Fool for You by Kelly Elliott

Landon

“THAT IS SO not a cactus!” Emmerson said on a laugh as we lay side by side and stared up at the stars in the night sky from her rooftop.

“Are you blind? Look, follow my finger, and I’ll trace it.”

She moved in closer, and when her body leaned into mine, I had to suppress a groan.

With a giggle, Emmerson said, “Okay, maybe I see a cactus. I still think it looks like a cat.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed her away, needing the space between us before I rolled on top of her and kissed her. We lay there in silence for a few moments before she spoke.

“Can you believe Hailey is getting married?”

“I’m not surprised, are you? With Mike moving to Dallas later this year and all, I figured it was coming.”

She sighed. “Who will help run the vineyard and orchard once Hailey joins Mike in Dallas? What about the marketing for the bed and breakfast?”

“My mom told me Laura has been doing an amazing job as the receptionist. They’re thinking of promoting her and having Hailey train her on some of the more in-depth things.”

Emmerson rolled over to face me and rested her head on her hand. “Laura, huh?”

I nodded as I kept looking up.

“Whatever happened between the two of you?”

Turning, I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

She smirked. “I mean, why did you break up? I thought you made a cute couple.”

Laura had been my first serious girlfriend. We had met in high school, and it had been my first attempt at pushing Emmerson from my mind and heart. Laura had been fun, and she put up with me being gone most of the year. But, she also finally saw through the wall that I had put up. I thought back to the day we broke up, and what she’d said to me.

“I don’t really know how Emmerson doesn’t see the way you look at her. I see it, Landon, and you need to admit it to yourself. You’re madly in love with her, and you’ll never truly be able to commit to someone until you either admit it to yourself and move on, or admit it to both yourself and Emmerson and see what happens.”

Laura was the first and only person to truly confront me about my feelings for Emmerson. Sure, other girls accused me of having something more than friendship with Emme, but Laura actually saw through all my bullshit and called me on it. She was happily married now with a two-year-old daughter.

I focused back on the night sky. “We just didn’t work out is all.”

“Sex bad?” Emmerson asked with a giggle.

“Not at all,” I said, before I thought about my answer.

She instantly stopped laughing and then rolled back over and stared at the sky. I couldn’t help but wonder if my answer had bothered her. Her mood had changed in an instant.

“What about you?” I asked. “You ready to jump back into the saddle? It’s been what, a year since Jason?”

With a deep exhale, she sat up. “I’m not the least bit interested in dating anyone right now. But it’s annoying how many people keep asking me why I’m single. I guess because I plan weddings, I should be in this glorious relationship and walking around whistling love songs or something.”

Laughing, I sat up too. “Try having your single status plastered all over the world.”

Emmerson tucked her legs up close to her chest and set her chin on her knees. “At least you were voted as one of the sexiest bachelors alive.”

“Two years ago.”

She shot me a dirty look. “So? You still have women falling at your feet.” A slow smile appeared on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You know you could probably have any woman you want.”

I shook my head. “Nah. I don’t think so.”

Her brow lifted. “You don’t?”

Our eyes met, and for the briefest of moments I thought maybe she felt that electricity between us. When she didn’t say or do anything, I felt my frustration bubble up inside of me.

“I enjoy being single too much to settle down,” I said, glancing away and staring out into the darkness. “Maybe someday I’ll meet someone who will change my mind.”

I could feel her gaze boring into me, and I had the oddest feeling she wanted to say something but held it back.

Finally, she looked away, and I let out the breath I’d been holding in.

After what seemed like an endless amount of time, Emmerson spoke once again. “Do you ever compare the women you date to…” Her voice trailed off.

“To who?” I asked.

She looked at me as she chewed nervously on her lip. “To m––”

Her phone started ringing in that goddamn annoying love song ringtone she used for clients.

Holy fuck. Was she just about to ask me if I compared other women to her? My heart felt like it slammed against my chest.

“Shit, I need to take this,” she said, reaching up to the table and grabbing her phone. “This is Emmerson.”

I heard the sound of a woman’s voice coming through the phone. She sounded like she was crying.

“Francesca, calm down. I can’t understand what you’re saying. Tell me what’s wrong?”

More frantic rambling.

Emmerson stood, and I followed her lead. I reached down and grabbed our two empty wine glasses and the plate of goodies we had fixed to snack on and headed back into her place.

“Take a deep breath and let it out. Good. Do it again. That’s right—keep doing that until you can speak clearly.”

I rolled my eyes. I had no idea how in the hell Emmerson put up with the brides she worked with all the time. They all sounded like demanding monsters.

“It’s not a big deal that the restaurant flooded. Yes, I know your rehearsal dinner is tomorrow night. They have a beautiful courtyard, and if the kitchen wasn’t affected, we can still have the dinner there. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it all. Yes, trust me.”

Emmerson ended the call, and I sat back and watched her do her thing like I had a hundred times before. Within twenty minutes, she had a tent rented, the restaurant onboard with the changes, and she’d even called a friend of hers who was a florist to surprise the bride with small floral arrangements for the tables at the rehearsal dinner.

By the time she called the bride back and reassured her, once again, that everything was taken care of, I had planted my ass on the sofa and turned on a movie. Not just any movie, though: Emmerson’s favorite movie, Brother Bear.

She flopped down on the sofa and sighed.

“How do you deal with those brides? I’d want to throat punch them.”

With a giggle, she snuggled into my side, and I had to focus on keeping my breathing even and my body at bay as she settled right next to me. We’d be doing this again for Monday movie as well. Christ.

“It’s all worth it on their wedding days. To see them so utterly happy and in love. All the pre-wedding hassle pays off.”

