Chapter 7
Calvin
"Really?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips as I surveyed the cart. "I said we could buy paint, Em, not the whole fucking store."
"It's just a few things," she protested.
I'd been gone for less than five minutes to get some paintbrushes, and in that time, she'd managed to add a rug, colourful bedding, picture frames, and a meerkat print shower curtain to the six pails of paint.
I held up the curtain. "Do we need this?"
"Yes. The mirrors in our bathroom freak me out."
I dropped it back in, knowing this was a battle I was about to lose. And that knowledge fucking delighted me. This whole evening, the car ride, the shopping, the fucking meerkat print shower curtain, all of it. I couldn't describe how fucking happy I was, and all over a trip to Home fucking Depot.
But it's more than a trip. It's the spark in Em's eyes, it's the smile on her lips, and it's the knowledge that you – you jackass- haven't fucked this up.
"You done?" I asked, enjoying her delight.
"Mm. Maybe." She glanced down an aisle, then shook her head. "We can come back, right?"
"Of course."
"Okay." She patted the side of the cart. "Then let's get this paid for. I'm hungry."
The woman at the checkout laughed as she swiped our purchases. "New house?"
"No," Emily replied happily. "Just redecorating."
The woman reached over, scanning the paint cans. "Hope you kids have a great time. Redecorating is fun, but good lordy, it can be messy."
Em hip-bumped me, shooting me a flirty smile. "I can handle dirty."
I slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in to nuzzle her neck, making her laugh. "Yeah, you can."
I paid and then led us out, navigating the cart through the car park. We chatted as we loaded purchases, chatted as we got in the car, and laughed as I drove us through town to the main street that ran parallel to the marina.
"Wow," Em murmured, her head turned to look out her window. "This has changed."
"A family purchased the marina last year; they're looking to redo it. But Main Street has slowly been upgrading for a while."
I turned into a rare vacant street spot, easing to a stop. We climbed out, and I came around, swinging an arm around her shoulders and guiding her down the street.
"Do you remember Ella Bronze?" I asked, trying to figure out how long it had been.
Em shook her head.
"Well, Ella is a local business owner. She started up the Bronze Horseman a couple of years ago with her co-owner, Anika Sharif, who's the chef. It's pretty successful. Her fiancé only moved to town this past year, but he purchased the marina and is planning upgrades."
Em tipped her head back, raising an eyebrow. "Are you normally this interested in local businesses?"
I hesitated, wondering how much to reveal.
"Normally, no," I admitted, deciding to start our new life off with honesty. "But in this case, yeah."
"In this case?"
"Let's find a table, then we can talk."
We entered the Bronze Horseman, and I heard Em suck in a breath.
"This is so cool," she murmured, looking around at the restaurant. It had a classy, speakeasy vibe that in no way detracted from the coastal setting outside. The fire in the giant hearth crackled away while an acoustic mix of classic rock filtered through the noise of the diners.
"Welcome to the Bronze Horseman, table for two tonight?" A waitress asked, picking up two menus.
"Yes please."
She led us through the busy space, making a beeline for a snug little booth toward the back of the room.
"Cal?"
We both stopped, twisting to look at my sister and her date at one of the tables close to the fire.
Honey's gaze darted from me to Em and back. I caught the subtle move of her boyfriend, Sheriff Tristan Rodriguez, as he narrowed his eyes on Em, his body stiffening.
"Honey?" Emily asked, stepping toward them.
"Hey," my sister replied, rising from her table to greet us. "Emily, I'm glad to see you're doing well. I was going to drop by, but…."
Em tensed, her body rigid under my arm.
"But you've been historically horrible to Honey, and I refused to allow her to subject herself to a toxic environment even for politeness," Tristan said, moving to Honey's side.
There was a beat of silence after his comment.
"Umm," Honey murmured, glancing up at Tristan. "I mean—"
"I'm sorry," Em burst out, her hands coming up to wring nervously in front of her.
"I know I don't remember the situations or the words I said, but I'm really sorry for the hurt and pain I caused.
You're gorgeous and talented, and you were always kind to me when Cal and I first started dating.
I just…." She took a step forward, then faltered.
"I just hope that if we can't be friends, then we can at least start over. "
Both Honey and Tristan blinked at her impassioned words. They glanced at each other, a wealth of information passing between them, and I couldn't help – even if he pissed me off a little – being glad my sister had found herself a good guy.
