Chapter 15
“Get up,Ems. You’ve sulked long enough.”
But Emma didn’t get up. She burrowed deeper into the mound of blankets on Andi’s guest room twin mattress. Over two weeks had passed since Noah had stabbed her in the heart and left her in emotional hell, and the pain had yet to fade. If anything, it had gotten worse.
Was it possible for emotional stab wounds to become infected?
“I’m serious, Ems. Get up.”
“It’s Sunday. Isn’t a girl entitled to sulk on a Sunday?”
“Not when there are mysteries to solve at Whitlow Tower, specifically on floor fifty.”
Emma flopped onto her back and glowered at Andi. Her best friend had her arms crossed, looking powerful and just a tad lethal in her slate-gray pants, pale blue button-down, her sidearm strapped to her belt.
“And why would I want to set foot on floor fifty and possibly risk running into He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Mentioned?”
Since walking out of the police station, she’d avoided calls and texts from Noah. She’d even blocked his number. Once she mustered the energy to go out and buy a replacement, she’d return the phone he’d given her. She’d also return the clothes, which someone had delivered to Andi’s house, along with Laverne and Shirley.
She wasn’t the only person avoiding him, either. David had come back to the office just to go to floor fifty and personally fire Whitlow Group as clients. The entire firm had rallied behind her, even freaking Brad, which had made a heart-wrenching situation bearable.
“Don’t worry about him,” Andi said. “He won’t be there.”
“How do you know that?”
“Mainly because He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Mentioned has been persona non grata since being escorted out by the Houston PD.”
“Good. I’m glad. He lied to me and used me to make himself and the company look better.”
“And if he did that, he’d be the biggest wanker on the planet.”
Emma narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean if?”
“Follow me if you want to find out.” And with that, Andi walked away.
Emma made it about ten seconds before curiosity got the better of her, and she chased after her sister-in-law, cursing her every step of the way. When Emma caught Andi, she was sitting at the kitchen table, a smug expression on her face and a white cup with a familiar green logo in her hand.
“That was total emotional manipulation,” Emma accused.
“Yeah, I know.” Grinning, Andi motioned to the seat across from her, where a second cup sat beside a plated blueberry muffin. “Which is why I stopped at Starbucks after dropping PJ off at Trevor’s.”
“You’re pure evil.”
“Again, I know. Now sit.”
Emma obeyed. “What do you mean if?”
Andi leaned forward, voice low and conspiratorial, even though they were alone. “So okay, something hasn’t set right with me since everything with He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Mentioned went down. For a while, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, and I couldn’t talk it through with you because you weren’t ready to discuss it yet. Then, the other day, it hit me. If the cops’ story is to be believed, He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Mentioned supposedly seduced you in some horrendous attempt to garner popular media coverage, right?”
Emma shrugged. “That’s what Hill thinks.”
“So why then did he not parade you in front of the media every chance he got? Why didn’t he wine and dine you at all the fanciest restaurants in Houston or whatever instead of arranging intimate dinners away from crowds? I mean, he brought you into his home where he doesn’t bring anyone but family. Hell, Ems, he took you horseback riding in the middle of nowhere. How in the world was that supposed to garner media attention?”
Emma didn’t have an answer for that. “He wanted to take me to Veranda 62 the night of the fire to quote ‘show me off’. I find that timing hard to believe unless he’d planned it that way.”
And God, it still stung.
“I know the timing there seems suspect,” Andi continued, “but when he called me to finalize your security detail, he was shaken. Like seriously so. I’ve never heard the man sound like that. If he was acting, then he’s wasting his time ruling a business empire. With skills like that, he should be in movies.”
Hope tickled Emma’s spine, but she quickly stomped it down. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to prove here, but he admitted it, Andi.”
