Halle can’t seem to erase the smile off her face. “That’s exactly what you do, Emma Jane. You lay your cards on the table.”
I’ve never been the one to lay my cards down. I hold them tight to my chest, waiting for other players to make their moves before I show my hand. Life’s a huge game, and I don’t like to lose. But I don’t cheat to win.
Redirecting this uncomfortable conversation, I ask, “Why were you crying?”
Her smile falters. “Well, E. J., I haven’t told anyone yet, so let’s keep this between me and you.” She chews on her bottom lip, her eyes falling down to look at something outside of my frame. Then, she holds up a stick that kind of looks like a thermometer. “I’m pregnant.”
Immediately, calculations begin inside my head as I spout out congratulations. “But you guys haven’t even been married for a whole month.” I blurt the words without even thinking of the implications.
Halle’s cheek pinken. “Grant and I may have slipped up before our wedding night.” She pegs me with a sharp gaze. “But you better not. Wait until you say the vows to each other and to God. It’s hard to wait, but it’s better to be obedient to the Lord.”
“Not getting married,” I remind her, then we both release tired laughs. “But I am very happy for the two of you, regardless of how the baby came to be.”
“Thank you, Emma Jane. I’m excited, too, but I’ll have to tell Grant in the morning, and I’m kind of nervous. I’m forty. This isn’t normal. What if everything goes wrong?” She doesn’t have to saylike with your mother.
I reach toward the screen, wishing I could give her a huge hug. “But what if everything goes right?”
Halle smiles, and it meets her eyes. “You’re right.”
We chat for a little longer, pray over her pregnancy, and then hang up.
Huh. She couldn’t wait until her wedding night? What does that feel like? Is sex that good?
I’ve only kissed a couple of guys, and well, let’s just say they were chaste and never happened again. I stopped dating after the second one during my sophomore year in college. Dating felt pointless. I don’t think I’ve ever had the desire to go further than those awful kisses.
Maybe it’s the PCOS. Another reason I shouldn’t get married—no sex drive.
I let out a frustrated groan into my pillow before sitting up in bed.
Why did Halle have to go there? Why did she have to make me realize I’ve been entertaining the idea ofmorewith Knightley without even knowing it? It can never happen, so I have to bury these peskyfeelings.
Knowing there is no way I am going to go back to sleep, I get up, run downstairs for coffee, and then return to my room to work on my current puzzle while I piece together my thoughts surrounding the unattainable Knightley George Austen.
I’ve never had a crush before.
Zero-out-of-ten recommend.
Emma Jane
Rule #10: Thorough research is required. Don’t skip out on other possibilities outside of your own premonitions.
Abranch violates me as I maneuver along the side of the seafood restaurant, tucking myself low in the decorative bushes outside the windows of the building that give way to a clear view of Henrietta and—
“What the—” I hiss. Marcus Long is sitting across from her in the spot that’s reserved for Reverend Elton Philip. My nose touches the window, and I yank myself backward to keep from accidentally making out with the nasty glass. Henrietta laughs at something Marcus said, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Marcus reaches his hand across the table, and when Henrietta takes it, I mumble a curse under my breath.
They look happy.
But where in the world is the reverend?
Once I’m free of the bushes and out of sight of my lying best friend, I whip out my phone and dial Reverend Philip’s number.
As it rings into my ear, I hear another phone ringing obnoxiously behind me. When the reverend finally answers, it’s as if his voice is…
“Emma Jane, how delightful.”
I spin on my heel and come face to face with the handsome man.
Usually handsome.
