It Takes Two (9 page)

“I’m not a sit-around guy,” he said. “Isabelle’s not wrong about me liking the action and fun.”

Emma pushed up to sitting, crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. “You know that you’re going to hate this quiet stuff she wants to do at the cabin, right?”

He didn’t want it to be true. But he had to be honest. “I’ll try it, but I think I already know how it’s going to go.”

“You and I are a lot alike,” Emma said. “Quiet nights at home aren’t really our style.”

“And you’re going to tell me that I should tone it down, make it work.”

Emma laughed. “You can’t tone it down.”

“I could try.”

“No. This is you. This is who you are. If you try to change you’ll be miserable. And you’ll fail at it and break my sister’s heart anyway.”

Shane frowned. “This pep talk sucks.”

“Look, I know you love her. I love her too. But I also know what it’s like to live with her.” Emma leaned her elbows on her knees and looked at him seriously. “She made me try decoupage. I decorated this cute little jewelry box that my mother absolutely loved and now cherishes.”

Shane sat up and faced her, mimicking her sitting position. “You’re telling me there are good things about living with Isabelle. That I should give it a try?”

Emma frowned and swatted him on the arm. “No. I’m telling you that living with Isabelle led to me learning to
decoupage
. You know that’s gluing little pictures on stuff, right?”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Frames, jewelry boxes—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I did that because she’s my sister and I love her. We have to compromise because we don’t have the option of ending our relationship.” She paused and looked at him meaningfully.

He did have that option. “You’re telling me to walk away?” Dammit. That was
not
the answer he wanted.

“That’s
not
what I’m telling you,” Emma said. She sighed, clearly frustrated. “I’m saying that you can
not
let yourself think that all you have to do is decoupage a jewelry box and everything will be fine. But,” she added, “don’t let her convince you that if you don’t make a jewelry box, your relationship is doomed.”

Shane frowned. This seemed complicated. “So are you telling me I should decoupage or I should
not
decoupage?”

Emma pinned him with a direct stare. “I did it because I knew that even if it sucked, I wasn’t going anywhere. Iz and I have a long history of her being awesome in spite of the arts and crafts. She was there every day when I was in the hospital. She was there when I changed majors five times in college. She loved me even when I broke the vase that she’d had since my dad gave her flowers on her eighth birthday.”

“And you don’t think we have enough history,” Shane said, feeling a huge knot form in his stomach.

Emma didn’t have to confirm that. He’d known Isabelle for eight months—six of crazy passionate love and two of…whatever they’d been doing since she tried to break up with him.

“I do wish you had a ton of stuff to look back at, like I do, that would make you truly determined to make this work.”

He
did
have enough to look at, dammit. He felt fully determined to make this work. But Emma knew Isabelle and this situation better than he did. Her trepidation about this made him nervous. “Okay, what do I do?”

“Go to the cabin with her and learn all about decoupage and…the knitting. Spend twenty-four-seven together. See how it goes for real. But
don’t
let her talk you into thinking that it’s decoupage or nothing. She’s going to try to scare you off. Even though she wants to be with you. Show her that you can still be together even if you never glue a stupid tiny picture of a flower onto a stupid wooden box.”

The knot in his stomach pulled tighter. Emma was suggesting they test their relationship. A week ago he would have said
hell yeah
because he would have been confident that he’d come through with flying colors. Now, though…well, the thing about a test was that there was always the chance that you wouldn’t have all the answers. Without all the answers, you failed. “Yeah, okay,” he finally said, because what else could he say?

He really didn’t want to glue tiny pictures of flowers—or anything else—onto a wooden box. Or anything else.

“Repeat after me.” Emma leaned in closer. “Decoupage sucks, but being without Isabelle sucks more.”

“Decoupage sucks, but being without Isabelle sucks more.”

Emma pointed a finger at his nose. “And when she pulls the glue and the glitter out, you keep telling yourself that.”

He gave her a short nod. “Got it.”

Emma frowned and slugged him in the shoulder. “You don’t look confident. You look…worried. You’re going to let her scare you off with the hot glue and plastic gemstones?”

He rubbed the spot on his arm. “What? No.” At least, he didn’t think he was going to let her scare him off. Though he had no idea what to do with plastic gemstones. He could guess it had something to do with hot glue.

“Do you know the difference between a scalloped edge and a deckle edge?” Emma asked.

“Of course not.”

“You will,” she told him. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s just fancy cutting. Remember that. You have to get that oh-my-god look off your face. Be tough. You have to show her that you’re committed no matter how many crazy things she throws at you.”

He tried to look confident. “Okay.”

Emma didn’t look convinced. “Do you know what you do differently to decoupage a wooden box versus a ceramic vase?”

“Why the hell would I know that?” he asked.

“You will,” she said again. “But the point is—there is no difference. You take one piece of paper at a time and you stick it on the same way, no matter what shape you’re dealing with. Do not let her intimidate you with this stuff. At the end of the day it’s paper and glue. Period. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to break up over.”

Shane appreciated Emma’s sort-of pep talk after all. She seemed very determined to keep him in the game, prepping him for the opponent’s strategy and helping him keep perspective.

He and Isabelle needed to take one piece of this at a time and approach this newly shaped relationship the same way they had approached their relationship when it had been working.

He had no idea how Emma Dixon, the woman who was allergic to monogamy and commitment, had gotten so insightful about relationships, but she was right.

He blew out a quick breath. Shit.

“You been dating a psychiatrist or something?” he asked Emma.

She shrugged. “I’m just that good.”