“I know, it’s just…” She shrugged. “The entire board of Directors has been on site this week. Phillip Whitlow is pushing hard to give He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Mentioned the boot, and his aunt looks to support the move this time. I know, I know, that’s not entirely unexpected considering, but then, security was called to the executive offices Friday to break up a fistfight.”
“Holy crap! Ethan and Noah? But I thought Noah hadn’t been in the building.”
“Not Ethan and Noah. That’s part of what’s got me so convinced something’s hanky. The fight was between Ethan and his father. I arrived just in time to hear Phillip call Ethan an ungrateful excuse of a son.”
“Well, holy crap squared.” Emma took a bite of muffin and mulled over the revelation. “Do you know what started the altercation?”
“Unfortunately, no. But just before I left Friday, Ethan came to my office and asked me to bring up the security data for the night of your fire. Specifically, he wanted to know if Noah’s badge showed him in the building between five-thirty and five-forty.”
“And did it?” Emma’s heart rate began a slow, steady climb.
“No. Both the badge and security feed show Noah exiting the building that day at five-twenty-seven.”
“If that’s the case, it means Noah didn’t make the call to Bishop.” Emma pressed a hand to her chest. “And if Noah didn’t make the call—”
No, she was getting ahead of herself again. He’d admitted nothing was real between them. Still, the lawyer in her needed more details.
“Did Ethan ask you to do anything else?” Emma asked.
Andi nodded. “To pull the video feed for floor forty-two, hallway B, and then leave him alone to watch it.”
“So, you don’t know what he saw?”
Andi shook her head. “Nope, but I’m dang curious.”
“Me, too.”
Andi wagged her dark brows. “Now, what do you say about getting dressed and going to solve a mystery?”
“I say, I’m all in.”
He missed Emma terribly.
Noah stood at the window of one of Whitlow Group’s extended-stay executive suites and gazed out at a dreary downtown Houston skyline. The rain-soaked city and gray sky were the perfect reflection for his mood.
He ran a hand through his hair. Mamá had been right. He should have told Emma about Amanda, but like an idiot, he hadn’t. Now, he was paying the price.
He’d give anything to have another chance to tell Emma what he should have told her at the police station. Pain, guilt, and regret had tag-teamed him until they’d gotten the better of him. In a moment of soul-crushing pain, he’d lied to the woman he loved, demolishing the foundation of their relationship.
Why was he so good at screwing up the lives of the women who loved him?
He turned from the window and dropped onto the leather sofa in the ridiculously opulent sitting room. He hated it here, in this place of abundance and wealth. The suite felt as if it were trying too hard to show off its luxury, which made sense. That was exactly what the designers had had in mind, a place to show potential clients or investors what it would be like to be part of the Whitlow Group family of companies.
He wanted to go home, but reporters had camped outside Sagrado. Hell, he couldn’t even go to work until they settled this. Papá had done his best to assure Noah that they’d sort this out and find the real culprit, but Noah was losing hope. He was innocent, but he sure as hell looked guilty. He couldn’t imagine how angry and hurt Emma must be right now.
“Call her, Mijo.”
Noah closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the sofa. “How do you know I’m thinking about her?”
“Because I’m your mamá. I know these things.”
The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “It’s too late, Mamá. I screwed up. She won’t even take my calls.”
It was the coward’s way out. Yes, Emma hadn’t returned his calls or texts, but he knew where she was staying. If he could lose the reporters—and he could if he put his mind to it—he could go to her. He just wasn’t sure he could withstand the face-to-face rejection. Nor did he think he could withstand the hatred he might see on Emma’s beautiful face when she looked at him.
“I’m sure she misses you, too, Mijo, and if she truly loves you, and I believe she does, then she will understand when you tell her the truth.”
“She thinks I seduced her, that I used her,and until I can clear my name, she has no reason to believe any differently.”
“I need no evidence to convince me you are innocent, and you know why?”
“Because you’re my mother.”
“No, silly, because I know you. Emma knows you, too, so she’ll come around. But not unless you lay the foundation of the road that will lead her back to you. You’ve simply got to make that first step and go to her.”
