“Did you kiss him or not?” Mandy asked.
“I went for it, but at the last moment, we bonked helmets instead.” She cringed.
“That sounds kind of adorable,” Carly said, a wistful note in her voice.
“It wasn’t. It was awkward and embarrassing.” For a moment right before their helmets bumped, she’d been so sure he wanted to kiss her, too. “And then he gave me some speech about how he’d promised Derek he’d never take advantage of me.”
“Really? He promised Derek he wouldn’t go after you?” Mandy looked surprised.
Emma nodded. “Which was reasonable at the time. I was fifteen and as innocent as they came, and he was an eighteen-year-old troublemaker who had no business anywhere near me.”
“But Derek never came home from the war,” Gabby said softly.
“That was twelve years ago,” Emma said. “Things change. We’re adults now.”
“What are you going to do?” Mandy asked.
Emma took another bite of her cinnamon bun. “Easy. I’m going to pretend it never happened.”
“But you do have feelings for him?” Carly asked.
Emma spluttered. “What? No! Like, of course he’s hot, and I’m sure the kiss would have been great, but feelings? No. No way.”
They were all staring at her. Gabby’s mouth dropped open.
“Whoa,” Carly said. “You totally do.”
Emma felt her cheeks start to burn. “Don’t be ridiculous. I do not have feelings for Ryan Blake.”
“Ever hear that saying about ‘the lady doth protest too much’?” Mandy said.
“Cut it out, seriously.” Emma gulped from her coffee and scorched her throat, making her sputter again.
“Interesting. Very interesting.” Mandy tapped her fingers against her lips. “Well, I’d say last night’s dare was a success. Now we have to keep the momentum going. You need an excuse to see him again.”
“I’m seeing him in a couple of hours,” Emma mumbled, still coughing. “I’m going out to Off-the-Grid to talk about spring landscaping.”
“That’s right,” Mandy said. She and Emma both worked at Artful Blooms Landscape Designs and often helped each other out on projects. “But you need something more interesting than work. You need to get back on his bike or—”
“Remember last night how you said you wanted a tattoo?” Gabby asked. “Ryan used to manage a tattoo parlor. It would make perfect sense for him to take you.”
Emma choked down the last bite of her cinnamon bun. “After last night? Definitely not.”
