“I owe you these. I’m not being kind,” she confirmed. If she’d been only kind, she would’ve grabbed the pre-mades at King Soopers grocery store and called it good.
His expression was one of odd neutrality. “Look, I have to be honest. The girls are great friends and all, but if you’re here to audition for the missus and mum position, I’ve got to stop you there. I’m not… it’s just not…”
She stared, waiting for him to continue on.
“It’s not going to happen,” he finished, gently.
Um. Okay, what?
“I’m sorry?” Em looked at the pan, then back at Ethan.
“You brought me sweets? You saw the hashtag? I get it. I’ve been getting it for a bloody week. Ms. VanRunkle just dropped a whole tray of brownies with her personal mobile number.” He rubbed at his temples. “Every time I turn ’round there’s another woman bringing me gifts. I can’t do it anymore, Em. I just can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so blunt.”
Well, good thing, this was not that. Em pursed her lips and tried to think of the best way to word her reply.
“Um. No. I am not looking to do…that.” Em glanced at the perfectly innocuous treats that did not anywhere say a thing about a desire to adopt him and his daughter. “I promised you Rice Krispies Treats…um…my first night in the neighborhood.”
Were her words stilted? Yes, yes, they were.
He seemed even more surprised at that. Had he forgotten? Could she be that lucky?
“Righto, during your vibrational situation,” he said with a cocky smile that wasn’t necessary because he’d just turned her down for something she didn’t even want.
Dear God, could she be any more awkward? She needed to hand over the treats and evacuate immediately. Then put the house up for sale and run, run, run.
“You’re really not here because of the Insta post?” Ethan didn’t seem to believe her, still clearly unsure what to do with that announcement.
“No.” She shook her head, and she meant it. “I just owed you a tray of these, and now we never have to see each other again. Perfect, yes?”
That wasn’t very clear. She should really explain further that—
“To be clear. There’s no way that I would…” She gave him a head-to-toe once-over. “You know. If I was looking—and I’m not—but if I was, I’d be looking for someone way more not famous than you are.” She paused. “That was a compliment, actually, because you are a handsome celebrity with thousands of women falling at your feet, and I’m just not into that.” She gave a curt nod, pushed the treats at him.
He took them since he really didn’t have any other choice.
“Enjoy your ‘thank-you’ treats,” she said.
There. Done.
She turned on her heel and started to march back toward the sidewalk, head held high and shoulders square.
“You realize you’re the first single woman in a week who hasn’t tried to convince me to give it a go,” he said, loud enough for her to hear.
She didn’t even turn as she lifted her hand to wave. “Well, yay me.”
“I’m sorry, I completely misunderstood. My bad,” he said, sort of trailing off at the end.
She waved again and said nothing, just continued to march toward her house.
“Do you want to take your daughter along?” he called. “She’s still here, eh?”
Dammit. Damn. Em froze right there in the middle of her grand departure.
Then she came back around and marched back up to his house. “Yes. That’s the other reason I came by. Of course.”
He gestured with his head that she could follow him into the house. Okay, fine, this is where her kid was, so this was precisely what she would do. Totally normal nothing-but-a-neighbor thing to do.
Ethan’s foyer wasn’t anything special. One might even call it typical. Average. Light yellow tile met beige carpet. The walls were white, but the furniture was colorful. Red and blue, clean underneath, but he and Annie clearly lived here without picking up often—what with the cups and bowls on the coffee table and a pair of Annie’s socks dropped in the corner with a pile of shoes.
