Chapter Eighteen
Eighteen
Will’s last day of work was a double shift. He arrived home exhausted, his mind whirling with a strange combination of regret and relief. Yes, he was leaving his dream career behind, but at least that meant he was free to help Emmy explore escape options.
Speaking of Emmy, she was asleep when he got home.
On the couch. Had she tried to wait up for him?
He stood for a moment just looking at her, curled up on the couch, snoring softly.
Was it bad that he found her snoring cute?
There were very few things he disliked about this woman.
She’d taken a hard hit with the last relationship, but he—
Will stopped himself before he could finish that thought.
Had he really been about to think of himself as a potential real boyfriend for Emmy? How could that possibly work?
It couldn’t, of course. That was the answer, plain and simple.
And it caused a wave of bitterness to wash over him, mixing with the regret that already lingered from the sendoff his coworkers had given him at the end of his shift.
Jared had brought a cake that Bright had baked and decorated to look like an IV bag. Everyone had signed a card.
Disgusted with himself, Will carefully lifted Emmy off the couch and brought her to her room.
He slipped her into bed, and she didn’t stir once.
Just kept on with her cute snores. Will wanted to linger, so he made himself leave.
Except he detoured to the kitchen on his way to the bathroom.
A glass of whiskey kept him company in the shower, and then he hit the mattress and conked out.
*
Emmy woke up in bed and blinked until her eyes adjusted to the morning light.
Had she fallen asleep here? No, she’d been on the couch.
It was coming back to her now. She knew Will was working a double shift, and she’d been hoping…
God, she had to be honest with herself. She had been hoping to head him off before he “celebrated” being done with his job by polishing off one or more of the bottles that were on top of the fridge.
The plan had been to encourage him to shower and then—if he didn’t want to sleep—she’d been ready to watch late night television and discuss the impending parental visit.
Instead, she’d fallen asleep before he’d gotten home.
Whoops.
He must have carried her to bed. Her heart wanted to clench and her brain wanted to squee.
She would not allow that. No heart clenches.
No squeeing. So what if Andrew would have definitely left her sleeping on the couch?
And, yeah, she wouldn’t have minded if she’d woken up while Will was carrying her so she could enjoy the sensation of his strong arms surrounding her.
But she needed to put a kibosh on all these wayward thoughts and… tingles.
When she got to the kitchen for breakfast, Will wasn’t there.
She guessed he was still sleeping off his double shift.
That meant she had time to scrutinize the bottles on the fridge.
They didn’t look emptier, but it was hard to tell.
Wait… the whiskey. Yesterday the liquid had been above the label.
Now it was a little below. Worries crowded Emmy’s mind.
Not to mention the guilt she felt over the fact that Will was spiraling as a direct result of her appearance in his life.
Maybe it was time to Google some intervention strategies.
His parents were coming tonight, though, so she’d have to wait on talking to him.
It wasn’t like she could bring his parents in on the intervention.
Hi! Nice to meet you! I’m your son’s fake girlfriend. Anyway, would you mind joining me this evening in discussing my growing concerns about your son’s reliance on alcohol as a coping mechanism?
Yeah, not a great idea.
“What’s the strategy?”
Emmy jumped at the sound of Will’s voice. She’d been lost in thought, standing in the middle of his kitchen. If he asked what she was doing, she’d be hard pressed to come up with a believable explanation.
“Strategy?” she repeated dumbly. For a fleeting moment, she thought he was asking about his own intervention.
“For the parental dinner,” he clarified.
“I figured I would cook something. My mom usually brings dessert from this bakery she likes, so that’s covered.
” His eyes found the bottles on the fridge.
Emmy actually worried for a second that he was considering a drink before he said, “My dad likes gin and tonics, but my mom’s a wine drinker.
We can pick her up a bottle.” He scanned the room, then nodded.
“Yeah, dinner and wine. That should cover it, don’t you think? ”
Emmy didn’t know. She wasn’t exactly an expert on meeting the parents. Plus, these were romance novel parents. Maybe they had different standards?
“I can give the house a once over,” she offered, trying to remember if she’d left any of her underwear in the bathroom. “Make everything nice and pretty for company. Do you have any candles?”
Will furrowed his brow. “I have Gordon if you need a light. Where are you going? The attic?”
Emmy let out a surprised laugh and shook her head in disbelief. “Decor, Will. Candles make nice decor. It’s literally the root of ‘decorate.’”
