Chapter 13
“I owe your cousin dinner back in LA,” Emmy said as she sank into her chair next to Gabe with a contented sigh.
“I think it’s just as fair to say he owes you dinner.” He helped scoot her chair in, which was completely unnecessary but indulgent and appreciated. His arm brushed her
bare shoulder, and his hand gripped the seat very close to her thigh.
After the morning’s negotiations, Gabe had gone golfing with Henry while Emmy spent the afternoon at the pool with her sister
and the bridal party. Still no Jacob sighting, and Emmy was so wrapped up in the spirit of the festivities she’d all but forgotten
he was due to arrive at all. They’d all cleaned up for the rehearsal dinner they were now attending on the same terrace where
they’d had breakfast.
What about a boat? Those had been the magic words during the negotiations.
Emmy had thought of it, inspired by the bachelorette party she’d thrown.
Luckily, Gary thought it was a great idea: thrilling, unique, memorable—everything they wanted their wedding to be, heightened to a new level.
Together with Henry’s help, he’d been able to convince Cary to agree to hosting their ceremony and reception on a chartered boat, courtesy of the hotel, in exchange for getting to use the landlocked venue for their rehearsal dinner tonight, while Piper and Ben got the venue for their ceremony and reception.
That was why the Carmichael-Jameson party had been relocated to the lobby terrace—the second-largest space aside from the venue—for rehearsal celebrations.
Piper had been willing to compromise if it meant she still got to get married beachfront and dance all night under the swaying palms, and Emmy had heaved an enormous sigh of relief.
“You both pulled off an amazing feat,” Gabe said, and slowly removed his hand from the back of her chair. His fingertips grazed
her shoulder blades and sent a thrilling zap straight to where her thighs met.
Emmy lifted her wine for reprieve. “That’s largely credited to my skill for negotiating with difficult men,” she muttered
into her glass. Cary had been hard to win over.
Gabe gasped in mock scandal and pressed his palm to his chest. “Was that comment in reference to me , Jameson?”
“If the shoe fits, Olson,” she said in a cheeky tone.
Under the table, he lightly stepped on her foot with his shoe.
“Ow!”
The lines between who they were behind their screens and who they were face-to-face had blurred so much they’d nearly dissolved.
They’d gotten braver about touching each other. Little nudges, arm grazes. Swatting away bugs that may or may not have been
present but served as excuses to brush fingertips against skin. Emmy took the liberty to playfully punch him in the arm for
stepping on her foot.
“Ow,” he quietly said, like it actually hurt. He reached up and squeezed where she’d hit him and rolled his shoulder back.
“Oh! Sorry,” Emmy said, regretting it at the pained look on his face. “Are you all right?”
He shook his head once with a half grimace, half smile. “I’m fine. It’s my own fault. Too much shoulder motion today.”
“From golfing?”
“Yeah.”
Through his opened top buttons, she glimpsed the scar on Gabe’s collarbone where he’d been screwed back together years before.
He’d told her he’d had pins and a plate put in his shoulder, and the thought made her knees weak in the worst way. She cringed
again at seeing a piece of the scar now.
“I’ll have to take it easy tomorrow,” he said. “Maybe a pool day while you’re getting ready for the wedding.”
“I mean, they probably have a sports masseuse on hand at this place if you want a massage...” Emmy muttered and glanced
over her shoulder.
Gabe was still gripping his arm right as Emmy’s parents returned to their seats across from them. They’d been up mingling
as mother and father of the bride. Piper and Ben were doing the same while everyone finished off their dinners before dessert
was served.
“Gabe, sweetheart, are you all right?” Emmy’s mother asked in concern when she noticed him holding his arm.
Emmy sucked in a breath and stilled with worry. Vera and Frank Jameson were the last people to talk to about a sports injury.
Gabe glanced over at the sound Emmy made and raised a brow at her sudden rigid posture.
Of course he had charmed the pants off her parents. Her mother was already calling him sweetheart, for goodness’ sake. They
were thrilled she’d brought a date, even though she’d introduced him as a friend. The doting looks on her mom’s and dad’s faces made Emmy
want to throw herself in front of the oncoming bus that would surely smash the pleasantries to bits by bringing up any reminder
of her brother.
“He got stung by a bee,” Emmy covered.
“Just now?!” Vera asked with wide eyes and looked around like there might have been more bees ready to attack. But there weren’t.
Only a long table with a centerpiece runner made of palm and plumeria and tea light candles. Glittering wineglasses and champagne
flutes sweated in the sinking sun. Dishware clinked.
