Page 67 of Playing for Keeps

She grinned at me. “You’re just annoyed because you didn’t think of it.”

“Get in here before you freeze,” Grace said as she came into the hall, drying her hands on a dish towel. She looked radiant in that effortless way of hers: hair tied up, sleeves rolled up and a big smile on her face. “Hi, you two.”

“Hey, sis.” I closed the door, took off my coat and hung it on the already full rack. I took Emma’s without thinking and noticed the wool smelled like her, making it difficult for me to focus for a second. I cleared my throat, forcing myself back to the present.

The house was warm and noisy. Lamps glowed with that soft yellow light Grace loved. Plates were clattering somewhere in the kitchen, someone burst out laughing, and Aidan’s so-called “dinner music” pounded away – always including a suspicious number of nineties tracks. By the dining room table, a few of Aidan’s friends stood around with drinks, already trading loud stories from their shifts at the hospital.

“Birthday boy!” I called when Aidan showed up, with a huge smile and a glass of wine in his hand. He was clearly enjoying himself.

“Max.” He bear-hugged me, then turned to Emma with interest. “You must be Emma. I’m Aidan. Thank you for rescuing my wife in the bathroom at that fancy gala.”

Emma laughed and shook his hand. “It was a very brave safety pin.”

“Heroic,” Aidan agreed solemnly. “Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home.”

He barely finished the sentence before a bark came from somewhere in the house. Emma’s head snapped up toward the sound. “You have a dog?”

Aidan’s smile grew even bigger. “Yes, Barney’s his name. He’s banished to the mudroom, because he thought today would be a good day to roll around in the dirt.”

“Can I say hello?” Emma asked, already half turning.

“Of course,” Aidan said. “Just, uh, the mud. Consider yourselves warned.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Emma said as we moved toward the sliding doors. “Mud is worth it if I can cuddle a dog.”

“Of course you think that,” I told her, shaking my head.

When opening the door, Barney, a lab-something mix with a personality three sizes too big, bounced up. Emma crouched down, unfazed by the possible impact or the obvious mud. “Hello, gorgeous,” she cooed in that soft voice people reserve for babies and dogs. “Look at you. Aren’t you beautiful?”

Barney quickly threw his whole body into her orbit, his tail spinning like a helicopter. Then he flopped onto his back and presented his belly, as if he had personally invented the concept of trust.

Emma scratched him with both hands. Mud streaked her knuckles, but she simply didn’t care.

My chest hurt again, the good kind.

Barney’s back leg made that happy drumbeat. Emma laughed and looked up at me, her hair falling out of its clip, as she continued to pet Barney. “You’re missing out.”

“On what? Being tackled?”

“On being adored.”

“Fair point.” I reached down to rub Barney’s chest. “Hey, bud. You’re making me look bad.”

Barney licked my wrist in apology and then returned to his full-time job of worshipping Emma.

“Okay,” I said, standing up and offering Emma a hand. “If we don’t head back soon, Barney will think you’re his – and Grace will start a search party.”

She slid her hand into mine and let me pull her up.

The house was buzzing with the sounds of chairs scraping, cutlery clinking, and someone asking for more water.

“For what it’s worth, your dog is a gentleman,” Emma told Aidan as we stepped back into the living room. “But I do need to wash my hands now.”

“That’s the first time anyone’s said that,” Aidan replied cheerfully.

“I’ll grab us some drinks,” I said, showing Emma where the bathroom was before heading to the kitchen.

“It smells amazing in here, sis,” as I joined her by the sink to wash my hands.