towels.” He headed back to the bathroom, grabbed two, and came back to dry off.
“I think that was my cue to go to bed,” Amanda told him when she was done. She hung the wet towel on the back of a chair to dry out.
Jack nodded. “Good night.”
“Night.” He watched as she tiptoed down the hall.
Jack wasn’t the least bit tired, especially after that unexpected shower. He listened for a second as it came down on his metal roof. The sound was its own form of music. He wished he was with Emma tonight, enjoying the sound together and making love as it stormed all around them.
For a moment, he considered getting in his truck and driving down there, knocking on her door, and doing just that. He chose the side of self-control, just like he did with the glass of wine tonight and every other time he was faced with an opportunity to drink.
And tonight, self-control meant retreating to his own bed. Another day, it might be seeking out Edward St. James and telling him that he would never hurt Emma, ever again. That he would protect her, respect her, and adore her. He had no other choice than to do those things because he loved her.
* * *
On Friday, the eve before the big event, Emma didn’t need coffee or her most recent addiction to seeing Jack to get her through the day. She was running on pure adrenaline. Nina and Sam were operating the café today, and Emma was completing a to-do list. At the top of that list was picking up the T-shirts from the printing company.
She stepped into the store and headed straight to the counter, where a balding middle-aged man greeted her. “Hi. I’m Emma St. James, here to pick up an order of T-shirts.”
He nodded, put a receipt in front of her, and X’ed the bottom signature line. “Sign here, and I’ll help load the boxes in your car. That’s a lot of T-shirts,” he observed.
“Yes. Much more than I’d expected to order.” She couldn’t contain her smile as she said it. She was so proud of herself that she was practically giddy. She’d pulled this off. She was celebrating her mom’s life by influencing the lives of so many women in the community. This was a great way to begin her thirtieth year. “Hopefully next year my order will be even bigger,” she told the man, sliding the signed receipt back toward him.
They filled her entire car with boxes of T-shirts, and then Emma headed off. She had one more important stop to make. She needed to go see Angel. She felt awful about the way she’d behaved the other night, and it was time they sat down and talked.
Angel worked as a nurse in a walk-in clinic in town. Emma thought she’d just stop by and leave a message for Angel to call her. She could text but she was in the area. She parked and went inside the small building with few cars in the parking lot. The receptionist looked up and smiled.
“You’re Angel’s stepdaughter,” she said immediately.
Emma slowed her walk. “Yes. I’m, um, Emma.”
The woman nodded. “She has a framed picture of you and your dad in her area. She talks about you a lot. And she brings us coffees from your café all the time. Love the brew. Best in town,” the woman said.
Emma nodded. “Thanks. I just wanted to leave Angel a note. Do you mind if I borrow a pen and Post-it?”
The receptionist didn’t listen. “Angel!” she called behind her. “Hey, Angel, your stepdaughter is here.”
Emma should’ve just sent a text.
Angel appeared a moment later, a look of confusion and surprise on her face. “Is Eddie okay?” she asked immediately.
Because why else would Emma pay her an unexpected visit? “He’s fine. I was just going to leave you a message to call me. I was hoping we could talk sometime soon. Just you and me.”
Angel nodded and started peeling off her white nurse’s coat. “It’s not busy. There’s a picnic table outside.” She started leading the way.
This was why Emma didn’t usually act on her impulses, which is what stopping here had been. She hadn’t planned out what she’d say to Angel. She didn’t know how or what she wanted to discuss.
Angel sat at a picnic table outside and Emma plopped down in front of her.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said. “I guess that’s what I really wanted to say. About the other night. I didn’t mean to