Jack
It had taken an annoying amount of coercing to get Emery to agree to dinner with him. Jack was pissed but trying not to be pissed. Ever since Emery had met his family, she’d been acting distant. He’d been sleeping in her bed nearly every night for the past four weeks, but she’d told him the night of his family’s dinner that she was
tired and wanted to sleep alone. And then she’d been weird when he’d stopped by her store for coffee the next morning. Em had then put him off about seeing each other later that night.
The only reason he had her in his company now was because she’d promised he could be a part of the prenatal checkups, and they were due for an appointment. On the drive back from Essex, Em had said she wanted to be alone, but uneasiness gripped Jack and he couldn’t let it go.
Emery was pulling away from him.
He could feel it deep in his gut.
So he insisted they have dinner at The Boardwalk.
“I can’t eat seafood, Jack,” she complained.
“You wanted to eat there only a few weeks ago because you can eat seafood.” He’d researched what Em could and could not eat. “Anything high in mercury is out, but seafood is great for omega-3. As long it’s cooked properly, we’ll be good. I’m pretty sure there will be non-seafood options on the menu if you don’t want to take the chance.”
She gaped at him as they walked to the restaurant. She looked unbearably sad. “You really have read all those pregnancy books, haven’t you?”
Jack stopped on the boards and pulled her into his arms. “Em, what’s going on?”
“Jack, don’t.” She tried to pull away. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us.”
“People … or me?” he bit out impatiently.
Emery pressed her lips tight and glowered up at him.
It was irritating how fucking cute she was when she was pissed when he was pissed back at her. Grabbing hold of her hand, Jack led her into The Boardwalk without another word.
The restaurant wasn’t huge. It had been completely transformed from the shabby beach gift store George Beckwith used to run. Shining, wide-planked hardwood floors, crisp white walls, copper light fixtures, and simple, modern seating gave the place a warm but uncluttered feel. Black-and-white photographs of Hartwell hung on the walls, which Jack thought was a nice touch.
A young hostess approached and told them they had a fifteen-minute wait. There was a small seating area near the front of the restaurant, and Jack led the silently fuming Em over to it. Sadie Thomas was already sitting there with some guy Jack didn’t recognize. She gave them a breezy smile that Em completely ignored.
It could’ve been because she wasn’t over Sadie talking trash about her or because she was too angry at Jack to notice her.
They sat in silence the entire wait, and Jack ignored the speculative looks Sadie kept throwing their way. Em shifted uncomfortably beside him and Jack used the situation to take hold of her hand and clasp it on his lap. She must’ve seen Sadie’s eyes narrow on their clasped hands because Em didn’t pull away.
Even when Jack turned her hand over and traced the backs of her rings with his fingertips before moving onto her palm. Her arm jerked a little and he looked at her.
“Tickles,” she whispered.
He stared into her gorgeous eyes and found a smile in them, despite the tension between them. Jack wanted to rail at her for being so fucking stubborn. They were perfect together. It was easy and comfortable, but not so comfortable it wasn’t still exciting as hell to be around her. They’d taken the prospect of parenthood together in stride with no drama.
They could talk about anything. They’d always been able to talk about anything.
And the sex.
Fuck.
The sex was out of this world.
He knew Em wasn’t as experienced as he was, and if it wouldn’t remind her that he’d slept around, he’d yell at her about how sex like the sex between them came around once in a blue moon.
The urge to say those words was strong, but thankfully, the hostess returned to lead them to their table before Jack said anything stupid. As they walked through the small restaurant, Jack noted the glass wall beyond the bar counter. It revealed exactly what was going on the kitchen. Only a chef who had nothing to hide would install a feature like that.
And the kitchen was state of the art. It gleamed like a brand-new penny. Jack’s eyes danced over the people in chef whites, noting one of them, a big, tall guy, was watching them go by. Jack’s gaze moved forward to watch Em walk ahead of him, her gorgeous ass swaying. She was wearing another clingy dress that made him think about doing very naughty things to her.
Aunt Amelia was right. You could not tell Em was pregnant from the back. But then she turned to take her seat and he took in the sight of her small bump pushing against the fabric of the stretchy black dress.