Page 43 of Not Part of the Plan
Phoebe took her hand and squeezed.
“Your father is a wonderful man.”
“He’s one of a kind,” Emma agreed.
“So when did you know that he wasthe one,” Eva demanded, her eyes bright.
“Oh,” Phoebe sighed. “It wasn’t a grand gesture or some kind of a climactic finale. He was standing in my kitchen washing my dishes after dinner one night, lecturing me on proper knife care.”
Emma laughed, knowing well her father’s speech on blade maintenance.
“That’s it? He was washing dishes, and you were like ‘I can’t live without this man?’” Eva sounded disappointed.
Phoebe laughed. “It was more like a resounding ‘yes!’ I saw him standing there in my little kitchen, whistling Tosca, and I felt like a truck had hit me. I knew that, no matter what else happened in life, I wanted Franklin by my side for it. We were friends first, not looking for love, and that ended up being the best foundation we could have had.”
“I changed my mind,” Eva sighed. “That’s incredibly romantic.”
Emma’s eyes prickled with fresh tears. “I couldn’t imagine a better partner for Dad,” she whispered, wrapping Phoebe in a one-armed hug.
“Oh, sweetie,” Phoebe sniffled. “You’re going to make me blubber.”
“You’re going to make us all blubber,” Gia’s voice cracked.
“Hell. I should have gone to poker,” Joey muttered, noisily blowing her nose into a pink napkin.
The roar of an engine from outside drowned out any further comment. It revved once, then twice.
“That’s not the entertainment, is it?” Emma demanded.
“It appears to be a sexy man on a sexy motorcycle,” Gia said, peering out the door.
It was a stampede. By the time Emma made it through the door, the men and kids had poured out of the house to admire Nikolai in jeans and that damn leather jacket astride a gleaming machine.
It wasn’t the warm Sunday dinner kind of love brought on by a man washing dishes, it was a hot fist of lust that socked her right in the stomach. He caught her eye, and that crooked, cocky grin of his went straight to her core. Friends or not, she wanted him fiercely.
And he knew it.
“Sweet wheels,” Jax whistled admiring the chrome and curves of the hulking bike.
“Thanks,” Niko said. “Got it from Ernest Washington outside of town. Had to turn the rental in and needed a set of wheels. And she spoke to me.”
The men nodded and grunted in approval as they circled up to admire the machine while the women appreciatively eyed the man.
“Just how are you supposed to resist that?” Phoebe asked Emma quietly.
“I have no idea,” Emma murmured.
The women flocked down into the driveway, mingling with the Pierces.
Nikolai dismounted and stepped back, letting Jax and Carter get a closer look. He ambled over to where Emma stood on the edge of the circle with her arms crossed.
“Want to go for a ride?” he whispered in her ear. Her blood turned to molten lava as a dozen visions crashed through her imagination. Not a single one of them involved her on the back of a motorcycle. But there were plenty of her on him, under him.
“Where are the seatbelts?” she asked lightly.
“I got a helmet for you just in case you want to throw caution to the wind and embrace a little adventure,” Niko told her.
“I like seatbelts and airbags and air conditioning,” she said primly.
