Emma and Margo had decided to get outdoor heaters for their yard so guests could sit outside to enjoy the Christmas lights draped over the verandah, but right now, it was empty as Margo made her way outside. Ben followed, coming up behind her and tickling her sides as the doors closed behind them.
“Ben didn’t bring a date,” Emma said, watching through the windows as the two of them collapsed on a nearby wicker chaise.
Knightley stayed focused on his drink. “Neither did I.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but you never bring a date.”
“And?”
“And Ben usually does. Even if it’s just casual.”
“So?”
Emma’s gaze stayed on her sister and Ben. He leaned in and said something close to her ear, and Margo dissolved into laughter,barely able to get the champagne flute to her mouth to take a sip.
“So…” she pondered, the plan still formulating in her mind. “What about Ben and Margo?”
“What about them?”
Emma turned to Knightley, waiting for him to look up. It took him a moment, but when he finally did, his expression was bored, uninterested.
She wagged her eyebrows at him. “You know.”
“What,” he said. It was barely a question.
She sighed. “Ben and Margo. Like,together.”
“Together?”
“Together,” she repeated, wagging her eyebrows again as if it drove home her meaning.
He scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why is that ridiculous?”
“Because it’s Ben. And Margo.”
“And…?”
His brow furrowed. “And we’ve all grown up together. You and Margo are like our sisters.”
“But we’re not your sisters.”
“Semantics.”
“Well, I think they’re sleeping together.”
He had just taken a sip of whiskey and almost spat it across the room. “Jesus, Emma.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“The last thing I want to think about right now is my little brother and your big sister—”
“Doing it?”
His fingers went to the bridge of his nose as if warding off an oncoming headache. “I’m begging you. Please shut up.”
She shrugged and turned back to the window, watching Margo as her head fell back in laughter again, and how Ben stared at the arch of her neck as she did it.