“No, when he was golfing earlier,” Emmy went on, her face flaming as the lie snowballed.
Gabe side-eyed her.
“Golfing?” her dad piped up. “Hey, we should play a round tomorrow!” Grayed at the temples and curly haired like Emmy, he
was all smiles and welcome.
“You don’t have time tomorrow, Dad. We have to get ready for the wedding starting at noon.”
Her father waved his hands. “Oh, how long can it take to put on a suit? I won’t want to get dressed too early anyway in this
heat.” He tugged at his shirt, a tasteful short-sleeved button-down Piper had approved. She’d forbidden anything floral printed
or too loud. “What do you say, Gabe? We could fit in a morning nine?”
“Oh, um...” Gabe said, still squeezing his shoulder and now looking at Emmy for advice.
“He can’t either,” Emmy blurted again. “He has... a thing with his cousin.”
“Your cousin in the other wedding?” Vera asked, and delicately cut into the piece of fish artistically draped over her dinner
plate.
“Yes,” Gabe said, still eyeing Emmy. “We’re, um... going fishing?”
“Hey, now there’s a sport!” Frank cheered. “The billfish down here will pull you overboard if you’re not careful.”
“I thought Emmy said you get seasick?” Vera added.
“She did?” Gabe said, and quickly recovered. “I do! I meant we are going fishing off the pier.”
“Well, I’d certainly have time for that,” Frank said, lifting his wineglass in a toast. He gave Gabe a lippy smile and sipped.
Right then, one of Emmy’s aunts came up behind her parents and wrapped them in a boisterous hug.
Emmy took advantage of their distraction and leaned in to whisper to Gabe. “ Fishing? Why are you such a bad liar?”
“Why are we lying to your parents about bees?” he hissed back.
“Because sports injuries are a very, very touchy subject for my family. It’s how my brother—” Her throat choked up with tears, and she couldn’t say any more. Apparently,
she didn’t want to talk about it either.
Gabe read the truth in her eyes. She could see him remembering the conversation from that morning they’d had breakfast in her apartment and putting the pieces together.
He stopped holding his shoulder and reached for her hand on the table.
He squeezed it and gave her a soft smile.
Then he turned to her parents, who’d been freed from the embrace of Aunt Mary and smiled again.
“Frank, I’d love to go fishing from the pier with you tomorrow morning. ”
Emmy almost cried at the delighted twinkle in her dad’s eye.
He lifted his glass in a toast again. “Well then, it’s a date!”
Emmy felt her mother’s eyes on her hand clasped with Gabe’s. She didn’t want to let it go, but she also didn’t want to have
the conversation she could sense brewing in her mother’s mouth.
“So, I hear you two are competing for the same promotion at work?” Vera said exactly what Emmy was expecting. She knew how
seriously Emmy took her job, even if she didn’t exactly approve of said job, and she was rightfully wondering why she was
crossing personal boundaries with a co-worker, even if she was perennially lobbying for Emmy to find a partner.
Emmy would rather have gone back to talking about fake beestings and sports fishing. Work had been a distant memory for the
past day and a half, and she was not ready to invite it to the party now.
“Um, we are, yes,” Gabe said with a gentle laugh, still holding her hand. “And Emmy is stiff competition. Your daughter is
really remarkable. I’ve learned a lot from her.” He gazed over at Emmy, and she almost fell out of her chair.
Now he was reading from a script titled The Exact Right Thing to Say to Emmy Jameson’s Parents.
On cue, Vera and Frank both lit up. Their enthusiasm admittedly caught Emmy off guard. Any talk of her job often left everyone
looking for a change of topic.
“That’s our girl,” Frank said, his eyes shining. Of the two of them, he’d always been more supportive. “She’s gotta be tough
as hell to work in men’s sports. No offense to you, of course.”
“None taken,” Gabe said. “And she is tough. One of the toughest people I know.” His lips quirked like he was thinking of a
secret. “She deserves everything.”
Emmy swallowed a hard, hot lump in her throat that struggled to go down thanks to the force with which her heart was beating. She looked over at her mother to check if she was satisfied with the answer she’d been fishing for. Based on the glow on Vera’s face, she was.
Wrapped up in the spirit of it all—the sun melting in the sky, the decadent meal, sounds of her loved ones near—Emmy couldn’t
have been blamed for thinking it really did matter what her parents thought of Gabe. That their opinion of him would need
to extend beyond this weekend and reach back into real life. It didn’t, because this was just a favor, and she and Gabe were just co-workers. But imagining they were more felt too easy in this golden paradise with his hand wrapped around hers and