“He hated it.” She toyed with the stem of her wine glass. “He didn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t hang it up on the wall, either. I found it in the garage when I was packing up our stuff to move here.”
Ethan wanted to throttle the idiot.
“He didn’t even re-wrap it before putting it on the shelf, so it was all ruined and warped.” She pushed the wine glass away and pressed her palms into the tablecloth. “You know, this type of conversation requires more underwear than my I-didn’t-do-enough-laundry thong.”
She announced this bit to him, cheeky as hell.
Luck was on his side, though, because his jaw did not drop into his just-delivered soup. But he was pretty damn sure it came close.
“That is an interesting visual.” Ethan chuckled and spooned his bisque to his lips. “And you deserve better. I’m glad you’re finding your better.”
“I’m going to have to work harder on the whole don’t-say-everything-that-comes-to-mind shebang,” she said.
Emmaline went in for her own soup. Tasted. Paused. Tasted again.
Set down her spoon.
Dammit, he wanted to know what she thought. But didn’t want to ask.
“Thisisamazing,” she finally said. “Mary is correct. I would totally eat this again. And, truly, I think the crispness to the sticks is a bold choice,” Emmaline declared. “A deliciously bold choice.”
He chuckled again. Deep and low in his throat. “You approve.”
“I totally approve.” Emmaline stirred her bisque with one of them.
The bold bread sticks had nothing on the coq au vin she ordered.Thatdish would have made even Julia Child weep.
Ethan didn’t date anymore, but when he had, it was usually work to ensure the other person stayed happy and had a good time.
Em didn’t seem to need any of that from him.
Which was…different.
Chapter Sixteen
EMMALINE
They’d moved onto dessert,and Emmaline had barely pushed her fork into the tiramisu when her purse buzzed.
Seeing as she’d set her phone to silence with one exception, she immediately reached for it, mouthing “the girls” to Ethan.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” she asked, phone pressed to her ear.
“Everything’s fine,” Mom said, which every mom on the planet understood meant that everything wasnotfine.
Emmaline’s mouth went a little dry.
“What’s wrong?” She turned all her focus from the tiramisu to the call.
Mom said, “Oh, yes, well, Fiona takes after her mother and we have a little issue…”
Em was a mother, so the mandatory invasive thoughts took hold. An entire menagerie of things that could go wrong flipped through her brain: swallowing a button battery, ice skating on the trampoline, sticking her fork in the plug-in, accidentally swallowing the whole fork, testing the flavor of laundry pods—
“Everything all right?” Ethan asked.
She looked to Ethan, hoping he might send her some soothing energy, but Mom was still talking, “The kids got a little kooky playing the piano with their toes, and Fiona took a tumble—”
“Repeat that?” Emmaline said, holding up her one-second finger for Ethan.
