3. Emma
CHAPTER THREE
emma
The only way to start the day was with an iced cold brew. I topped off my glass with oat milk, stuck a pink metal straw in it, and settled down on the couch. Yesterday had flown by, and admittedly, it was partially because I’d done everything to put this damn meeting with Hunter out of my mind.
I’d lied about having work meetings this morning. I just wanted to annoy him, and by the way he’d stalked off yesterday, I’d clearly succeeded. Since then, I’d made a checklist for us to go through.
My real job was with a woman-owned marketing firm based in Baltimore. All work was done remotely, although they occasionally liked to try to get me to visit the office. The company was one of the best, and I was proud that I’d worked my way up without using my Madden name for clout.
My father didn’t understand why I’d chosen to work for another company when I could have everything I wanted with his. But I didn’t just want my career handed to me. I wanted to earn it. I didn’t want to be beholden to his power or his secrets.
Secrets were currency in the Madden world. Unfortunately, I had many. Haley, my best friend of almost a decade, still didn’t know how bad things were with my family, only that we weren’t close and my sister died when I was young. Alice and Sarah didn't know either.
I didn’t keep things from them because I didn’t trust them. It had become a default and I liked pretending my father didn’t exist. My stepmom unfortunately fit the shitty stereotype, and had never cared about me. She’d only married my father for the money, and always made sure to belittle me. So, I ignored her. I ignored both of them.
I worked hard, collected a well-earned paycheck, and lived my life being the single, hot best friend to the three women I loved dearly.
There was a lot I disliked about living in a small town, but nothing would ever take me out of it now. I had my real family here. Honey, Haley, Sarah, Alice, Cam, Colt, Sammy, and the boys. Hell, even Bob and Lynn. All of them were there for me when I needed them in ways I’d never experienced before.
The first sip of coffee hit and I released a contented sigh.Donnie hopped up onto the sofa and burrowed into a knit lilac throw blanket. I leaned over and snatched my laptop from the art deco table I’d thrifted from a place in Austin.
After everything that happened last year, Sarah and the boys moved in with Colt and Sammy, and they started building a new house. Haley used the insurance money to rebuild the back of this house and I’d bought the property from her. She’d given me a damn good deal, too.
Having my own home gave me a reason to pick up a couple of random hobbies aside from karate, which I’d been practicing for over five years now. I’d started thrifting furniture, refurbishing it, and reselling it online to fund my manicures and facials. I’d also taken a couple classes in Austin to learn how to fix things, because owning a house meant that random repairs were always required. With Hunter being the go-to handyman for everyone in Citrus Cove, it only made sense to learn how to do it myself.
Besides, if he could do it—I could do it.
Now, I got to live in a little pink house with my cute little dog. I had my found family, hobbies, and…
Still was not as happy as I wanted to be.
Maybe it was because I hadn’t been laid in months. I was dying. The nether regions were drier than the Sahara and I couldn’t find a single motherfucker in the entirety of central Texas who could find the clit and stick around for longer than one date.
I pulled up my Wildflower Festival spreadsheet on my laptop. There was no way Hunter could think of more than I already had. I’d started to make a checklist to share with each vendor attending the festival, along with compiling necessary waivers and a few other documents. I had a playlist in the works, along with an email ready to be sent about renting a sound system.
I even had some social media accounts up and running, and put together a small budget for ads. We were getting followers and gaining interest online. It was going to be a success.
A month out now, all of us just needed to do our part, and it would go well. I didn’t need Hunter at my side.
A knock rapped on the front door. Donnie lifted his head, and I gave him a dirty look when he didn’t bark. I glanced at the clock as I got up.
Surely it wasn’t him. I was still in pajamas. My hair was a mess.
If he’s here already, I’m going to lose my mind— I opened the front door and crossed my arms. This son of a bitch. “You’re an hour early,” I snapped. “What the fuck?”
Hunter’s gaze swept over me. A molten heat rolled through my core as the corner of his mouth tugged. Whoa, what am I thinking?
