Knightley leaned away from Emma, forcing a smile. “Yes, sir.”
“Good man,” he replied, opening the fridge and reemerging with a glass pitcher filled with green juice. “Nothing gets rid of a hangover like vigorous exercise. As long as you stay hydrated. Did you stay hydrated?”
“Yes, I stayed hydrated,” Knightley assured him.
“That’s what I like to hear. Emma, you should start running with George. It would be good for you.”
Emma let out a nervous laugh, stepping back and walking around the island to sit on one of the cushioned stools. “I’ll get right on that.”
“Cold air in your lungs, the sun at your back. Just you and the open road.” Mr. Woodhouse sighed, staring off into the distance.
Knightley nodded to him. “Sounds like you should come with me.”
“God, no,” Mr. Woodhouse scoffed. “The pavement is much too hard on my joints. I have the Pro-Fit TRM 8000 upstairs, remember? It has integrated shock absorption and a full biometric display. It measures heart rate and blood pressure.”
Knightley looked over at Emma to find her staring at him. They shared a secret smile and for a moment it was like it always had been, two friends silently commiserating. But then her eyes darted to his lips. A new flush bloomed on her cheeks, and she quickly looked down into the depths of her coffee as Mr. Woodhouse continued undaunted.
“And the screen is HD. Thirty-two inches. I can stream any environment so it’s almost like I am running outside.”
“That’s incredible,” Knightley said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
“Incredible!” Mr. Woodhouse exclaimed, smiling as he poured himself a large glass of whatever the hell was in that pitcher.
Knightley turned back to Emma, who was still studying the bottom of her almost empty mug.
“Emma, do you think you and I could talk for a—”
“Please tell me there’s coffee,” Nadine moaned as she shuffled into the room.
Emma didn’t reply, just stood and walked over to the coffeemaker, refilling her mug and then pouring another cup for her friend.
“Oh my God, I drank so much last night,” Nadine croaked as she collapsed onto one of the stools at the island and let her head fall into her crossed arms.
Emma put one of the coffee mugs in front of her before she took another sip from her own. “I think that means you had a good time.”
“The best time,” Nadine’s voice was muffled by her sweatshirt before her head popped up again. “Did you get a tour of his house? Isn’t it amazing?”
“Yeah, I got there early and got a… tour,” Emma said as she sat down beside her friend.
Knightley felt the revelation deep in his gut, like a swift punch that left him breathless. Of course, she had been there before he arrived; she had probably been alone with Montgomery for hours.Jesus. While he had been tearing himself apart all night over an almost kiss, it was likely a blip in her evening. A non-event.
“He didn’t get rid of that toile wallpaper in the foyer, did he?” Mr. Woodhouse asked, looking up from the avocado he was slicing.
Emma cringed. “I’m afraid so.”
“That’s too bad. The Crawfords had to pay to have that shipped from London after Veronica saw it at Selfridges.”
Nadine sighed. “Montgomery showed us all around. It’s so insane. Just so gorgeous. I mean, I didn’t know any of the names of the furniture designers he mentioned, but Davina seemed really impressed.” She turned to Knightley then, her dreamy smile dimming slightly. “She seems really nice.”
“George Knightley stayed long enough to introduce his date?” Mr. Woodhouse asked, eyes wide. “Alert the presses! Watch for hordes of flying locusts and frogs falling from the sky.”
Knightley shifted his weight, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “We’re not together.”
Mr. Woodhouse ignored him. “Emma, you should invite her to your birthday party.” He announced it like it was a wonderful idea, rather than a thought that was like cold water over Knightley’s head.
“That could be… fun,” Nadine said, looking at Emma as if this were a question.
“Would ensure George didn’t get bored either,” Mr. Woodhouse added.
