “And have weather girl and baker girl all over my ass? No, thank you.” He snorted. “Besides, those two are so pussy whipped over their women they wouldn’t go. Looks like I’m in need of a new wingman.”
“Are you asking me?” Ethan sipped his wine and winced at the thought of being on a double date with Bogs. His choice in women was interesting. Interesting in the way a train wreck captivates someone.
“Why would I? After what I saw on that patio?” He scoffed. “The question isn’t if you get with Em, it’s when? And here’s some brotherly advice. Don’t fuck this up, E. You want in with her, you make sure you are all in.”
He hadn’t given any thought to anyone seeing them outside. All he cared about was Emory and her lips and body against him. Ethan was always reserved, giving the appearance of classy and perfection. Sharing a heated kiss with a woman in public was something he never did, until Emory.
Ethan studied Bogs who was looking out to the party, his face serious. His laughing smiling brother was dead serious. Emory wasn’t just special to Roxanne and him, she was special to all the Garrisons. And brother or no brother, Bogs would have Emory’s back.
“I’m in.”
Turning to the group, settled by the present table, he stared at Emory, smiling as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. Fucking beautiful.
“You better be sure, E. ’Cause I…”
Ethan gave him no chance to finish, he glared over at Bogs, stopping him from finishing whatever he was going to say. His intense stare beat into his brother. He was about to deliver the most honest piece of truth he’d ever spoken.
“I’m all in.”
Chapter 3
“UGH…TOO much whiskey.”
Emory rolled over in the bed, pulling the pillow over her head and wishing she could turn back time. There was that point in a night of drinking when your body tells you, “Put the drink down, this is the one you’ll regret.” Most people took heed to the warning. Emory wasn’t most people.
“Oh my God.” She grunted. “Am I dead?”
“Way too much whiskey. C’mon, rise and shine.”
She lifted the pillow from her head, a deep frown set in her face. Peering through blurry eyes, Emory scowled at Roxanne. Roxanne stood at the edge of the bed, perfectly coiffed in her pencil skirt and pink peasant blouse, her hair in a French twist, smirking down at Emory.
“Why do you look like my mom right now?”
“Ha-ha…very funny.” Roxanne turned to her dresser and opened her jewelry box.
“I feel like shit.” Emory whimpered, feeling her pounding head and dry mouth. Whiskey is not your friend, dumbass!
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks, bitch!” Emory closed her eyes, praying for the room to stop spinning.
Emory could hear Roxanne’s giggle from under the pillow she had just covered her face with.
“That’s what ya get for shooting whiskey with the big boys,” she teased.
“Never again.” Emory took a hard gulp, hoping that the feeling in her stomach would not have her darting to the bathroom to puke. “I’m never drinking again. Ever.”
“Yeah, okay. That’s what you said last time, you know. And the time before that.”
Emory pulled the pillow off her face and managed to pull herself up in a sitting position. Slight dizziness made her focus on the wall in front of her. She scowled over at Roxanne. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have a PTA meeting to go to?”
Roxanne snorted. “Well, aren’t we fun this morning? I actually have a meeting with new clients for their wedding.”
Emory nodded her head and rubbed her eyes. “Anyone I know?”
“Nope.” Her voice got closer and Emory opened her eyes to see Roxanne seated in front of her on the bed, eyeing her suspiciously. Here it was. She dodged the questions about Ethan last night but knew eventually Roxanne would corner her.
“What?”
Roxanne hesitated “You gonna tell me about last night on the patio. Ethan?”
Emory fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Here it was. “Nothing to tell.”
Emory’s head started spinning again. This time, she wasn’t sure if it was from her hangover or from the thought of her and Ethan on the patio last night.
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
Emory released a heavy breath, pulling herself back up to meet Roxanne’s eyes. “I like kissing your brother.”
Roxanne laughed. “Uh yeah, I get that. Anything else?”
Emory let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, Rox, he’s decided he’s been a fool ignoring me all those years. He’s realized that he’s been in love with me this whole time and we’re getting married. By the way, we’re gonna use someone else as a wedding planner.”
She ignored her comments and made a slightly annoyed face. “So, you’re not going to tell me?”
“Honestly, there’s nothing to tell. I kissed him. Again.”
Roxanne got up from the bed, knowing she wasn’t going to get any more out of her. They had a completely open relationship with everything. Except Ethan. In the last year, that had become a sore subject and rarely discussed.
“Interesting.”
“Nothing interesting about it, Rox.”
Roxanne eyed her suspiciously, her lip curving, and tilted her head to the side. “I find it interesting that he keeps kissing you back.”
With her comment she waved and said bye. Emory watched her walk out of the room, not giving any extra thought to her last comment. If she had, she would have overanalyzed last night. It was what it was. A kiss—nothing more, nothing less. She was fooling herself and she knew it. She had been the one to initiate but there was no mistaking that Ethan wanted it. Hell, he said yes. A sexy, low, rumbling, “Yes.”