“Are you going to Instagram this?”

“Hell yes, I am. I’ve already asked the restaurant to send me pictures of the flooded dining room, and tomorrow I’ll take pictures of the tent when it’s set up. It will be good to show how well I can work under pressure.”

“Show off your super powers as a wedding planner, huh?”

She pinched my thigh. “It’s called smart marketing.”

Laughing, I hit start on the movie and everything fell into place. This felt so damn normal. So right. I wouldn’t fucking snuggle up with any of my guy friends and watch a Disney movie. Hell, most of the women I’d dated wouldn’t have been interested in spending a night at home being lazy, looking at the sky, and then watching a kids’ movie. But with Emmerson, this all felt so right. We’d done this for as long as I could remember, and there was no better way to spend an evening in my book.

I looked at her light brown hair and fought the urge to kiss the top of her head. As if she had read my thoughts, she let out a soft sigh and relaxed deeper against me.

“Why does this feel so right?” she asked softly.

“What?” I asked, wondering if I had spoken my thoughts out loud.

“Just the two of us sitting here watching a movie. I feel so…content.”

I swallowed hard and stared down at her. What would happen if I told her how I felt? Would she laugh and tell me I was crazy? Would she pull back and tell me it would never work out? Or would she feel the same?

Could she really feel the same way? Emmerson hadn’t shown me any feelings other than friendship since we were in middle school. She had clearly put us in the friends-only box, and I was fucking sick of being trapped inside alone.

With the only answer I knew to give her, I replied, “I don’t know why it feels so right, but it always has.”

She moved to lay her head on my lap, and I quickly grabbed the blanket to put down and separate her head from my dick, which was already hard from her simply being snuggled up next to me.

Yawning, she said, “You put on my favorite movie. How did you remember I liked this movie?”

I used my fingers to brush her hair back behind her ear and stared at her beautiful side profile. “I remember everything, Emme.”

She smiled, and I watched as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. I vowed to not move a muscle if it meant having her near me like this. And I didn’t. Not for the entire night.

My eyes fluttered open, and I saw light filtering in from somewhere behind me. It took me a minute to even realize where I was. My body felt warm, as if the softest blanket in the world was covering me. Then I looked down at Emmerson in my arms. We had both somehow managed to lay down on the sofa, and I had my arms wrapped around a sleeping beauty. Her face was buried in my chest, and when I felt her stir, I snapped my eyes shut and pretended I was still asleep.

A deep exhale heated my chest, and I felt her stretch. I didn’t dare move. If I did, I was positive I would say to hell with friendship and kiss her senseless.

“Landon?” her soft voice whispered as she pulled away slightly. Then I felt the softest of touches as her finger traced along my jawline and over my lips. It was so soft; if I had truly been asleep, I would never have noticed it.

“Landon.”

This time she whispered my name with something I couldn’t read in her voice. She moved ever so slightly, and I swore I felt her breath inches from my mouth. My heart started to pound against the wall of my chest, and I had to force myself to breathe normally.

Was she going to…kiss me?

Then the heat was gone and I felt her slowly move off of the sofa as her phone rang with that fucking obnoxious ring again. I stirred as if just waking up. When I opened my eyes, she was rushing to answer her phone.

“This is Emmerson. Micky! Yes, I took care of booking the DJ. Yes, I got the one you asked for. No, I promise you, it’s the right one. Don’t forget we have the cake tasting. Did Doug get off for it? Good! Perfect, we’ll talk soon then.”

I sat up and ran my hands down my face, only to have Lady jump up in an attempt to greet me with her version of a good morning.

“Morning, sweet girl. No kisses just yet,” I said as I managed to avoid her licks.

“Want to take a shower?”

I snapped my head up to look at Emmerson. “W-what?”

“A shower? Want to take one?”

I swallowed hard and stared at her with what I was sure was a shocked look on my face.

She tilted her head as she regarded me. “I’ll make your favorite breakfast while you’re in there.”

Riiight. Me in the shower. Alone.

Of course. You stupid freaking idiot, did you honestly think she was inviting you to take one with her?

“You don’t have to go to any trouble for me.” I stood up and stretched my aching joints while Lady jumped and twirled around me.

Emmerson glanced at the sofa and then back to me, a slight blush hitting her cheeks. “I can’t believe I slept on you all night. You must be aching.”

I shook my head. “Nah, I actually slept pretty damn good, even with you half on me and your dog laying across my feet.”

She gave me the sweetest smile, and I swore my fucking heart skipped a beat, if that was at all possible.

“I did too. Maybe we should sleep together again.”

I lifted my brows, and she held up her hands as she said, “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, we’ve never even had sex. Not that I would mind—no, wait, I mean…we wouldn’t ever…um… Okay, I’m going to stop now. Go take a shower. I’ll take Lady out and then I’m going to make you my famous vanilla French toast.”

I wanted to reach over and take her in my arms and ask what in the hell she meant by that slip of the tongue. Not that she would mind? Now I was more confused than ever. I quickly decided to let her slip go, if only so I could concentrate on her other words: that we would never sleep together. What did she mean by that?

Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m going to overthink the hell out of this, I know it.

I started for her guest bathroom after I decided to let her off the hook. To lighten the mood, I turned around and asked, “With whipped cream?”

She looked at me as if I had just asked the stupidest question ever. “Of course. And no, I won’t use the canned shit.”

Placing my hands over my heart, I let out a dramatic sigh. “I should really marry you simply for your French toast.”

She rolled her eyes. “Because that marriage would work.”

As I made my way down the hall, I called out, “You never know!”