13. Shannon
CHAPTER 13
SHANNON
After dinner, Emery says she wants a bonfire. Russ has a big fire pit surrounded by Adirondack chairs—which Ani delights in correcting me are called Muskoka chairs in this part of Canada.
“I knew that,” I groan.
Malik, who is from Vancouver, gives me a playful nudge. “I call them Adirondack chairs, too.”
Max shoves his way between us, slinging his arms over both of our shoulders. “Hands off my wife, rookie.”
“Of course, of course.”
“Go sit over there.” Max points across the circle, then scoops me up and sits down in one of the oversized wooden chairs ringing the pit, settling me sideways on his lap. “Hey, hun.”
I lean into him, pressing my face into his neck for a second before Emery pulls my attention back to the group.
“This reminds me of summer camp,” she says happily as she climbs onto Russ, poking him when he makes an audible oof. “In fact, I think…” She taps on her phone. “Yeah, my summer camp was like, twenty miles that way.”
“Spoiled brat,” Russ says fondly, shifting her to sit on the flat, broad arm of the chair, keeping his arm around her so she doesn’t fall off.
“Did anyone else do summer camp up here?”
Everyone shakes their heads, no.
“I went to Boy Scout camp a few times,” Kieran offers to a chorus of of course you did . “But it wasn’t this bougie.”
Russ grins good-naturedly. “Maybe that’s why I bought this place, because I missed out on the coming-of-age camp experience.”
Emery points over at us. “Did you ever go to camp, Max? You seem like a preppy camp boy.”
“Hockey camp exclusively for me.” He clears his throat. “But lots of my classmates came up here to go to summer camp, though.”
They compare notes on which camps were more popular in their different decades of life, but from the same prep school circle, and I climb off of Max’s lap, because Ani has pulled out Smores supplies.
I’m carefully toasting the marshmallow when suddenly I hear my husband say, “We should play spin the bottle.”
I drop my marshmallow in the fire.
Fuck.
I twist around and give him a death glare. He did not just suggest that we kiss random people around the fire.
He grins at me, unrepentant. “Come on, hun. Just a fun game.”
“Try to kiss my wife and die,” Kieran growls.
Harper wraps her arms around him. “Yeah, sorry, we’re a closed kissing loop of two over here.”
There’s a murmur of agreement amongst all the couples, and then Hiro shrugs. “I’ll kiss you, Max.”
Russ shrugs. “If need be, I would too, Tiller.”
He says it dead seriously, which makes everyone crack up.
But then Emery thumps his shoulder, and he grins at her. “You’re not allowed to kiss Max,” he says.
“You’re not the boss of me. I’ll kiss who I want.”
He’s laughing at her now. “And who around this circle do you want to kiss, Buzz?”
She wrinkles her nose.
He pats her hip. “That’s what I thought.”
She jumps up. “I need a marshmallow.”
Kiley hands her the bag.
Behind Emery, Russ leans back in his chair. But his gaze doesn’t follow her as she puts her marshmallow on a stick and proceeds to scorch it in the flames. His brow deeply furrowed, he stares across the fire pit at Max, and a skitter of unease chases up my back.
I don’t want there to be tension between them.
I look up at Russ’s girlfriend, waving her burnt sugary treat in the air in delight. I have to do something here to shift the energy.
Just then, Harper slaps her thigh. “Might need to get the bug spray out.”
As good an excuse as any to leave the bonfire to the boys.
I jump to my feet and point at Emery. “You, come with us.”
“Us?” Kiley asks, immediately standing with me. I love her for that.
Harper, Ani, and Becca promptly follow suit.
“Us,” I confirm. Then I turn to Russ. “Do you have a wine cellar here in this palatial cottage?”
“Yeah, there’s the start of one, anyway. Through the kitchen pantry.”
“Good. We’re going to destroy it. Girls, let's go. Leave them to their kissing games or whatever they want to talk about. We have Emery Granger to get to know better.”
The woman of honour claps her hands together and squeals, and Russ gives me a slow nod of approval. Finally, I feel like for the first time all day, I've done something actually right, because Russ looks happy with me.
Emery must read his expression differently, because she stops and gives him a reassuring pat on the cheek.
“It’s okay, buttercup,” she says sweetly. “I can handle the WAG gauntlet. My mom and sisters-in-law were all WAGs. I’ve trained for this.”
“She makes us sound so menacing,” I say in a stage whisper to Kiley.
“Not us,” she whispers back. “Her brother’s wives, though, might be monsters.”
Emery tips her head back and laughs. “Definitely not the wives that were the problem. But that’s a story for after we find the wine.”
It doesn’t take long to affirm that my decision to bring her deeper into our circle to ward off whatever that weird energy was with Russ was definitely the right call.
Emery Granger is a fucking delight. First, she finds us a bottle of white wine and expertly opens it, pouring us each a glass before saying, “What do you need to know about me?”
Straight and to the point.
I go first. “How long have you known Russell?”
Her gaze flicks to my face, curiosity and bald assessment equally present. Maybe this grilling with go both ways.
She thinks about for a second. “Almost seven years?”
Kiley and Harper exchange a look, clearly doing math on her age and Russ’s age.
I clear my throat delicately. “And was it…a crush from the start, maybe?”
Emery snorts. “God, no.”
We all laugh.
Then she blushes. “I mean, for a very long time, Russ was just…Rusty. On some levels, he’s still that guy.” She glances my way. “And old, no offence.”
“None taken,” I say dryly. “Although to be clear, I’m not as old as he is.”
Her pink cheeks turn scarlet. “I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s fine.” I wave my hand. “So when did it change?”
“Very recently.” She presses her lips together. “Very, very recently. And we’re not, like…exclusive.” She looks at me for a long second, as if she needs to make sure I don’t judge her for that. “We live in totally different countries, you know? If the right person comes along and sweeps him off his feet, I’ll be happy for them. I’m not a jealous human being.”
I laugh lightly to cover up the wave of relief I feel that Russ isn’t a hot second away from requesting a trade to be closer to his girlfriend. “Got it. That’s cool.”
She smiles brightly. “So we were friends first, and that feels like a better foundation for a relationship than anything else I tried in the past.”
Kiley lifts her glass in the air. “Cheers to that.”
Great. Even Russ’s week-old relationship is healthier than mine. “Now that we’re not getting interrupted,” I say dryly. “Is there anything you want to know from us? Anything Highlanders specific?”
“All the hockey stuff is pretty familiar to me. Ummm…” She takes a long sip of wine. “Look, we don’t need to…” She wiggles her fingers back and forth. “I know the score. You guys are genuinely lovely. But the sorority of WAGs only exists as long as the hockey player boyfriend or husband in question decrees it to be so, and Russ and I are still pretty new and pretty casual. You won’t need to add me to a group chat, you know?”
I frown. “Russ won’t string you along.”
“I know.” She beams. “No, I really, really do know that. But I have four older brothers who also play in the league. The oldest has been married three times. My sisters-in-law are not monsters,” she clarifies to peels of laughter. “But I know how it is. He says when I’m added to the group texts, and he says when I’m taken off it, which isn’t a game I want to play. So I’d rather you get to know me as Camden Granger’s little sister, rather than Russ Armstrong’s girlfriend. The former is forever, and the latter, while nice, is…who knows? But Rusty and I are also BFFs whether he likes it or not. So I might haunt you all, anyway.”
“Ah,” Harper says seriously. “So you’re the monster.”
Emery cracks up.
Ani grabs another bottle of wine. “Okay, so I have some questions about growing up in the NHL, in that case.”
“On that topic, I am an open book,” Emery says, leaning back against the wall. “What do you want to know?”