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Chapter Twenty-Eight
A countdown clock ticks in my head today, marking the hours and minutes until the invasion begins. I have one more day until Emery's family arrives. Meeting her parents and her sister doesn't fash me. Perhaps I do worry a wee bit about how they'll react to me since, as my wife claimed recently, I can be "a growly bear with the heart of a teddy." That's ridiculous, but I've given up trying to disabuse Emery of her silly notions. No one on earth would call me a teddy bear, though thanks to my wife, Aidan now calls me "sweetie-pie" every time I speak to him.
In the afternoon, Emery waltzes into my office the way only she can.
"To what do I owe this honor?" I ask.
"Your own neurosis." She braces her erse on the front edge of my desk. "We need to talk about yesterday."
I flip through a sheaf of papers, pretending not to care about anything. "Yesterday?"
"Come off it, Rory." She slaps her palm down on my papers. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. That moment when you actually had fun, out on the lawn. When you gave me a real smile for the first time in the history of us."
I remove my reading glasses and set them on the desk beside her hand. "I've smiled before. Many times."
"Uh-uh." She crosses her arms under those bonnie breasts. "You smirk. You almost smile. You kink your lips like you might be about to smile, but you don't go all the way. Not for me, at least. You grin and laugh with your family, but with me, you hold back like you think the universe will smack you down if you let on you like being around me."
"That's ridiculous."
"Ah, your favorite word." She taps the fingers of one hand on her arm. "Case in point, that day in the garden when you were happy until you looked at me. Then you frowned."
I huff. "I did not."
"You did." She leans in. "Are you accusing me of lying?"
"Of course not." I twirl my pen on the desktop. "If I frowned at you that day, I apologize. I had no idea I'd done that."
"Apology accepted." She settles her hands on her thighs. "About yesterday…"
I rub my chest, wincing slightly due to a pain that has no rational source. "What about it?"
"You had fun, admit it. Spinning made you smile."
"I suppose it did. And I had fun."
Though I've said what she wanted to hear, which happens to be true, she seems less than satisfied with my response. What does she want from me?
"Spinning may have been enjoyable," I say, twirling my pen faster, "but it wasn't as much fun as the night before." I catch the pen, halting its movement, and spread my hand over the desktop. "When I shagged you right here."
I pet the wood, gratified by the desire that warms her expression and makes her breathe harder. Distracting her with lust has become my only method of escaping uncomfortable conversations.
"I'm glad you had fun that night," Emery says, hopping off the desk. "Maybe tonight we can reenact that pivotal moment on a different surface. Maybe someday we'll even do it in the daytime."
She sways her hips as she exits my office, in a deliberate attempt to get me hard. It works, of course.
When she turns to pull the door closed, I utter a single word suffused with hunger. "Perhaps."
My wife shuts the door.
But I don't have a poke with her later. The wedding nonsense has begun early, and Emery is too busy chatting to her mother and her sister on her mobile. I pretend to sleep, an act she seems to believe, and wait for her to curl up beside me under the covers. I need to have her body tucked against me every night.
I can't sleep without her anymore.
*****
I rise at six o'clock the next morning, and in accordance with Emery's wishes, I wake her so she knows I'm up. I'd promised to do that, and despite my numerous faults, I always keep my word. We eat breakfast together before I go into my office. This is my last chance for peace and quiet before the horde descends and the wedding insanity begins in earnest.
Though Emery insists on going to bed at the same as I do and rising at the same time too, I know it's not natural for her to sleep on such a rigid schedule. Every day, she yawns frequently, and I've caught her having a lie-down in the sitting room on multiple occasions. She does look like an angel when she sleeps. And when she's awake. Especially when she gives me one of her joyful smiles.
