by Jenny Rabe
Emilie scooted off the bench and stood. “If you mention Finn one more time, I’m leaving. If you don’t want to come next week then don’t.”
The entire restaurant stopped all movement, all talk. Dean’s appetite disappeared, along with his will to refuse her offer. It was the perfect out, and yet, he wasn’t looking for an escape. Finally, he reached for her hand and pulled her back to the seat.
“No, I don’t want that. You think you can handle this wedding alone, but it would be difficult to face everything by yourself.” He ran his thumb over her soft skin. “I care about you too much to let that happen.”
“Here’s your pizza.” The waitress set their pizza on a stand and hurried off.
He dished up a piece for Emilie and himself, but he was no longer hungry and his piece sat on the plate, limp and cold. A pathetic reminder of the night. Broken sentences and rushed emotions wasn’t how he’d planned this talk in his head.
Emilie was unaffected and ate three pieces before slowing down. Finally, she put down her napkin and cleared her throat. He felt her eyes waiting for him to focus on her, and after a minute of resisting, he looked at her.
“Why did you tell me, Dean? What does knowing it do for us? If you can’t trust me, why even bother?”
He shrugged. “I needed you to know and to see how you felt about me.”
“We. Are. Friends. If things get awkward after a breakup—”
“What breakup? You think I’m ever going to let you go?”
Emilie’s frown wavered for half a second before turning down again. “But I plan to move back to Boston. Leaving’s bound to happen anyway, so let’s not even start.”
Dean lifted a hand to his head and rubbed his temples. “First of all, nothing is set in stone. And second, if you move, we can deal with that when the time comes. Who said we can’t make something long distance work?”
Emilie opened her mouth and closed it again.
He had shut her up good that time. Maybe he could finally get through to her. “Listen, you think after all this time of liking you we would ever break up? I would never let this end in shambles. I mean, unless you don’t like me one bit.”
As he waited for her to answer, Dean imagined drips of water coming from a faucet, painfully slow and irregular. Her eyes grew wide and glassy. “I do care about you, Dean. It’s like we’re best—”
“Don’t.” Dean stood abruptly. “We are adding the ‘b’ word to the list of things we don’t say. Who cares if we’re friends? Does it make sense to jump into a relationship where you aren’t friends?”
She stared at him but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much left to say if she didn’t want to move forward in their relationship. He could drop a hook in the water, but if the fish wasn’t biting…
He looked around for the waitress, wanting to speed up the night. Why did he open his mouth? “I think we’ve hounded this topic enough. I’ve said my piece, and it’s clear how you feel. Let’s talk about something else.”
19
Emilie
All day Sunday, Emilie moped around the house. She attempted to call Dean to cancel the trip four times, but at the last minute, she changed her mind.
Later in the day, when she couldn’t stay in the house anymore, she drove to where Danvers State hospital used to be. It was on top of Old Dodge Hill, as most of the city’s residents called it. Before the hospital was demolished in 1992, her mother visited her grandmother. Her grandmother had schizophrenia, too.
Even though she was too young to go, her mother had hated those visits. If she had known her mom would have the same issues as her grandmother, she would’ve researched more about her family genes earlier.
Most people had fears they would inherit their parents’ illnesses, but the likelihood of it happening was less than ten percent. She had researched and asked a lot of questions when her mom was first diagnosed. She avoided alcohol, street drugs, or any drugs for that matter, and tried to limit her stress.
Which is why she needed a visit to Old Dodge Hill.
When she reached the top of the hill, she got out and glanced around. A small portion of the building remained, but most people went there for the lookout. Emilie sat down on a grassy spot and stared out at the city, or what would’ve been the next city over if it hadn’t been for the overgrown shrubbery.
The well-kept secret spot was her favorite place to think. Right then and there, she was going to make a choice. A couple of choices.
Monday was speeding toward her, and Dean’s confession remained on her mind like a car on the tracks in front of a moving train. If she didn’t make a move, she was going to crash and burn big time.
It was understandable that Dean held a grudge against Finn. Dean had stayed by her side when Finn crushed her. The answer was clear before the date. But after being accused, she wavered. Trust was the foundation of a relationship. How he thought she still held a candle for Finn was beyond her, but she had to convince Dean otherwise.
Yes, there it was. She liked Dean. And then suddenly, the other answers tumbled into place. It was worth the risk. If she moved, their relationship was worth the long distance. She stood and cheered like a warrior. Her voice belted out loud. Finally, her head was clear, and even though no one was around, she wouldn’t have cared if someone had been. She felt like beating her chest and roaring.
If Dean confessed again, she was sure of what to say. If he doubted her trust, she knew how to confirm her feelings. All she had to do was wait for the right moment.
The next morning at eight, Dean knocked on the door. She hurried to the door, swung it open, and ran back to the stairs to drag her suitcase out. It was heavier than it should be, with three outfits for every day, books to read, and too many “if this happens, wear this” choices.
He looked adorable in a sea-green collared shirt, jeans, and brown boat shoes. The look fit him. “Hey, Dean.” She kept her voice bright. If things progressed, they’d be dating by the end of the night.
