Sunday and I don’t need to be at the practice.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “I need someone else willing to mock Bailey about her engagement to the man she once referred to ‘as the devil himself.’ And Emery’s too sweet to mock.”
Emery glanced over the rim of her teacup, her stunning pale-blue eyes wide. “Not true,” she replied in her quiet voice. “I can mock as well as anyone. Only not about this.” She smiled at Bailey. “I think this is amazing.”
“Amazingly shocking,” I added. “It’s like Buffy hooking up with Spike. Unexpected but incredibly hot.”
Bailey quirked an eyebrow at me. “Hilarious.”
I shared a smirk with Jess. “I thought so.”
“All you’re doing is showing your age.”
“What? The age that is younger than you?”
Bailey fought a smile. “I don’t know why I put up with your smart mouth half the time.”
“Hey, Vaughn may be smokin’ hot, but we both know I’m your soul mate, Hartwell.”
“Oh, it all makes sense.” Jess grinned. “Dahlia’s afraid Vaughn will take her bestie away from her.”
“Not possible,” I said on a nonchalant exhale. “I’m prettier and wittier than Vaughn Tremaine. What I provide to Bailey’s life can’t be replicated or replaced.”
“He gives her multiple orgasms,” Emery said, grinning. “I think he wins.”
We were all shocked into silence by her comment before we promptly burst into laughter. It wasn’t that funny. But coming from Emery, it was hilarious. “Aw, man, Jess, you should never have introduced Bails to Emery. She’s ruining her.”
“In the best way possible,” Bailey argued.
“I’m only saying what I used to say to myself in my head. I feel comfortable enough to say it out loud to you guys.” Emery shrugged.
My curiosity about Emery had been piqued seven years ago when she showed up on the boardwalk and transformed Burger Hut into a bookstore. She was so closed off and shy, however, that Bailey and I gave up on trying to befriend her. Now that Jess had paved the way for all of us to become friends, Bailey and I had frequently discussed our growing curiosity. We knew nothing about Emery, and we were afraid if we prodded, she’d slip back into her shell.
However, I’d grown very fond of the soft-spoken, intelligent bookstore owner. There was a sadness in her eyes that called to the melancholy in my own. This woman had a story to tell, and maybe she’d been waiting for people to trust enough to confide in. I wanted to be one of those people.
“So, tell me, Emery,” I tried my best to sound casual, “have you ever had that? Someone like Vaughn in your life?”
Her cheeks flushed a becoming pink. “Uh… no.”
“Who has?” Bailey snorted. “The man is one of a kind.”
“Show-off,” I teased.
“Just no?” Jess ignored us.
Emery gave an abrupt shake of her head. “Just no.”
That was it?
Bailey wrinkled her nose. “No guy you cared about? A childhood sweetheart, maybe?”
“I lived with my grandmother, and she didn’t allow me to date.”
Jess, Bailey, and I shared a glance. We guessed that kind of explained things. Well, some things. “Okay.” I put my coffee mug down and focused on Emery, my curiosity getting the better of me. “You’ve got to tell us about this grandmother of yours and how a smart, beautiful young woman of …”
“Twenty-eight,” she offered.
“Of twenty-eight lives in a small town where almost everyone knows each other but is so shy, it takes her seven years to befriend anyone.”
Emery’s brows pinched together. “That’s not true. I’ve been friends with Iris since I moved here.”
“What?” Bailey huffed. “She didn’t tell me that.”
“That’s because she knows how nosy you are.” Emery winced. “I meant that nicer than it came out.”
I laughed. “You meant it exactly how it came out.”
Bailey stuck her tongue out at me.
“Children,” Jess rolled her eyes, “back to Emery and her grandmother.”
“Um … there’s not much to tell.” She nibbled on her lower lip for a second, seemingly in contemplation, and then she put her tea down. Her lashes lowered over her eyes as she focused on the coffee table in front of us. “My parents were killed in the same airplane accident as my grandfather. He had a private jet. It crashed. I was in New York that summer, at a summer camp for musicians. I played the cello. I was twelve. After … it was just my grandmother and me.” Her gaze turned very direct. “This goes no further than this room.”
We all nodded, and I realized we were all leaning forward in our