by Lainey Davis
As we listen to the gravel crunch under Maria's tires outside, Cody snatches the folder from me. He scans the numbers and his jaw drops. "Jesus. Thatcher, come on, man. Look what he's offering."
I glance down, and then I sigh. I could have been making bowls and high balls for years if I wanted that. Hell, for awhile I made all my brothers beer steins every Christmas because it was easy and I could whip one up when I remembered at the last second. But that's not the direction I want for my work. Should I even consider this offer? Ever since all this…whatever this is with Emma, nothing makes sense.
I look back over at the shelves, trying to see what Maria saw about my work, how it's apparently shifted since last weekend. I realize, staring at a piece of dark green and black nodules inside a clear dome, that the day of Emma's seizure was also the day I saw my father again. I tell Cody I'll think about the Clemont offer, but now I have an idea for something bigger, something different. I chug a glass of water and get started.
Twenty-Two
EMMA
Nicole comes over after work on Thursday to "supervise" my packing for the weekend. I bubble on to her about my notes and outlines for the work I'm doing, and she pretends to be interested in my story ideas. Nicole always lets me talk at her while I'm in the brainstorming stage, and I never think she's listening, but she always has a comment that helps me move a story from blah to fantastic.
Today, she's definitely not listening, though. She's rummaging through my closet, grunting and huffing disapprovingly. "Emma," she cuts me off. "All you own are t-shirts and turtlenecks."
"Well, I have a cocktail dress for when my parents host events…"
Nicole rolls her eyes and looks at her watch. "Come on," she says, pulling my hand.
"Where are we going?"
"We have to get to the mall before it closes."
"Nick, stop. Come on. I don't need to go to the mall to go off into the woods with my fake fiancé and his brothers."
Nicole raises one eyebrow at me, marches over to my dresser, and pulls out a handful of cotton briefs, all a bit gray and saggy. "Ok," I say, "but so what if my undies are pathetic? It's not like anyone is looking."
"Did you not say he looked at you naked and commented on your pubes? Stop." She cuts me off before I can interject. "I am your best friend and I'm running an intervention on this saggy sports bra collection. Girl, not that I am trying to jinx this, but what if you have a seizure and pee your pants again? Do you want him to run into your suitcase and come out with a handful of Hanes?"
I mumble something incoherent, but follow her out to her car, and she drives to the mall. She grabs a giant shopping tote from the greeter in the department store and drags me to the lingerie department. We argue between the lacy, expensive selection and the practical, comfortable briefs, settling on some things that are functional, affordable, but sheer enough that Nicole stops rolling her eyes at me.
"Ok," she says, looking me up and down. "Now for a swimsuit."
"Oh, hell no," I protest. And it continues, but not for nothing is Nicole rising in the ranks at her company, landing investors and convincing top talent to come aboard. By the time she leaves my apartment that night, she has lightened my bank account, packed my bag for the weekend with the Stags, and left me more than a little nervous about what she's rolled into neat bundles in my duffel bag.
Thatcher seems moody when he picks me up from work on Friday. His sullen demeanor leads me to chatter nervously about work, which feels weird to do with him since the subjects of my work lately are all related to him, or about to be. He pretty much just grunts periodically as he drives and I run out of things to say before we hit the state line.
"So," I say with a sigh. "What's on the agenda for this weekend? I should probably have asked before we were almost there…"
This he responds to, tossing an arm over the back of my seat and leaning his head against the glass of the driver's side window briefly. "Ty wants us to go for a run while you girls stay back and paint your toenails or whatever Juniper decides."
This makes me laugh. "I can't see Juniper choosing that particular activity…"
He finally smiles, and I feel the tension ease considerably. "No," he says. "She's not that type, is she, Chezz?" He tells me we will basically just be hanging out while Alice cooks her brains out without having to stop to take care of Petey. "He's back with Alice's dad and brother, having a man weekend."
The trip feels nice, familiar, comfortable, for a few minutes more, until Thatcher asks, "So, what if, you know, there's another seizure? This weekend? What do I do?"
My heart sinks. "I don't want to talk about seizures this weekend, Thatcher."