“Good morning.” His voice was low, and before she could touch his arm or anything, he took the bag, backed out of the house, and packed it in the back of the truck.
Instead of opening her door, he jumped in the cab and started the truck. She sighed, slow and long. It was to be expected. She’d pushed him away for too long, and he had every reason to keep a safe distance.
“Buckle up.” His voice was polite as she climbed in the truck. She raised an eyebrow but kept quiet while he pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the interstate.
Her phone rang, and she looked down at it in her hands. Ava’s second call that morning. After leaving Dodge Hill the previous day, Emilie had dropped by Gail’s house to appeal to her one more time. But she politely refused again.
Emilie didn’t know what to tell Ava, but she couldn’t avoid her for long. After another ring, she answered the call. “Hey, girl.”
“Hey, are you on your way? I can’t wait for this week.”
Emilie turned to Dean to laugh at Ava’s enthusiasm, but he stared straight ahead, unaware of her at all. “Yep, we pulled out of the driveway a minute ago. It’s going to be a good week.” Well, she hoped so. If she couldn’t get Dean out of his grumpy slump, it might not be.
“Don’t forget to stop by Mom’s house. It’s worth one more try.”
Emilie swallowed to loosen the tightness in her throat. “She’s not coming. I’m sorry.”
The phone was quiet for a minute. “What do you mean?” Ava’s voice broke. “She doesn’t want to miss work for a whole week?”
Emilie chewed on her bottom lip for half a second before responding. “No, I mean she’s not coming at all. I tried, I really did, several times. I went over yesterday to make sure she felt the same, but it was still a no.”
“No? How could she say no to her only child? Did she give a reason?” Ava’s voice took on a panicked tone.
Dean leaned in, as if trying to listen in on the call.
“Not exactly.” Emilie s
cooted closer on the seat, but he straightened his back and returned to snubbing her. Fine, she could deal with silence for now. She didn’t want to confess to him when he was in a bad mood.
“Your mom changed the subject whenever I brought it up. It’ll be tough not to have her there, but we’ll still have a good time. Don’t worry about it.”
Ava was quiet again.
“Ava are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Thanks for trying.” Without saying goodbye, Ava hung up with a click.
Emilie stared at the phone and shook her head. Already the week was off to a rocky start.
The drive along the highway toward Cape Cod was beautiful, with water on one side and little beach shops everywhere. But it wasn’t enough to distract her from Dean’s silence. Worry grew in the pit of her stomach.
More and more trees popped up along the side of the road after they crossed over Swan Pond River Bridge into Dennisport, and Emilie tried to focus on how beautiful the scenery was. The tension in the air was thick and depressing. The ride was nothing like what she’d planned in her head. Where was the laughter and flirting?
By the time he pulled into The Mansion at Ocean Edge Resort and Golf Club, tears brimmed in her eyes. She held a hand to each eye, discreetly wiping any tears that spilled over. Right as he pulled up to the valet parking, a sniffle escaped.
In the window’s reflection, she saw Dean turn to her. She swiped at her face before meeting his eye. “Some dust, I think.” She opened the door and escaped before he asked any questions. She ran inside to find the nearest bathroom and spent a few minutes cleaning up her face.
When her insides stopped ripping inside her, she exited the bathroom and found Dean waiting in line at the receptionist’s desk with their baggage.
His forehead creased with worry lines, and they deepened when she joined him in line.
“Everything okay?”
His simple question brought the tears back. When the first tear fell, he straightened and took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Emilie, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She cried into his shoulder, not worrying about who overheard them. “I’m sorry about everything, Dean.”
He backed up and wiped her face.
“Next in line, please.” They glanced up to see the receptionist motioning them forward. Dean gave her a regretful look and tapped her nose. “Let’s talk in a minute.”
Emilie took a deep breath, a small weight lifted from her shoulders. They were going to talk. In a few minutes, she was finally going to tell him everything.
The receptionist was a tall woman with tiny features and an even smaller voice. “Do you have a reservation?”
Emilie glanced nervously at Dean. He slipped his hand into hers, and warmth traveled up her arm and into her cheeks. Gone was the anxiety and worry. “Try your last name.”
Dean looked back at the receptionist. “Check if it’s under Emilie Carter or Dean Wright.”
The lady clicked quickly on her keyboard and gave a small shake of her head. “No, I’m sorry. There’s no reservation under those names.”
Emilie looked around for Ava. “We’re with Finn Walter’s wedding. He said he was taking care of the rooms for the whole wedding party.”
She widened her eyes and checked the screen again. “I’m sorry. I see a room for Finn and Ava Walter, but they have only signed up for one room.”
“Oh, I’ve got it.” A familiar male voice spoke up a few feet behind them. They turned. Finn rushed to the desk holding a black credit card. “Sorry, we were supposed to have everything arranged, but Ava’s still finalizing everything.”
For the first time all day, Emilie smiled. The sooner they checked in, the sooner she and Dean could talk. “Thanks, Finn.”
Dean stepped forward. “Is it just our room you’re paying for?”