Time to go. She couldn’t do this to herself or Roxanne or the Garrisons. This obsession with Ethan had to end completely. She thought she had a handle on it. When she was in Beaufort she didn’t have the constant reminder of him. She still thought of him, dreamed of him, screamed out his name when her vibrator launched an amazing orgasm. But she could also control it. Now that she was back home, seeing him again. All control…lost!
That kiss, hands on her waist, sliding down to her ass. His mouth on hers. Just the memory had her getting wet between her legs with a subtle ache. The way his tongue caressed her, slow, taking his time. His lips soft, never pulling away from hers until they were interrupted. The second was better than the first, something she didn’t think was possible. And now it was over, again.
Shaking off the thought of what happened last night, she grabbed some aspirin and made her way to the kitchen. There was only one thing to relieve her hangover. Coffee. Massive amounts of coffee.
After making the coffee, she tinkered around the kitchen, washing the last few dishes in the sink from the night before. As they always did, Emory and Roxanne had raided the fridge when they got home. They had been doing it since their first sleepover when she was six.
She had always felt truly at ease and at home at the Garrisons’. Even her own home, where she grew up, took second fiddle to this place. It was a lame thought but the old saying popped in her head, home is where the heart is. And her heart was always at the Garrisons’.
Resting the last plate on the drying rack, she heard the front door, then footsteps descending through the hall. It was probably John. He had been so insistent she stay here. He actually seemed angry that she had chosen to get a hotel room.
“Family stays with family. I’ll have one of the boys run over and get your things from the hotel in the morning.”
There was no arguing with John. Nor did she want to. This was where her mind went when she thought of home. This was what she really missed being nine hundred miles away.
“Good morning,” a deep smooth voice purred behind her.
What the hell was he doing here? She was trying h
er best to block the kiss from last night. The last thing she needed was him here reminding her of it. She grabbed a towel, drying off her hands.
“Hey.” Emory didn’t bother turning around. Hopefully, he would leave soon.
“How are you?”
Ugh, really? There was no need for small talk. Why couldn’t he go back to ignoring her?
“My head feels like it’s going to explode, but other than that? Just great.” She tossed the towel on the counter and walked over to the other end of the counter; making her coffee in silence. The tension in the room was undeniable. Neither of them spoke a word. Emory was pretty sure that if she had her choice she’d rather him go back to ignoring her as he had done for the last few years.
Ethan had always been sweet to her, taking an interest in her life. Hell, that was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with him so long ago. But a few years ago, things changed. He seemed to avoid her, no matter how hard she tried to get his attention. And she tried. Hard. His lack of attention only intensified her efforts to be noticed.
Finally turning around to face the inevitable, she looked over at him standing with his arms crossed leaning on the doorframe. No one should look that good in the morning, especially after a party that lasted until two a.m. But of course, Ethan did. If he was a girl she would have hated him on sight. Gorgeous was an understatement, and he always looked put together.
His legs were crossed over at his ankles, his dark jeans anything but casual. He was wearing a gray shirt that clung to his chest. As always, his black hair was perfectly coiffed, side parted and not a hair out of place. Meanwhile, she looked like she was auditioning for Night of the Living Dead. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Fuck her life.
His stare went right through her. His blue eyes peering at her, almost inspecting her. Time to get away from him. Fast!
“Yeah…so…I’m gonna go out back. See ya.” With her coffee in hand, she rushed to the glass doors leading out to the patio.
“I’d like to talk, if you can spare a minute.”
She stopped, inches away from her clean getaway. Her face heated up with embarrassment. She knew exactly why he wanted to talk. The same reason she didn’t want to. Why couldn’t they just kiss and forget about it?
She straightened her back, determined to leave this conversation unscathed. She knew another fight with Ethan would just add more stress to the family. She had done that once, lesson learned. She wasn’t going to do it again.
She half-stepped to the side and glanced over at Ethan who hadn’t moved from his spot and gave him a tight smile.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
He flinched at her words, which she thought was strange. His body pushed away from the door, arms dropping to his sides and straightening to full height. He was a little over six foot but the way he carried himself, he always seemed even larger.
Before he could speak, she jumped in again. “Look, last night, what I did, it was stupid. I’m sorry for kissing you. It’s just you were there, and I was there, and you told me I looked beautiful.” Looking down to the floor, she cringed. The words in her head sounded much better than when she actually spoke them. God, why the hell couldn’t he just ignore her!
“You did look beautiful, Emory.” His smooth voice was soft.
Her head jerked to him. Shit, he can’t say stuff like that! He stared back at her, face relaxed and calm. He had the most incredible face. The kind that should be on a magazine cover. Damn, why couldn’t he be ugly!
She physically shook, trying to regain control and block out his compliment. Ethan was charming, always had been. Where people struggled to find their words, they flowed out of him. Focus!
“Well, thanks. So, like I said, I’m sorry, I won’t be doing that again.” Her nervous laugh echoed through the kitchen. She gripped her mug tighter.
He nodded and smiled. “You won’t be kissing me anymore?”
“No.” Her tone made her sound unsure. The small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth let her know, he too, could hear the uncertainty. That pissed her off. Smug bastard.
“I won’t!” Her face heated and voice rose into a high pitched squeak. She turned again to the door. “I gotta go, bye!”