"Well," he protests, looking irritated, "I feel like I need to know what you can and can't do so you don't end up on the floor while we're in the woods far away from help or something."
"This is why I don't tell people. This. There is nothing I can't do, Thatcher Stag. You sound just like my mother, telling me I can't move away from home, can't attend classes in a brick and mortar school because of what might happen." He seems like he wants to interject, but now I'm pissed off. "I'm an adult, I take my medication, and the only reason I had a seizure the last time was because I didn't take my rescue meds. Because I didn't want to disappoint your damn sister and her special lime leaves."
He doesn't speak for a few minutes, but pulls his arm back to the steering wheel, holding it with two hands while we cross the border into Maryland. "Emma, I apologize for phrasing it that way. I know you're a very capable woman."
"Thank you."
He looks over at me and meets my eye, sweeping his long, dark hair back from those piercing grey eyes of his. In the fading light, in the shadows of his beard and long hair, he's all bright eyes and dark shadows. The tattoos on his arm blend together in the fading light until that looks dark, too. "Will you tell me if there's anything I should know?"
I sigh. "I take medications every day. I've told you--this is why I don't drink alcohol. If a seizure is coming, I can always tell, and then I should take my rescue medicine and sleep. I promise to tell you if that happens. Ok?"
He nods. "That's all I wanted to know."
"I’m just really sick of everyone in my life treating me like a baby," I say, looking out the window. Suddenly, I feel scorching heat on my thigh, and I look over to see him squeezing my leg through my jeans.
"I know you're no baby," he tells me.
I swallow, focusing on his hand on my leg, trying not to feel the pulsing heat, the burning desire for him to slide his hand a bit higher. "I just want someone to forget to be careful with me," I tell him in a quiet voice. When I meet his eye, there's no caution there. Instead, his hooded gaze is wild fire.
Twenty-Three
THATCHER
We are the first to arrive at the cabin, even though we stopped for snacks and supplies at the grocery store. I use the code Ty sent us to unlock, and step into the rustic space. There are high, vaulted ceilings with exposed wood beams, and the massive stone fireplace takes up one entire wall. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the cabin is furnished with deep leather couches, and the huge wooden table is set with candles.
Emma flicks a switch, and the whole place is aglow with twinkle lights inside and out. "Oh!" she gasps. "It's magical!" She wanders out through the sliding glass door onto the patio and I hear her exclaim, "There's a hot tub!" I laugh, knowing my brothers are going to drink too much and try to drown each other in there if we don't watch out.
I check my phone to read over the email from Ty, where he claimed the biggest bedroom for Juniper and him "because we're the fucking couple of honor," he wrote. Chuckling a bit, I peek into the next closest bedroom and toss my bag in the door. I feel Emma walk up behind me, and then she makes a small sound of surprise.
"There's one bed," she says.
I look over at her. I mean, I had assumed this, but I hadn't stopped to think that this would mean we'd be sharing. I suck air through my teeth for a minute and
rub my beard, trying to think fast. I'm about to offer to sleep on the floor, but I see her collecting her wits. "Ok," she says. "We'll just build a pillow wall."
"A pillow wall?" I raise an eyebrow at her and grab her bag, placing it on the dresser.
"Yeah. A barricade. Because you can't keep your hands to yourself," she says, and without another word she starts unpacking her stuff.
Fuck, I think, seeing a glimpse of something black and sheer as she tucks her clothes into the top drawer. I'm going to be in a bed with Emma. I'm relieved when I hear my brothers pull up. They rode together because they came straight from the Stag Law offices where Tim and Alice and Juniper all work.
Soon, Alice is pulling out containers of dips and homemade pita chips, Juniper is mixing drinks, and Tim has even brought Emma a swing-top bottle of sparkling lemonade. When Alice plunks a sprig of fresh mint in her glass, they share a smile, and damn if I don't feel horny just looking at this woman fitting right in with my family.
