Page 30

Emily’s face is flushed with color as she nibbles her bottom lip and pulls back. “What was that for?” She gives me a coy smile, her lashes fluttering.

I rise to my feet to resist any more temptations. “I thought you were thinking about kissing me, so I took the liberty of kissing you first.”

“How gallant,” Emily quips back.

She leans in and leaves a soft peck on my lips.

I want to reach for her and explore her face and neck. To memorize every contour and freckle. But just as I zone in on her buttery lips, the doorbell breaks the moment.

“That’ll be the spa,” I say, straightening up again. I hold out my hand. “Ready?”

Emily’s eyes sparkle as she takes it. “I guess so.”

EMILY

As William and I make our way to the front door, exchanging quick, stolen kisses, I feel like I've hit the romantic jackpot.

He's charming, considerate, and, let's be honest, easy on the eyes.

I'm grinning like an absolute fool, a spring in my step that I can't seem to control.

But, as is the way with my life, which often feels like a scene straight out of a Bridget Jones diary entry, my bubble of bliss is about to be burst.

We open the front door, and there, standing in the doorway, is my brother Evan.

William looks genuinely surprised. "Oh it’s you again! Aren’t you a driver?"

Evan, in his infinite wisdom, announces with theatrical flair, "Ah, yes. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I am a driver, but on Wednesdays, I transform into a masseur and cosmetologist."

I stand there, mortified.

Of all the people in the world to show up as our spa treatment specialist, it had to be my brother.

“Oops!” I say, knocking my hip against a vase and knocking it off the small table.

The glass shatters on the hard floor.

I pretend to look mortified. “I’m such a klutz! William, there’s a dustpan and brush in the closet under the stairs… do you mind?”

William launches into action. “Of course, nobody move. I’ll be right back.”

A little part of me sighs at his response. Of course, he’s the kind of guy who will come to the rescue even when you purposefully break something.

I want to weep. Things could have been great between us if I wasn’t such a fraud.

I pull Evan aside, whispering frantically, "Evan, you can't be serious. You're here to give us spa treatments?"

He nods, completely unfazed. "William found my ad online. I'm the only one in town who offers a full spa experience. What are the odds, right?"

“Are you even qualified?” I hiss.

Evan gives me a frank smile, puffing out his chest. “Got my certification in the Summer from Joe.”

“Joe? The townhandyman?” I ask, knowing there is only one Joe in town and unable to fathom the idea of the bald, middle-aged guy teaching Evan the art of massage therapy.

Evan tilts his head. “He’s got seven side-businesses.”

“What’s one of them issuing fake certifications?”