Page 72 of Breaking Emily's Rules
A couple ofhours later,Stone had just hopped out of the shower when he heard someone pull up outside. Was Sarah back again?
I am done with the crying for one day.First, he’d agreed to her choice of a lighter brown color for the walls. He’d gone back to the store and returned to find her waiting. Then he’d slathered the paint on while she watched from the sidelines, letting him know when he missed a spot.
Later, he’d let her go through boxes of photos and albums as she tried to revisit the past. It turned out his sister found a certain kind of joy in going through one man’s junk that he couldn’t quite understand. But if she was willing to help him in that regard, he couldn’t very well argue since it had taken him the better part of two months and he’d barely made a dent in it.
Why Sarah enjoyed torturing herself by wallowing in what could never be altered, he’d never understand. He’d finally given her all the photo albums and told her she could come by again anytime. Promised that yes, they’d talk again. If he’d known that was all she wanted, they could have both avoided some grief and lawyer bills.
And it was strange, having a sister again after all these years. The pictures were enlightening to him too; though, he didn’t share that with Sarah. He’d almost forgotten the trips they’d taken together in the earlier years. Camping trips to Yosemite National Park and Lake Tahoe. Disneyland. Sarah seemed to get more emotional with each photo, and all that emotion was way over the top.
He remembered his mother being the same way. She’d come to see him just before he’d shipped off to boot camp. Thrown herself at him, weeping and clutching. Cursed at his father for failing to stop Stone from signing up. He’d been disgusted at the time by her lack of self-control. It took him a few years to understand her position. Over the years, they’d kept in touch mostly via email.
He understood that as a parent, she’d wanted to save him from some of what he’d seen and experienced. So did Dad, but he hadn’t resorted to emotional tactics. Instead, he’d tried to win Stone over with logic. The only problem was that logic was in Stone’s favor on all accounts. The air force was his best shot at an education.
And by God, he’d received one.
When the knocking persisted, Stone realized Sarah wasn’t going away. Typical. But when Stone opened the door, Emily stood on the other side. He hadn’t seen much of her since the night of the full mooning. The picture of her ass was still burned into his brain, and he doubted he would ever forget the image.
“Hi,” she said. “Have you eaten yet? I brought you some dinner.”
He took the packages from her and led her into the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind. I felt like Trail Dust tonight, and it’s always too much food for me.”
He opened one box to find?see?discover? a full rack of ribs.
“I can see why.”
Winston chose that moment to lumber into the room, bowl in his jaws. Great. He’d forgotten to feed him dinner.
Emily laughed. “He’s good at communicating, isn’t he?”
“My bad.” Stone pried the bowl out of Winston’s jaws and stayed between Emily and Winston. “Watch yourself.”
The last thing he needed was a repeat of the last performance, with Emily lying on the floor out of breath.
The next time she lay anywhere breathless, it would be because of him, not the dog.
“I’m not afraid of him.” Emily bent down to ruffle his head.
Winston lifted moony eyes in Emily’s direction. Flirting.
“You should be. I think he likes you.”
Stone fed Winston, then brought out paper plates, utensils and napkins.
Emily opened cartons of potato and macaroni salad and uncovered a loaf of baked bread. “Thank you, by the way.”
“Why thank me? You brought the food.”
She met his eyes. “For taking care of me last night.”
“Ah.”
Great. Like he was supposed to be some kind of hero because he helped pull her dress down and carried her out of there. Not like he hadn’t also taken a moment, okay, more than a moment, to enjoy the view. “Glad I could help.”
She stopped serving to glance at him. “When I woke up the next morning on my couch, you were gone.”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to wake you to say goodbye.”
