God, that was still weird to think about. Emmett had a wife. Even an impermanent one.
An impermanent one who loves you.
“Given that a majority of the proceeds go to charity, I’m positive Penelope is going to buy something. Hell if I know what she’s going to do with it. The last time we came to one of these I had no idea what she’d purchased until it was delivered and hung in our living room.” Zach shrugged, embodying affable charm and laid-back ease. He definitely had that side to him, and since he’d slid a ring onto Penelope’s finger and vowed to be hers forever, that side of him had expanded.
The right woman could make a man better.
Before Emmett could chew on that thought for too long, Zach spoke again.
“Anything new with you and my sister?”
“Why do I have the feeling you know something?” Emmett shot Zach a raised eyebrow.
Miriam, Penelope and Stef had spent an evening together not too long ago. No doubt Emmett’s name had come up.
“If you think Pen would come home and tell me what they talked about, you don’t know her. Pen and Stef were thick before Pen and I were.” His smirk turned cunning. “Well. Almost before Pen and I were.”
“There’s nothing new to report.” Emmett sipped his scotch and forgave himself for the lie.
To his surprise, Zach didn’t try to pry information out of him or threaten him like Chase had. They talked about football, about how much money their wives would spend tonight and then about getting together for dinner soon. It was the most reasonable, and possibly the longest, conversation Emmett had ever had with Zach. He could get used to having another Ferguson in his corner.
Penelope moved on to another painting and waved Zach over for his opinion. Stef caught Emmett’s eye and smiled before becoming tied up in a conversation with an older woman in front of a sculpture in the corner.
A hideous sculpture. One Emmett hoped to hell didn’t end up in his house.
Moving across the room to refill his scotch, he imagined Stefanie buying it and what she might say when she brought it home.
“You are not storing that thing here,” he’d tell her.
“It’s not a thing. It’s a work of art.”
“It’s horrifying and it’ll give me nightmares.”
“You’ll love it because you love me.”
The imaginary conversation made him smile at first but as he pictured the end of it, him agreeing that he did love her and telling her as much, the cord stringing his heart to the center of his chest snapped.
Like a shot, he realized he was in too deep.
After brunch he hadn’t been any closer to throwing out an “I love you, too” in spite of Stef’s profession. He’d thought that had spoken volumes. Hell, he didn’t know if he was capable of love—not of the long-lasting variety.
But he loved her. Of that he was sure. It rang in his gut, tuning fork true, and caused a falling sensation that sent his stomach into his throat.
Chase had warned him about Stefanie having feelings for him. That if it was unequal in any way, Emmett was to walk away.
But what if it was equal? What if he was in love with her and wanted a life with her? What would Chase say then? And how would Stefanie’s parents react? Already they’d expressed their displeasure that she’d married Emmett Keaton. No doubt they’d prefer someone with blue blood to enter into the Ferguson family rather than someone with a blue collar.
He was embarrassed to admit that until just now, he’d been thinking of what he could lose—of all he could lose—but he hadn’t considered what Stef might lose.
If she dug in her heels and decided to be stubborn, if she was as in love with him as she’d claimed—she’d never walk away no matter how her parents or her brothers felt about the permanent union.
“Sir, may I get you a refill?” a passing waiter asked.
Emmett blinked out of his epiphany and handed over his empty glass. “Scotch. Neat. You know what? Make it a double.”
Because the conclusion that Emmett had just drawn was not a pretty one.
Stefanie might choose him.