Page 64 of Townshipped
I clear my throat as a flush rises up my neck.
“I better clean up. I’ll be down to help with dinner in a minute.”
“Okay,” I say in a bright voice, I manage to barely suppress a squeak.
The sound of his footfalls recedes as he strides up the stairs. Then he shouts, “You did laundry! She even does laundry, people! Score!”
I laugh as I grab a rag to clean the counter. I’m going to tell Aiden about Buck. At least that’s my plan.
22
AIDEN
Ican’t shower fast enough.
My whole drive home I pictured Em floundering a bit without me around to direct our day. I figured she’d finally curl up on the couch with a book, or end up milling around the goat pen with an expectant look on her face, waiting for my return.
Instead I walked in to Latin music playing through the overhead speakers, the smell of warm cookies, and her looking more at home in my kitchen than I’d ever imagined any woman would.
And the way she swayed her hips nearly did me in. I won’t forget that image anytime soon. Why would I even want to?
Every man should be so lucky to come home from work to the scene I just witnessed.
Not every man.
Scratch that.
The idea of any other man watching Em dancing without a care in the world brings out my inner caveman. I want to keep her to myself and she’s not even mine to keep.
I dress and grab my phone, eager to get back downstairs to cook dinner and spend an uninterrupted evening with Em. As I’m walking toward the kitchen, my cell rings.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. Are you sitting down?”
Never a good question.
“No. I just got home. Em and I are about to prep dinner. What’s up?”
Mom sighs heavily. “I have some news.”
“What is it?” I ask, as I turn the corner into the kitchen.
I think I know. My stomach tightens. Em and I exchange glances. She walks over to me and lays her hand on my forearm. I instinctively pull her in, tucking her along my side. It’s more than I should do with her, but the tone in Mom’s voice sends me grappling for purchase.
How did I muscle through before Em was here? What will I do if the time comes for her to leave?
“It’s Vanessa,” Mom says with a sniffle.
I pause, giving her time to gather herself before she continues. Em holds me up. She may not know she’s doing it, but her touch anchors me.
When Mom’s crying softens, I ask, “What happened?”
“She didn’t make it, Aiden.”
My eyes feel tight and my forehead pinches. I’m aware of Em rubbing her hand in comforting circles on my back.
“Where are Ty and Paisley?”
