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Twenty
Mimi assessed Emmett from one seahorse table away, her long lashes dipping to conceal the color of her eyes. Stefanie had been talking with her over champagne while Emmett and Chase found glasses of liquid that were not bubbly or French.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Chase asked.
Hopefully not Stef going down on me at this very party.
“No idea,” Emmett answered. Chase appreciated honesty but he wouldn’t appreciate that much honesty.
“How does Mimi make a simple red dress look so damn tempting? Is it midnight yet?” Chase’s irritated tone made Emmett smile.
A decade back, Emmett had witnessed Chase fall over himself for Miriam Andrix. Neither Emmett nor Chase had been looking for anything permanent that summer. Emmett had indulged in a few very impermanent hookups, but not his best friend. No, Chase had followed Mimi around like a puppy. Then he’d let her go when she hadn’t successfully fitted into the Ferguson family fold.
Emmett bristled as he considered how much he had in common with Chase’s fiancée.
“...toast at midnight and then I’m getting the hell out of here,” Chase was saying. He shot an elbow into Emmett’s ribs. “Hey. What’s up with you?”
“Never thought I’d see the day where you and Miriam were reunited,” he said to conceal the deeper truth.
Chase’s irritation faded in a blink. He was a man in love and it encompassed him and anyone around him whenever his future bride was near.
“You never thought I’d pull my head out of my ass, you mean?” Chase chuffed at his own expense before taking a drink of his whiskey. “I’m better with her in my life. Great, actually.”
Miriam’s attention was on Stefanie, who lifted her hand and gestured as she told a story. Her wedding ring caught the light and winked like a lighthouse warning Emmett away from the rocks.
Warnings he’d ignored since he placed that ring on her finger.
It’s working. That’s what I’m saying.
Stef tossed her head and laughed, and a ribbon of longing tied itself into a knot in his gut. She’d called him a king before lowering herself to her knees in front of him this evening. Every part of him had wanted to lift her into his arms and haul her very fine ass out of here. To finish what they’d started. To take her over the edge the way she had him.
His best friend’s muttered curse brought him back to the present. Chase’s expression was a mask of acceptance.
“I thought your attention to Stefanie over the years was about loyalty to our family. Or to me,” he added with a grunt.
“It was,” Emmett said before correcting with, “Is.”
“What’s in it for her?”
He knew what Chase was asking. What did Stefanie have to gain from this marriage? The way Chase saw it, the decks were unevenly stacked—in Emmett’s favor.
“She can decide that for herself. You know where my loyalty lies.”
“I know where it used to lie.” Chase raised a sardonic eyebrow. “I’ve been usurped.”
“She is the queen,” Emmett murmured against the rim of his glass, unable to conceal a knowing smile. Chase didn’t hear him. The countdown had started at the fifteen-second mark and the crowd had joined in.
Miriam rushed over to take Chase’s hand and dragged him into the sea of partygoers. That left Stefanie and Emmett standing at separate tables eyeing each other through the melee.
She lifted her flute of champagne in silent cheers as the countdown raged on.
Five...
Four...
Emmett set aside his rocks glass and walked toward her, breaching the gap by half. She could meet him halfway if she wanted to. He wouldn’t force her.
Three...
