There were a few seconds’ silence on the line. “She’d probably be glad to see you. She talked to Mitch after the Fourth, by the way. He seems to think you and this Emma woman are serious.”
“That’s the point.” Sean didn’t want to talk to his brother about Emma. “People are supposed to think we’re serious.”
“We grew up with you, stupid. Ain’t nobody standing in line to give your ass an Oscar.”
Sean leaned against the front fender of his truck and tilted his head back to look up at the sky. “I’m not looking for serious, Josh. Not looking for anything right now.”
“Just because you’re not looking for something doesn’t mean you won’t find it.”
“Well, aren’t you quite the fucking fortune cookie.”
His brother laughed. “That’s me. So, hey, why don’t you come home for a few days before you head west?”
Because if he went home for a few days, he might get sucked into staying and he wasn’t ready to do that. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. We’ll see.”
They talked about the lodge for a few minutes, and then Josh had to run. Sean slid his phone back into his pocket and sighed. Time to go back into the house and see what the women were up to. Probably picking a wedding date.
And knowing Cat, probably making a list of baby names. He supposed it was natural for people to assume that after the wedding bells came the stork, but it had still given him the cold sweats to hear her talking about children. Not that he didn’t like kids. Mike and Terry’s kids were cool, but first you had to get through the phase Kevin’s and Joe’s kids were stuck in and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
He paused in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Cat and Emma flip through the pages of the calendar. The wedding box was on the table, too, which meant good old Grams was stepping it up. Emma was smiling and nodding, but he could tell she wanted to be anywhere but there.
He could see the tension in her face and the way she held her shoulders. She was fidgeting with the ring he’d given her, spinning it around on her finger. He could see how uncomfortable she was because he knew her.
How could he not know her? He lived with her. They worked together and played together and brushed their damn teeth together. He understood her. He loved…shit.
No, he didn’t love her. He pretend loved her and he was sick of his mind getting that mixed up.
Emma looked up and saw him then, and she frowned. “Is everything okay?”
“What? Yeah.” He shook it off and walked to the counter to steal the last dark dregs of coffee. “Josh called and he always annoys the crap out of me.”
Emma was watching him, and he guessed his expression had been more horrified than annoyed. And she’d know that, because she knew him. Just like he knew her.
“Before you run off again,” Gram said, “I don’t want to be all mopey and sad Saturday night, so I invited everybody over for a bon voyage party.”
“Sounds like fun,” he said. “Who’s everybody?”
“Your family, of course. And Russell and Dani and Roger. I’m thinking burgers and dogs and Mary already said she’d bring a dump-truck load of that amazing coleslaw of hers.”
“We’ll take care of the cooking, Gram, so you can relax.” When he and Cat both looked at her, Emma blushed. “Okay, fine. Sean will take care of the grilling so you can relax.”
“I was counting on it. And, Sean, why don’t you sit down and help us settle on a wedding date?”
“I told Emma to tell me when to be there and I’d be there.”
“Nonsense. Sit down.”
He’d rather be dipped in barbeque sauce and dropped in the desert, but he sat. One more week and it would be over.
Then he wouldn’t have to think about Emma anymore. Not think about marrying her or having babies with her or holding her in his arms at night. He’d be gone and she’d be some funny story his brothers brought up sitting around the fire knocking back beer.
“Really, Sean, are you okay?” Cat asked him, putting her hand on his arm.
He realized he’d been rubbing his chest and he forced himself to lean forward and prop his arms on the table so he wouldn’t do it again. “I’m fine. Let’s pick a date.”
Chapter Seventeen
If anybody had asked her, Cat would have said she was at least a couple of decades past having butterflies of nervous anticipation fluttering around inside. But as she put her hand on the door of Walker Hardware and prepared to push it open, a winged Nutcracker ballet was being performed in her stomach.
She’d spent a little time talking to Russell on the telephone over the last couple of days, but this would be the first time she actually saw him since kissing him goodbye the previous morning.