Page 47 of That Prince is Mine
“What kind of friend?” The eyebrows continued to wiggle.
“Ugh. You’re such a dork.” Then panic pierced her. “Don’t tell your mom.”
“Don’t tell my mom what?” His eyes widened with surprise. “Are you really seeing someone? I was just messing with you.”
“No. It’s nothing. Just… don’t.” She stopped in the middle of the spice aisle. “Please, oppa. I don’t want to upset Auntie Soo.”
“Okay. Here’s the plan, kiddo.” Concern replaced the mischief on his face. “When you’re finished with your shopping, we’re going to drop everything off at your house, then have a nice long lunch.”
“But—”
“This isn’t a negotiation,” he said firmly. “I want to know everything I’m not supposed to tell my mom.”
“Just… ugh.” The last thing Emma wanted to do was talk about her… whatever… with Michel. It was hard enough ignoring her own mind’s attempts to talk some sense into her. “Promise you won’t pull some big brother bullshit on me.”
“Nope. Not making that promise.” Jeremy shook his head. “I one hundred percent reserve my right to pull all the big brother bullshit I see fit.”
“Fine, but we’re not going to have a nice long chat over lunch.” She pointed toward the meat section. She didn’t want to wait an hour, agonizing over what her godbrother would say. Time to rip the bandage off. “I told your mom I’d marry a perfect-on-paper man she matches me up with, but I’m secretly dating this guy I met at a hotel café.”
“You agreed to what?” He almost hit her with the shopping cart as he spun to gape at her.
“There was a thing with the Crones and Auntie Soo’s Achilles’ heel and…” Emma waved her hands in front of her face. “Never mind all that. That’s not important. The point is I’m going to date the man from the café until I convince myself that we are utterly incompatible. It shouldn’t take long. Then I’ll resume the matseons to marry a nice Korean American man from a middle- to upper-middle-class family that I have loads in common with. There is absolutely no need to worry Auntie Soo over any of this.”
Jeremy dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Are you done with your shopping?”
“Almost.” She gave him a wary sideways glance. “Why?”
“Because H Mart doesn’t feel like the most appropriate place for my big brother bullshit,” he said through gritted teeth.
Emma opened and then closed her mouth. Talking right now might not be to her advantage. Her godbrother would calm down once everything sank in. He would realize that it was not a big deal. They would laugh about it together.
She finished shopping with a very serious and very silent Jeremy by her side—two adjectives that she never thought she would use to describe him. With his jaw clenched hard enough to crack a molar, he loaded her trunk with all her shopping bags and turned to her.
“Is Samchon home?” he asked.
“My dad’s having lunch with some of his old coworkers.” She peeked at her phone. “He probably left by now.”
“Good.” He nodded curtly. “I’ll follow you.”
That didn’t sound good at all. If she didn’t have a trunk full of food that needed refrigeration, she would’ve made a run for it. Instead, she drove docilely home, with her godbrother on her tail.
Emma was hoping her dad’s lunch got canceled or something, but his car wasn’t in the driveway when she got home. With a sigh, she popped her trunk, gathered her shopping bags with Jeremy, and headed to the front door. She felt like a prisoner walking to the gallows as she led him into the house. Waving a weary hand toward the kitchen stools for him to take a seat, she put away the groceries.
Even with trepidation dogging her, Emma enjoyed putting everything away in its proper place, nice and tidy. She finished sooner than she wanted and turned to face her godbrother.
“Do you want some tea before you start your interrogation?” she grumbled.
“You’ve never mentioned wanting to get married,” he said with uncharacteristic sternness. She guessed he didn’t want any tea. “Not once.”
“I was never against marriage. I think there’s a certain charm about building a life with someone and creating a happy home together.” She went to stand across the island from him. “And I always assumed that your mom will find me my ideal match eventually.”
“How did eventually become now?” Jeremy’s voice softened a smidgen. “What changed?”
“Well, it provided an efficient solution to a problem.” She shrugged with more nonchalance than she felt. “Never mind that part. It doesn’t really matter when I get married. I was going to do it someday anyway.”
“Marriage should be about love and happiness.” He huffed an impatient sigh. “You talk about it like it’s some inconsequential checkbox to tick off before continuing with your life.”
“You’re exaggerating. I know it’s an important decision.” She rubbed at a stain on the quartz counter before she realized it was part of the pattern. “I just don’t think marriage has to mean everything.”
