And even though this was the weirdest thing to wake up to, it’s also really sweet.
Thoughtful.
Maybe Emerson and I won’t end up being best friends but we could befriends,and he trusts her and that alone has medropping onto the stool next to her. She bumps her shoulder into mine and grins.
“This is myfavorite.Isla and I were spoiled there for a while.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, swallowing my own bite and the accompanying moan becausewow, this is good.
“We did family dinners a lot with my cousin and Uncle Cullen, Tom, and Royce. Oakey would cook and?—”
“Oakey, huh?” I tease and he points his fork at me.
“No. The only two that get away with it are Emerson and Isla.”
Emerson giggles as she shoves another bite into her mouth. “He’s so easy to rile up.”
He sighs but it’s full of affection and my heart squeezes, a tendril of jealousy floating through my veins.
Why can’t I have that?
It’s a question with a complicated answer and one I won’t be able come up with tonight…and that’s okay.
Because tonight, I’m going to enjoy whateverthisis, for as long as I can.
“Twist it like this,”Emerson snaps at Tom, holding the twist tie in her hand and exaggerating the movement as I try, and fail, not to laugh.
He glares at me. “My hands are too big. Give me the bookmarks and the other things andyou,” he says pointedly at her, “can tie the bags when they’re ready.”
“Fine.” She huffs and then winks at me and there’s no question about how she’s so successful in what she does.
She’s charismatic and stunning yet still sonice.
We joke and laugh as we fill the bags, sorting them for the two school events and then Saturday’s signing. It takes hours but not nearly as long as it would have taken me to do them by myself.
I like the company, and no matter what happens once all this is done, I can’t go back to the isolation. I’ll join a book club or something.
Meet people.
Put myself out there.
Because I can just be Kat Harrington, lover of scones and homemade sandwich bread, killer of all plants despite howhardythey are, and hopeless romantic despite my heart having been trampled time and time again.
“I cannot thank you enough for all your help,” I tell Emerson, my heart damn near bursting out of my chest.
Because I mean it.
“It was so much fun and we’ll have to get together when you’re free. Do you like weekend brunch? My cousin and I used to go, but she moved and fell in love and has babies with a huge behemoth of a man.”
Tom sighs and I can’t help but giggle as I hand her the stack of books I just signed for Isla. It was the only thing she was willing to take as payment for the hours we spent dealing with stuck-together bookmarks, bags that wouldn’t open, and of course the little twist ties that had Tom cursing up a storm all night.
“I would love that,” I tell her, warmth spreading through me at the invitation. She takes my number and we say goodbye, Tom walking her out with the leftover pasta and a shake of his head.
“Got everything you need?” he asks when he reappears in the kitchen, after engaging the locks and the alarm with a fluidity that’s oddly sexy.
“Yes, thank you. Tonight was…perfect. I needed it and Emerson is amazing.”
“She and Isla gave me hell as they were growing up…never let me be too serious.”
