Not that Ethan didn’t extend an invitation.
Her cheeks heated at that memory. Hoo boy, he’d extended that invite and included a hefty dose of tongue. But that was a little too…uh…real. She declined, also with a hefty dose of tongue.
But that was last night. Last night was not today.
Last night was a sundress exchanged for his shirt. Today was capri pants and a slouchy, pink summer sweater with no bulk at all. Really, the thing was practically see-through. But it looked nice when Emmaline paired it with a white camisole.
Make no mistake, sleeping over was a commitment to morning breath and funky hair and…things that were all too real.
The night before was not reality. A total fantasy. Her whole body gave an appreciative shake at the memory of how Ethan had worked that fantasy.
But that was then, and today was today.
The rundown? Today, after Fiona got home, Em invited her parents to stay for a late breakfast. Then she invited Annie and Ethan over, too. A totally normal, neighborly brunch so the girls could play together.
Barbie took no time sniffing out the makeshift party, and she brought along Cress and Lauren, and that was the end of that. Cress brought the orange juice concentrate. Barbie brought champagne. Lauren brought a bag of supermarket ice because, well, she was Lauren.
Ethan brought the bacon. Emmaline supplied the eggs and the waffle mix. Then Ethan scoffed at the waffle mix, choosing to make his own instead.
Clearly, there was some kind of cardinal chef rule about using a waffle mix when there was flour and baking powder in the house. She didn’t get it, but whatever.
James was the first of her brothers to show. He’d only recently gotten off work, and he was actually relieved to have Ethan’s waffles and eggs before he crashed for the day.
James was appreciative. Who would’ve thought?
It probably wouldn’t be long after that for her other brothers to start showing up, too—if they weren’t on shift, and found out there was free food.
For now, it was a garden party—given that it was in Emmaline’s garden.
The kids were playing in the playhouse, going up and down the yellow slide and through the blue tube connecting the little area in the back that was theirs alone.
There was laughter. People were happy.
No one was criticizing the curtains. Uh-huh. This was nice.Nicebeing the wrong word, but the one that seemed to fit.
Whatever, it was pretty kick-ass to have a little morning shindig at her house after the phenomenal evening before.
Things did not suck.
And things had sucked for a long, long time. She’d just appreciate that it blew for a bit instead of sucked.
Wait. That wasn’t right. Scratch that.
Whatever.
“Somebody got some,” Cress sang as she pulled the plastic tie from around the lip of the can for reconstituted orange juice.
Cress was a jeans and t-shirt person, but thankfully she hadn’t worn her hashtag tee that morning.
Lauren did a little dance to the song Cress freestyled. She was in a summer dress and looked like she might have someplace to be later.
That was food for thought to ask about when they were alone.
“Somebody smashed some cookies last night,” Barbie continued, singsongy.
Barbie also wore a semi-see-through sweater like Em. She’d just gone with a bra underneath, not a camisole. Luckily, the bra covered enough that the kids could still be in the room.
“Girls,” Em hissed. “Stop it.”