Dooley gave a low whistle. “Damn, I am a sucker for gorgeous, smart women. You still being single means there are a lot of dumb guys in this town.”

She winked and stretched to her feet. “A lady never kisses and tells how many guys have gotten…smart.”

The guys all chuckled, but Shane sighed and slumped back onto the mat, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

Mellow. Relaxed. Calm.

He wasn’t any of those things.

In fact, he was more stressed than before.

Scalloped edges versus deckle edges? Seriously?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Just as he’d suspected, yoga sucked.

Chapter Four

The mission begins at noon. Code word: Emma.

Isabelle frowned at her new text message. “Emma!” she called from the kitchen.

She heard Emma’s footsteps on the stairs. “Yeah?”

Emma had gotten up to say goodbye, but she was still dressed in the short shorts and tank top she’d worn to bed.

Isabelle turned her phone so Emma could see the screen. “Do you know what this is?”

Emma looked at it and nodded. “Yeah.”

Isabelle waited. When Emma crossed to the coffee pot instead of answering, Iz asked, “What does it mean?”

Emma took a sip from her cup. “I’m helping you.”

Oh, boy. “Helping me what?”

“Keep Shane interested.”

“Keep him interested?” Isabelle said, surprised. “In me?” What had they talked about at the yoga studio last night?

“In the trip,” Emma said. “The way you have it set up, he’s sure to bail early. You’re going to make it all serious and complicated and dump all this downer stuff on him at once. But I think he needs to see that you can still do a lot, that you can still have fun too.”

Isabelle watched Emma retrieve the cream from the fridge and add it to her cup. People who only knew Emma socially might not believe that she had a serious side, but when Emma got serious—mad, frustrated, worried, whatever—she did it with the same zeal she did everything else.

“As a matter of fact,” Isabelle told her. “I have a bunch of fun tourist stops mapped out.”

“I know. I saw the list by the computer,” Emma said. “The Corn Palace? Seriously? If he’s not on his way back to Omaha after the stop at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center in Sioux City, then the Corn Palace will definitely do it.”

Isabelle frowned at her. She wanted to argue but…Emma had a point. Museums weren’t exactly Shane’s speed—even if they were interactive.

“Did Shane say something last night? About thinking he’ll be bored?” Isabelle knew she should think that was a good thing. If he was already worried about the trip, maybe he’d stay home. That was what she wanted anyway. So the stab of disappointment didn’t make any sense.

Emma put the cream back, shut the door, stirred her coffee and sipped again before saying, “Just because Shane doesn’t know what a deckle edge is, doesn’t mean he can’t be your boyfriend.”

Isabelle shook her head. “What are you talking about?” Emma remembered what a deckle edge was?

“Start with something easier to understand, something less daunting.”

Deckle edges were
not
daunting. Isabelle crossed her arms. “We’re not really talking about crafting, are we?”

Emma took a seat at the breakfast bar and met Isabelle’s gaze directly. “I know that you’re going to give him the worst-case scenario.” Emma paused, then said, “Like you did with me.”

Isabelle distinctly remembered the day deckle edges came into Emma’s life. The various crafting scissors had driven her crazy. But they weren’t talking about scissors right now. Not really.

“I was telling you about my flare-ups,” Isabelle said. They’d talked about her fibromyalgia flares that day as they’d decorated jewelry boxes. Isabelle had been grateful for something to concentrate on besides Emma’s reactions…and her attempts to cover up her reactions.

“And they’re bad, I get it,” Em said. “But they’re not all the time. A lot of the time, most of the time, you do fine. And it’s not fair to make Shane believe that he has to do things differently or he’s going to break you or something.”

Emma had preferred to stay with the regular scissors, making plain, straight cuts. And she preferred to believe that everything with Isabelle was still regular and straightforward as well.

Isabelle looked at her sister, recognizing the emotion in Emma’s eyes—a combination of sadness, frustration and purpose. She knew that Emma was constantly looking for proof that Isabelle was okay, that she was the same person she’d always been.

The last few months of dating Shane had only perpetuated Emma’s belief that the fibromyalgia was more like an occasional headache versus a chronic condition. Which was probably why Emma was so determined to keep Isabelle and Shane together.

“Em, I have to make some changes,” she said.

“But you’ve already given up a lot,” Emma said. “I don’t want you to have to give up this guy who makes you so happy.”

Well, that was sweet. “Thanks, hon, but he needs to know the truth.”

“I know, but you can do it gently and not focus only on the bad stuff.”

Emma
definitely needed her to not focus only on the bad stuff.

“Okay,” Isabelle said, giving in. “What is this code-name-Emma thing?”

Emma’s frown quickly turned into a smile. “It’s a spy game.”

“A what?”

“A spy game. The company is called Big Time.” Like a light switch Emma’s gloominess changed to enthusiasm. “They do parties for adults, like murder mysteries and treasure hunts and spy adventures. One of my friends did it for her husband’s birthday last year. I decided it’s perfect for this road trip you’re doing.”

Isabelle fought the urge to say
no way
. Emma had a way of jumping in before she had all the details or had thought things through.

But she glanced back at the text and felt a little flip of excitement in her stomach. “A spy game? Really?”

Emma grinned. “Really.”

Okay, Emma had her attention. “This will keep Shane from getting bored and leaving?”

Emma nodded. “I was afraid you’d push him away and not let him in on all the stuff you
can
do. You need to be sure he knows all the things that
haven’t
changed too.”

“And you think playing spy will show him that I can still have fun even when I tell him about the…knitting.”

Emma nodded. “And it will show
you
that you can still have fun.”