Hard Sell| ETHMA

20

EMMA
Saturday Evening, September 30

Ethan's mouth is warm and firm on mine, and any thought I have to remind him we're no longer hooking up goes out the window when his hand gently cups the back of my head, pulling me closer.

His lips nudge mine apart, and mine respond, welcoming his kiss as though I'm made for it. Made for kissing him.

Ethan's tongue touches mine, and a little moan slips out . . .

Just as the front door opens.

"Oh! Oh my!"

I push away from Ethan, baffled by the heat flooding my cheeks. Oh, this is what blushing feels like. I haven't felt it in . . . forever.

I turn to find a thin blonde woman grinning at me. "Ethan Dolan, I haven't seen you embarrass a girl like this since you took Brianne Ross to prom and whispered something in her ear that made her blush redder than tomato sauce."

I turn to Ethan. "What'd you whisper?"

Ethan's mother lets out a delighted laugh. "Oh, I can see why he likes you. You're Emma, obviously. And I'm Lisa, Ethan's mother, obviously."

Actually, there's really nothing obvious about it, considering I met a woman in the driveway who acted just as motherly toward Ethan. But I don't say this. Obviously.

"Mother," Ethan says, bending to kiss his mom's cheek as he steps inside. "Good to see you."

She wraps her arms around him and gives a quick squeeze. "I'm so glad you're here. Okay, Emma, come in, come in. Get your coat off, and let's get you a drink."

"Felicia's here," Ethan says, helping me out of my trench coat. "Bridget called, so she'll be in in a minute."

"Oh, poor Bridget," Lisa says with a regretful sigh as she reaches out to take my coat from Ethan. She looks at me. "Poor thing's put on a good amount of weight just before the wedding."

"Mom." Ethan's voice is gently chiding.

"I don't say it to be mean!" Lisa insists. "She can't help she has her mother's body type."

It's a catty little jab, to be sure, but there doesn't seem to be much malice behind it. Instead it's like the way I've heard competitive sisters talk about one another—little put-downs here and there to lift their own egos but no real venom. Almost as though she's simply resigned to the other woman's presence at family dinners.

Lisa turns her head slightly toward a hallway on her right. "Sean! Your son's here!"

A masculine voice replies immediately. "Ethan! Get in here a sec—I want to show you something."

Ethan gives me an apologetic look. "He has a new laptop. Ten bucks says he doesn't want to show me anything, just ask me how to use it, all while pretending he's teaching me."

I smile to reassure him I'll be fine with his mother. "Hopefully you're better with computers than history."

Lisa lets out a laugh as Ethan makes a ha-ha face and heads down the hall to wherever his father is.

"Told you about that, did he?" Lisa says as she motions for me to follow her. "I'd forgotten all about that. It was the funniest thing seeing his face when he realized he'd gotten a C in British history. I thought he was going to pass out."

"His first C?"

She rolls her eyes. "First anything that wasn't an A plus. Though he always had to work a bit harder on anything that wasn't numbers. He's like his dad that way. Calculator for a brain, but when it comes to reading and writing, he's merely average."