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“Nor should you be.”
“We’re going on a hike. Are you joining us?”
I looked down the length of Emerson, decked out in her short shorts and a t-shirt that every so often moved enough so I could see the bare skin of her tummy. Up the highest mountain, down the lowest valley—I would follow wherever she led.
When my eyes returned to her face, her cheeks were the most delightful shade of pink. Again, in that alternate universe Emerson had mentioned the other day, the one in which her parents were encouraging us to have sex, it would be my goal not just to make her giggle, but to blush as often as I could as well.
After the morning hike,that everyone went on, including the twin girls, carried on the backs of Stephen and myself, the lot of us took a dip in the saltwater pool, played on the beach, and partook in far too much food and drink. When we reached the end of our day, I was sad it had come so quickly, and wished Stephen and his family could stay longer.
“When are you and Nora meeting up again?” I asked once they’d left.
Emerson blushed that lovely shade of pink. “As soon as I’m back in Boston, although depending on how long I end up staying here, she may try to come down again.”
“Need I remind you?—”
“Yes, Lynx, you told me so.”
Rick and Rebeccacalled an early night for themselves, and I wondered if Emerson would want to do the same.
“I’m going to watch a movie,” she said and then added, “if you’d like to join me.”
“I would.”
She bit her bottom lip. “I’m kind of particular.”
“Go on.” I smiled inwardly, anxious to hear what her particularities were.
“I prefer older movies. Romantic comedies. Is that okay?”
“My favorite as well.”
She smiled, the first I’d seen since my cousin and his family left. “They are not. Anyway, I’m up to 1958. The choices areVertigo, Gigi, Separate Tables, South Pacific,andIndiscreet.”
“Hmm. Tough choices, but I’ll go withIndiscreet.”
“Clark Gable and Ingrid Bergman. Two of my favorites.”
I watched as Emerson queued the movie. There was so much about her I could easily become addicted to. The blush of her cheeks, her smile, the soft skin on her neck, her long legs, and what I remembered was between them.
“Popcorn? It’s one thing I know how to make, and with a pan I’m allowed to use.”
“I’d love some popcorn, but there are pans youaren’tallowed to use?”
“Don’t feel too badly for me. My dad isn’t allowed to use them either.”
“Why not?”
“My mom is a cooking freak, especially when we’re here, although she’s not much better at home. What was it you said about missions going badly when other people interfere? She feels the same way about food.”
When Emerson returned a few minutes later with a bowl of near-orgasmic buttery goodness, I considered proposing on the spot. “If this is what you can do with popcorn, I’d love to see what else you know how to make.” Seriously, this was the best popcorn I’d ever had.
“I’m pretty good with trifle, but that doesn’t require cooking.”
Imaging whipped cream, strawberries, ladyfingers, and Emerson together, I had to shift where I held the popcorn bowl. When she dipped her hand in, I considered moving it the next time she made a reach.
“What about you? Do you cook?”
Having raised my brother from the age of fifteen, I’d learned to cook quite well actually. “I’d show you if you could convince your mother to let me use her pans.”
