by Dena Blake
“I told you the Helmut’s Strudel booth by the east entrance.”
“That explains it. We went to the Dinkel’s booth,” Brent said.
They wandered up and down the booths with Emma gripping Dex’s hand as they trudged through the crowd. She’d only ever been there early in the day and hadn’t realized how busy it got in the afternoon. It was becoming exhausting. They’d barely been able to snag a table when they’d stopped for beer and pretzels in the beer garden. The brass band was fantastic, playing waltzes, polkas, and foxtrots. Emma could’ve sat there for the rest of the evening listening and watching people dressed in authentic German clothing dance throughout the tent. But that was short-lived, because Grace wanted to see more of the market and insisted she and Dex go with them.
“Hey, look at this guy over here.” Brent pointed to the guy carving one-of-a-kind nutcrackers, and he and Grace stopped to watch.
“Have you ever had the mulled wine here?” Dex asked Emma.
Emma smiled. “Yes. It’s awesome.”
“Great. I’ll get us some.” Dex sprinted to the booth while the three of them watched the wood-carver.
When Dex came back with the wine, Grace glanced at her and then the mugs in her hands. “You didn’t bring me one?”
“Oh, sorry.” Dex started back toward the drink stand.
“Can’t Brent get it for her?” Emma nudged Brent in the shoulder. “Grace wants some mulled wine.”
“Okay. Hang on. I want to watch this guy finish making this. He’s almost done.” He pointed to the wood-carver. “Isn’t this nutcracker awesome?”
Dex waved him off. “I got it.”
Emma tilted her head and widened her eyes. “Seriously?”
“I’ll be right back.” Dex gave Emma’s arm a quick squeeze.
“I’ll come with you,” Grace said as she reached for Dex’s hand and clasped it. After what appeared to be an awkward moment, Dex released it. Grace took it again and bolted to a stop, halting Dex along with her. Emma couldn’t tell what they were saying, but Grace had the usual scowl on her face, and Dex’s face was blank.
Emma spun around to Brent. “You suck.”
“What?” He veered his gaze from the carving for a moment. “Why?”
“My date is taking care of your wife.”
“She was going there anyway.” He shrugged and pointed at the three-foot-tall nutcracker for sale. “I’m going to buy one of these for Grace.”
“Don’t you think that’s a tad big?” Grace would probably never allow the monstrosity in her house.
He lifted the lever embedded in the back of it. “It actually cracks nuts.”
“They all do. Hence the name nutcracker.”
“Whatever. I’m buying it, and she’s going to love it.” He took out his wallet. “You’ll see.”
Emma watched Dex as she moved through the crowd coming toward her. She was absolutely beautiful, with pink cheeks and reddened lips. The army-green parka, which she wore zipped only halfway up, fit her well, and something about the way the charcoal hoodie underneath clung to her made Emma want to explore the treasures hidden beneath it.
When they finally made it through the crowd, Dex quickly went to Emma’s side and traded cups with her. “This one’s nice and warm,” she said as she lowered her chin and stared into her eyes.
The fact that Dex had thought enough to bring her a warm cup took the edge off Emma’s irritation. The softness in Dex’s deep-green eyes calmed her even more. The jolt Emma couldn’t deny zapped all her senses to life. She slipped her arm around Dex’s waist and let the feeling wash through her. Grace watched them, her eyes dark through slitted openings, but Emma didn’t care. Nothing could temper the electricity flowing between them. She wanted to be out of this place, away from all other distractions. She gave Dex a smoldering kiss, hoping she got the message. When she opened her eyes, Grace was still staring, shooting live grenades directly at her.
Brent appeared holding the huge nutcracker propped up against him. “Look what I bought you, baby.” He puffed his chest out as he held it proudly. “It’ll go great by the fireplace.”
“Or in the fireplace,” Emma said under her breath. Dex caught the comment and grinned.
Grace hesitated at first. It was clear she wasn’t thrilled. Then she smiled widely, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed Brent sweetly. What a ridiculous show.
Emma leaned in and whispered in Dex’s ear. “You want to get something to eat? I know this quaint little Italian restaurant nearby. I think we have enough time before the tree lighting.”
Dex nodded. “I’d love to.”
“Love to what?” Grace asked, and Emma rolled her eyes.
“We’re going to go check out some of the other booths,” Dex said, covering nicely. It seemed she wanted to be alone with her as well.
“Great. I’ll come along.”
“Okay. The art booths are this way.” She waved Grace on.
She stopped. “On second thought, how about we meet up at the German Grill?” Grace asked.
Dex took Emma by the hand and pulled her out of Grace’s earshot. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just didn’t expect to have to share you with Grace all afternoon.” Brent had made the day a little more bearable. She would’ve felt like the ultimate third wheel if he hadn’t been there.
“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have answered the phone this morning when she called.” She pulled her farther into the crowd.
Emma glanced back to see Grace watching them walk away. “Grace hates art.”
“I know. I thought it might give us some alone time.” The grin on Dex’s face was charmingly devious. “I hope you don’t mind looking at it.”
