T W E N T Y - T H R E E

 At some point during the evening, Emmie’s arms had developed goosebumps, warming herself up by rubbing her hands over her shoulders, and Ramsay had given her the flannel that had been tied around his hips and helped her fold the sleeves up. But, of course, the kisses they had shared afterward had distracted her enough not to notice she had left with it as well. And the first person to see it was, obviously with Emmie’s luck, Alice Davis.

When the blonde entered her house from the front door, too hazy from the taste of Ramsay’s lips to remember climbing up her ladder, she was faced with her mother standing there, arms crossed.

The girl froze, eyeing the woman in front of her and gazing over to her father in the kitchen who didn’t look pleased either.

“Young lady. Mind to tell us where you were at such late hours?” Alice asked, face and voice cold.

“I was with Samuel,” she quickly lied, face neutral and