I felt arms slide around me, and I turned and placed a kiss on Em’s lips. “Hey, you catch a break over there? They let you out from behind the bar?”
“Yeah, it’s slammed tonight. Bunny’s even here. Everyone is back from their beach trips, and school’s started.”
She leaned into me, and my phone buzzed again.
Of course, Moira.
I’ll be there! Happy anniversary, Bruce. See you this weekend, P! Yay! Oh, I’ll bring peanut butter pie.
“Something I’m missing?” Emerson might be younger, but she didn’t miss much. Her eyebrow cocked, she looked me dead in the eye.
“My parents’ anniversary ... Mom’s with Bruce, I mean. There’s a dinner this weekend. Want to come with?” I tried to go for casual and not guilty. Although I wasn’t guilty, but I knew how it looked. How it felt.
“What about the girl bringing the peanut butter pie, P?”
My initial popping off Emerson’s tongue was the worst sound ever. I liked when she moaned my name, her head fallen back, breathing heavy for me and only me.
“The ex. I guess no one clued my parents in on us severing things.”
“Not even you? And what about me? They don’t know about me?” Hurt radiated off her, but Emerson was too proud to admit it. Instead, she turned this fight into a coy joke.
I pulled her in between my legs, uncrossed her arms from in front of her chest, and placed her hands on my shoulders. Looking her straight in the eye, I said, “I’m more of an actions-first, talk-later kind of guy. But don’t mistake this tiny communication snafu for a lack of feelings from me. I’m crazy for you, Emmy B. And no one—not my ex, not my mom, or my fucking bio dad who I barely know, or your dad who I happen to love, or your asshat ex, or even a goddamn peanut butter pie—is going to keep me from falling for you.”
She stared at me, processing my direct words.
“Anything you want to say?” I joked back with her, even though the pounding in my chest was anything but funny.
Emerson looked down and put her hand in mine. I loved this about her. The need to touch, the desire to move on. She wasn’t a psycho girl who held on to grudges.
“I have to work this weekend. Randy is off, and I promised. Especially since we went to the beach last weekend. Plus, I’m also running the bakery on Sunday, and I was kind of hoping, praying I’d find out my mom’s address. Sheila’s been promising it.”
“Well ...”
“Before you get all Mr. Fix-It ... no, you can’t make up the money I wouldn’t make working and bulldoze my plans. I want to meet your mom, but I have to take a rain check. Plus, I’m more of an apple girl when it comes to pie. So, I’ll come next time, when there’s no potential peanut butter pie or the girl who’s making it. ’Kay?”
Emerson was going to shrug it off, despite her obviously bruised feelings. What was that about? There was so much I still needed to figure out about this woman.This woman who lives with me.
I stood and placed my lips on her forehead. “Was that our first fight?” I made a game-time decision to run with her plan to make light of this.
“I don’t know.” She slapped my arm and then pinched my bicep. “I’d hardly call it a fight. More like me being cool and you being a jerk.”
“Ha. Whatever you say.”
“Do we get to make up?” She leaned in and placed a quick kiss on my jaw. “I have to get back to the bar, but later ...”
“Oh, I like the sound of later.”
Emerson
Friday night, I tiptoed into the apartment after two o’clock in the morning.
“No one’s here,”I whispered to myself. “Wait, why am I whispering?”
I’d lived with Price all week, and was already in the habit of being quiet when I came in. Maybe because he insisted on Johnny driving me to and from the bar.
“For God’s sake, the guy makes more money than I do. He shouldn’t be driving me,”I said, talking to myself again.
I slipped off my shoes by the fridge and poured a glass of water before making my way to pee and take a shower. I was exhausted, but still wished Price had left Tuck. I could have used the company and the walking buddy.
