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Keeping me at arm’s length, Emma takes in my dress and heels, laughs again, and says, “Nope, you don’t look like a mountain woman. You still look like you.”
I laugh again.
“You should see her in her boots,” Briggs volunteers.
“You bought boots?”
“Yep, as someone here so eloquently schooled me on the importance of keeping my feet and legs away from the ticks.”
“Oh, I didn’t even think to warn you about those. We have our yard at the lake house sprayed, so they really aren’t a problem.”
“Well, I think my yard might be too large. I could look into just the area around the house, but I’ve also had deer hanging around too.”
And with this comment, Emma moves back to Clay’s side and now gives Briggs a once-over. In fact, we all turn to look at him because he knows what he did, and now he knows my friends do too. He smirks at me, which causes me to blush, and moves to stand next to me. His hand comes up to rest on my lower back, and I feel branded.
“So you’re Briggs,” she says, eyeing him like he’s a rare bird being spotted in the wild.
“And you’re Emma,” he says politely.
They continue to eye each other in a stare down, and I laugh openly because I know both of them enough to know that neither will back down. But then Briggs does graciously, and Emma smiles victoriously.
“I made this for you,” she says, holding out a silver gift bag to Briggs and shaking it. I don’t know where it came from. Clay must have been holding it.
He takes it cautiously while uncomfortable at the same time. Internally, I rejoice because I’m certain he thinks this might be another prank. I made that comment the other day in the kitchen, and I know he’s smart enough to be on the constant lookout.
“Do you want me to open it?” He looks between her and Clay.
“Sure.” She beams up at him, and Clay just smirks. This has me smiling too because he for sure thinks it’s a prank now.
Poor guy.
Moving the tissue paper to the side, he pulls out a small-to-medium-sized gray knitted sweater.
“It’s for Duke,” she says proudly.
“Thank you,” he mutters, looking at it like he has no idea what it is.
I lean in close and whisper loudly, “It’s a sweater.”
“Oh,” he mumbles, then smiles at her. It’s one of those smiles that I’ve rarely seen from him. “He’ll like it. We’ve already had a few very cool mornings, and winter hasn’t even started. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I made it myself, so there might be a few imperfections, but whatever. Duke won’t know.” Emma is all smiles. She can’t help herself; she’s always happy and loves to knit gifts for people.
“Here, give it to me,” I say to Briggs, walking the bag back to the car. The driver rolls down the window closest to me and leans across the passenger seat to take it. “There,” I say. “He’ll put it with our things at my condo while we’re at my parents’.”
At the mention of my condo, one corner of his mouth tips up, and his gaze drifts to my mouth. Oh, to be in his mind right now. My legs squeeze together just thinking about the night ahead of us.
Pivoting to face Emma and Clay, I need to turn off the sexy thoughts and turn the conversation to something new. “How many times has she dragged you here?” I ask Clay, and he just smiles.
“More than he probably cares to,” Emma chimes in, but she doesn’t look guilty over this; she looks triumphant.
“Nah, I think the food is good. I don’t mind,” he says, looking down at her affectionately.
People are passing us on the street. Whether or not they recognize any of us, no one says a thing or stops to take a photo. It’s nice to be out and not feel that immense pressure. Then again, the clouds just rumbled, and the smell of rain is on its way, so they might be trying to get where they’re going before the sky opens up.
“Lead the way,” I tell them, and Clay and Emma turn for the door.
Briggs’s hand stays securely on my back, and I like it. I wonder if he’s going to touch me all evening? That’s kind of how we interacted at his brother’s party, so I imagine we will. Only this time, when he touches me, I won’t be wondering what it feels like to have his fingers tangled in my hair. I’ll be wondering what it’s like to have them touch every other inch of me.