“How can I ask her to believe me when all the evidence is against me? And that’s to say nothing of the fact that I lied to her and basically said all the evidence was true.”
“You’ll think of something because love always finds a way.”
“I wish that were true. But not everyone is destined to have a love story like yours and Papá’s.”
“?Dios mío!” She launched from her seat and paced the room, her arms as animated as her face. “I don’t know why you fight your own happiness, Mijo. Forget the evidence! Emma loves you, and you love her. Go to her and confess everything. The truth will exonerate you, but don’t let eventually keep you from embracing happiness right now.”
She retrieved a velvet ring box from her purse and handed it to him. Noah knew what he’d find inside even as he lifted the lid: his grandmother’s ring. The pear-shaped blue diamond sparkled back at him. A series of round white diamonds surrounded the larger stone and then twisted around the band. This wasn’t the ring Grandfather Whitlow had first given his bride. This had been a gift on their fiftieth wedding anniversary.
“She wanted it to go to you, her first grandson, so that when the time came, you could give it to the woman you loved.”
“Does Papá know?”
“Of course, he knows. I would not pass on his mother’s ring without speaking to him first. He gave me his blessing to pass it to you so that you can give it to Emma. I’ve already taken it to Mr. Wright and had it cleaned and sized.”
Noah stared at the ring, too easily able to picture it on Emma’s finger. “I don’t deserve her,” he said, even as he longed for her.
“Love isn’t about deserve, Mijo. It is about nothing more or less than itself.”
“But she—”
“Deserves to be happy. As do you.” She sat on the coffee table across from him and cupped his face in her hands. “Noah, Mijo, light of my life, you frustrate me to no end, second only to your father.”
He laughed. “I guess that leaves me in good company.”
Smiling, she kissed his forehead as if he were a child. “You deserve to be happy. You deserve a life where one tragic act does not constantly hound you, one that you are not responsible for, I might add.”
“Amanda died because of—”
“A tragic act you were not responsible for. In a lot of ways, one she was not responsible for either. Mental illnesses are terrible and as formidable as physical illnesses.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Did you make her any promises, Mijo?”
He shook his head.
“Did you lie to her or do anything purposely to make her think that your interest was anything but platonic?”
“Not on purpose, but she still thought it.”
“We are not responsible for other’s actions, only our own. I grieved for Amanda. She was precious and full of life and light. But I grieve for you, too, Mijo. Your innocence died with her, and we nearly lost you, too.”
He gripped her hand. “I’m sorry I put you and Papá through that.”
“We know, and we don’t blame you. We didn’t know how to help you then, but I know how to help you now. Go to Emma and make this right.”
Emma staredat her phone screen, but the letters of Noah’s text didn’t rearrange themselves into something else.
Noah:
I screwed up, but I can explain everything. Please, Emma, just give me five minutes. I swear I didn’t betray you.
She’d unblocked his number yesterday after sitting down and wading through the Everest of information she and Andi had discovered. They’d also found an unexpected ally, but Emma hadn’t dared call Noah yet. She couldn’t. The guilt was suffocating. She’d abandoned the man she loved at the police station in his time of need. What kind of lawyer did that?
What kind of lover did that?
But now, she was back on the case and back on his side. She’d been working nearly nonstop for the past thirty-six hours to prove Noah’s innocence. Noah Whitlow III had systematically and thoroughly been set up. The frame job was good, too. Hell, she’d fallen for it, hadn’t she?
But clearing Noah’s name was just the start. When the Whitlow family learned the truth, it would change everything.
She was saving one Whitlow while destroying another.
The doorbell rang, interrupting her from her musings. Sliding her phone into her pocket, she resolved to call Noah as soon as she could. They had a very long discussion in their future, but first, she had to get through this meeting.
She opened the door to exactly who she’d been expecting. “Detective Tanaka,” she said to the lone figure at the door. “Thank you for coming.”
