Unbreakable(30)

“I thought I’d cook us a very simple brunch. I have made eggs and toast plenty of times before, you know. It’s the one thing I know how to make.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Of course I’m sure!” she snaps. “However, this stupid f*cking toaster has a thousand f*cking buttons, and this is a gas stove. I’ve only used electric stoves. I don’t know—I guess I spilled some butter, and before I knew it, the whole thing was on fire.”

I cover my mouth with my hand to try and hide a fresh wave of laughter but fail miserably.

“Right. Keep laughing! I made you fresh orange juice, you jerk!” she hollers. “I spent the past hour squeezing those stupid little oranges into that stupid pitcher.”

I look down at the sticky mess on the floor as I walk to the closet and grab my running shoes.

“Where did you get oranges? I didn’t buy any oranges.”

Emmy rolls her eyes. “From the fridge!”

“Those were tangerines.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “Well, whatever! They’re still part of the orange family, right?”

Now, she looks both mad and embarrassed. If I were a smart man, I wouldn’t have mentioned the tangerines. I’m not so smart, I guess.

I carefully walk over to where she stands, and she looks down at the floor, avoiding my gaze. I’ve obviously hurt her feelings, and I hate that she looks so vulnerable.

“Hey,” I say softly. “I’m sorry for laughing. Really. I’m very touched that you did all of this.”

She snorts and tosses her hair out of her face. “Did what? Set your kitchen on fire?”

I grin. “Well, it obviously took a lot of effort.” I gesture around at the damage. “No one could have done this as quickly and efficiently as you did. In fact, the Canadian judge gives you a perfect score.”

The corner of her mouth begins to twitch.

“He’s also very disappointed that he missed out on your fresh-squeezed tangerine juice.”

That seals the deal. Emmy sags against my chest and starts laughing.

“God. I feel like a complete idiot. I’m really sorry, Will. I just wanted to do something nice for you. Especially after all that you’ve done for me. And then after last night…”

I swat her playfully on the butt before lifting her onto the counter, safely out of the juice and glass shards.

“Hmm. Well, how about I let you buy me brunch sometime this week? But only if you promise to never touch any appliance other than the refrigerator or microwave in this kitchen again.” I pause. “And even then, you must be closely supervised. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Deal.” She smiles at me, and all is right in my world again. Except for the disaster in the kitchen, that is.

Emmy asks me to get her shoes so she can help clean up the rest of the mess. We spend a half an hour mopping and wiping everything down before a loud knock sounds at the front door.

“Who the hell could that be?” I glance over at the door and frown.

Emmy peeks out of the window. “Shit. It’s Jackson. He’s probably here because I never made it to his house yesterday. He sent a few texts last night, but I was obviously too busy to answer.”

Fucking Crew Cut. I’d forgotten all about him after everything that had gone down.

“Just a minute,” she calls.

“Em, how far did things actually get between you two?”

I have no right to ask, but I’m not sure I can stand not knowing. Especially with this guy standing right outside of my door.

“It didn’t get anywhere,” she says softly. “I was too busy thinking about you. Wishing he was you. We never even kissed.”

I’m relieved, but I try not to show it. “Go on upstairs and get changed. I’ll tell him you’ll be down in a minute.”

She gives me a worried look. “Let me handle this, okay?”

I plant a kiss on her forehead. “Okay.”

I have no problem with her handling it—I’m just going to be nearby while she does.

I open the front door and give him a critical once-over. “Emmy will be down in a minute.”

Jackson glares at me and steps inside the cottage. Proof he’s an arrogant prick, because I sure as hell didn’t invite him in.

“She never showed up last night and didn’t answer my texts. Is she always such a f*cking flake?”

Oh hell no.

“If you say something like that again, I’ll rip out your goddamn tongue.” I cross my arms and glare down at him. “Now get the f*ck out of my house. I didn’t invite you in, and you’re not welcome here.”

He shoves his phone in his pocket and rolls his eyes. “Look, Maverick, I know you have a hard-on for her. That’s—”

“I said get the f*ck out of my house.”

Emmy comes flying into the room as I take a step toward Crew Cut. She quickly jumps between us.

“Whoa! What’s going on here?” she asks.

“He called you a f*cking flake, so I told him to get the f*ck out.”

She looks up at Crew Cut. “Why would you say something like that?”

“You didn’t show up last night, Emmy. You blew me off and didn’t answer any of my texts. I thought something happened to you.”