Page 55 of Control (Everyday Heroes 3.50)
“That it is. At Miner’s Airfield. It’s called Wings Out.”
“I might have to take a trip out there and have a jump while I’m here.”
“Please do,” she says and just my luck the two of them would get on perfectly. They continue talking for a few minutes to the point that I’m curious if I snuck out of the room if they’d even notice.
And then, almost as if I can physically see the light bulb turn on in Emerson’s head—when it hits her that there just might be more here than meets the eye—she gasps out, “Oh. I’m sorry. I’m just...I think I hear Taylor crying. I’ll go check on her.” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder but doesn’t move, a sly, knowing smile ghosting her lips.
“It’s okay,” Reznor says. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He holds up the stuff in his hands. “I should’ve called, but I bought you an infrared security system. Nothing extensive, but enough to alert you if the doors or windows are opened. I can come back and install it another time.”
“No,” Emerson gasps. And that one word expresses perfectly how what he just said makes me feel. It’s a good thing she speaks, because right now I’m pretty speechless as I stare at him, dumbfounded.
He bought me an alarm system. He came to the front door. He’s trying to take away the fear.
“I can come back. I didn’t know there was a baby—”
“She sleeps through anything,” Emerson says with a wave of her hand and I can already see Reznor winning her over.
“I’ll be as quiet as possible.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’ll love more time with Aunty Des. Please, do your thing...Des and I can visit out back so we’re out of your way.”
Reznor looks at me and gives me a shy smile with a lift of his eyebrows, a silent request for permission, and it takes me a second to find my voice. “Thank you.” We hold each other’s gazes for a beat longer before I look up to see Emerson fighting a smile and pointing to me that we need to talk.
Because I’ve been holding out on her.
* * *
“He bought you an alarm system.”
“So?” I play it off, although that in itself is a flutter, swoon, and sag all in one.
“That’s like oral sex times one thousand.”
“Shh. Quiet down, you horny pregnant woman.” I laugh.
She leans back in her chair, hands folded over her swollen belly, and stares at me. “So, are you going to elaborate on what is going on here between you and Mr. Sex on a Stick in there? Does he sex you so good you say blah-blah-blah?”
“Who said...we haven’t...it’s just—”
“Sounds like someone’s saying blah-blah-blah”—she laughs—“so I’ll put a checkmark in the incredible-sex box, thank you very much.”
“He’s just...infuriating. And does everything just right. And he—gah—he doesn’t back down—and, never mind. It’s hard to explain.”
Her laugh is full and her belly moves with it. “Those are the best kind of men, sweetheart.” And of course, she would know, given her husband. She’s clearly amused by my inability to talk coherently. “The ones who you can’t describe and can’t stop thinking about.”
“Whatever. You know me, I don’t get like that with guys.”
“Uh-huh,” she says with a lift of her brows and a knowing smile.
“Seriously. He’s just nice, and it’s been a while since I’ve met a decent and nice guy—”
“Who’s incredible in bed. Comes over and fixes your broken pipes—”
“How did you—?”
She holds up her hand to cut me off. “Grant told me,” she says, throwing me for a loop.
“Wait, you knew about him and didn’t tell me?”