Tanaka nodded but didn’t look happy about being summoned, not that she could blame him. She’d asked him to come alone or with an associate other than his partner. While Tanaka had, at least, remained cordial during the interrogation, Hill had not, and Emma wanted Hill to have no part in this matter’s resolution. When Emma was through with her, Hill would be lucky to keep her badge.
“We’re in the dining room,” Emma said, stepping aside and allowing him entry to Andi’s house.
“We?” Tanaka asked.
Emma nodded and led Tanaka to the dining room. She’d thought it best to do all this away from Whitlow Tower, and her entire legal team agreed. David Reynolds, Mary Clark, and Brad Ackerman sat at the table with Ethan Whitlow.
District Attorney Thomas Vance sat across from them. Emma had used her connections—and some of Junior’s—to have the DA here. He and Junior were old golf buddies. Emma had also asked Junior for one more favor: not to tell his son that she’d contacted him. Given everything, she wanted to tell Noah on her own, and Junior had grudgingly agreed to let her.
Sitting at the head of the table, in the power position, Emma motioned Tanaka to the chair beside DA Vance. “Please, have a seat, Detective.”
“Okay, now that everyone is here,” Vance began, “are you going to tell us why you’ve called us here? I don’t like being summoned, even if it is at the request of an old friend.” Vance was tall and broad-shouldered. He intimidated the hell out of most opposing counsel, but Emma wasn’t just any lawyer—and this wasn’t just any case.
She straightened her shoulders and said, “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. On behalf of our client, Ethan Whitlow, I’d like to discuss an immunity arrangement.” She flipped over the top document she’d placed on the table earlier and slid it across the table. “In exchange for complete prosecutorial immunity, my client is prepared to offer evidence on the individual responsible for the arson at my residence and the subsequent framing of Noah Whitlow the Third.”
“Framing?” asked Vance, sitting straighter, brows drawing together. Score one for her; she’d piqued his interest.
Ethan moved forward as if to answer, but Emma placed a hand on his arm and shook her head. “Until the immunity deal is signed,” she said, “my client invokes his Fifth Amendment rights on self-recrimination. However, I will state that my client was unaware of this plot and his unwilling role in it. As soon as he began to suspect the true culprit, he started his own investigation, which is where we connected. He wants to do the right thing, gentlemen, but he’s also scared. After going over the detailed evidence he provided, I concluded that he was as much a victim in this as both Noah and I.”
Vance scrubbed a hand over his face and picked up the papers Emma offered.
Noah unlockedhis phone to call Andi. She might not be one of his biggest fans now, but she was still head of Whitlow Tower security, and he needed her help. Emma hadn’t responded to his text, and he was finished hiding in his hotel like some criminal. He was getting out of here and getting Emma back, one way or the other.
His thumb millimeters from the call button, the phone dinged with an incoming text.
Emma:
Turn to Channel 11. After, call me.
Brows drawing together, he re-read the text, but it made no more sense the second time. She wanted him to turn to Channel 11? It was just after five, so maybe there was news on his impending arrest, and she was giving him a heads up?
Noah was pretty sure Papá’s friendship with the DA was the only reason he hadn’t been formally arrested already. And if there was news about his impending arrest, why was Emma breaking radio silence just to text him that? Did she want to make sure he knew, turning the knife so to speak?
But even as the question formed, he knew the answer would be no. She’d been at his side in the interrogation even when she’d thought him guilty. Plus, she simply wasn’t vindictive. It wasn’t in her nature. It was part of what he loved about her.
He’d just turned to the channel when the door burst open, and his parents rushed in, their expressions animated. “Did you see, Mijo?” Mamá asked. “Emma is on the news.”
