and—”
Izzy shut her up with a brief, hard hug. “Sure. Like Will is there for you, Emily.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Is there some other family thing you should be telling me about?”
“No! You already know all about my family ‘things.’” And the last thing that would relax herwas a rehash of her relatives. “So, spill all about marital bliss.”
“You’re married, too, Izzy.”
“And I’m going to have to do something about that, I realize. Did you get very far in finding out what it takes to annul—” She broke off at the odd expression crossing her friend’s face. “Let’s not talk annulments then. Let’s talk happy husbands and winsome wives.”
“‘Winsome’?” The word made Emily grimace. “What the heck are you talking about, Isabella?”
“I don’t know.” She laughed. “I know nothing about how this coupledom thing is supposed to work.”
“Is that how you see you and Owen? Are you a couple now?”
“No. That wedding thing was impulsive, spontaneous, and we place the blame entirely on you and Will.”
“Hey, we didn’t force that ring on your finger.”
Izzy smiled a little at the memory of Owen beside her, the flash of his smile and that wild—and absurdly right—feeling she’d had as he slid the narrow band down her left ring finger. Common sense hadn’t kicked in until the next morning, when he’d caught her in the lobby, trying to sneak out of the hotel. She’d been in the checkout line, tugging on that matrimonial symbol. “Did you know window cleaner is the best method to remove a ring?”
“I’ll put that in my reference librarian files,” Emily said, rubbing her thumb over her own wedding band. “Though I’m planning to keep this one on forever.”
“I believe it.”
Emily frowned a little. “Owen didn’t seem to.”
“It’s just that he’s in a cantankerous frame of mind,” Izzy answered. “He’s been pretty much set on moody since the day we walked in here.”
“Will thinks he’s upset about Jerry.”
“Me, too,” Izzy admitted. “And maybe beyond the grief that you would expect. But I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Chicken soup sans Sanka flavoring?”
“That’s the best I have to offer so far.” Though her mind drifted to those kisses they’d shared since she’d moved in. Granted, they’d been more for show than for seduction, but the sparks had been there all the same. Their Las Vegas experience had been similar. An instant, fiery attraction that at the time had seemed serendipitous and delightful. The sensation of his arms around hers had been just like the books said, a “coming home” sort of feeling that even someone who’d never had a real home could recognize.
On the dance floor, she’d fit her cheek in that hollow where his shoulder met his chest and she’d be as comfortable as if he were her pillow, but also tingly and twitchy at the same time. Her skin had shivered at his slightest touch, and when he kissed that sensitive corner of her jaw, her knees had gone soft.
“Izzy. Izzy!”
She blinked, coming down to earth as Emily sharply called her name. “What? What?”
“Our heroes are calling for dessert,” she said. “Where were you?”
“Oh.” She put the teapot on the tray, added mugs, made room for a cold jug of water and two glasses. “Here and there. You know me. The proverbial rolling stone.”
They climbed the stairs, but reaching the landing, Izzy transferred the tray to her friend. “I forgot napkins. Take this in and I’ll be back in a jiff.”
It was slightly more than that because she had to find a new package and then practically gnaw her way into the shrink-wrapped plastic to get to the rainbow of folded paper. She clutched a handful as she approached the doorway of the large master suite.
The sight there made her pause. Emily sat in Will’s lap, just as she’d sat on Owen’s a few nights before. Will’s arm was curled about his wife’s waist in a gesture
Izzy shut her up with a brief, hard hug. “Sure. Like Will is there for you, Emily.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Is there some other family thing you should be telling me about?”
“No! You already know all about my family ‘things.’” And the last thing that would relax herwas a rehash of her relatives. “So, spill all about marital bliss.”
“You’re married, too, Izzy.”
“And I’m going to have to do something about that, I realize. Did you get very far in finding out what it takes to annul—” She broke off at the odd expression crossing her friend’s face. “Let’s not talk annulments then. Let’s talk happy husbands and winsome wives.”
“‘Winsome’?” The word made Emily grimace. “What the heck are you talking about, Isabella?”
“I don’t know.” She laughed. “I know nothing about how this coupledom thing is supposed to work.”
“Is that how you see you and Owen? Are you a couple now?”
“No. That wedding thing was impulsive, spontaneous, and we place the blame entirely on you and Will.”
“Hey, we didn’t force that ring on your finger.”
Izzy smiled a little at the memory of Owen beside her, the flash of his smile and that wild—and absurdly right—feeling she’d had as he slid the narrow band down her left ring finger. Common sense hadn’t kicked in until the next morning, when he’d caught her in the lobby, trying to sneak out of the hotel. She’d been in the checkout line, tugging on that matrimonial symbol. “Did you know window cleaner is the best method to remove a ring?”
“I’ll put that in my reference librarian files,” Emily said, rubbing her thumb over her own wedding band. “Though I’m planning to keep this one on forever.”
“I believe it.”
Emily frowned a little. “Owen didn’t seem to.”
“It’s just that he’s in a cantankerous frame of mind,” Izzy answered. “He’s been pretty much set on moody since the day we walked in here.”
“Will thinks he’s upset about Jerry.”
“Me, too,” Izzy admitted. “And maybe beyond the grief that you would expect. But I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Chicken soup sans Sanka flavoring?”
“That’s the best I have to offer so far.” Though her mind drifted to those kisses they’d shared since she’d moved in. Granted, they’d been more for show than for seduction, but the sparks had been there all the same. Their Las Vegas experience had been similar. An instant, fiery attraction that at the time had seemed serendipitous and delightful. The sensation of his arms around hers had been just like the books said, a “coming home” sort of feeling that even someone who’d never had a real home could recognize.
On the dance floor, she’d fit her cheek in that hollow where his shoulder met his chest and she’d be as comfortable as if he were her pillow, but also tingly and twitchy at the same time. Her skin had shivered at his slightest touch, and when he kissed that sensitive corner of her jaw, her knees had gone soft.
“Izzy. Izzy!”
She blinked, coming down to earth as Emily sharply called her name. “What? What?”
“Our heroes are calling for dessert,” she said. “Where were you?”
“Oh.” She put the teapot on the tray, added mugs, made room for a cold jug of water and two glasses. “Here and there. You know me. The proverbial rolling stone.”
They climbed the stairs, but reaching the landing, Izzy transferred the tray to her friend. “I forgot napkins. Take this in and I’ll be back in a jiff.”
It was slightly more than that because she had to find a new package and then practically gnaw her way into the shrink-wrapped plastic to get to the rainbow of folded paper. She clutched a handful as she approached the doorway of the large master suite.
The sight there made her pause. Emily sat in Will’s lap, just as she’d sat on Owen’s a few nights before. Will’s arm was curled about his wife’s waist in a gesture
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