"I'd like that,” Honey finally said, turning back to Emily. She offered a small smile. "Did you two want to join us?"
"Another time," I replied, reaching over to draw Emily back to my side. "This is our first date since the accident. I don't think I want my sister and the town Sheriff playing chaperone."
My joke broke the tension, Emily leaned into me, her body loosening, while Tristan and Honey chuckled.
"Okay, brother of mine." Honey waved a hand at me. "Get out of my date."
I shifted away, wrapping her in a quick hug, aiming a chin jerk at Tristan before pulling back. "I'll call you to set up a time to catch up."
"Sounds great," she replied, offering Em a smile. "Have a good night."
"Thanks, you too," Em replied.
I slung an arm over her shoulder, and we followed the hovering waitress, no doubt gossip fodder for the rest of her night.
Em settled in the booth, and I sat across from her. The waitress handed us menus, took our drink orders and coats, recited the specials then disappeared. Under the table, I kicked off one shoe, finding her feet with mine. Em startled, her face lifting from the menu to laugh.
"Really? Footsies?"
I purposefully concentrated on the menu, pretending to be interested in the words. "No idea what you're talking about."
My toes wiggled, tickling her ankle, and she pulled back, giggling. "You're an idiot."
"Cal, Emily, hey! Long time no see, Team Jameson. How've you kids been?" Ella, the owner, sauntered up to our table, placing drinks on it with practised ease.
"Good," I answered for us, discarding the menu and offering her a grin. "How's wedding planning going?"
"Horrible," she said cheerfully. "Gunnar wants a big wedding. I want to elope. We're compromising by having a big wedding."
We chuckled.
"Which he, of course, isn't interested in planning." She shook her head, her long dark hair falling around her shoulders. “Add in that we’re a few waiters short, and it’s all hands on deck around here. Now, what can I get you?"
Emily had a slight crease between her eyebrows as she stared at Ella. "What would you recommend?"
"Oh, so many things," Ella laughed. "But if you're really interested, I can bring out the chef's sampler."
"Sounds good, Cal?"
I nodded. "We'll do that."
"Perfect! And FYI, Emily's side of the booth can't be seen from the floor." Ella scooped up the menus giving us a saucy smile and wink before disappearing.
Emily burst out laughing, the slight frown completely wiped away. "She's cool."
"Yeah."
"Are we friends?"
I swallowed, shaking my head even though I knew it would cause her pain. "No. You only go out with women from the club or wives of some of my work colleagues."
'The club?"
I cleared my throat. "The country club."
"Ah." She nodded thoughtfully. "And these wives, are we close?"
I shrugged, unable to answer.
"Hm." She reached for her glass, taking a sip of the soda.
"No one has messaged me or reached out since my accident.
" She pulled her phone out of her pocket, sliding it across the table to me.
"I had a look through my messages and emails.
The calendar says the last time I went out with anyone was just after Thanksgiving.
But I don't have even one text after that. "
She swallowed, looking off to the side. "If I had to guess, I think I told someone about our separation, and they all bailed on me."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged, "I can't miss what I don't remember. But…." She trailed off.
"But?" I prompted when she didn't resume.
Em shook herself, breaking away from whatever thought had taken hold. "I guess this is just another sign of how much I've changed." She laughed, but it sounded bitter. "I'll add it to the list of things to improve."
I reached across the table, threading my fingers with hers.
"Hey," I said, waiting for her to look at me. Finally, her pretty eyes met mine. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Shit happens, but we all change." I smiled. "You told me that."
"I did?"
"Yeah, on our wedding day." I stood, leaning over the table and pressing a kiss to her mouth. "We're not set and forget. We grow, we change, and we make mistakes. The important thing is that we choose to change. And we choose each other."
She nodded, tears glistening on her eyelashes. "When you left, did you regret it?"
"Every day. But I didn't know how to get through to you. Just like you didn't know how to get through to me."
There was quiet in our booth, the sounds of the restaurant swirling around us but outside of our cocoon.
"I choose you, Calvin. But the longer I stay in that house, in this life, the less I feel comfortable."
I blew out a breath. "I know."
She blinked at me. "You do?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "And I have a plan."
She leaned forward, her head tilting slightly to one side. "A plan?"
I nodded, about to explain when Ella reappeared with plate-laden arms.