Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Briar

T oday is my first official day of running a yoga class in Willowbrook. Since The Getaway Lodge isn't huge, and there aren't a huge number of guests at any one time, they've allowed people who aren't guests at the lodge to pay to join the class. I'm really not sure how many people will come, and I worry this job will be extinct before I can make some money. Then I'm not sure what I'll do. Gillian mentioned I could take her hours at her best friend Laurel's bakery since she's so busy now, but it's not that many hours. Certainly not enough to live on.

As usual, Darla's hip is propped up against a chair as she talks more with her hands than her voice to a guest. She spots me and excuses herself with a touch of her hand on the person's shoulder. Darla has a grace I'm not sure I could master even if I went to finishing school. She's welcoming and sweet and kind, but she doesn't have to force it. It's just who she is. Whereas I always come off as abrupt and even cold, sometimes unintentionally.

"Briar, you always look so put together." She takes my wrists and brings me to her before wrapping her arms around me and hugging me just as tightly as she did the first time.

I pat her back, but it looks awkward to spectators, I'm sure. While she's totally put together, my hair is thrown up in a messy bun, and I'm dressed in matching yoga pants and a sports bra. "Thanks, Darla."

She pulls away but doesn't release me, as if her hands have to be on some part of my body. It's nurturing, and other than Gillian, no woman in my life has ever been like this with me.

"Did you eat?" She asks the question, but I'm pretty sure she knows the answer.

I should be able to tell a little white lie and say yes, but something about Darla makes the lie unable to come out. "No. But I have a protein bar in my bag."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "You kids. A protein bar isn't going to give you the energy you need."

Her hand falls to mine, and she escorts me to the family table.

Bennett and Wren are already seated, her hair in a ponytail off to one side that doesn't look as though it was done on purpose. Wren looks up from her pancakes, and her eyes widen. The fork drops to the table, then to the floor. Bennett bends down to get it, calling her name. But Wren is weaving through the tables, her eyes growing wider with every step.

"Oh, she sees someone she likes," Darla says and releases me.

Wren rushes over, and her cute pink Converses skid to a stop in front of me. The infectious smile drops, and her chin dips down.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"You didn't open your arms." She crosses her small arms over her body.

I'm not great with kids. I've never really been around them, and I swear they can feel my anxiety.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I frown.

Her attention drifts behind me, and she runs around me. "Emmett!"

I glance over my shoulder to see her in his arms and decide to eat quickly so I can move on. I'm not sure why he's here. I thought farm work was an all-day thing.

"She didn't put out her arms," Wren complains to him.

"Maybe she didn't know you like that," Emmett says.

"Well, I do." I hear Wren huff.

"Then tell her."

I ignore that they're talking about me because I'm not a confrontational person, especially with a six-year-old.

"Good morning, Briar," Bennett says before shoveling the last of his food into his mouth.

"You're going to be late," Darla says.

Bennett gives her a look like no shit, dropping his fork, then wipes his mouth and swipes Wren's jacket from the back of her chair.

"Miss Briar?"

I look to my right and see Wren standing next to the table with her hands clasped together in front of her. I turn in my seat. "Yes, Wren?"

She glances at Emmett and back at me. A huge breath falls out of her as if she's summoning the courage to say what she needs to say. I so get her.

"I was really excited to see you, and I like it when… um…" Again, her eyes shift to Emmett, and this time, I let mine move in his direction as well. He nods at Wren. "I like to run into people's arms."

"Thatta girl," Emmett says, and I hate the way the warmth in his voice melts my heart a little. He's teaching her to speak up for herself, even for a little thing like this.

I slide my chair around so that I'm facing her. "I'm sorry. I've never really been around kids before, so I don't know how to react."

I hate that Emmett is hearing me expose my vulnerability.

"When I run, you hold your arms out." She says it matter-of-factly.

"Wren, you can't make people do what you want," Bennett says from behind me.

"Danson, she's speaking her truth, saying what's important to her," Emmett says. I still don't know why he's always calling Bennett Danson. I wasn't in their crowd back in high school, but I'm sure it's a nickname. "You'll want her to have that when she starts dating."

"Dating? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Bennett walks around me and slides the jacket on Wren with her help.

"Okay, next time you see me, I'll open my arms," I say. "Now turn around real quick."

She does as she's told, and I feel all their eyes on me as I take out her haphazard ponytail and fix it so it's in the middle of her head.

"Love your shoes, by the way," I say once I'm done.

"That was good. Complimenting me," Wren says. "She's a good one." She looks at Emmett.

He shakes his head, sitting down and stealing what I think is Wren's plate of food that isn't quite finished. He shrugs. "She's a woman. They live for compliments."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Gotta go. Last goodbyes." Bennett grabs her backpack from Emmett since he took over Wren's seat.

Wren goes around the table and hugs everyone, including me. "And I like hugs goodbye. It's a security thing."

Bennett glances at Darla, and she frowns. I'm missing something there. I hug Wren, but not nearly as tight as Darla.