“Maybe I’m on a different time zone.”
The southern pull of his accent sounded way sexier than it should have. Hot or not, Hunter was still an asshole. “You drive me insane,” I seethed.
He leaned against the doorframe. The hem of his shirt pulled up ever so slightly, a sliver of his toned stomach peeking out. Get a grip, girl, this man is your enemy.
“You gonna leave me on the front porch?”
“I should,” I said. “But come in. I’ll run upstairs and change.”
“You don’t have to,” he drawled. “I like the casual look.”
“Good thing I don’t care about what you like.”
I moved aside to let him in and shut the door. I darted up the stairs to my bedroom and locked myself in. God, I wasn’t even wearing a bra. I ripped my shirt off and stepped out of my shorts, changing into a T-shirt and leggings.
Actually, no. If he was going to drop by unannounced, then I was going to take my sweet time getting ready. I snatched a pink blouse and denim overalls from my closet and headed to the bathroom, flipping on the shower.
I heard his frustrated sigh all the way up here.
An hour later, I went downstairs with two minutes to spare until our actual meeting time. I had a fresh face of makeup, my hair dried and straightened, and the perfect outfit on.
And froze on the bottom step.
This bastard.
Hunter was in my spot, with my dog, my laptop, and my coffee.
“You got to be fucking kidding me,” I said.
He turned his head and arched a dark brow. His eyes trailed down my body, something burning in his gaze that made me want to run. Sparks skated across my skin. I wanted to tell him to stop looking at me like that, like he wanted to devour me—but, I kept my mouth pressed into a thin, cranky line.
“Well, you were taking your sweet time getting ready, so I got cozy.”
My god, the audacity. How did everyone else love this man? All of our friends thought the sun shined out of his well-toned ass. Not that I’d checked out his ass before. Okay, maybe I had. “Well next time, show up when I say to. It’s rude.”
“It’s polite to show up early,” he rebutted. “Didn’t someone teach you that?”
“Okay, by like ten minutes. Not a full hour.”
“Live in Texas long enough, you’ll learn eventually.”
Never had a man tempted me to grab him by the ear and drag him out of the house before Hunter. I walked over to him and leaned across the couch, reaching for my coffee as he took a sip. This close up, it was almost funny seeing a pink straw between his lips, the rough stubble of his face a masculine contrast.
I let my gaze linger. And dammit, his arms were long too. He held the cup out of my reach with an ease that absolutely infuriated me.
In a combination of overconfidence that I could snatch the coffee and stubbornness not to let him have it, I yelped as I lost my balance and tipped forward.
“Fuck,” he barked, his arm looping around my waist.
Hunter caught me, my face an inch from the floor, and hauled me back as the coffee glass shattered against the hardwoods.
“Noooo!” I yelled.
Hunter’s arms wrapped around me like a vise, his breath quickening. We both stared at the shattered glass and the coffee splattered everywhere. I closed my eyes, counting to five before I lost it.
“This is already a disaster,” I seethed. “Why would they pair us together? Why the fuck would they think we can be in each other’s presence without strangling each other?”
“I can repair the wood,” he said quickly.
“Hunter,” I growled. I looked up at him and then became painfully aware that I was in his lap. I moved against him, my ass rubbing over something hard.
“Emma,” he gritted out. “Stop.”
Oh. Fuck. Had I just rubbed on his dick? Oh god. Oh god, oh god, god, that is Hunter Harlow’s dick and oh god, it’s big??? What the fuck— “Let me go.”
His arms tightened around me before I could wiggle free. “There’s glass on the floor and you’re barefoot. For fuck’s sake, stop wiggling.”
My head whipped to the side to see where Donnie was, but he was sitting a few feet away, eyes pinned on us in a judgmental way.
“Alright, let me up,” I said, moving again.
With heroic ease, Hunter lifted me and set me on the back of the couch slowly enough that I could drop my feet to the other side. My cheeks were red hot, the heat of embarrassment spreading through my whole body. I kept my attention on anything but him as I tiptoed across the floor to slide on my rose-gold sandals.