“No. Not at all. I love art. And I would love some alone time with you.”
“Yeah?” Dex stopped and gazed into Emma’s eyes.
“Yeah.” Emma kissed her softly. She was sure Dex had no idea how much alone time she was looking forward to having with her tonight. The afternoon with Grace had been a sacrifice, but one kiss from Dex was well worth it.
“We’ll cut out after we get to the end of the art,” Dex said, and that’s exactly what they did.
* * *
Grace and Brent had been waiting in front of the German Grill for over thirty minutes before the text came through from Dex.
Hey, we decided to do Italian for dinner instead.
Grace’s stomach knotted when she read the text and realized Dex had left and had purposely not told her until after she was already gone.
She immediately typed back. What the hell, Dex?
I know how much you love German food, so I figured you’d want to stay.
Thanks for not giving me an option.
Grace didn’t wait for a response. She turned her phone on silent and tossed it into her purse. They fucking left. “They’re not coming. Emma wanted to leave.” She was sure that was the reason.
Brent shrugged. “Then let’s eat.” He stared at the wooden menu board above the counter. “What do you want?”
“I want Italian.”
“I don’t think they have any Italian here, babe.”
“They don’t. That’s where Dex and Emma went.”
He turned around to face her. “Oh. Are we supposed to meet them?”
“Nope. Apparently, Emma doesn’t like having us around.”
“Huh? She said that?”
“Might as well have. Fucking rude to just leave like that.” She shook her head and glanced back to see if she could spot an empty table.
“We’ve done it before.” He glanced back at the menu.
She spun around. “I have never left Dex anywhere alone.”
“You’re not alone.” His forehead creased. “Am I missing something here?”
“You’re right, baby.” She smiled up at him. “I’m not alone.” Just fucking hurt. She leaned into him. “Let’s get some food.”
They ordered a couple of bratwurst, and Grace took the food t
o the closest open table in the Grand Timber Haus while Brent got them a couple of beers.
While the music played, singing and dancing continued on the stage. But Grace was deep in thought about her conversation with Dex earlier when they’d gone to get the mulled wine. It had been strained at best. First, Dex hadn’t asked her if she wanted any wine, and then she’d acted like she didn’t want anything to do with her on the way to get some.
When Dex had pulled her hand from Grace’s she’d immediately taken it back and tugged her to a stop and said, “Where is your heart, Dex? I’m not feeling the love anymore.”
Dex had seemed surprised at first when she’d called her on her behavior. “You got married, Grace.” Her voice had risen as she’d stared into Grace’s eyes. She’d acted absolutely ridiculous.
“What difference does that make?” Grace honestly had no idea why it mattered.
Dex had taken in a deep breath and then shook her head. “No difference. I’m just not having the best day, that’s all.”
She’d glanced at Emma and saw her watching them intently. “I can see why, if Emma acts like that all the time.” Her possessiveness was suffocating.
“We’re on a date. She didn’t expect it to be a foursome.”
“The more the merrier, right?” Grace had said, and Dex had agreed.
She didn’t know what Emma’s problem was. Grace was Dex’s best friend, and that wasn’t going to change as far as Grace was concerned.
When they’d come back with the wine and Emma had cozied up to Dex and kissed her, Grace had practically thrown up. Her stomach knotted again. She wasn’t about to be pushed out of Dex’s life so easily.
Brent sat next to her and set the beers in front of them before swiping one of the bratwursts and taking a huge bite.
“Did you see the way Emma kissed her right there in the market in front of everyone?” Grace nibbled at her food. She wasn’t really hungry anymore.
“So what? No one cares,” Brent said before taking a gulp of beer.
And no one did care except Grace, which was the problem. She wasn’t the most important person in Dex’s life anymore, and it hurt.
Chapter Eighteen
Sneaking out of the festival was easier than Dex thought it would be, and they’d pulled it off. The last time they’d glanced back at Grace, Brent was between them, totally obstructing her view. Dex had grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her into the crowd moving toward the art area. They’d walked up one side of the aisle perusing the art and then quickly left for the quaint little Italian restaurant in the River District that Emma had suggested. It was farther away than some others Dex knew of, but well worth the extra few minutes to get there. The place was authentically Italian.
Dex was impressed by the waft of aromas that assaulted her as they entered. “This place smells wonderful.”
“The recipes have been handed down for generations. Every time I come here I want to eat everything on the menu,” Emma said as she linked her arm with Dex’s.
“Well, then let’s have at it.” Dex let her move in front of her as they followed the hostess to the table.
From the moment they’d arrived at the restaurant, the evening had been nothing short of spectacular. Everything on the menu was served family style, so after a few tough decisions, they’d agreed on a couple of dishes to share and ordered a bottle of house wine.
Emma took a sip and peered over her wineglass, and a warm feeling stirred low in Dex’s belly. The food hadn’t even arrived and she was ready to leave.
“So tell me about your job,” Dex said, trying to stay focused through dinner. Her dad, who was quite the charmer, always told her that the best way to get someone talking was to ask them about themselves.