"I should get to the studio and set up." I move to climb out of the chair to make my escape.

"You need to eat properly," Darla says, lifting her coffee mug. There's nothing in front of her to eat. Maybe she already did.

"How do you expect to stay in shape and be limber without the proper nutrients?" Emmett asks, finishing off what looks like french toast with strawberries. If I was comfortable, I might cut a piece off for myself, it looks so good.

"Why are you here?" I ask, stripping my eyes away from his french toast that's dripping with syrup. I've never wanted a sugary breakfast more in my life.

"It's my break time."

"He stops by to see Wren. They have a close relationship." Darla is clearly telling me the truth.

I can't help but wonder why Emmett was trying to hide it. His relationship with Wren is endearing. Could there be a soft heart under that jokester exterior?

"That's nice." I shift again to flee the room.

"I'm letting you get away with it this time, but tomorrow, you eat. I'll have Jensen prepare something for you."

"She's eye-fucking my french toast, so maybe that's a good choice." Emmett lifts his fork with a strawberry and french toast, syrup streaming down it, toward me. "I promise I don't have cooties."

I roll my eyes.

Darla laughs.

"No, thanks."

He slides the fork into his mouth, his eyes shutting for a moment as I'm sure the sweetness from the strawberry and syrup mix together to explode on his taste buds. His expression shifts to pure enjoyment, and I find myself jealous as hell. Damn him.

"I gotta go." I stand from the chair.

Darla waves goodbye, watching me with her coffee mug poised in front of her mouth. She has a smile I can't decipher, but I choose to let it go and focus on getting to the studio.

On the way there, my stomach clenches, and I curl in on myself for a moment. I grab the edge of a door frame to steady myself, taking long, slow breaths until the nausea retreats. It always hits at the worst and most unexpected times.

"Boo," Emmett whispers in my ear.

I remove my hand from my stomach. Nauseated or not, I need to escape him. "Don't you have to work?"

"I told you I was on my break, but I'm actually here on business."

I continue walking through the lodge to the studio they set up for me, which I think used to be a small party room. I'm assuming it hasn't been used since they built The Knotted Barn, where all the wedding receptions happen now.

"What kind of business would you have with me?"

"I heard a rumor that you're moving in with the girls."

How does he know? I only heard last night when Gillian came over to her old house to pack up the basement and said that she'd arranged for me to stay with the girls, so I don't have to live with Emmett.

Gillian has done a lot of kind and unselfish things for me in my lifetime, and I appreciate her active approach, but if she's worried I can't control myself around Emmett, she needn't bother. As if just because the man is tall and built and has that playboy persona I love, I can't keep my pussy under lock and key. But really, she's probably doing me a favor because though I won't fuck him, I might go to jail if I have to live with Emmett.

"So I'm told."

"Good. I didn't want you at my house anyway."

I stop in the doorway to the studio and look at him.

He laughs. "I'm kidding, but you'll be much happier there. But please don't sync to their schedule. There's one week every month when all of them have their periods. I've marked it in my calendar, so I know to be on my best behavior."

He's got to be joking, but I don't say anything. I just stare at him, unimpressed.

"I'm kidding. You really don't get my humor, huh? Isn't that a thing, though? All the women synching to the same schedule?"

"I guess," I answer, not really wanting to talk about this.

A line of women are coming down the hall with yoga mats swung over their shoulders. They're all talking loudly, and some hold coffees or drinks from the café in the lobby of the lodge. There are a lot more women than I thought would be here, which is job security, but still, my nerves pile up.

The nausea reappears. Maybe I should have eaten.

"Excuse me," I say and run to the bathroom down the hall.

I push open the door and fall to my knees in front of a toilet without shutting the stall door. I'm unsure how I have anything inside me because I have barely had an appetite lately.

Mindlessly, I press down the lever on the toilet and tilt my head back with my eyes closed, taking deep breaths in hopes of calming my hormones.

"Are you okay?"

Shit. I turn around, and there's Emmett leaning into the stall with his hands anchored to the stall frame.

"This is a woman's bathroom." I quickly get to my feet, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Not my first time."

"Spare me your kiss-and-tell stories." I wash my hands before taking a paper towel to dry them and run across my mouth.

"Why are you throwing up?" he asks, disregarding my jab.

"Must be something I ate." I walk by him, but he lightly clasps my elbow in his large hand.

"You're pregnant." He says it with certainty.

I have no idea how he'd know or guess. The man knows nothing about me.

"What? Why would you think that?" I act as if he's the kid at the board in class who can't solve the problem, all while he solved it before it was even a question.

"You are," he says, so self-assured.

I momentarily go on the defense, ready to cut him to shreds, but there's no comeback in my head. Damn pregnancy brain. "You don't know what you're talking about."

I yank my elbow away and walk out of the bathroom, running smack dab into Gillian wearing a cute yoga outfit with a new mat swung over her shoulder.

She looks at Emmett and me, who's followed me out, and frowns. "What exactly is going on?"

Oh hell, how did my life get even more complicated by returning to Willowbrook?