Hunter cleared his throat, stood up on the cushion, and swung his legs over the back of the couch to stand. His face was as red as mine felt. “Sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’ll clean up,” he said, quickly moving past me. Neither of us made eye contact. “Unless you moved the broom closet.”
I raked my fingers through my hair, my heart pounding. Hunter was already in the kitchen, his back to me. I stared at the way the fabric stretched over his muscles a little too long. Snap out of it.
“Have at it,” I said.
I snatched Donnie up and carried him upstairs, plopping him in my office. He plodded over to his bed and curled up in a patch of sun, which was his usual place most mornings. I shut him in the room as a knock echoed from downstairs.
“What now?” I muttered to myself.
I hurried down the stairs, shaking my head as Hunter mumbled in the kitchen.
I’d just sat on that man’s dick.
Everything was a mess. Coffee, ice, and broken glass spread over the hardwood. The edge of my rug was soaked with coffee, too. Damn it. This wasn’t how I’d planned for this to go.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and attempted to make my expression more serious. I smoothed my hair and opened the door.
A familiar face was on the other side—one I’d hoped to never see again.
“Emma. Oh good, I was right about this atrocious pink house being yours.”
I tilted my head and plastered on a fake smile.
My ex-husband stood there looking like he’d walked off the front page of a business magazine. Perfect jaw, perfect blue eyes, perfect blond hair, perfect teeth. Perfect everything .
My worst perfect secret had just shown up on my front porch.
“Josh.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe, my heart thumping in my chest. Although my thoughts were still on Hunter, I tried to completely focus on the disaster that was Joshua Martin, soiling my pink doormat with his designer oxfords. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“The lawyers sent me,” he said with a grim smile. He wore a navy blue suit and held a leather briefcase, his watch glinting and out of place against the backdrop of my neighborhood.
In fact, everything about him was out of place here.
All the reasons why I hated him came rushing back as I processed his words. We’d been married for fourteen months when I was twenty, and it was the reason I’d moved to Baltimore.
I’d seen pictures of him over the years, of course. My dad and stepmom never cut him out of their lives the way I had. Seeing Josh in person made me feel like throwing up right on him.
“So is this really where you’re living?” he asked, raising both brows. He glanced around with a look of disgust that gave me flashbacks to the disaster of our short-lived marriage. “Emma? You there?”
What the fuck am I going to do? “The lawyers sent you. Why would they do that?” I asked, trying not to think about my outfit or house or life . “My dad has my phone number and my email address. He can send urgent matters there. I can’t see why the lawyers…”
He winced and for a moment, actually had a human expression instead of the lizard-person mask he wore so often. “Can we maybe talk inside?”
A thousand knots twisted my stomach. “What happened?” I asked.
“ Emma ? Where the fuck is the broom?” Hunter’s gruff voice called from within my house.
Damn it, Hunter.
“Hold on,” I muttered to Josh. “It’s in the closet!”
“Emma, why do you have pink trash bags? Since when do they even make pink trash bags? Oh god, they smell like cherry blossoms.”
His grumblings continued and Josh raised a brow. “Is there a handyman in the house or something?”
“What? Like it couldn’t be a romantic partner?” I scoffed.
He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a haughty smirk. “Last I heard, you haven’t dated anyone long term since me. Guess I was always the one, right?”
This fucker.
“Honestly, part of the reason I’m here is because I think it’s time we remarried, Emma. This whole separation was just to let you have some fun in your twenties, but it’s gone too far.”
“Emma, even your broom and mop are pink?—”
I turned right as Hunter came around the corner.
A flash flood of panic washed over me. I said the first thing that popped into my mind—the one thing that could match Josh’s venom with the same intensity he was using on me.
“Oh, there you are, baby.” I grabbed Hunter and hauled him close. “Josh. Meet my boyfriend, Hunter.”