“Stefanie.”
“Ferguson. I know.” Sunday let that comment hang and wiggled her perfect heart-shaped ass across the living room and out the front door.
Once she’d left, Stefanie let go of Emmett and lifted her arms in exasperation. “What was that about?”
“I’m going to have a drink,” Emmett had the nerve to say. “Can I pour you one?”
“Um. Hello?” She chased him into the kitchen. “Who was that? What’s going on?”
“That was Sunday Web—”
“Yes. I know her name. Who is she?”
“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” he stated simply. “Drink?”
“What’s your ex-girlfriend doing in your apartment? Why does she have a key?”
With a sigh, he pulled open a cabinet and extracted two wineglasses. He slid a wine bottle from a curved metal hanger on the wall and showed her the label.
Stefanie shrugged. That’s fine.
“I gave her a key when we were dating,” he said as he worked the corkscrew.
“And were you dating when you married me?”
“No.” He spared her a glance after he filled his glass, hovering the neck of the bottle over hers.
Stef nodded. She most definitely needed a glass of wine.
“And you watch her cat?”
“He’s funny with strangers.”
Her brow scrunched—she could feel herself scowling.
“Sunday and I are friends and I promised I’d cat-sit. The end.” Emmett handed Stefanie her wineglass. She took a sip, the bright red berry flavors bursting on her tongue. Unfortunately, the color of the wine reminded her of both Sunday’s lipstick and her low-cut sweater, so Stef found herself frowning anew.
“As you might recall, I had no plans to marry or date you three days ago.”
She crossed her arms, knowing she was being unfair but not caring. He rounded the stainless counter and set his glass next to hers, tipping her chin to address her.
“How do you think I felt when you were photographed coming out of a hotel room with Blake Eastwood?”
She blinked, stunned. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
A handful of seconds passed in silence, as if he was debating whether to continue. Finally, he did.
“If you had any idea what I wanted to do to him after I found out he’d touched you... After I found out he’d used you... If I didn’t value Chase’s reputation, or staying out of prison, I’d have torn Blake to pieces with my bare hands.”
It was wrong for her to luxuriate in the notion that Emmett was jealous, but she didn’t care. She let it surround her like a security blanket. All of her grew warm, starting with her cheeks.
“You didn’t like that I was with Blake,” she said, wrapping her head around his admission.
“No.”
“And you wanted to hurt him because he hurt me?”
“I wanted to erase him from this planet because he hurt you.”