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Authors: Christie Ridgway

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BOOK: I Still Do
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The dimples in Jamie's cheeks dug deep. “Thanks. It will just take a minute.”

It took fifteen. The car seat check was quick, but then he had to manfully pretend to resist her attempts to get him to agree to dinner at her house the next night.

Of course he was going to be there. There was never any doubt he'd let his wife run amok amongst his relatives, even though he was pretty certain Emily had gotten the hint not to spill those beans.

And there was still all their unfinished business—though it had to wait until the next day, because when he went back into the library he was told that Emily had left for an off-site meeting that would keep her from her desk past closing time.

 

It was easy for Emily to locate 632 Orange, a pleasant, rambling house with a lush lawn and a porch swing, but finding a nearby parking space proved to be difficult. She had to carry the Bundt cake she'd baked more than a block, which gave her stomach plenty of time to flutter with nervous anticipation. It wasn't easy for anyone to meet new people, she told herself. But these were
Will's
people. That made it worse.

And so much more interesting.

From his attitude yesterday, it was clear that he meant to sever their Las Vegas connection as soon as possible—what did she expect, after all?—so this might be her one and only chance to satisfy her lingering curiosity about him. How had he changed in the last thirteen years? A couple of fantasy days and nights of sunbathing and slow dancing hadn't answered all her questions. Learning more about the grown man that was once her summer boyfriend could help make it easier for her to leave him and their impulsive wedding behind.

The door of the house swung open before she could ring the bell. A dark-haired young woman stood on the other side, a woman younger than Jamie, but the familial resemblance was strong. “Emily,” she said, smiling. The noise of a crowd reached over the threshold, and she raised her voice to be heard over it. “I'm Betsy, the youngest Dailey. Jamie told me to keep my eye out for you. I've been told I'm in charge of your good time.”

As Emily stepped into the house, the clamor created from the combination of loud voices, rock music and splashing water grew louder. “I'll be fine on my own,” she protested, even though her feet stuttered a bit as she took in the dozens of people attending what Jamie had called a “little get together.”

Betsy shook her head. “You look shell-shocked already, and we haven't even started on the family introductions.”

“Family?” Emily echoed. Surely this horde…“They can't
all
be family.”

“Pretty much,” Betsy confirmed, grabbing a soda from an ice-filled cooler and pressing it into Emily's slack hand. “In some way or another, anyhow. You know there's six of us, right? Six siblings. We're all supposed to be here tonight, not to mention other extended relations and their assorted spouses, significant others and charming children.”

“Will said he came from a big family, but—”

She was cut off by a brief, but exuberant hug from Jamie. “You're here! Is Betsy taking care of you? Do you need something stronger than that soda? There's chips and pretzels on the deck in the back. Have you seen Todd?”

The last question was thrown at a man who was breezing past, a spatula in his hand. “Todd?” he repeated, as if the name was new to him.

Jamie narrowed her eyes. “You know, your son.”

The man—presumably her husband—reached out to chuck her under the chin. “No worries, Charlie's got him.” Then he turned a smile on Emily. “Hey. I'm Ty. You're the newbie, right? Come on out to the barbecue when the Daileys start to make you nuts. I'm from a family of a mere five so I know how this tribe can get intimidating.”

Emily had been an only child. Her parents only children as well. That this many people would be closely related to each other boggled the mind. How would she keep them all straight?

As Ty and Jamie wandered off in separate directions, she couldn't help from clutching Betsy's forearm. “Is…Is Will going to be able to make it?” And though she knew that didn't bode well for the future they
weren't
going to have together, she suddenly wanted to see him.

“Later, I think. He had to fill in at the station for half a shift. There's a bug going around. C'mon.” She gestured toward the back deck where people were milling. “It won't take you long to get to know everyone.”

Betsy was an optimist. There were so many people at the party and they were moving so fast and talking with so much energy that Emily had a hard time keeping up—not to mention keeping up with their names.

Betsy she knew. Jamie and Ty.

Charlie—Ty's brother—was the tall man holding the little boy, or was that Will's youngest brother, Tom? Tom was accompanied by his girlfriend, Gretchen, who looked a lot like Betsy's roommate, Chelsea. Chelsea maybe had a thing for Charlie, though perhaps Emily just thought that because their names started with the same two letters.

Then there was a Jack, a Max, two Daves and a Patrick. Oh, and Alex. A couple of those were Will's brothers and others were former frat brothers…or something like that.

Besides Chelsea, there were other women she was trying to keep straight: an Ann, a Helen and two blondes whose names wouldn't stick.

That didn't even begin to cover the kids who were in the pool, crawling over a big plastic playhouse and propped in a playpen with plastic blocks.

Her head reeling, she took Ty up on his offer and escaped to the relative quiet of the barbecue he was tending. He glanced over at her. “Madhouse, huh?”

She held her cold, sweating soda can against her cheek. “I'm a librarian. I'm trying to check my impulse to walk around shushing everyone.”

With an expert flip, he turned a sizzling burger. “Having second thoughts about accepting the invitation?”

Emily shook her head. “I recently made a promise to a friend that I'd try to get out from between the bookstacks and live a little. I definitely think this qualifies.”

“Would that friend be Will?”

“No.” She half-smiled, supposing that she and Will would never be friends now. Not that she could tell Ty about the marriage. It had been clear the day before that Will didn't want her talking about that. “Will's more of a…” She glanced up to catch Ty studying her more seriously than she expected. Her eyebrows rose. “Is something the matter?”

“Just curious about the woman causing Will to break his promise.”

