I thought back to my own friendships and relationships, and wondered when I became the least bit qualified to give advice. Basically, I had my beer-drinking buddies and Moira—who’d ended anything we had—and now I didn’t give a single fuck. I guess she didn’t really mean much to me. In a short time, Emerson had come to mean everything.
“Oh, she just asked if we could do coffee on Monday night!” Emerson was walking around the cream-colored carpet, phone in hand, smiling.
“You look like one of the penguins at the zoo, hopping around,” I teased her.
She plopped in my lap. “Shhh.”
“Kiss me and I will.”
She did. Her mouth met mine, our lips a frenzy of pent-up hunger for each other, until her phone buzzed again.
Squeezing her ass, I told her to get it.
“It’s Bev! We’re on for coffee. You know what? Maybe now that I don’t have the restaurant job, I can work at the bakery. I love to bake, and I could fill in anywhere they need help.”
“See? Now you’re thinking. And you would need to live over here, so you could move in with me. Done.”
“Stop. I was just thinking out loud. I’ll agree to go home, make peace with my dad, show you the beach, and then I’m coming back to make up with Bev. Then I can find my mom.”
“Whatever you say,” I said. But my mind was working overtime, thinking of how to get her in my bed every night.
I guess I was staying in this cesspool of a city for a while longer ... but I wasn’t losing my shitkickers.
“Come on. Let’s take Tuck out, and then I have some plans for you.” With her hand in mine, I helped Emerson up from the couch.
“You do?” she asked, one eyebrow waggling.
“How do you do that?”
“I don’t know. My dad does it. I guess it’s hereditary.”
“I can’t wait to meet this guy.”
Emerson snorted out a laugh. “I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same about you.”
Emerson
Well, I was completely wrong. My dad seemed to adore everything about Price. Who knew?
We drove down on Friday. After giving Tuck a short walk, we hit the road before dawn. Price wanted as much time in the sand as possible.
As for me, I could have stalled. The inevitable fight with my dad loomed over me like a dark sky on a beach day. Of course, there hadn’t been a need for me to pack a bag. All my beach stuff was still at home—where I’d abandoned it.
Along with my dad.
My dad sounded excited—or at least he faked it—when I called from the car to say I was visiting for the weekend and bringing a friend. Now that we were here, I saw he was genuinely over the freaking moon. When I told him I was bringing a guy and my dad didn’t even balk, I should have known there was something up. What the heck? Didn’t he remember Robby?
“Tell me more about your farm,” Dad said to Price over a cold beer.
They were sitting on the porch, their feet kicked up on the railing, cold ones in hand. As for me, I was an afterthought on the porch swing, sipping on a lemon water with Tuck at my side. I just pumped my feet every now and again, letting the ocean breeze invade my pores, and watched my dad fall for Price like I had.
A small niggle of worry hit me. What would happen when Price went back to his beloved farm?
“It’s pretty small as farms go, but we have a fruitful apple orchard and a good many dairy cows. We also raise pumpkins, and Mom makes pies and jellies.”
Dad nodded, looking impressed. “I’m sure it’s bigger than you think. Sounds like quite the operation.”
“Eh, I guess. I do love it. Thought I’d be there forever, but I’m adjusting to New York. Hated it in the beginning, but it’s changing for me. Certainly, I never thought I’d be getting a fancy degree. Not sure what I’ll do with it, though. I exactly can’t see myself on Wall Street.”
