The Crush (17)

“Kendall,” I said, “you can do this. You know who to call?”

“Mimi, the office, Krispy Kreme. Push the food back by twenty minutes, keep them busy with activities.”

“Excellent.” I turned to the house, smiling when it came into view. When my mom married Tim, I was young, not too far from the age of the girls at that party, and moving into a house made of actual logs felt like the coolest thing in the entire world. And as much as I loved Seattle—which I did—I’d never fully been able to let go of the feeling that this would always be the place that felt like home. “I just got to my parents’, but I’ll have my phone on me.”

“Thank you, Adaline. You’re like, so good at this.”

“It’s a gift and a curse, Kendall.” I sighed.

She laughed as we disconnected the call, and for just a moment, I relished the distraction she’d given me.

Probably because the business I’d built was the place I felt the most myself. I liked how busy it was, how every single day, every single event was different. If I had to sit at a desk and stare at the same view every day from eight to five, I’d lose my mind.

It was the same reason I’d enjoyed working for Molly—Emmett’s aunt. Managing the daily life of the Ward-Griffin clan was exactly the kind of controlled chaos that I thrived in.

And I liked thriving, competent, never-gets-flustered Adaline.

I didn’t like the Adaline who ran from former crushes.

Kendall and the destroyed desserts were a nice way to pull my mind out of Emmett-land as I drove the last stretch home.

My home. Where he was.

The very worst part was that we’d both be under the same roof. Somehow, I knew that no matter how big that house was, his presence would shrink it.

I took a deep, fortifying breath and pushed the car door open. It was quiet around the house, no sign of life that I could see. My youngest sister Poppy was the only one who still lived at home with Mom and Tim, but her car wasn’t in its normal spot.

Greer and my stepbrother Cameron lived closer to town, and they hadn’t arrived yet either. The only vehicle I could see was a shiny new rental, probably something Parker the traitor had picked up at the airport.

Tugging my suitcase out of the back seat, I wheeled it behind me, ignoring all manner of winged, nervous fluttering as I approached the front door.

This was the effect Emmett Ward had on me. I didn’t even have to see him, and my body was on high alert.

What an ass.

Before I could release my suitcase to open the front door, it swung open, and my mom’s smiling face appeared.

“Hi, Mom,” I said.

She folded me in a tight hug, and I sank into it. “Imagine my surprise when you weren’t the first houseguest to appear this morning, my darling daughter who keeps secrets from her mother.”

“I know you’re not blaming me for Parker’s inability to tell us jack shit about having friends come from across the country without warning.”

She laughed, leading me toward the kitchen with her arm wrapped around my shoulder. “Did you or did you not see Emmett last night in Portland?”

Parking the suitcase by the bottom of the stairs that led up to our bedrooms, I gave her a look. “I didn’t know he was coming in Parker’s place. By the time I got back to my hotel room, it was well past your bedtime.”

She sighed, setting out a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I took three, moaning when they were still warm out of the oven.

Because my mom knew me, she let me eat that first one in silence. Once the sugar hit my bloodstream, I was always happier.

It was one bite into the second cookie that she started.

“Handsome man,” she said.

I gave her a tight smile. “So it seems.”

Mom chuckled. “I think Parker took him to the barn to work out because he was afraid to be here when you arrived.”

“He should be afraid for me to arrive,” I mumbled, taking a vicious bite out of the cookie. “Everyone in this family knows they better have a death wish if they’re going to surprise me with something like … that.”

My mom laughed, pouring me a glass of milk. I thanked her for it, finishing the second cookie and wiping the crumbs off my shirt. The house was so quiet, almost eerily so.

“Where is everyone?”

“Tim is at the shop with Cameron,” she said, referencing the massive building on the outskirts of downtown Sisters that served as the home base for their construction company. My stepbrother Cameron, along with Greer, had taken over Wilder Homes when Tim was ready to retire. Cameron was the general contractor, and Greer managed all the social media and interior design. “Greer should be here soon. I’m kinda surprised you beat her. She wanted to see your face when Emmett and Parker came back from the gym.”

I gave her a long look.

She shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

“There’s nothing to see, so I hope she’s not disappointed. He is my brother’s teammate, and I have a strict no-dating-professional-athletes policy.”

“Since when?”

“Six weeks ago,” I said, my raised eyebrow daring her to challenge me.

The problem with my mother raising seven kids was that raised eyebrows meant nothing to her. She ignored it completely. “I believe her exact words were, ‘Adaline is going to trip over her own feet if that man walks around our house half naked, and I can’t wait to record it for posterity.’ Cameron said he’d let her upload it to the Wilder Homes YouTube channel.”