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“Must have!” Julie said, popping an olive in her mouth and grinning.
Emma just shook her head. “Don’t even. I’m sure that pretty smile works just fine on Mitchell here, but I remain unmoved.”
“Does this smile work on you, honey?” Julie said, turning to face her fiancé, who was doing something fancy with an onion at the cutting board.
He glanced over. “Works better when you’re naked, but this isn’t so bad.”
“Is that so?” Julie said, turning to give Mitchell her full attention.
Emma watched the couple’s exchanged gazes go from playful to heated in mere seconds and rolled her eyes. “Nope. No way. Clothes stay on. Also, why am I the only one on time?”
Emma was pretty sure she knew the answer to her own question. She would not be even a little bit surprised to know that Grace/Jake and Riley/Sam had gotten held up by the very same thing simmering between Julie and Mitchell. Sex.
Grace and Jake were in some sort of newlywed bubble of hormones, and as for Sam and Riley . . . well, they had about ten years of sexual tension to make up for. Something Riley liked to remind them all of.
Often.
As for the eighth member of the dinner party . . .
Emma didn’t care one bit whether he was held up by sex or constipation or lack of taxis.
Except it wouldn’t be the last one. Because Cassidy, like Emma, lived within walking distance of Julie and Mitchell.
Cassidy, who was to be the only other single at this damn dinner party.
“Don’t look so pissy,” Julie said around a piece of cheese, having finally turned her come-hither eyes away from Mitchell. “The group of us haven’t done dinner together in forever, and this is the first time both you and Alex have been single in a few months. . . .”
“Wait, what’s that have to do with anything?” Emma asked. “I’ve made it quite clear—”
“That you don’t mind seeing Cassidy with other women. Blah, blah, we know. And he gives us the same lecture about you. But,” Julie said, nipping another piece of cheese, “it’s not about you two.”
Emma lifted an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“It’s about the ever-revolving rotation of your guys’ significant others,” Julie explained.
“Meaning?” Emma helped herself to a glass of wine on the sideboard.
“Meaning, that nobody wants to sit across from the person their current significant other almost married. So it’s hard to have you both over at the same time, you know?”
Emma sat on the bar stool at the counter and stole a piece of salami off Julie’s platter. “So, what, you just take turns inviting us over?”
“When one of you is in a relationship, yeah.”
“I haven’t been in a relationship for, like, three months,” Emma said.
“Right,” Julie said, holding out her hand and wiggling her fingers for Emma’s wine glass. “But Cassidy has.”
Emma scowled. “If you want me to share my wine, that little reminder is so not the way to make it happen.”
“Aha!” Julie said, waving a finger in Emma’s face. “So you do care that he was seeing someone.”
Mitchell cleared his throat. “Julie. We talked about this. Remember that whole mind your own business thing?”
Julie sighed and went to pour her own wine. “I just—”
“Nope,” Mitchell said, pointing the knife in her direction.
“Fine,” Julie muttered. The second Mitchell’s back turned she looked at Emma and mouthed. “Later.”
