Bed of Roses (Bride Quartet #2)(68)

"Which is the reason she waited so long to act on it," Mac pointed out. "I don't see . . . Yes, I do," she corrected. "Damn it, I hate when I don't have a chance to be right before you're right."

"Now that she's realized what I could've told her weeks ago, I wonder what she'll do."

"She had her dancing in the garden dream," Mac told them, "and it was with Jack."

"Okay that's serious. Not just in love," Laurel said, "but in love."

"She's okay with it. She's going to enjoy the moment."

No one spoke.

"I think," Parker said carefully, "love is never wrong. Whether it's for the moment, or it's forever."

"We all know Emma's always wanted forever," Mac pointed out.

"But you can't have forever unless you take the moment."

"And if it doesn't work?" Laurel looked at her two friends. "That's what we're here for."





IN HER OFFICE, EMMA CAUGHT UP ON PAPERWORK WHILE SHE let a facial mask deep clean and hydrate. Just how many women were lucky enough to be able to deal with skin care and generate invoices at the same time? In their bare feet, with Norah Jones crooning out of the speakers?

And how many of those who might be lucky enough had also had crazed jungle sex-twice-with an amazing man the night before?

Not many, she'd wager. Not many at all.

While the mask worked its magic, she placed an order with her suppliers for flower foam, plastic ties, wire, clear and colored stones, then did a cruise through to see what might be on sale, or on special, and added liquid foam and foam sheets and three dozen light bases. 

That would hold her for a while, she thought, placed the order, then brought up her wholesale candle supplier to see what they had to offer.

"Knock, knock! Emmaline! Are you home?"

"Mom? Up here." She saved her shopping cart, before pushing away from the desk. She met her mother coming up the stairs. "Hi!"

"Hi, my baby. Your face is very pink."

"I . . . Oh, I forgot." Laughing, Emma tapped her fingers on her cheek. "It needs to come off. I started on candles and got caught up." She detoured to the bathroom to wash off the mask. "Playing hooky?"

"I worked this morning, and am now free as a bird so came by to see my daughter before I go home." Lucia picked up the jar of mask. "Is this good?"

"You tell me. It's the first time I've tried it." Emma finished splashing cool water on her face, then patted it dry.

Lucia pursed her lips. "You're too beautiful for me to know if it's because of the lucky genes I passed to you or from the jar."

Emma grinned. Studying her face in the mirror over the sink, she poked lightly at her cheeks, her chin. "Feels good though. That's a plus."

"You have a glow," Lucia added while Emma sprayed on toner, followed up with moisturizer. "But from what I hear that's not from the jar either."

"Lucky genes?"

"Lucky something. Your cousin Dana stopped in the bookstore this morning. It seems her good friend Livvy . . . You know Livvy a little."

"Yes, a little."

"Livvy was out with a new boyfriend, having dinner, and who did she spot in a quiet corner across the room sharing wine, pasta, and intimate conversation with a certain handsome architect?"

Emma fluttered her lashes. "How many guesses?"

Lucia raised and lowered her eyebrows.

"Let's go downstairs and get something to drink. Coffee, or something cold?"

"Something cold."

"Jack and I went to an art opening," Emma began as they started down. "A really terrible art opening, which is actually a good story."

"You can come back to that. Tell me about the wine and pasta."

"We had wine and pasta after we left the opening." In the kitchen, Emma got down glasses, filled them with ice.

"You're being evasive."

"Yes." With a laugh, Emma sliced a lemon. "Which is silly, since you've obviously figured out Jack and I are dating."

"Are you evading because you think I won't approve?"

"No. Maybe." Emma opened the sparkling water her mother liked, poured it over ice, added slices of lemon.

"Are you happy? I already see the answer on your face, but you can answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"Then why would I disapprove of anything that made you happy?"

"It's sort of odd, isn't it though? After all this time?"

"Some things take time, some don't." Lucia turned into the living room, sat on the sofa. "I love this little room. All the colors, the scents. I know it's a place that makes you happy."

Emma came over, sat beside her mother. "It does."