"Research," Emma says matter-of-factly, helping herself to coffee from the pot. "I'm getting married, not going blind. A girl can appreciate good architecture."
"Really?" I ask.
"You know what I mean," Emma replies. “Did you just sleep with Griff or all of them?”
I should have explained to her how I knew about his size.
“No. He sleepwalks naked.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened even more.
I nod my head.
"Okay, so it's like this," I say, holding my hands apart to demonstrate the length, then adjusting them wider when I realize that's not even close.
Emma's eyes go wide. "That big?"
"Yes, that big," I confirm, readjusting my hands again.
"And the knot?" Emma asks, leaning forward with scientific curiosity.
"I didn't get a good look at that part," I admit, "but proportionally speaking..."
"Holy shit," Emma breathes.
"Exactly."
I'm about to point out that this is completely insane when Griff walks into the kitchen wearing jeans that should come with a warning label and a flannel shirt that's doing unfair things to his shoulders. His hair is still damp from the shower, and he smells like sandalwood and something that makes my brain short-circuit.
"Morning," he says, heading for the coffee pot with that easy swagger that suggests he has no idea two women are about to conduct a very thorough visual inspection.
"Morning," Emma and I chorus, both of us suddenly very interested in our coffee cups.
Griff pours his coffee, adds cream, and leans against the counter.
"So, um, how are things going with Savannah staying here?" Emma asks.
"Good," Griff says, taking a sip of coffee. "She's already improved our domestic situation considerably. Fewer disasters, better food, cleaner house."
"That's... nice," Emma manages, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
"Emma," I say sweetly, "didn't you mention that we have wedding stuff to do?"
"Yes." But her eyes are not focused on me.
No, I've created a monster as she circles around Griff trying to see what he is blessed with. Griff raises an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the weird energy in the room.
"Everything okay?"
Griff's eyes narrow slightly, like he's trying to decode whatever bizarre female communication is happening. "Dynamics are fine, but I just said that."
"I bet you adjust well,” Emma mutters, and I nearly choke on my coffee.
"Emma thinks," I say, shooting her a warning look, "that maybe we missed out on some things. Back in the day."
"What kind of things?" Griff asks, and there's something in his voice that makes heat pool in my stomach.
"Oh, you know," Emma says, "just... experiences.”