“Oh. Right.”
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you don’t have any pretty candles with subtle, tasteful scents lying around.”
“Good guess.”
“Right. I’ll make do without.”
“We’ve got time, and I still have to grab food for dinner. Make a list and I’ll take you to the candle store before we go grocery shopping.”
“The candle store?”
Will stepped up to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
She very deliberately clamped down on any and all warm tingles that might have resulted from the contact.
“Emmy, it’s time for me to confess everything.
Not only do I not own candles, I don’t even know where candles could be purchased.
I have never once in my life bought a candle.
I hope our relationship won’t suffer too horribly now that you know the truth. ”
“Will.” Emmy put a hand on his bicep, squeezed. Couldn’t help thinking, Wow, that is a firm bicep. “I forgive you all your flaws. And I bet Bright sells candles.”
“Oh yeah. They might be weird, though. She doesn’t seem like the type to sell traditional smelling candles… like… peaches and cream or whatever.”
Emmy shrugged. “We’ll make it work. If your parents comment, we’ll say we’re supporting a local business.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He dropped his hands and made his way to the fridge to hunt for breakfast. “That reminds me, my parents weren’t the only ones to try to set up dinner plans with us this week. Jared and Bright also extended an invitation.”
“Jared and Bright? As in… Jared and Bright together? They’re already at the dinner-invitation-from-both-of-us stage of the relationship?”
“Apparently.”
“That is so weird. Maybe we should go and both of us can just talk endlessly about jellyfish. See if either of them notices.”
His laugh was strained. “Let’s just get through this thing with my parents first. Try to keep sea creatures out of the discussion for now.”
“I’ll do my best.”
A short drive later, they were back in Bright Ideas looking at a display of handmade candles.
The glass containers were artfully arranged on a counter along with paperweights that looked for all the world like…
yep, they were glass boobs. They looked handmade.
Will resisted the urge to run his finger over a surprisingly realistic nipple.
“Maybe this one?” Emmy said. He turned to see her holding a green candle with three wicks sticking out of it. She gave it a sniff, shrugged, and offered it up to him. “What do you think?”
He obliged her even though he couldn’t have cared less what scent of candle she purchased. “It’s fine. What is that? It smells like…”
“Mojito,” Emmy confirmed. “I like it. But maybe it’s the wrong vibe for a meet-the-parents meal?” She put the lid back on the candle and selected another one that was a rich reddish brown color. After a sniff, she smiled with satisfaction. “This is the one. Masala chai. Very subtle and homey.”
She grabbed two large candles and they headed up the counter. Bright greeted them with a genuine smile.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were here. Did Jared remember to invite you guys out? We’re free tonight if you don’t have anything going on.”
“He mentioned it,” Will told her. “But we have to rain check. My parents are coming to our place for dinner tonight.”
“Exciting!” She took the candles from Emmy and began wrapping them in gold-accented tissue paper. “Well, it’s an open invitation. Seriously, I need very little notice. Just let us know when would be good for you.”
“For sure,” Emmy said. “Thanks for the invite. I’m glad things are going so well between you and Jared.”
“Oh, me, too. I can’t believe how well we clicked. It was just…” She did a happy shoulder wiggle. “… like a key in a lock. Instant connection. I’m definitely feeling saucy, sassy, and fancy these days.”
She totaled up the two candles and Will had to swallow several remarks that popped into his head when he saw that they cost thirty-five dollars apiece. It wasn’t like it was real money. For once, the knowledge that his world was fictional came as a comfort to him.
They said goodbye to the woman who was once supposed to be his soulmate and headed to the grocery store. After some brief deliberation, Will decided to make sweet potato fritters with goat cheese and a green salad with bacon crumbles.
“Damn. You’re pulling out all the stops,” Emmy commented. “You’re actually buying lettuce. I don’t know if I have ever bought actual lettuce.”
“What have you been buying? Fake lettuce?”
“No, I mean, I buy bagged salads. Premade stuff.”
“Oh, yeah. I usually do that, too, but this is a special occasion.”
“Can I help you cook?” Emmy asked. “I wouldn’t mind learning how to treat real lettuce right.”
“Sure. It’s a pretty simple meal.”
“Says you.”
Will bumped her gently with his elbow. “Trust me. Before the night ends, you will be an expert on real lettuce.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”