His Best Friend's Older Sister
Page 19
Jay talked to Nick for fifteen minutes. Usually they texted each other, mostly about stupid stuff, but some things called for a phone conversation.
“Thanks for listening to me vent,” Nick said.
“Anytime. That’s what I’m here for.”
“About last night… I came on a bit strong. I’m sorry about that.”
“I needed that kick in the ass. You’ll be happy to hear that I’ve scoured the kitchen, and there’s no sign of vermin.”
Nick was quiet for a moment. “You reminded me of my father—all the empty cans and mindlessly watching TV—and that freaked me out. I’m glad you’re doing better now.” He paused. “What will you do about my sister?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Okay,” Nick said. “That’s okay.”
Jay considered calling Emily afterward. He wanted to see how she was doing after hearing the news.
But he didn’t.
He was afraid that hearing from him would just hurt her more.
The next day he made blueberry banana pancakes. He put a square of butter on the stack of pancakes, garnished them with blueberries and banana slices, and poured some maple syrup on top. Then he took a few pictures.
Wednesday night he made breakfast for dinner again. This time it was poached eggs on an English muffin with roasted asparagus and tomatoes.
He was whipping up fancy meals—well, fancy for him—because it made him feel closer to Emily. It reminded him of the time he’d gone to her place for brunch.
But it wasn’t just that.
Somehow, learning to make all these meals was a way of proving to himself that he was good enough for her, that he could be in a relationship.
Jay almost always ate cereal for breakfast, and he had one other breakfast he could make in the event of female company the next morning. Only one. Because it was rare that a woman stayed over more than once.
But with Emily, he wanted as many mornings as he could have. And sure, they’d probably eat cereal or toast most of the time, but he wanted to make their breakfasts special whenever he could.
Every morning he could have with her would be a gift. He could hardly believe this was in his grasp.
On Thursday, he was walking home when an apron in a store window caught his eye. Since he’d been doing a lot of cooking lately and had gotten tomato all over his shirt yesterday, an apron seemed like a good idea. Especially since he was planning to step up his game and do some baking tonight.
When he got home, he put on the apron and measured flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt into a bowl. He added butter and rubbed the mixture between his fingers until it resembled coarse sand, and then he added the rest of the ingredients.
Soon the scones were in the oven. Jay set the timer, took out the fancy raspberry jam he’d bought at the market the other day, and started on the fruit salad. He finished it just before the scones came out of the oven. He let them cool for a few minutes before he started plating his meal.
Yes, plating was a thing he now did.
A large scoop of fruit salad on one side of the plate, two scones on the other side, a garnish of mint. He poured a glass of milk and set the open jam jar beside the plate before taking pictures.
When he was on the fifteenth or sixteenth one, he started laughing.
Jay was wearing a white apron printed with cherries. He’d made fancy fruit salad with mint and he’d actually baked scones, for God’s sake, and he’d never baked anything before in his life. He’d even bought new dishes for the sole purpose of making his food look pretty, and he was now taking pictures of his meal. In fact, he was developing quite the food porn collection.
All because of Emily. He couldn’t imagine any other woman bringing him to this point.
He was willing to do everything necessary to make it work with her—she was worth it. He was willing to do it, and he was capable of it.
And when it came down to it, she wanted him for who he was. She didn’t want him to be a fancy businessman in a suit, even if she liked it when he pretended to be one in the bedroom. It still felt like a miracle that this wonderful woman wanted to be with him, but he knew, in his bones, that this could work.
So what if he’d never had a real relationship before? That didn’t mean he couldn’t have one with Emily Branson. There was no need to feel trapped by what he’d done in the past.
She was the only woman he’d ever loved. She was special to him.
Now he just needed to think of a way to get her back.
After a few minutes of thought, he picked up the phone to call Diana, but his mother rang before he could get to his contact list.
“Hello,” his mom said. “How are you? How was work today?”
“Mom, I’m sort of busy right now. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“I was just wondering if you’re free on Saturday. We’re going to have dim sum at that place you like in Agincourt. Ten thirty? Surely you don’t have anything to do on Saturday morning.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Are you having… What did Chelsea call it? A booty call? Netflix and chill?”
Dear God, he was going to kill his sister. What on earth had she told their parents?
“I’m having brunch with Emily Branson,” he said.
“Just Emily? Not the rest of her family?”
“Just Emily.”
“Does this mean what I think it means?”
“It does.”
“What—”
“Bye, Mom.” He ended the call before his mother could ask him a zillion other questions. He’d answer them some other time, after he’d patched things up with Emily, though doubtless she would call again tomorrow, if not five minutes from now, to interrogate him.
He flipped through his contact list and called Diana.
“I need your help,” he said.