Juniper brought a card game called Sushi Go, and soon, Emma and Tim are in a fierce battle for the win. Emma catches on really fast, and eventually, the rest of us stop really trying. We just want to watch Emma and Tim fight over sashimi and pudding cards. He starts yelling at her about tactics, and she doesn't miss a beat, dishing it right back to him, playing a defensive game. Emma isn't intimidated by Tim at all, and I love that. I catch Alice and Ty staring at her as Emma plays a card that causes Tim to throw his hand on the table and storm out the back door. Alice and Juniper burst out laughing while Emma tallies up the score. "Yes!" she says. "I beat him by 2 points."
I have to catch myself, because I want to kiss her for this, for beating my brother and pissing him off, but I know that would cross a line in our arrangement. Instead, I just smile at her silently, until I hear Ty and Juniper suggest that we help Tim cool off by throwing him into the lake.
Alice pretends to be worried at this idea, but everyone goes off to change into their swimsuits, leaving Emma and me sitting alone at the table. "You want to go change first?" I ask her. "I can clean up the cards."
She shakes her head and bites her lip. Fuck, I need to stop staring at Emma's lips. I want to lick them, and I really can't think that way. "I should tell you something," she says in a quiet voice.
"What's up, Chezz?" I put my arm around the back of her chair and turn sideways in mine, so I can lean close and hear what she's saying.
"So, I can swim, and I haven't had a seizure aura at all, but…it's risky for me to swim. Unless someone is watching out for me." She pauses. Her eyes are watery, like it's killing her to have to talk about this. "Can you make sure I don't drown?"
"Of course," I tell her. I wink, to try to ease up the mood a little. "I won't let you out of arm's reach." Emma smiles and goes off to change into her suit, leaving me to put away the cards and think about long division or come up with some other strategy to keep my cool while I'm in the water close to this red head in nothing but a swimsuit.
"Oh my god, Emma! Your suit is so stinking cute!" I hear Alice fawning over Emma in the hall and decide it's safe for me to go back and change. My breath catches in my throat when I see her in a blue and white polka-dot bikini top with matching little shorts. She is so fucking sexy, all curves and soft skin.
When I walk out the back door onto the deck, I'm grateful for the low light of the twinkle lights along the dock. My brothers are already in the water, Tim past his hissy fit at losing a card game. Alice and Juniper are floating in an inflatable swan. Then I see Emma. She's lounging on a raft, just her legs dangling into the water. The moonlight catches her pale skin and she seems to glow, her red hair shining like flames even in the dark. When she looks up and smiles at me, I'm gone. She has me totally under her spell and I don't fucking know what to do about it.
Then I see Ty swimming toward her while she looks at me, unaware. "No!" I scream, too late as I see him reach to tip her off the raft. Emma screams and flounders a bit. I know the lake isn't deep where she is, but I dive in and grab her.
I hold her against my body as she resurfaces, sputtering and panicking a bit. "My bad," Ty yells, treading water and looking sheepish. "I was just fooling around."
The lake water is slippery and warm, and Emma flails her legs looking for purchase. I keep one arm wrapped around her stomach while I move us toward her raft. I feel her body calm when she realizes I've got her, that she's safe. Ty keeps yelling his apologies while Juniper tries to dunk him and Alice rams him with the swan raft, scolding him for catching Emma off guard.
But all of that fades away for me as I realize that there's no hiding what I'm feeling right now. My body responds to Emma. I'm rock solid against her ass, even after she grabs the raft. She wriggles a bit in the water to stay afloat, but she stills, realizing that I'm hard as fuck. "Oh," she says, turning around to look me in the eye. "Oh."
"You ok?" my voice is low, my face close to hers. She nods. I feel her yearning for something, too, and I almost decide to lean in and kiss the hell out of her when my fucking brother cock-blocks me.
"Emma, are you mad?" His voice breaks the spell and Emma looks away, toward Ty. "I'm really sorry. I just wanted to treat you like one of the family."
"It's ok, Ty," Emma says, returning her gaze to mine. "But actually I'm pretty tired. I think I'm going to call it a night."
