Page 88 of The Emma Special

How was he so calm about this? If anything, James appeared more relaxed than before he left. “But… in that plan, people still think I’m a floozy.”

He set the bag on the end table and laughed. Deep, joy-filled laughter. What had happened the last few hours to put this level of surety in his heart?

James loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. “Mom knows you’re not pregnant, and she’s excited for us. When you don’t have my baby in six months, that will prove it to everyone else.” While patiently waiting for her to join him, he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. “We both know you’re not.”

James set out three pints of ice cream with gold-rimmed lids before he noticed her stone-cold frozen by the couch. “What’s wrong?”

His mom heard she was pregnant. How did that rumor even get started? The people who worked at Anderson and Associates had mostly ignored her. The girls weren’t talking about the marriage. She and James had never even gone out together. Who would have⁠—?

Her mom.

Emma closed her eyes, a sigh escaping. Janey would have started that story. Maybe even thinking it was true after their brief phone conversation yesterday.

“You’re not actually pregnant, are you?” Rounding the couch in quick steps, James laughed then ran his hands down her arms to hold her hands, a teasing smile on his lips. “I thought I was your one and only.”

“You!” A laugh that sounded more like a sob burst from Emma. She leaned over the back of the couch to grab a small throw pillow and whacked it across his face, letting her one crutch fall to the ground.

“Ow!” James caught the pillow and tossed it to the side.

Off balance, she grabbed the couch, snatched a second pillow, and prepared to hit him again.

“Do it.” He crouched slightly with his hands raised. “Hit me with that pillow, and I’ll put you in time out for starting fights.”

“You wouldn’t.” She chewed her lower lip. She wanted to play… if it wasn’t for her knee she’d have run across the room by now. She narrowed her eyes, tightening her grip on the edge of the pillow.

James rubbed the back of his wrist against his nose then smirked. “Chicken,” he whispered.

She whipped the little pillow as hard as she could toward the side of his head.

The air was knocked out of her as he ducked and tossed her over his shoulder. She squealed in surprise, one hand flailing to grab the back of the couch.

He tugged once and she lost her grip on the leather. She tried whacking his head again with the pillow she still held by the corner—but she really didn’t struggle too much because it hurt her knee. He chuckled, not at all hindered by her efforts.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” She lifted her head and tried to grab the walls of the hallway, then the doorframe to the bedroom. Dropping the pillow, she found a handhold on both sides of the doorframe.

He jerked to a stop with a grunt. “Let go.”

“Never,” she laughed, grip weakening as he leaned forward.

Despite his strength, he didn’t manhandle her. Her fingers slipped from the frame as he leaned, and a couple steps later, he gently placed her across the foot of the bed in the guest bedroom. A wide grin split his face as he backed away from her. “Play nice, princess.”

But she didn’t want to play nice. She was at once angry and excited, thrilled and anxious. She didn’t want to hit James to hurt him, but she hated being unable to run. She rolled to the head of the bed and grabbed another pillow, yelling like a martial arts warrior with pent-up energy as she hurled it at him. “Why do you—” One pillow. “Have so many—” Then another. “Pillows in your house?”

He caught the third, hollering as he deflected and retaliated, crawling onto the bed and pinning her arms to her side. “They all came in the bed set. I didn’t know I was buying ammo.”

Her breaths came too fast, and she didn’t know if she was going to laugh or cry. “Babies are forever!”

James released her arms, smile wiped from his face, and stretched out beside her, sideways on the bed, propped on one elbow.

“Eighteen to life,” she gasped the words. “The enormous responsibility is more than most people comprehend⁠—”

He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Okay.”

Emma huffed. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He trailed one finger across her forehead and around her ear. His gaze followed his hand and gave her a moment to catch her breath. Except, she couldn’t. Being so close to him hindered her basic human functions.

He kept touching her face, and she let him. It was… wonderful. Relaxing. Soothing. Exhilarating.