Yes, there she was, standing at a lectern outside Whitlow Tower. She wore a power-black pantsuit and a pale pink blouse. Her hair was down, with none of the soft curls he’d grown to adore running his fingers through. Instead, it was knife-edge straight. She looked confident, in charge, and so stunning that he nearly reached out and stroked her cheek on the screen.
David and Mary bracketed her, and a man he didn’t recognize stood next to Andi, both a few steps to Emma’s left. A smattering of reporters stood in front of them.
She was giving a press conference?
He hit the volume up button as Mamá said, “Look, Mijo, she’s still wearing the necklace.”
He’d missed that, but Mamá was right. The cluster of diamonds shown like hope against her breasts.
“It is with a heavy heart,” she said into the microphone, “that I stand before you in the wake of a tragedy that will affect not only Whitlow Group but the Whitlow family itself. Just moments ago, Phillip Whitlow, son of Whitlow Group’s founder, was arrested in connection with a plot to frame his nephew and stage a coup against his brother for control of Whitlow Group.”
The bones in Noah’s legs suddenly felt as if they’d been replaced by cooked pasta. “Uncle Phillip did this to me?”
Papá didn’t speak, merely placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder, anger ravaging his face.
“This plot was brought to light by the diligent work of Reynolds, Clark Morgan, Whitlow Tower Security, and an anonymous source,” Emma continued. “Reynolds, Clark Morgan is working with this individual, as well as Franklin Bishop and Noah Whitlow the Third. The attempt to frame these men was nothing short of deplorable, and we will work tirelessly on behalf of our clients to assure each man sees justice served and has their reputations restored. Good men nearly had their lives ruined but make no mistake: we intend to see justice done. That is all for now. Please forward any further questions to Reynolds, Clark Morgan’s Human Resources department. Thank you.”
Although reporters tossed questions at her, Emma turned from the podium and retreated inside Whitlow Tower.
Noah muted the TV as he tried to wrap his head around what he’d learned. His uncle had tried to frame him. Worse, he’d put Emma’s life in danger when he’d paid that maniac to throw gas bombs into her home.
An even darker thought struck him. What if Phillip hadn’t stopped with just the fire? Hadn’t the police initially thought the perpetrator had been in Emma’s house?
Noah pressed a hand to his chest. What if the original plan hadn’t been the fire but to physically attack Emma just after Franklin Bishop had left the camera’s range, but then, Noah had shown up, and the fire had been a rush job to accomplish a similar thing?
“Excuse me,” he said as he retreated to one of the suite’s bedrooms. He needed to hear Emma’s voice.
She picked up on the third ring. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He fought for the right words, but he had so much he needed to say. Where did he begin, especially when the most important thing he wanted to tell her he needed to say face to face? “I saw your news conference. You’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, you know me. Saving the world one client at a time.”
He laughed, and he was pretty sure it was the first time he’d done so since she’d walked from the precinct.
A long moment passed before she spoke again. “Well, Noah, it’s been an exhausting couple of days, and I want to go home. If it’s okay with you, I was thinking we could have pizza, followed by conversation. There are things I need answers to.”
And there was plenty he needed to answer for. “Pizza sounds perfect. Just tell me where you’ll be, and I’ll be there.”
“Noah, I’m going home.”
At the soundof approaching footsteps, Emma looked up from Rosa. The horse had trotted over for attention the moment Emma had stepped into the barn, and Emma had been content to stay with the horse as she’d waited for Noah.
His steps were hesitant, but that was okay. It gave her time to savor him and figure out what to say. Even if she hadn’t learned the truth of his innocence before now, seeing him like this just might have been enough to convince her he cared for her after all. Their separation had weathered him. Oh, he was still gorgeous, but he looked as if he hadn’t slept the entire time they’d been apart. Obviously, he hadn’t handled their separation any better than she had, which strangely made her feel better.
“Was anything between us real? The last time I asked you that, I’m pretty sure you lied to me. I’m trying to figure out why.”