“Emory?”
She quickly spun around and glared. “What?”
He waited, not saying a word but letting his eyes peruse her stiff body. “Does this mean I can’t kiss you anymore?”
*
Ethan’s stare held hers. He could see her arms tremble and her heart pounding through her thin shirt. Her breasts rose at a rapid pace. He refrained from smirking at her shocked eyes. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. She almost looked vulnerable. Almost. He had seen Emory vulnerable, the night of their first kiss. All her walls down, completely giving herself to him in one kiss. He felt it. He was surprised but her walls were still in place, strong thick walls that may have been shaken by his question but still in place.
Ethan knew that getting to Emory, really getting to her, wouldn’t be another kiss or a promise, or even a declaration that he had feelings for her. Feelings he struggled to come to terms with for the last year. Telling Emory wouldn’t do it. He’d have to show her.
The ringing of her phone had her pulling her gaze from his and fumbling with her coffee. She grabbed her phone.
“Y-yeah?” She stuttered slightly.
An even toned cold voice came through the other end of the line, “Emory Kern, is that how you answer your phone? To say that is unprofessional is an understatement. My God!”
Emory panicked and started to hit a button on the phone. She was obviously trying to get her mom off speaker. Unsuccessfully. She slammed down her coffee on the counter, spilling half of it.
“Emory!”
Her face twisted and her hands curled around the phone. Frustrated she mouthed, “Fuck me.” Then turned to Ethan. He shot his eyebrows up, cocking his mouth to the side. Was that an offer, Miss Kern? Ethan remained smirking which he knew was infuriating her. Looking to her phone again, slamming her index finger on the pad several times she grumbled, “Fucking piece of shit.”
“Emory Ann Kern!”
Bringing the phone to her ear, her lips tensed and she closed her eyes, “Mom, I’m sorry. This phone…it’s just…ugh.”
“Please make an effort to speak in full sentences. You sound like an uneducated idiot, Emory.”
Ethan lost his smile hearing Mrs. Kern. He had never been a fan of either of Emory’s parents. It was well known to all the Garrisons that the reason she spent so much time at their house was because she wasn’t wanted at her own. The Kerns provided for Emory. They used her when needed to appear as a family but if she wasn’t needed for their agenda, she was ignored.
They didn’t hesitate to belittle her either. Emory was strong willed but he could see the defeat in her face from across the room.
Emory shook her head, shoulders slouched and huffed a breath. “Sorry.”
“Where are you?”
Emory’s head shot up. “Where am I?”
“Yes, where are you? It’s not a difficult question.”
Emory scrambled. “Like right now, where am I?”
“Oh dear God, Emory.”
“Um…in the kitchen.” Her eyebrows quirked up.
The phone line was silent. Ethan watched Emory look over to him in confusion. She shrugged, which had Ethan smiling at her. She looked cute trying to evade her mom’s question.
“Whose kitchen?”
Ethan slowly jerked his head to Emory. Ethan was a manipulator. Some saw this as a flaw, he saw it as a gift, if used correctly. He had a way of reading people, knowing their motives by just their mannerisms, the way they shifted their eyes, tapped a finger against a table or the tone in their voice. He could read people. A true manipulator like Ethan, could sense one of his own.
Emory was not a manipulator. But her mother was a master.
Ethan walked
to Emory, keeping his gaze on her and mouthed, “She knows, don’t lie.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, clear signs of defeat.
“I’m actually at Rox’s house. I flew in for Ethan’s party.” She bit her lip so hard he could see a white line forming.
“I see. And were you going to let me know you were in town?”
“Well…it’s a really quick trip and I knew you’d be working.”
Her mother snapped, “Do you know how embarrassing it is to have Marsha Gilmore tell me she saw you at the party and I had no idea you were in town?”
“Well, it was a last minute decision…”
“Unbelievable. I’ll have you know she took great joy in my surprise.”
Ethan fought back his anger. The only reason her mom was mad was because she was made to look like a fool. She didn’t care about seeing Emory. She never really cared. Watching Emory’s face, she also knew. He had seen that look on her face many times, a look he hated now more than ever.
Reaching out, he clasped his fingers in hers, aware of her flinching. She looked down at her hand, shock on her face. His thumb rubbed over her hand. Her hands were small and soft. He waited until she looked up to him and he smiled, taking a step into her space. She remained still.
“Good morning, anyone here?” Ethan greeted.
“Who is that?” her mom asked.
Emory mouthed, “What the hell are you doing?”
He sneered and lifted his chin to the phone, keeping his gaze locked on hers.
Taking his cue, she announced, “That’s Ethan, Mom. He just came in the room and you’re on speaker.”
“Oh.” He could hear her surprise and he knew what was coming next. The Kerns didn’t think much of the Garrisons. Ironic since it was his family that practically raised Emory. But Mrs. Kern thought herself better than Darla Garrison. She believed her work made her successful, and his mom found her success in the love for her family.
Mrs. Kern may have thought she was better than the rest, with the exception of Ethan. She was impressed with him and he knew it.
“Ethan, so wonderful to hear your voice. Happy belated birthday.”
