Five years ago
* * *
How did you tell your best friend that his wife grabbed your dick?
Jack’s heart raced hard.
Not even the sound of the waves gently lapping the shore could calm him as he gazed out at the water from the sand-encrusted boards.
An hour ago, Dana had called Jack to tell him she was concerned about Cooper and could he come over. That they needed to talk. The last person Jack ever wanted to talk to was Dana, but he was worried about Cooper too.
His friend had been closed off lately. Worried about something. And whenever Jack tried to talk to him about it, he blew him off. Hoping Dana might have some insight, and relieved that she cared enough about her husband to call his best friend, Jack had gone to her.
She started with the crocodile tears. They were having problems getting pregnant and Cooper was taking it out on her. As soon as she said that, Jack knew she was up to something. There was no way Cooper would blame his woman for that shit. How stupid did Dana think Jack was? Knowing something was definitely wrong, he moved to leave. She stood in his path and then to his horror she grabbed his dick and tried to massage it through his jeans.
Furious, he pushed her off and stormed out of the house.
And now … now he had to explain this shit to his best friend and hope Cooper believed him.
“He’ll believe me,” Jack muttered to himself, knowing it was true. But it was messed up either way because Cooper was the one who would be hurt.
Dana Fucking Kellerman.
It was the one instance Jack hated that his instincts about that woman had been on point.
He took a deep breath and pushed away from the railing. The bar would close soon. Jack needed to tell Cooper and get it over with.
A flicker of white on the beach drew Jack’s attention, however, and he grew still at the sight of the tall figure walking along the shoreline in the dark. The moonlight gleamed across her hair and the white sweater she wore. She held it closed with her arms wrapped around her waist.
Emery Saunders.
His heart changed beat for a different reason.
Without thinking, his feet were moving him in her direction. Perhaps it was procrastination at its finest. Or perhaps she’d shown up just when he needed her to.
Four years, he thought as he hurried down the beach to her, sand getting in his shoes. He didn’t care about the sand. Emery had lived in Hartwell for four years and in that time, she’d kept to herself. As far as he was aware, the bookstore and coffeehouse owner had no friends, no family, and no interests beyond the store.
/> Jack had tried to get over whatever it was that pulled him in Emery’s direction, but as the years passed, it had gotten harder to ignore what she made him feel. He didn’t know her and she made him feel.
He still went nearly every morning to her store to buy a coffee to start his day. Sure, she made the best coffee in town, but he went out of his way for one because he got to see her blush at him every day. Four years and she still blushed at him. He loved when the pink stained her cheeks anytime he smiled at her. And that sweet smile she gave him in return. The way she’d flush redder when he deliberately touched his fingers to hers when he took the coffee. Jack wondered if she felt the tingles rush up her arm the same way he did.
After that moment at the music festival two years ago, when Emery saw him with the tourist whose name he was ashamed to say he couldn’t even remember now, the progress he’d made with Em halted. He’d watched her hurry away after seeing him with that woman and for some stupid reason, he’d felt like a jackass. Like a guy who had just cheated on his girl. It made no sense. But he got the distinct impression he’d hurt Emery’s feelings that day. Maybe he just wanted to believe that.
He told himself that was just wishful thinking.
Until he went in for coffee the following Monday and she would not look at him. Sure, she blushed, but she didn’t respond to his questions and not once did she make eye contact.
That went on for weeks.
Wearing on Jack’s nerves.
Yet he was a masochist who just kept going back for more.
Until eventually, she talked to him again. Two years later, he reckoned he was about the only one other than Iris who could get an actual conversation out of Emery Saunders. And she was cute and funny when she let her guard down.
It made him want to unwrap her slowly, find out what else went on in that mind of hers. Stephen Hawking once said the quietest people had the loudest minds. Jack suspected that of Emery. He suspected there was lots of fantastic stuff to discover about her.
“It’s late,” he said as he approached her.