She picked Emilia up at 4:45 after showering salt water and sex off her body. The shower, however, had done nothing to erase her revelation, and the thought of sitting in front of her parents and Emilia with it burning a hole in her chest made her feel sick.

“What’s up with you?” Stevie had asked from the couch where she’d sprawled with Marvin and a dog-eared paperback of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

“Nothing.”

Stevie sat up and put the book down. “You’re dressed up.”

“Dinner with my parents.”

“Since when do you look nice for that?”

Morgan smoothed her dark blue button down and inwardly cursed herself. Should she change into something more casual? But this was casual by most people’s standards. Just a dress shirt, jeans, and her nice boots . . . Shit.

“Since my mother cornered Emilia and invited her, too.”

“Oh.” Stevie’s face softened with sympathy. “That could be . . . awkward.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to gate-crash?”

Morgan considered the offer. Stevie would balance things out, but what would Emilia think if Morgan invited Stevie along?

“Can I leave you on standby?”

“Sure. I’ll dig out my phone in case you text.” Stevie eyed the couch cushions dubiously.

“Thanks.”

“Morgan,” Stevie called out as Morgan turned to leave. “It will be okay.”

Now, as Emilia emerged from Ray’s house wearing a simple, dark green sheath dress that emphasized her figure, Morgan wondered if she should have brought Stevie along after all. How was she supposed to carry a conversation when Emilia looked like that?”

“Hi,” she said as Emilia got into the car. Her throat felt unnaturally tight. Emilia shot her a quizzical look, and Morgan tried to smile. It felt like a grimace.

“You okay?”

First Stevie, now Emilia. If she couldn’t fool them, then there was no way she was going to fool her mother.

She nodded.

“You don’t look okay.”

Morgan put the truck in drive, but Emilia’s hand arrested hers on the shift. “Look at me.”

She obeyed and tried to crack a joke. “Just wondering how I am supposed to act like a gentleman when you look like that.”

“Is it too nice?” Emilia’s face fell, and Morgan tried to banish her own doubts.

“God no. You’d look good in anything anyway. But . . .” she swallowed. “You do look gorgeous.”

Emilia blushed. “So, your mom is Shannon and your dad is Aaron?”

“Good memory.”

“What do they do?”

“My mom was a vet, too. She just retired two years ago, and now she works on the farm. My dad still works for the fishery department and spends his free time fishing. Guy’s obsessed.”

“He knows what he likes.”

“Absolutely,” said Morgan, aware she had taken after her father in that regard. She knew what she liked, and it was sitting right next to her, heartbreak dressed in green.