43. Emily
EMILY
When I told the guys I don’t like lying and I’m not good at it, I wasn’t exaggerating. Having Lilith here for the week is going to make me nutty with guilt.
“Nice-looking house. The bushes need to be trimmed.” Lilith wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I shoot her a look. “Sorry, I didn’t know I needed to be on my best behavior.”
“You don’t. I like big bushes.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Oh, we need to take you to get your nails and hair done.”
Holloway pulls under the portico, and Ryder opens the door on Lilith’s side.
“Oh, I know you.”
I don’t know what possesses me, but I fly out the door, ignoring one of Holloway’s men who’s holding the door open, and zip around the back of the car to where Lilith is standing too close to Ryder.
“You’re the famous Lilith.”
“You’re one of Emily’s raft guys.”
“Guilty,” Ryder says.
“Lilith,” I say.
“Sorry, I didn’t last a minute, did I?” she purrs.
“I’m Ryder Dempsey.”
“Yes, you are.” Her tone has dropped to somewhere between club and sultry barista.
“Lilith?” I repeat.
“I’m Lilith, as Emily keeps saying, Lilith Sage. I’m the friend you can’t control.”
There’s fear in Ryder’s eyes, and he takes a step away. “Here, Dakota, I’ll take the bag.” Ryder takes the bag away from Dakota, who scurries after him. The two disappear into the house.
“I think I scared them.”
“Yup.” I eye Holloway.
“Me too.” He smirks and hops back into the car to move it.
“We’ve got to plan your ‘hen party,’” Lil says in a bad British accent.
“I’ve invited Whitney, Sutton, and Whitney’s friend.
Whitney said her friend is in London for the week, and I told her to bring her.
I hope you don’t mind. I’ve hung out with her a few times in the last few months. She’s super chill.”
“Of course, that’s no problem. Is she here next weekend too? She can stay for the wedding,” I say.
“I don’t know. I’ll check.”
“Not that people love coming to weddings.” I shake my head.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s a great way to find your future husband.” Lilith wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“Oh, right.” Or it’s a great way to end up in a shit ton of trouble. One dance. One photograph. That’s all it took for me to be sent spiraling on a different trajectory.
Lil puts her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? All the color’s gone out of your face. Let’s get you inside and sitting down.” Her eyes flick to my belly.
And I place my hand on top of my stomach. “Yes, you must be hungry.”
“I had dinner on the plane, but I could use a snack.”
“Great, Thayer’s chef makes some great scones.”
I lead her into the kitchen, where there’s a large plate of pastries and fresh fruit sitting out.
Lilith grabs a scone and pulls a stool up to the counter. “Oh, my God. This is fucking amazing. How have you not gained twenty pounds?”
I shrug.
“Have you been sick? My cousin was in the bathroom during her entire pregnancy.”
Another shrug. “I’m doing okay.” I grab a scone and turn away from Lilith, who’s licking her fingers after every third bite.
Anders steps in. “You’re back early.” He stops ten feet from me, the invisible force field of Lilith holding him back. “Did you find something that fast?”
“The assholes closed even though they knew she was coming,” Lil groans.
Anders nods, his eyes flitting around the room like he doesn’t know where to look. And I get it. Somehow, it’s not hard to act normal around strangers, but Lilith isn’t a stranger. I warned the guys that Lilith will pick up on even the littlest glances or looks.
“You’re another one of the raft guys?” Lilith dusts off her fingers and holds out her hand. “Scone crumbs, sorry. I’m Lilith. Em and I were besties back at Pine Green.”
“Anders Thompson. I was the first officer on the Rock Candy. I think we met when you came to town that year.” Anders shakes her hand and steps back by the kitchen entrance.
“The year we don’t talk about. Yeah, I think you’re right.” Lilith hops back on the stool and takes another scone.
I forgot they’d met. We went out to a bar with Shayla and some of the other guys. Or rather, Lilith dragged me away from my map wall. When I’d hugged her goodbye the next day, she’d whispered that I needed to hit up Anders. Now she’s bouncing, moaning over her second scone, and checking him out.
Anders clears his throat. “So if you can’t get a dress from them, what are you going to do?”
“I was surprised you even wanted to go to a bridal shop with as much as you’re always going on about fast fashion and how wasteful it is. What about a consignment shop?”
“I thought about that, but finding a dress and then getting it altered? I don’t think I have the time.”
“You won’t know unless we try.” Lilith hops off the stool, her phone in hand. “There’s a half-dozen shops in towns around here. Tomorrow, we go and gather a bunch of dresses and find—”
“No need to find a tailor. I bet after all the business Sutton has sent to Callie in the village, she’ll help. She has a great store.”
“You’re already a local with connections. Of course you would be. Everyone loves you . . .” Lil’s voice trails off.
“Lil? What’s wrong?”
In my periphery, Anders sneaks out of the room.
“It’s just . . . I’m losing even more of you. You never come to New York anymore, always staying in Miami. You know, I thought you had a boyfriend there. And now you’re here, and I was talking with Whitney. She says that Thayer spends a lot of time in Thailand. And that’s . . . too far.”
“I’m supposed to be the emotional one.” I playfully tap her shoulder. “You’re not losing me. And I’ll probably be in New York more now. When I come to visit my dad.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this about me.” Lil sniffles.