Finn looked from the desk clerk to Dean. “You two were a last minute add to the wedding list. I just went ahead and—”
“I can take care of us. No need to spend extra.” Dean reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed a credit card to the lady.
Finn shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. I promised Emilie I’d take care of you two. You’re getting married and need to save money. Soon you’ll be paying the big bills for your own wedding.”
Dean sighed. “You’re having your wedding right now. Come on, let me pay for us.”
Finn held out his credit card. “Please take this. Their money is no good here.”
Emilie stepped forward and placed a hand against Dean’s chest. “Finn, you didn’t need to do that. But thanks. We’ll save the extra money for our own wedding.” She hoped the words would make Dean feel better, but she doubted they did. He shoved his credit card back into the wallet and kept his eyes on the floor. They needed to talk soon before he completely gave up on her.
Finn pocketed his card and handed them a folded sheet of paper. “A tentative schedule. Nothing too big today. The guys are meeting in an hour for a round of golf, the girls are meeting at the resort spa, and tonight there’s dinner in the ballroom to kick things off.”
“Sounds great.” Emilie slipped an arm around Dean’s. “You love golf, don’t you, honey?”
Golf was one of Dean’s least favorite things to do. He tensed, making Emilie giggle. It was forced, but a step in the right direction. They both needed to lighten up and have fun again.
Finn nodded. “All right then. I’ll meet you in the golfer’s lounge later.”
The receptionist gave Dean two room keycards and directions to the elevator.
The lobby quickly filled with Finn’s family, a lot of them familiar to Emilie. It was natural to greet them when they waved to her, but she kept a strong grip on Dean’s arm and only smiled when they acknowledged her.
“Should we go?” Dean asked, less gruff than before. Emilie nodded and bounced after him toward the elevator.
They rode in silence to the third floor. Her heart raced as their room number came into view. Dean opened the door, and Emilie scooted inside. There was a lovely view with big wide windows. One side of the room showed off the golf course and the other the pool area. The hotel even had an artificial beach to lay out on.
A half wall separated the room with the king-sized bed and the leather sectional. They wouldn’t be sharing much of a room after all. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
When the door clicked closed, Dean walked to her, a question in his eyes.
Oh! She knew without having to ask, and for once, she wanted to nip everything in the bud. “Before you ask anything, I want to say this. I’m upset that you think I have something for Finn, a practically married man. Those days are long gone, Dean.”
He didn’t look convinced. “How can I be sure?”
“Darn it, I want you!”
Oh! Emilie covered her mouth. Saying the words had released a tight rubber band wound around her damaged insides, banishing an ache she wasn’t aware of.
He stared at her with curious eyes. Oh, she was screwed, so very screwed. “What did you say?”
She shrugged. The words stuck in her throat.
After waiting a few seconds, he stepped even closer and stroked her cheek once. An electric charge coursed through her blood while he studied her. He bit his bottom lip and touched his nose to hers. Heat filled her cheeks, and his woodsy, minty smell enveloped her. She closed her eyes and turned her head so her lips grazed the side of his cheek.
Emilie’s phone buzzed, startling them. She jumped back, putting space and cool air between them. A text from Ava to hurry down to the spa. Blood pounded in her ears while she stared at the text. What now? Her courage wavered, and she grabbed for her suitcase handle.
“I’d better change if I’m going to the spa.”
Dean nodded, and she left him on the other side of the dividing wall, dragging her suitcase behind her. When he was no longer in sight, she rested her head against the wall and focused on breathing in and out. It
had been the right choice—a scary but amazing confirmation of their chemistry.
Finn’s touch was an amateur spark next to Dean’s electric current. She grinned and buried her head in her hands. This week was going to be so good.
20
Dean
Dean changed into a pair of black slacks he never wore and found a hat in his luggage.
Finn had been on the high school golf team and dabbled with playing professionally. Dean didn’t stand a chance against him. At least Finn had failed at getting the right girl in the end. Dean peeked around the side of the room and saw Emilie pulling back her hair in a tight ponytail.
Her face was still flushed from their moment only minutes ago. Her lips had touched his face. Had it been a slip? No, it was practically a kiss. Wow, she actually almost kissed him. On purpose! The woman he couldn’t let go. Had she taken the risk, he would’ve claimed her mouth and never let go.
He scratched his head. Too many times he’d jumped the gun and been disappointed. For once, he decided to let things be. She’d have to make the next move.
“I’m heading out.” He tapped on the wall. “Thought I’d hydrate at a bar before I lose.”
Emilie peeked around the corner. “Do you want to meet me here later so we can go to dinner together?” Her smile was tentative and beautiful. If only he hadn’t wasted their time in the truck.
“Sure.”
Warmth spread through him. All he wanted to do was scoop her in his arms and love her. He took a step forward, wanting to apologize right then. Another step. Just as he lifted his foot to take another one, he imagined her saying the friend word. If she called him her best friend again...
No. No, he had to leave before she took everything back. He spun around and headed for the door. “See ya.”
While he made his way to the lounge, his mind and heart raced. The tense ride to the resort was a thing of the past, and he’d gladly put it behind them if they continued to have moments like that.