****
On Saturday morning, Jay stepped out of a cab, carrying an enormous picnic basket and a garment bag. Diana was already waiting outside of Emily’s building.
Nick was there, too.
“Dammit, Diana,” Jay said. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.” He hadn’t wanted his friend there, knowing it would make him even more nervous.
“What is that you’re wearing?” Nicks lips curved up in a smile. “Is that a cherry apron with ruffles?”
And that was the other reason he hadn’t wanted his friend here.
“I couldn’t keep this a secret. I’m sorry,” Diana said. “I asked Emily to have brunch with me at ten thirty, and I said I’d meet her here at ten. You’re right on time.”
“Of course I’m on time.” Though it had been a struggle to get everything ready this morning, even though he’d gotten up before seven.
“What’s in the garment bag?” she asked.
“A suit.”
“Why are you wearing the apron instead of the suit?” Nick asked.
“Shut up. You don’t want to know.”
“Fine, fine.” Nick held up his hands. He seemed quite amused by this whole thing.
“Alright,” Jay said. “Enough of this. Diana, buzz Emily.”
Diana entered Emily’s buzzer number. Jay’s heart hammered as it rang once … twice…
“Hello?” Emily said. “Diana? Just give me a minute and I’ll come down.”
“No, no,” Diana said. “I need you to buzz me up. I have … uh … something to give you, and it’s rather big. I don’t want to carry it around when we go out.”
“Right. Okay.”
There was a click, and Nick opened the door.
“Good luck,” he said, slapping Jay on the back with a little too much force. “You got this.”
“Thanks.” Jay stepped inside the lobby, then waved back at Nick and Diana, as best he could while carrying the picnic basket and the garment bag.
It was time.
****
Emily zipped up her pink summer dress and slipped on her shoes. Diana had called a couple days ago to invite her out for
brunch, and it would be good to get out, even though she still felt like there was a lead ball in her chest.
She wondered what her sister-in-law could have brought her. She really had no clue.
There was a knock on the door, and she swung it open.
“Just give me a minute, Diana. I…”
The words died on her lips. It wasn’t Diana at the door.
It was Jay.
Jay Cheng was at her door, and he was wearing an apron with a cherry pattern and red ruffle. It was identical to hers, except the background was white rather than blue.
He grinned at her, not embarrassed about his attire. Just like he hadn’t been embarrassed when he was singing Spice Girls and shaking his hips in their hotel room.
“I think you know why I’m here,” he said.
She swallowed. No words came out.
“You’re not having brunch with Diana today,” he said, “as you’ve probably already figured out.”
He led her to her dining room table, then wrapped a tie—the one he’d worn at Nick and Diana’s wedding, if she remembered correctly—around her eyes so she couldn’t see a thing.
“Just give me a few minutes,” he said.
She could see nothing, but she could hear the clatter of dishes, the occasional swear word. And she was so very aware of his presence. Her skin prickled.
Perhaps they should try this blindfold business in the bedroom.
But even though she knew why he was here, she was nervous. Her heart was beating too quickly. Her forehead was sweaty.
She heard him sit down next to her, and then he removed the tie.
She gasped.
There were two white square plates laid out on the table, with scones and fruit salad, along with tiny dishes of butter and jam and cups of coffee. In the center of the table was a glass vase of pink carnations.
“I made everything.” He was sitting beside her, an identical plate in front of him. He was still wearing the apron.
“You made the scones?”
“Yes.”
The thought of Jay baking scones definitely turned her on.
“The jam? And what about the milk—did you milk the cow?”
He chuckled.
“I think you usually have tea with scones,” she said. “Though I’m more of a coffee girl.”
“I know. You started drinking it in high school.” He took her hands between his and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Emily Simone Branson. Only you could make me do something like this.”
“Only you could make me dance in my underwear.”
“I hope to make you do that many more times in the future.”
“I love you, too, Jay.”
He leaned over and kissed her, slowly, on the lips. She felt pinpricks of pleasure over every inch of her skin.
Only he could make her feel so much from something so simple.
And he loved her.
“How did you know my middle name?” she asked.
Damn. That probably wasn’t the sort of thing she was supposed to say at such a romantic moment, but she was unaccustomed to moments like this one.
“I convinced you to show me your driver’s license when you were sixteen,” he said. “Just after you got it, even though you claimed the picture was awful. Which it wasn’t. And once I learned something about you, I never, ever forgot it.” He pushed his fingers into her hair. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Emily, but I didn’t realize it until last weekend. I think you’re the reason I’ve never wanted a relationship with another woman.”
“If you realized it last weekend, why did you turn me down?”
“I was convinced I’d screw it up. I assumed you were too good for me.”
“Jay…” Her chest squeezed.
“I always thought you were perfect. I looked up to you.”