“Pardon?”

“In June, he told everyone not to expect to see him at any family functions for a good long while. And yet there he is now.” Ty nodded toward the opening in the sliding glass doors.

Emily looked over. Yep. There he was. Her heart bumped against her ribs as she took in the sight of him. In a pair of worn jeans, running shoes and a T-shirt, he shouldn't look so special to her. But wasn't it natural to be fascinated by how he'd filled out in the intervening years? His shoulders were broad, his strong forearms dusted with dark hair, and there was the shadow of masculine stubble on the lower half of his face.

In Las Vegas, she'd shivered at the feel of the whiskery, erotic brush of it along her cheeks and neck. Her mouth had been abraded by it so many times as she kissed his jaw, that the second morning they'd met she hadn't needed lipstick—her lips remained reddened from the late-night caresses of Will's chiseled chin and mouth. Now, his gaze roamed the backyard and she slid hers away, averse to being caught staring. He wasn't hers to watch.

Ty's words echoed in her head. “Wait,” she said. “Why would he promise to avoid family functions?”

“Because—”

A voice growled in Emily's ear. “Did this guy forget to mention he's married?” Will reached over to give Ty a good-natured punch in the upper arm. “You hound.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ty replied. “There's no call to be throwing names around. Emily just needed a breather from the Dailey-clan chaos. You of all people can understand that.”

“Yeah, you got that right. But now I'm here. Emily, can I get you—”

“Will!” Betsy rushed up and grabbed him from behind in a fierce hug. “You never call, you never write.”

He shook his head, and rolled his eyes at Emily. Then he turned to his sister. “Betsy Wetsy. I think you've grown a foot since I saw you last.”

“Don't think you're going to make me mad with that dumb nickname.” She grabbed one of his hands in both of hers. “You have to come out and see my new car.”

“Bets…”

“You have to. I can't figure out how to get the hood latch open. Aren't I supposed to check the oil or something?”

“Every time you get gas. Didn't I teach you that?” He was no longer protesting as she dragged him away. “Five minutes,” he said over his shoulder. “Give me five minutes, Emily.”

It was more than five. As she moved around the party, she followed Will's progress through his various siblings. There was Betsy's car issue. His brother, Max, wanted to show off his new cell phone. Alex issued a video game challenge that apparently couldn't be ignored. When it came time to gather around the long picnic tables that had been placed end-to-end on the grass below the deck, the youngest brother—Emily thought he was Tom—snagged the spot beside Will so he could discuss the different 401k options that his company was offering to its employees.

If the Daileys were a solar system, it was obvious that Will was their sun. She supposed that was the prerogative of the oldest in a large family. After their parents, it would be natural that the siblings would look to their big brother. If Mr. and Mrs. Dailey had been in attendance at the party, she assumed they'd be the ones dandling the little ones on their knees after the dinner was over. But with the absence of grandparents—had they retired to another state or were they away on a trip?—it was left to Will to hold the baby while admiring a tiny ballerina's uneven pirouettes and toddler Todd's shiny dump truck.

Still, he caught Emily's hand on her last pass to help clear the table. “I'm sorry. Are you doing okay?”

“Fine.” Looking at him with a baby slumbering on his shoulder, she felt herself go woozy. Who could blame her? It had to be hardwired into thirty-something women. The urge for the man, the marriage, the baby.

But Will wasn't hers. Not really.

Right?

Yet Will was gazing into her eyes, and maybe he looked a little dizzy, too, like those possibilities that had showed up on the Vegas dance floors were once again whispering in his ear.

One of his hands found hers. “Emily…” His thumb brushed across her knuckles and a rush of goose bumps sped up her arm and across her chest. She clapped her free arm over it so he wouldn't see the instant reaction of her nipples. But maybe he noticed anyway, because his eyes seemed to darken. “
Emily…

“Will! Will!” They started—both of them, and the baby, too—as Betsy's voice called from inside the house. “Come into the family room. You haven't seen the video of my graduation.”

Instead of being reluctant like the first time his sister had demanded his attention, this time Will hastened away. Emily followed more slowly, and found a place on the outside of the small group huddled around the big-screen TV.

“Whoops, rewound too far,” Betsy said, the remote in her hands. “This is stuff from Jamie and Ty's wedding.”

On the screen, Will was walking his sister down the aisle.

Will
was walking his sister down the aisle?

The screen fuzzed out, and then it changed to show the moving image of Betsy, in a gleaming white cap and gown, her smile even brighter as she ran toward the gathered family and went straight for…Will.

Her first boisterous hug went for brother Will, who was grinning as he pushed her away so he could hand over a huge bouquet of flowers. Where were Mr. and Mrs. Dailey? She'd met them a couple of times when they'd picked up Will at camp, and she couldn't imagine why they weren't in the video footage.

Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Ty nudged her with his elbow. “I heard from Jamie that you and Will were old friends—”

“Summer friends. Until we were seventeen.”

“Then I wonder if you know what happened when he was eighteen.”

She glanced up. “What? What happened?”

His voice lowered. “Their parents died. After that, Will raised them all. Alone. For all intents and purposes, he's been a parent for the last thirteen years.”

A parent for the last thirteen years.

Oh. Oh, Will. Her throat tightened. “Until Betsy graduated.”

“Yep. He was in Vegas last week—the first real vacation he's ever had. He's been waiting all this time to finally become a bachelor.”

The words sank in slowly, settling like rocks into the muddy bottom of a stream. Well, she'd wanted to know more about him, hadn't she?

BOOK: I Still Do
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