Emily: Sex and Sensibility (The Wilde Sisters 1)

“Khan’s here, too?”

“Of course he’s here, too. Emily. Em. I’m so sorry about what happened that night. Neither of us ever dreamed—”

“What night?” Lissa said.

“What happened?” Jaimie said.

“Nothing happened,” Emily said, and she looked up and saw her brothers crowded into the kitchen, Khan standing just in front of them, and the world tilted. “Not a goddamned thing happened,” she said, and she dumped the coffee pot into the sink and fled.

******

The thing about having a big family was that you couldn’t escape them.

The thing about running was that you couldn’t escape what you were running from.

And the thing about spending the last ten days telling yourself that you hated the man who’d broken your heart was that it was a lie, and as she’d already so horribly proved, she wasn’t a very good liar.

Jaimie knocked on her door. “Em? Come on out. We won’t ask you any questions.”

Lissa tried next. “Honey? Please come out. No questions, I swear.”

Talk about lies…

Afternoon gave way to evening.

Her sisters tried again. They rattled the doorknob, said they were driving into town. Mr. Upton, the postmaster, had phoned. It was a holiday and the post office was closed but somehow or other, a bunch of packages had arrived anyway. From the general—he always sent Christmas gifts early—and, of course, Mr. Upton knew they had to be dealt with. The female contingent—Lissa, Jaimie, Adoré, Jennie, Laurel and Sage—were driving into town to pick them up. Why didn’t she come with them?

She considered it. She was all cried out and she had to face everybody eventually. But she considered it for too long because the next thing she heard was the sound of an SUV driving away.

OK.

Her sisters were gone.

Her brothers were still here but they’d be easier to deal with. Men were uncomfortable with emotional stuff. She could silence them with a look.

Besides, what had happened to her was none of their business. She had no need to give in to badgering and questioning, assuming they tried any of that.

She rose from the bed where she’d thrown herself hours ago. Turned on the lights. Showered. Changed into jeans and a long-sleeved cashmere sweater. Brushed her hair, pulled it back in a ponytail and scrubbed her face. No makeup. She wasn’t in the mood for makeup, wasn’t in the mood for artifice of any kind.

One last deep breath and she opened the bedroom door and marched downstairs to face reality.

The Wilde brothers and Khan, a brother by attitude if not by birth, were all in the kitchen, seated around the enormous oak table that was older than any of them. No babies in sight. Evidently, they’d been put to bed.

There was a platter of huge man-ready sandwiches in the center of the table. Everybody had a big mug of something steaming hot, coffee or tea or maybe hot toddies.

All at once, on top of being in no mood for interrogation, she was also hungry and thirsty.

Emily straightened her shoulders and marched into the room.

Every head swiveled toward her.

“Em,” Jake said.

“Honey,” Travis said.

“Sis,” Caleb said.

“Emily,” Khan said, and cleared his throat.