Chapter 5
5
JOSH
I t feels like I'm coming out of a long coma. As if I've been half-asleep for years, but now that Emie is here, everything is stretching awake.
Even though I asked Emie three times to sleep in and let me take care of coffee and breakfast, I'm not the least bit surprised when I walk into the kitchen at six-thirty in the morning to see her scrambling eggs.
"Good morning!" she chirps brightly. "Please don't get mad. I don't sleep well my first few nights in a new place, and I was up early. Deal with it."
My exaggerated grumbling makes her laugh as she pushes me into a chair and sets a coffee in front of me. I’ll let it slide. I want her to be incredibly comfortable here until it becomes our space. Plus, I can see from a quick glimpse into the pantry cupboard that she is an organizational fiend. How do you create so much extra space just by moving things around?
Also, I'm a pretty healthy guy, but if she manages to keep sneaking in vegetables, like the spinach and orange pepper in these scrambled egg English muffin sandwiches, I'm going to live to be a hundred.
During breakfast we chat about everything under the sun, including her passion for organization and interior design, and how she seems completely fixated on usability and the way people move through spaces.
I see this in action when we get to the grocery store with Emie's massive shopping list in hand. Even though she's never been in this particular store she navigates the aisles like a pro, with no steps wasted.
Back at the house, Emie politely kicks me out of my own kitchen so she can put the groceries away in an organized fashion.
Plopping myself down at the dining room table in case she needs any guidance, I check my texts. There's a small noise, and I look around to see her stretching to put something on a high shelf, giving me a glorious view of her round, peachy ass.
I haven't even taken this beautiful woman out on a date yet, but I'm picturing her in my bed. Wondering what other noises she'll make when those graceful legs are wrapped around me. Would she finally sleep in if I kept her up all night long, making her cry out my name?
But I’m a freaking Wolfe. Which means that the second I start dating someone, it'll become huge local news.
How do I take her somewhere special while still keeping things private for now?
Skimming my texts again, only one of them is important. And if Emie is as adventurous as I suspect she is, it could be a good substitute for a date.
"Why are you grinning like that?" she asks.
"You're interested in what I do, right? Would you like to see what I do first-hand?"
Her eyes light up. "Hell yes."
"Have you ever flown in a Cessna?"
Several hours later, Emie is leaving bruises on my arm from how tightly she's squeezing me. That's fine – I will gladly wear any mark from this gorgeous, precious girl.
"This is freaking amazing!" she squeals. "Do you ever get used to this?"
My palm skims up and down her thigh, the vibration of the plane shaking us together. "Only a little. I love seeing the forest this way."
As I drag my gaze back to the rolling landscape below us, Emie squeezes my arm more gently. "I really admire how much you love this land. Now, what are we looking for exactly?"
Riggs, our pilot and my old friend, chuckles. "He gets the actual information from drones in the air, and local reports on the ground. Josh says this twice-a-year flight is so that he can personally check everything." He flashes a glance over his shoulder to Emie. "Really, I think he's deeply in love with the trees and sees them as pets."
My boot delivers a swift kick to the back of his chair, causing Emie to practically dig her fingernails through my flesh right through my shirt. "Do not antagonize the pilot," she hisses, although her eyes are smiling. "This is my first time in an airplane, for goodness’ sake."
Riggs and I both turn to stare in surprise, then I take her hand off my arm and thread my fingers through hers. "Emie, you should have said something."
Riggs chuckles. "If you weren't Josh's girl, I would let go of the controls and turn all the way around to talk to you, just to see if you freak out. But out of respect for him, I won't kid around."
Emie's eyes are huge as she looks at me, then down at our clasped hands. "I didn't…" she whispers.
I lean in to kiss her cheek. "It's okay. All good."
She nods eagerly. I change the subject by pointing out the boundaries of our property, and the surrounding towns. Wolfe Mountain is a mix of forests and farmland dotted with small towns, all held together with slim gray ribbons of minor highways.
Emie seems fascinated with the details, listening carefully as I point out the spots where trees have fallen during various storms, where a small forest fire took out a quarter of an acre several years ago, and where previously logged areas are growing back.
"How much of this land is yours?"
That question has always bothered me. Some members of my family think of "ours" as in the entire family's. If that's how she means it, I'd have to ask Riggs to fly a couple more laps.
Releasing her hand to slip my arm around her, I pull her with me to lean to the right. "See that bit of highway? Follow the crossroads a bit to the open patch. That's my house. I own about seventy acres all around it."
She blinks in surprise. "That sounds like a lot. Is it?"
Riggs snorts. "Not for the Wolfes. If you ever sit down with a survey of the area, you'll"—I kick the back of his chair—"be, ahh, impressed by the lovely forests the family cares for." He glances back at me, smirking. "How's that? Or did you want to drive?"
"Good enough," I growl.
After taking a slew of photos and answering endless questions, we land in Charlotte, thank Riggs, and drive back to my house.
All the while, Emie's mind is racing on the one problem I was hoping to get an answer to on this trip – where the bird watchers can stay if we get more of them to visit our town.
By the time we get home, she's still asking questions. I take her over to the couch and place a finger over her lips. "Beautiful, I never want to silence you. But I do want you to rest. Is that reasonable?"
Her grin is cutely saucy and I drop my hand to kiss her gently. "Yeah," she finally murmurs against my lips. "I'm just wired from all the adrenaline. That was so unbelievably cool."
Her soft, graceful body feels so good in my arms as we sprawl across the couch. Emie is rather short, and curvy in all the right places. She's so graceful as she moves, her fingers trailing through my hair, her foot skimming up my calf.
"I need to make you dinner," I mumble, not wanting to break our kiss.
"I want to cook," she says. "It's the least I can do." I growl, but she rolls her eyes as if I were a kitten trying to roar like a lion. "Fine. I'll let you help."
"No way. My kitchen, my rules."
"Try and stop me, buddy." Emie jumps up, tossing her hair at me. Before I can even get to my feet, she's tied her hair up in a clip and is pulling things from the fridge.
I stride in, then my hands circle her waist. "I'll never stop you, Emie. But I might…distract you."
She looks up at me, eyes blazing. "I dare you."