It seemed like a step forward that she didn’t start laughing hysterically at his words.
“I’m not perfect,” she said simply.
“You’re perfect for me.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, like she was very precious to him.
And she knew that she was.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He sounded pained by the thought.
“You’re here now. I forgive you.”
They sat in silence for a moment, her hand in his. It was a comfortable silence, yet it felt charged at the same time, with all they’d said in the past few minutes.
“I heard about your mother,” he said.
She nodded. “It was a shock. She’ll be okay, though. She thought I’d believe she deserved it, but I could never think that.” Emily paused. “That was my mother. She always thought that whatever happened to you was your own fault. But it’s not my fault that my skin—”
“Has texture.”
“Right.” Emily couldn’t help but smile again. “Well. That’s not my fault. And you like me anyway.”
“Very much. For everything you are.”
Her stomach decided this was the perfect time to growl.
“Oh, God,” she said. “I didn’t eat breakfast, since I had plans to go out with Diana.”
“Then start eating.”
“I have to take a picture first.” She grabbed her camera. She would never forget this moment, but she wanted to snap a few photos of the table so she’d be able to see exactly what it had looked like. A selfie of the two of them was necessary as well.
Afterward, she finally dug into the fruit salad, then slathered a scone with butter and jam.
They talked and they laughed and they drank their coffee. And they would get to do this again and again, and that just made her smile more.
“I have several more brunches to make for you today.” Jay tapped the picnic basket. “Parfait with homemade granola, omelet with mushrooms and bacon, blueberry-banana pancakes…”
“What will we do in between those meals?” she asked with a smile and a tilt of her head.
“What do you think?”
He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa.
“In case it wasn’t obvious, Em,” he said, settling his weight on top of her, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
“It was very obvious,” she said. “Don’t you worry.”
“I might not have much experience with relationships, but I promise to do everything I can to be the boyfriend you deserve.” His voice became quieter, rougher, and then he was kissing her. “I’ll spend my life proving I’m worthy of you. I won’t leave you again.”
He undid the first couple of buttons on her shirt and dropped his mouth to her throat. He pressed tiny kisses there before shifting to her birthmark, and she let him trace a lazy trail around it with his tongue before he returned to her mouth.
How far she had come.
How far they both had come.
“Shall I change into my suit?” he asked. “You look like a sexy secretary in that outfit. I’m glad you decided to wear a dress today.”
“I’m rather fond of your apron.” She touched the bow at the back of his neck.
“But you’ll really like what I plan to do to you when I’m your boss.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hm.” He stood up. “Go sit at the computer—after you take off your panties, of course. You shouldn’t wear those at work. Didn’t I tell you that?”
“You might have. And since you’re the boss, I’ll do what you say. For now.”
He gave her a wicked smile. She’d once thought no man would ever look at her like that.
But Jay did.
Her panties were damp, and she slid them to the floor.
Emily still loved the role-playing, though it wasn’t essential the way it had been at the beginning. With him, she was comfortable just being herself.
“I want you to start typing something for me,” he said after she took a seat in front of the computer. “The first time, you typed my name over and over, like a schoolgirl with a crush.”
“Next time I pretend to be a schoolgirl, I’ll dood
le it in the margins of my notebook. Perhaps I’ll be sent to the principal’s office because I’m not paying attention in class.”
“Perhaps you will be. But today you can write, ‘Jay loves me.’”
She typed those words over and over. Forty-two times, to be exact.
Emily wasn’t afraid of trusting him, she wasn’t afraid of getting closer to him. Now that Jay was here with her, now that he’d declared his love … she wasn’t afraid of him changing his mind. She wasn’t afraid of him breaking her heart. She believed him with everything she had.
Jay loves me.
Those words were now imprinted on her heart.
****
Several hours later, they were in the middle of eating blueberry-banana pancakes when Jay’s phone rang. It was Nick.
“Did brunch go well?” he asked.
“It did.” Jay looked over at Emily and squeezed her hand.
“Am I going to be the best man at a wedding soon?”
“Someday, yes.”
“Good enough for me,” Nick said. “Are you still wearing that ridiculous apron?”
“You don’t want to know what I’m wearing.”
“You’re right. Dear Lord, why did I ask that question?”
Jay actually was wearing the apron … with nothing underneath. But he certainly wasn’t going to share that information.
“I’m happy for you two,” Nick said. “Even though there are certain things I really do not want to think about.”
“Not as happy as I am,” Jay said with a smile.
He ended the call and kissed his girlfriend again. Once he would have felt twitchy about using that label, but now he loved it. With Emily. She was the only woman he would ever want. He could still hardly believe this was happening.
But it was real, and it was perfect.
And he knew it would last.
Forever.
The End
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