It went on and on, and Jack realized that for all his worries, Emery was carrying about a million more.
He was woefully un-fucking-prepared.
And he needed to do better.
Listening intently, attempting to retain every bit of information the doc gave them, Jack realized he had a lot of reading to do.
He didn’t want Emery shouldering the burden of these worries alone.
“I should buy some books,” he said after five very long minutes of silence as they walked out of the building.
“What?” She frowned in confusion.
“Books. I realized in there that I have no fucking clue about any of this. I need to do some reading.”
“I have books,” Em offered. “You can borrow those.”
“That would be great.” He studied her carefully as they stopped at his truck. “You doing okay?”
“Tired,” she admitted. “It was a lot of information. And I’m hungry. I only had a rice cracker this morning.”
“Antonio’s,” he said, opening the door for her and giving her a hand up.
“Antonio’s?” she queried once he was in the driver’s seat.
“I’m taking you there. Now. For something to eat.”
“You don’t have to. I can just go home and make a sandwich.”
“You could.”
She let out an exasperated laugh. “I’ll take that to mean we’re going to Antonio’s.”
“Good food, and you can relax there.” Iris wouldn’t let anyone bother or gossip about them in her establishment. Emery was like a second daughter to her. He knew because she’d been glowering in his direction ever since she found out he’d gotten Emery pregnant. In fact, he was a little surprised she hadn’t yet searched him out just to annihilate him. Jack was bracing. He was pretty sure a “talk” from Iris Green was in his future.
Antonio’s was busy despite it being that awkward point in the day between lunch and dinner. It was August, so there were still plenty of tourists kicking around Hartwell, taking advantage of good Italian food right on the boardwalk. As Jack held the door open for Em, he saw her attention laser focus somewhere beyond him. He turned to look and saw Ivy Green sitting at a table for two with none other than their good sheriff Jeff King. Jeff was in uniform, but his body language, the way he leaned over on his arms so his head was bent toward Ivy’s, suggested this was more than just a casual meeting.
“Table for two?” the hostess asked.
“Please.”
She grabbed a couple of menus and led them into the noisy chatter of the restaurant. Ivy and Jeff looked over. Emery waved at Ivy who returned her smile while Jack and Jeff shared a subtle lift of the chin in greeting. It was afterward that Jack became aware of the locals in the restaurant. They seemed like they didn’t know who to gawk at—Ivy and Jeff, or Em and Jack.
He knew by the stiff way Em held her shoulders that she’d noticed too.
Oh, they’d all be gossiping about the four of them and what the two couplings meant. There was no getting around that.
“You don’t want to say hi?” Jack asked Em as they took their seats, trying to distract her from the folks who were staring.
She shook her head. “No.”
Jack eyed Ivy and Jeff again and watched the way Ivy responded to Jeff with a flirtatious smirk. Then she reached out and ran the tips of her fingers over his knuckles as she talked.
Okay, then. “Since when did they become a thing?” Jack asked.
Em looked unsure for some reason.
Then he realized she wasn’t sure she could trust him to share about her friend’s relationship.
“Never mind.” He looked down at his menu, feeling fucking exhausted all of a sudden. “What do you feel like eating?”
“They’re taking it slow.”
Jack looked up at her.
“Jeff and Ivy. They’re taking things slow. It’s not public knowledge.” Em shot them a wry look. “Though they’re not exactly being discreet at the moment.” She turned back to Jack. “But they are a thing.”
Relieved she’d trusted him with that, Jack nodded. “I hope it works out. Jeff deserves a good woman.”
“He does. And Ivy deserves a good guy.”
“Well, well, well.” Iris appeared at their table as if out of nowhere. She eyeballed him. “Jack Devlin.”
He grinned at her. “Iris Green.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think you can flash me that boyish smile of yours, Jack Devlin, and get away with … stuff.”
“Stuff?” he teased.
“Stuff.” She gestured to Emery.
“I don’t think Emery appreciates being referred to as stuff.”
“I’m trying not to be indelicate.”
“You’re doing a fine job.”
Emery snorted, and Jack struggled to keep a straight face.
“Don’t be a smart-ass with me, Jack. All I’m going to say.” She dipped her face to his and lowered her voice, “You better take care of my girl and this kid, or I will hunt you down, flatten you, and bring you here to give the very large pizza oven in my kitchen back there a new purpose in life.”