Bed of Roses (Bride Quartet #2)(45)

They'd have some wine, she thought, and talk. Then a meal and more conversation. They'd never had problems with conversation. Even though they knew where the evening was headed-maybe because they knew-they'd be able to talk, relax, just enjoy each other's company before they-

She spun around when the door opened, giddy nerves dancing. And Laurel walked in. 

"Hey, Em, can I get you to put together a couple of . . ." Laurel stopped, lifted her eyebrows as she looked around the room. "You've got a date. You have a sex date."

"What? What's wrong with you? Where do you come up with-"

"How long have I known you? This side of forever? You put out new candles. You have foreplay music on."

"I put out new candles all the time, and I happen to like this mix."

"Let me see your underwear."

Emma choked out a laugh. "No. You want me to make up a couple what?"

"That can wait. I have twenty bucks that says you have on the sexing underwear." Laurel strode over, started to tug at the bodice of Emma's dress-and got her hand slapped away.

"Cut it out."

"You took a bath in the tonight's-the-night bubbles." Laurel sniffed. "I can smell it."

"So what? I often have dates. Sometimes I have sex dates. I'm a grown woman. I can't help it if you haven't had sex in six months."

"Five months, two weeks, three days. But who's counting?" Laurel stopped again, sucked in an exaggerated breath as she pointed at Emma. "You have a sex date with Jack."

"Stop it. Will you stop it? You're freaking me out."

"When is he getting here? What's the plan?"

"Soon, and I'm still working on the plan. But it doesn't include you being here. At all. Go away now."

Ignoring the order, Laurel folded her arms. "Is it the white 'I'm a good girl but I can be bad' underwear or the black 'I'm only wearing this so you can rip it off me, big boy' underwear? I need to know."

Emma cast her eyes to the heavens. "It's the red with the black roses."

"We may need to call the paramedics. If you're functional tomorrow, can you make me up three mini arrangements? Just mixed spring types? I have a consult and little springy flowers would set the mood for what I think the client wants."

"Sure. Go home."

"I'm going, I'm going."

"You're stopping at Mac's to tell her before you go home and tell Parker."

Laurel paused at the door, flicked back the hair that fell over her cheek. "Duh. And I'm going to ask Mrs. G if she'll make frittatas for breakfast so we can fuel up while you give us all the details."

"I have a full day tomorrow."

"Me, too. Seven A.M., food and sex recap. Good luck tonight."

Resigned, Emma let out a sigh and decided she wouldn't wait for Jack to have a glass of wine. The trouble with friends, she thought as she went to the kitchen, was they knew you too well. Sex date, foreplay music, sexing underwear. No secrets among . . .

She stopped with the bottle in hand. Jack was a friend. Jack knew her very well. Wouldn't he . . . ? What if he . . . ?

"Oh, shit!"

She poured a very large glass of wine. Before she could take the first sip, she heard the knock on her door.

"Too late," she murmured. "Too late to change a thing. Time to see what happens, and deal with it."

She set the wine down, went to the door.

He'd changed, too, she noted. Khakis instead of jeans, a crisp shirt instead of a chambray. He carried a large take-out bag from her favorite Chinese restaurant, and a bottle of her preferred cabernet.

Sweet, Emma thought. And certainly another advantage of being friends.

"When you said you'd bring food you meant it." She took the bag from him. "Thanks."



       
         
       
        

"You like a little-and that's usually very little-of everything. So I got a variety." He cupped the back of her neck, leaned in to kiss her. "Hi again."

"Hi back again. I just poured myself a glass of wine. Why don't I make it two?"

"I'd say yes. How'd the work go?" he asked when he followed her to the kitchen. "You were pretty much buried in it when I was here earlier."

"We got it done. The next few days are wall-to-wall, but we'll get that done, too." She poured a second glass, offered it. "How about your summer kitchen?"

"It's going to rock. I don't know how much use the clients will get out of it, but it's going to look great. I'll need to talk to you about the work here. Your second cooler. I dropped some preliminary sketches at Parker's when I was by before, for the changes there, and Mac's plans are finished. After spending a little time in your cooler today, it's easy to see why you need another one. I like your dress."