On a long exhalation, he dropped his head. Shame rolled off him in black waves, and she closed the distance between them so that she could place a hand on his cheek, connecting them after so long apart.
He covered her hand with his. “Yes, I lied to you before, but it wasn’t out of spite or malice, but pain for what I’d done to Amanda. Reliving her death always cuts deep, and to be ambushed by it, to have Hill throwing that pain in my face… it just brought it all back with a vengeance, and I felt the same way I had as a kid: hurt and guilty, like I deserved the pain. So, in a move to punish myself all over again, I did the one thing I knew would hurt me more than anything ever has.” He lifted pain-filled eyes to her. “I sent you away.”
Her heart broke even as she fell more in love. “It’s clear Amanda’s death pains you. What isn’t clear is why exactly. I read her journal, so I know she loved you. Help me understand, Noah.”
“I will, but not here, okay?”
“How about in the garden?” she asked. “The last time I was there with you, I was happy. You seemed happy, too.”
“I was.” After bringing her hand to his lips, he interlaced their fingers, and they stepped into the sunshine.
He stopped beside a bush of yellow roses and eased the tip of his index finger along one bloom. “My mother planted this here as a housewarming present. It’s from a seedling she planted in her garden.”
He was trying to find the words to begin their conversation, she surmised, so she let him avoid a little longer. “You brought me yellow roses the night of the fire, then gave me more the morning after. Were they from here?”
He nodded. “You always smell like wildflowers, so the gift seemed appropriate.”
“I wish I could have saved those roses and pressed them into a book as a reminder of what we started that night.”
“I’m just glad I saved you from the fire. You’re what’s irreplaceable to me, Emma. In a lot of ways, Amanda was, too.”
“You loved her?” she said, astonished. She hadn’t expected that.
“Yes, I loved her, just not in the same way she loved me.”
“Oh. Oh.” She understood now. “You loved her like a sister.”
“I did. I mean, maybe. It’s all so confusing now.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know she felt the way she did, so when she confronted me at the party, it completely blindsided me. I tried to talk to her, but everything I said made her angrier, so Mamá stepped in. She tried to help, but even Mamá’s charm didn’t seem to work, so shetook Amanda home, but not before I told her I’d call her the next day so that we could talk. It was the last thing I ever said to her.”
“Oh, my love. I’m so sorry.” She wrapped him close, and his arms bound around her in return, holding on as if she were the only thing keeping him from collapsing.
“I thought about her all that night, and I started thinking… maybe. The way I felt about her was stronger than what I felt for my girlfriend at the time, but different. I started wondering if maybe that was what love was supposed to feel like, so I decided that I’d ask Amanda out on a proper date so that we could see if this was something more, but as I was coming to that realization, she was dying.”
Emma held him tighter, her heart aching for both the girl who lost her life and for the man who’d punished himself for so much of his.
“Papá came to tell me the next day, after Mamá had called to check on her. I broke down in Papá’s arms and cried for what seemed like forever. I don’t remember exactly when I went to the police, but I told them her death was my fault. I confessed to killing her, which led to a long interrogation and a subsequent intense mistrust of police.”
“What do you mean you confessed?” She leaned back and cradled his face between her palms.
“I told them I was the reason she died. Since I was under eighteen, they had to call my parents. My parents brought an attorney, and the detectives interrogated me for hours. They brought out the note she left that simply read, ‘I am too heartbroken to go on.’ This was back when cyber-bullying was really coming to people’s attention, and I can’t remember if it was the cops or the DA who wanted to twist what I’d done into that.”
“Noah, Corazón, you were guilty of nothing except being a heartbroken little boy.”
“Part of me understands that, but the things they said in interrogation fueled a guilt that drove me to drugs, alcohol, and a depression that nearly killed me.”
“How bad did things get for you?”
“Rushed-to-the-ER-to-have-my-stomach-pumped-because-I-overdosed bad.”
“Oh, sweet baby.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, his nose, to each of his cheeks. “How old were you when it happened?”
