up enough to find reasons not to work out. And that's not the point."
"Okay. Why are you mad at me?"
"I'm not mad at you. You're the one who's mad at me."
"Then say you're sorry and all's forgiven." Mac opened the door and sailed out.
"Why should I be sorry? I stopped." Emma slammed the door behind them.
"Stopped what?"
"Stopped . . ." Groaning, she pressed her fingers to her eyes. "It's caffeine deprivation. My mind's blurring. I'm starting in the middle. Or maybe the end."
"I demand to know why I'm mad at you so I can put some effort into it. You bitch."
Emma sucked in a breath, held it. "I kissed Jack. Or he kissed me. He started it. And then he poofed, so I went over there to give him a piece of my mind, and he did it again. Then I did it again. Then we were rolling around on the floor and clothes were coming off until I rapped my elbow. Really hard. And it brought me back to my senses. So I stopped and you've got no reason to be mad."
Mac, who'd been gaping at Emma since the first sentence, just kept gaping. "What? What?" She banged her palm on one ear, shook her head as if to shake out water. "What?"
"I'm not saying it all again. The point is I stopped, and I said I'm sorry."
"To Jack?"
"No - well, yes - but to you. I'm telling you I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"For God's sake, Mac, the rule ."
"Okay." Mac stopped, fisted her hands on her hips and stared off into space. "No, I'm still confused. So let's try this." She made exaggerated wiping gestures with both hands. "There's the board, and it's all cleaned off. Let's start fresh. You and Jack - wow - one minute to absorb . . . Done. You and Jack shared a big sloppy."
"It wasn't sloppy. He's an excellent kisser, as you very well know."
"I do?"
"And I'm not sorry for that one. Not really, because it was completely out of the blue. All right, not completely, since I got the vibes when we were under the hood."
"Hood? What . . . Oh, the car. God, only someone who's known you forever could interpret half of what you're saying."
"But I wasn't expecting him to bring me a glass of wine while I was taking a quick break, just sitting on the back stairs, minding my own business."
"Wine, back stairs," Mac mumbled. "MBB. The wedding."
"Then he gave me a shoulder rub, so I should've known, but I was going. I was going back to the reception and then we were standing there and he kissed me. Then Parker beeped me, and I had to go, and I realized what I'd done. It's not really a betrayal, not really. You have Carter."
"What do I have to do with this?"
"But I didn't sleep with him, and that's the fine point of it."
A bird winged by, singing like a mad thing. Without sparing it a glance, Emma slapped her hands on her hips and scowled. "The kissing came as a surprise, both times. And the rolling around was just in the heat of the moment. I stopped, so I didn't - technically - break the rule, but I'm apologizing anyway."
"I'll happily accept your apology if you'll just tell me what the hell I have to do with this!"
"The ex rule."
"The . . . Oh, the EX rule. Still confused as to my . . . Wait. You think Jack and I were . . . You think I had sex with Jack? Jack Cooke?"
"Of course, Jack Cooke."
"I never had sex with Jack."
Emma poked her. "Yes, you did."
Mac poked her back. "No, I didn't, and I ought to know who I did or didn't have sex with, and Jack and I never did the deed. We never even got close to doing the deed. I have not rolled around on the floor removing clothes with Jack."
"But . . ." Baffled, almost weak with it, Emma dropped her arms to her side. "But when he first started coming home with Del, for vacations and holidays during college, the two of you . . ."
"Flirted. Period. Start and stop. We never hit the sheets, or the floor, or the wall, or any other surface together in any way approaching nakedness. Clear?"
"I always thought . . ."
Mac quirked her eyebrows. "You could've asked."
"No, because, damn it, I wanted to flirt with him, and you already were, so I couldn't, and I thought what I