“Yes, you do.”
She laughs. “You’re right. I miss you.”
“We text all the time.”
“True. But you’re going to be too busy with your new husband and baby.”
I nod. But my stomach clenches, and I turn away. There’s no new husband, no new baby. And I wish there was a way I could tell her, because it would make her feel better and I wouldn’t have to break her trust.
“So first thing tomorrow, we head out and gather as many dresses as we think might work.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“And now the bachelorette party. Are we going into London for a night on the town? For dancing? Or are we heading around here?” Her nose is back in her phone. “How’s the Squeaky Wheel pub?”
“Not exactly going to have dancing. But I’m not up for dancing anyway.” I swallow hard. There’s no way the guys are going to let us go out on the town. A packed club? There’s no way they’ll let that happen.
“Okay, then we can bring the party here.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I can only imagine a stripper showing up wearing a cheesy firefighter costume.
“What sort of party?”
“What do you think of board games and chocolate milk?”
“Board games and chocolate milk sounds kind of fun.”
She puts her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. “We can do better than board games. Maybe we meet in the middle?”
“What’s that? A stripper who comes dressed as a librarian instead of a motorcycle cop?”
“Or we play Twister with a stripper dressed as a priest.”
“Lil! I was joking. Joking!”
“Em!”
“Lil.”
“Em . . .” She cocks her head at me. “I wasn’t. This is big. You have to have a last hurrah. You can’t get drunk, but watching men grind their junk against your friends who are? That’s like the next best thing.”
I slow-blink at her. Lilith Sage isn’t someone I met yesterday.
She’s the woman who knows me well enough that I went to her when I needed someone to write me a script to break the news to my brother.
She’s been with me long enough to know that, sober or drunk, having a stranger grind on me isn’t my idea of fun. “Lil.”
“Em,” Oliver’s deep voice comes from the corridor. He rounds the corner with his normal grin but drops it when he sees my furrowed brow. “Sorry, I thought we were playing a game.”
“Lil, this is—”
“Damien Whitehall, nice to meet you.” He gives her a quick handshake.
Lilith nods her head at me. “Is this place full of handsome guys?”
Oliver laughs. “What are you two up to?”
“I’d like to go to bed. I know it’s early and the wrong direction to have jet lag, but I was up the last three nights getting my work done for the next two weeks. And Emily here is being a prude.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve heard she’s kind of a vixen these days.”
“Ah, you and Thayer are those kinds of friends.”
“Lil!”
“Relax. I meant that they tell each other stuff. I know your kind of kink is having sex on the sofa instead of the bed. So, she’s finally broken the good-girl image.
Let’s play best friend of the bride and groom telephone.
Whisper me all their dirty secrets.” Lil tucks her long strands of blonde hair behind her ear and leans toward Oliver with a pop of her hip.
Oliver shrugs. “Tempting, but I’m afraid I’ve been anointed with a cone of secrecy.”
“Well, I have my ways.” Lil wiggles her eyebrows at me. “But first I need a good night’s sleep that doesn’t have 3C trying to take the whole armrest. Who does that in first class? I may or may not have spilled my less-than-tasty glass of wine on him.”
“No!” I’m more than happy to change the subject. I’m grabbing at imaginary pearls around my neck. A neck that I know is crimson red from worrying that Lil is going to conjure my secrets like a second-hand magician pulls handkerchiefs from a top hat.
“It was white wine, and only a few drops. He was wearing a Tom Ford shirt. I’m not a monster.”
“But you’d have gone all out if it was off the rack?” Oliver asks, his carefree tone gone.
Lil pivots. “I’m a pussycat, Oliver. I’ve got a loud roar, it’s true.
But when it comes to some things, I bite like a lion.
So, no, I wouldn’t have spilled a glass of wine on a Tarmart tracksuit for taking up the armrest. But I’ve done more for a lot less when it’s deserved.
And that’s doubly so when it goes for my friends.
Triply so for a friend like Emily Ann Rockwell. ”
The tense silence in the kitchen evaporates when Esmeralda steps into the room.
“Hello, welcome. I’m prepping for breakfast, so everyone out,” she says in one breath, her arms open wide.
“Love the scones. I’m not stopping a pro from making more.” Lil’s in the hallway before I move. She cranes her head back into the kitchen. “Where’s my room?”
“Third floor, first door on the right. Bag’s already in it,” Oliver answers without taking his eyes from mine.
“See you in the morning, Em. We’ve got tasks to conquer.”
“Right . . .” My heart slams against the walls of my ribs.
It’s not that I didn’t think that hiding what’s going on here with me and the guys was going to be easy.
But I thought . . . or rather I hoped we might pull it off.
And Lil is already threatening Oliver? There’s no room for mistakes.
“See you in the morning,” I call out, my feet glued to the floor.
“Yeah, the lot of you better get your shit straight.” Esmeralda pulls out the big blender from the corner of the kitchen.
I follow Oliver out of the room without a word. Saying anything would be admitting our guilt, and while it sounds like Esmeralda knows, I don’t know that she knows. So, not a word. The darn heat on my neck and cheeks is enough to let anyone know there’s something going on with me.
Oliver pauses by the main stairs and raises his chin to the den.