Emma took another sip and set her glass on the table. “It’s not the most interesting career in the world, but it pays well, and I seem to be good at it.”
The look in Emma’s eyes seemed uncertain, like maybe she undervalued what she did for a living. Dex reached across the table and took her hand. “I’d like to hear about it, just the same.”
“I’m warning you, advertising is not the most stimulating dinner conversation.”
“Neither is landscaping, but when I told you about it, you listened like it was better than homemade ice cream.”
Emma shifted in her chair, blew out a breath, and stared at the ceiling. “I have a confession to make.”
Dex raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes, waiting for Emma to finish her sentence.
“While landscaping can be very exciting stuff, truthfully, nothing in the world is better than homemade ice cream.”
And there it was, another shot of fresh air in Dex’s heart, a place that had been deprived of oxygen for far too long. Emma was breathing life into it like no one else had ever done before.
* * *
Dex glanced at the clock as Emma snuggled into her. It was already three o’clock in the morning, and time was rushing past when all she wanted to do was savor each moment she had with Emma. She had fully intended to go home tonight, but as soon as they’d hit the door, Emma had kissed her with such urgency and passion she couldn’t possibly leave. They’d made love and then talked for hours. It seemed they never ran out of things to say to each other. This woman did something to her, made her feel good about herself, made her feel wanted for more than just the things she could do for her.
Emma’s breathing had slowed into a rhythm of contented sleep, and Dex thought about the way she’d explored Emma’s body and brought her to complete satisfaction just a little while ago. And Emma had done the same to her. She could very well be happy satisfying Emma in every way for the rest of her life. It was the first time in forever Dex found herself looking forward to life and the future.
* * *
Emma wandered into the break room at work and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her day yesterday with Dex had been hijacked, but the night following had made up for it. Dinner had been wonderful, and the tree lighting they’d gone to after was always a treat, even more so since she’d shared the whole experience with Dex. She had a way of seeing things in ways Emma had never thought about before. The surface was just the beginning for her. Dex seemed to always take a deep dive into how things worked. The intricacies of Christmas lighting were much more complicated than Emma expected, and Dex was really sweet at explaining how it all came together—sometimes with a main power source, others with a computer program to control the patterns. Emma had always appreciated the time and work that went into lighting, but even more now that she knew how complicated the whole process was.
“Are you okay?” Brent’s voice pulled Emma from her thoughts.
“Yeah, why?” She took the creamer from the refrigerator and splashed some into her coffee before handing the carton to him.
“I just shot you a great one-liner, and you didn’t laugh.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m just really deep into a proposal right now.” She really should be but hadn’t been able to think of much besides Dex all morning.
“So, what happened to you two yesterday?” He used the creamer and then slid it into the refrigerator. “I looked around, and all of a sudden you guys were just gone.” He raised his hands before he took a drink of coffee.
“Sorry. I wanted a little alone time with Dex.” She peeked over her cup at him. “You can’t blame me for that, can you?”
“Not for that, but I can for the earful I got from my wife when she realized you guys had left. A heads-up would’ve been nice.”
Emma chuckled. “Haven’t you learned to tame that yet?”
He shook his head. “Never gonna happen. She likes things her way.”
“That’s obvious. I just thought you might be able to rein her in some by now.”
“I never argue with the boss.”
“Wow. What’s happened to you? Is she that special?”
“You’ve never seen the real Grace. She’s actually very sweet and compassionate when you get to know her.”
Emma remembered the summer picnic last July. She’d been in charge of the events for the day. She’d arranged three-legged races, giant Jenga, a bean-bag toss tournament, and a giant ring toss, among other games. It was the water-balloon dodge ball that had gotten Emma into trouble. She’d lobbed a balloon perfectly at Brent, and when he batted it away it had landed squarely on Grace’s head. She’d picked the fullest balloon in the bucket, and it had splattered all over Grace, plastering her hair to her head and completely soaking her T-shirt. The fire in her eyes was enough to send the fiercest bear running. As soon as she eyed the balloon bucket, Emma knew she was in for it. Grace had sprinted to the bucket, filled the bottom of her shirt with water balloons, and fired each one at Emma at close range until she was soaked almost to the bone.
The whole thing hadn’t even been Emma’s fault because Brent had been the one to hit the balloon her way. Grace had something against her, and that was just an avenue she’d used to exact her never-ending disrespect. When you were on her bad side, the woman had a temper like a rabid coyote. Emma was sure she’d ended up in that category because of her friendship with Brent. Emma had shaken the whole incident off immediately, though her clothes had remained damp until the picnic ended that day. Emma had to admit that the chafing was a small price to pay for the scowl on Grace’s face when the balloon came down on her head.
“Are you listening to me?” Brent snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What’s going on with you today?”
She surfaced from her thoughts again. “Yeah, sorry. Just tired from yesterday.” She leaned on the counter and gave Brent her full attention. “Now what’s going on with Grace?”
“We’ve been fighting about money again.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes I think she cares more about it than me. Her parents use it to get her to do things for them.”
