the Girlfriend’s Guide to Breakups thought respectful.
“Have a nice stay in Rome.” Annie gently took the beer bottle from his fingers. “My lease lasts for another four months and I’m not leaving.”
With that she swished her ass all the way into the bedroom.
“It’s been fun,” she said shortly before the door slammed, and he heard the lock engage.
Chapter 4
September was in a mood. The air was so thick that with one breath Emmitt choked on the humidity. He took it as a sign that Mother Nature was menopausal and his trip home was going to be a series of hot flashes with intermittent night sweats and unpredictable outbursts.
Emmitt shoved his hands in his pants pockets and took in the yellow and white house on the other side of the street. The large Cape Cod-style house was family ready with a charming front porch, matching bikes, a mini-me mailbox, and a Subaru that had just enough mom-mobile vibe to give any self-respecting bachelor hives. It was a far cry from the bungalow he’d grown up in a few blocks over.
It was the kind of place that had happy family written all over it.
Emmitt had never experienced that kind of family until the day he’d met Paisley.
One look at her and his entire world had changed. Emmitt had changed. Becoming an insta-dad had that kind of effect. And every day he was changing more and more. He only hoped he could change as fast as Paisley deserved.
But instead of knocking on the front door, he stood on the curb sweating his balls off in a hoodie and ballcap, looking like some kind of stalker casing the joint. By tomorrow his stealth homecoming would likely make the front page of the morning paper, and he wanted Paisley to hear it from him first. Which was why, instead of picking the lock and climbing into bed with his smart-mouthed tenant, Emmitt had come here.
Ignoring the sweat on his brow, which had nothing to do with Mother Nature, Emmitt strode up the cobblestone pathway to the bright red door. There was a wreath of sunflowers hanging in the center, twinkle lights lining the porch rail and twisting up each of the columns, and a bronzed plaque on the wood shingled wall, reading THE TANNER FAMILY.
Emmitt let that sink in, and even after ten years it didn’t sit right.
He pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes and, ignoring how gritty they were, entered the door code. The lock clicked open, and he let himself in. He considered hanging his jacket next to the others lined in a neat little row on their rightful hooks. Then he considered just how pissy Gray became over “outside” clothes lying on the upholstery and had a better idea.
Grinning, Emmitt tossed his jacket over the back of the couch. His ballcap went over the lamp, sneakers stayed on, and the loose leaf stuck to his right heel went squarely in the middle of the coffee table. Satisfied with his handiwork, he walked down the hallway toward the loud voices erupting from the kitchen, sure to squeak his shoes on the recently polished wood floor.
Sunday at the Tanner house was reserved for football, barbecuing, and—after Paisley went to bed—a few rounds of poker. And while he’d missed the feast part of the festivities, the four-letter tirade coming from the kitchen told him he’d arrived just in time for the cards.
In keeping with Tanner tradition, his buddies were engaged in a high-stakes game of car-pool poker where someone’s man-card, it sounded, was in question.
“It’s just a few hours out of your week,” Gray said, cards in hand and working extra hard to maintain his poker face. For a guy whose career included delivering life-and-death news, he had more tells than an OCD patient in a public bathroom. “You know how important this dance committee thing is to Paisley.”
“The science club was important to her, too, which was how I wound up spending a good chunk of last year knitting sweaters for penguins in New Zealand.” This came from Grayson’s brother-in-law, Levi Rhodes. A straight-shooter and retired sailing legend who now owned the Rome marina and attached bar and grill, he was also Emmitt’s best friend—and the reason Emmitt had a half-naked woman sleeping in his bed. “I paid my time. You’re up, pal.”
“When she told me she’d signed me up to help with the dance decorations, I completely forgot that tomorrow is my only day off,” Gray said and Emmitt might