Her tone isn't one that invites me to join her in there, so I nod and stare at her as she climbs the metal ladder back up onto the dock. I don't even pretend I'm not looking at her ass as she reaches for a towel and then walks back up the ramp into the cabin. I float on my back in the lake, thinking about Emma rubbing up against me, Emma naked in the kitchen in the sunlight. I had sort of been turning off the part of me that goes right in for the fuck, knowing this thing with Emma has to hold together for at least a month. I really have no idea how to go about pursuing a woman slowly, maintaining a connection with her and fucking her. But shit. I want to fuck Emma Cheswick, and that's bad news. I need to stay here, submerged in the icy lake water until my dick calms down.
Eventually I climb out. Emma is long gone into our room, and Alice and Juniper are bent over some magazines on the deck, talking about seating charts for the wedding.
I sit up with my brothers a bit longer, drinking a few beers and bullshitting with them. When I go into our bedroom later, I can barely see Emma asleep behind the barricade of pillows and blankets she's constructed in the middle of the bed.
Twenty-Four
EMMA
I wake up pinned under something heavy. I twist around in the blankets until I realize that my fortress of safety--every spare pillow I could find in the cabin--has all slid to the floor. The long, muscled, tattooed leg of Thatcher Stag is slung over my hip.
I roll over to look at him, trying to move his leg without waking him up. He's half on his side, sleeping in just a pair of shorts, and holy shit. I had forgotten the glorious sight that is his chest. His tattoos stop midway down his pecs, leaving his abs fresh and begging to be licked. Stop it, I tell myself. This is a work weekend. You cannot mess up this arrangement with sex.
The rational, journalist side of my brain who is just here to get information is struggling to overpower the aroused half of my brain who wants to run my nails down Thatcher's leg. My lizard brain keeps my eyes traveling straight down his abs to the huge bulge in his shorts. So it wasn't my imagination last night in the lake. Thatcher is packing a serious sword in his scabbard. I snort at my own joke, still trying to figure out what to do about being trapped under the long limb of this gorgeous, untouchable man.
Thankfully, I'm saved by the other Stags. Tim starts pounding on the door, yelling, "Thatcher! Get your ass up! We're going running in five minutes." He pounds a few more times for good measure, and I see Thatcher crack open one eye. He smiles at me, and I would probably fall over if I weren't already lying down. His grey eyes and dimples are dazzling, and I know he knows it. He looks damn good.
"Guess that's my cue," he says, rising from t
he bed and stretching. He faces away from me, so I'm forced to stare at his back muscles. The long hours of physical work shaping glass have done him a lot of favors--his body is exquisite. I'm staring, slack-jawed, until he bends over to put on his sneakers and socks, and walks out the door without looking back. "Coming, coming. You assholes better not leave without me!" he yells down the hall, and the Stag Brothers are gone.
I make my way to the kitchen, where Alice has set out an entire restaurant's worth of food. "Hey, Emma!" she sings, dancing her way between a griddle and a mixing bowl. "I'm making waffles. And eggs. And bacon."
"Gosh, Alice. Do you need help?" My eyes are wide, looking at the heaps of fresh herbs and vegetables, the little crock of fresh maple syrup she's set out on the table.
"Nope! Absolutely not," she says, sliding a mug of coffee down the counter toward me. "At work, I do all of this for about 50 people and I usually have Petey asking me 75 questions per minute while I'm trying to concentrate. You sit and tell me about working at the Pittsburgh Post."
It's so easy to talk to Alice. When she asks questions, she really cares about the answer. She'd make a great reporter, and she blushes when I tell her so. I start to wonder what's going to happen after Ty and Juniper's wedding, when Thatcher and I are supposed to break up. It hadn't occurred to me that I would enjoy spending time with his family, and then feel sad saying goodbye to them. When he first told me he was fighting with them and blurted the lie about a fiancé, I assumed they were all stuffy jerks like my parents.
I can see how Tim is uptight, but I decide to ask Alice if she knows more about the fight that led to the ultimate deception. "This coffee is amazing," I tell her, breaking the silence as she stirs and chops.
She nods. "The guys at Zeke's roast the beans right in the city. I get a delivery at the office once a week. Hey." She looks up at me and brushes some of her wild curls out of her face. "Let me know if I get boring talking about food and farmers. Tim says people don't want to hear allll the details, but I get excited!"