“Mom and Rebecca both started seeing a therapist, and they’re growing closer every day. They’ve even talked about getting in touch with Rebecca’s biological father when they’re both ready. Mom seems like a completely different person away from Hartwell and Ian.” It was true. Rosalie had started going out again. She wasn’t socializing a great deal just yet, but she was shopping, taking walks, hanging out with his uncle and his family—this was all a huge step in the right direction. “I’m a little worried about Becs and the upcoming trial. But she’s assured me she’s ready.”
“I meant to say that, um, I know you probably have legal counsel for Rebecca, but because of contacts in the Paxton Group, I know the best defense attorneys in the country. If you need an introduction, I can help.”
Jack gave her a grateful smile. “I might take you up on that.”
She nodded. “So … when is your father’s trial?”
“Four weeks.”
“Jack, you should’ve told me.” Em seemed put out that he hadn’t.
He held her gaze and whatever she saw in his made her go extremely still. “I didn’t tell you because I’ve been focusing on you. On the baby.”
Making you a priority.
“Oh. Well … of course I appreciate that, but your father’s trial is a big deal. Do you have to go on the stand?”
“Yeah.”
Her brow puckered with worry. “That’s so hard for you.”
“Not really. He deserves what’s coming to him.”
“You know …” She looked down at the table, fiddling with the silver bracelets on her wrists. Her long lashes covered her expression from him. “I know things aren’t … I know … ugh.” She covered her eyes now with her hands and took a deep breath.
“Em.” He reached out to touch her wrist, gently prying her hand away from her face.
She uncovered her eyes, and he saw her sad confliction. That expression caused a flare of feeling near his heart. “I know we’re trying to be friends,” she finally pushed out. “And that means I’m here. If you need to talk.”
The pain eased a little. “I might just take you up on that one day. It goes both ways, you know.”
She nodded but didn’t respond.
Jack fell into silence easily, enjoying it because it meant he got to look at her. He tried not to grin at how she found numerous ways to avoid his intense regard. Until finally her eyes flew to his, her cheeks bright pink, and she huffed, “Stop looking at me.”
I can’t, sunrise. There’s nowhere else I want to look.
Instead he smiled and made her blush even harder.
Finally, sensing she’d reached her quota on squirming under his flirtatious attention, he asked something that had bothered him since their hospital visit. “You were in a car accident when you were seventeen?”
It was amazing really.
How fast it happened.
How quickly Emery’s entire expression tightened, then smoothed out into perfect blankness. “It was nothing,” she replied coldly.
And before Jack could question her abrupt change in demeanor, Iris returned with their food. She stuck around a bit, thawing Emery’s iciness.
But when she left, silence descended over the table again, and Jack didn’t know how to breach it. That wall Em had put up was now covered in barbed wire and volts of electricity. Her one-word answers drove him crazy.
She seemed relieved when they left, and she didn’t want him to walk her down the boards to her beach house.
Jack walked her home anyway.
He said goodbye as she mumbled it in return and hurried into the house, locking the door behind her.
He studied the door that stood between them.