“Seventeen. It scared my parents senseless, so they put everything on hold, and the three of us went to Switzerland for treatment. It took a while, but I turned my life around. I still feel guilty every day for Amanda’s death, but slowly, I regained my life. And I vowed that every relationship I went into would begin with me being completely upfront about how this would never go anywhere, that I was just looking for sex, but if it ever turned out that I wanted more, I’d tell them.”
“You said nothing like that to me.” And she wasn’t sure how to take that.
“That’s because, with you, it was never just about sex. I knew the moment I saw you that you were it for me. Mamá knew it, too, the first time she saw us together.” He lifted the necklace. “Did she tell you the meaning behind this?”
“She just said it was a thank you for making her mom so happy at her birthday party.”
“Not exactly.” He placed the pendant in his palm, face up. “This is a Whitlow family heirloom. On the wedding day of the eldest Whitlow son, the mother of the groom presents the bride with this necklace as a gift to welcome her to the family. It has been passed from bride to bride for over a hundred years, and one day, when you’re mother of the groom, you will give this necklace to our eldest son’s future bride.”
“Our…son?” Her heart somersaulted.
“Eldest son,” he corrected as he returned the necklace and retrieved a blue velvet box from his pocket. She held her breath as he flipped the lid and presented a ring. “That is, Emma Morgan, if you’ll marry me.”
If Noah lived a million lifetimes,he’d never forget the look on Emma’s face. The ‘O’ shape of her lips. The lift of her brows. The gentle flare of her nostrils. The sharp intake of breath.
“Noah.” She touched the ring as if it were a figment of her imagination.
“I love you, Emma Morgan. There is no one else I want to share my life with. No one else I want to have children with, to wake up with year after year, to grow old with, to share the ups and downs of life with.” With his thumb, he swiped at the lone tear that slid along her cheek. “Corazón, say yes so that we can begin our life together.”
“Sorry.” But she didn’t sound sorry. Her laugh was too drunk and giddy. “I thought I already had.”
She launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her mouth to his, the smart, amazing woman he’d spend the rest of his life with. He forced himself to pull back just long enough to slide the ring onto her second finger.
She held her hand out so that the stone sparkled in the sun. “It’s gorgeous, Noah.”
“Gorgeous indeed.” But he wasn’t looking at the ring. “It was my Grandmother Whitlow’s. She wanted me to have it so that I could give it to my future wife.”
“Future wife. Holy crap, Noah, I’m going to be your wife!” She twined her fingers through his hair and offered him her lips, but the sound of tires rolling on the driveway drew his attention. He recognized the car and the driver before Ethan stepped out.
Despite years of contention, Noah smiled. His cousin had surged to his defense when Hill had come to his office. Ethan had even been the one to call for Emma and—
“It was you.” Realization leveling him, Noah looked from Ethan to Emma for confirmation. “You’re Emma’s confidential client. You’re the reason—”
That Phillip had been arrested and not me, but Noah didn’t dare add the latter.
Ethan had turned evidence on his father. Noah couldn’t imagine what kind of courage that had taken. Or what kind of emotional backlash Ethan must be experiencing.
“I didn’t know what Father was planning,” Ethan said. “He kept talking about a scheme to prove that I could run Whitlow Group. I thought he was talking about the fundraiser, but when I heard about the fire at Emma’s house, it made me start wondering.”
“And when he found evidence,” Emma picked up, “he confronted his father. After that went south, he and I connected. We’ve been working with the police and DA for days, helping them build their case. Now, I was hoping the two of you could sit down and discuss ways to heal in the aftermath, both as the future custodians of Whitlow Group and as a family.”
She was right. His family needed to heal, but so did hers. It might be two different types of healing, but Noah would figure out a way to do both. He’d bring his family back together and give her her brother back. But that was a miracle for another day.
He linked his fingers with Emma’s. He already had today’s miracle.