Chapter 34
thirty-four
. . .
Emilia
The next few weeks passed in a blur. We all celebrated New Year’s Eve at Booze and Brews, and I’d been working hard on the renovation at Bridger’s home. I’d convinced him to stay at my house these last few days, because I wanted to surprise him with the final reveal.
He’d been working out of his office in the city most days, so it hadn’t been a problem. Thankfully the flower shop was much slower after the holidays, but things were starting to pick up with Valentine’s Day around the corner.
Tonight, I would finally reveal Bridger’s home to him, and I couldn’t wait. I’d just sent the two guys I’d hired to do some last-minute hanging for me home, and now I was getting the curtain panels up on the rod that they’d hung.
I stepped off the ladder and took it all in.
I’d never been so proud of anything I’d accomplished in my life.
This had turned into a much larger project than I’d anticipated. I’d ended up doing something in every single room in the house. And the space had been completely transformed. I carried the ladder back to the garage before sending a text to Bridger, letting him know it was time.
My stomach was in knots.
I loved every single detail, and I hoped he’d feel the same way. Most of the spaces had been blocked off with tarps when he’d stayed here, so he hadn’t seen the new fireplace since its installation.
I glanced at the blazing fire in the great room, and it was breathtaking.
I fluffed a few pillows and refolded the throw blanket for the fifth time, blowing out a breath just as I heard the front door open.
“Can I come in?” he called out from the entryway.
I hurried over to greet him, then pushed up on my tiptoes and kissed him.
I am madly in love with this man.
We hadn’t said the words, but I knew he felt it, too.
I was also very aware that this was all new for him, and he still continually told me that I deserved more than he could give me.
But occasionally he’d mention the future, and I wanted to believe we would figure it out together.
“Are you ready, lover boy?”
He smiled, since he always loved when I used the nickname for him. It was the little things with Bridger that exposed those tiny cracks in his tough exterior.
“Yes. Let’s see what you’ve done with the place.”
I took his hand and led him through the entry, coming to a stop when I turned toward the great room. The large arched wall added so much character, and the grand wood beams gave the room an added element of charm and history. The beams ran the length of the family room and kitchen.
He turned his head slowly, taking in every detail.
We walked toward the fire roaring at the other end of the room.
Above the mantel I’d placed a gorgeous oversized antique brass mirror I’d found, and I’d layered two framed art pieces that he’d loved by an artist in San Francisco.
The gorgeous French sconces matched the grand chandelier hanging in the center of the room.
The gray velvet sectional couch made a U shape, with cream pillows and an oversized throw to curl up with.
A beautiful lush cream area rug complemented the rustic wood floors just right, as did the lamps and a tall faux olive tree in the corner of the room.
Two antique bookcases balanced out the space on each side of the fireplace, holding memorabilia from his travels as well as books and candles—all evidence of a life full of adventures and memories.
Dramatic ivory-colored velvet curtain panels that had been custom-made for the tall windows hung on the sides of each pane, looking out toward the river.
I’d placed family photos on the end tables, and the room now looked like the heart of the home when you stepped in here.
He hadn’t said a word. My stomach continued to twist, and I looked up at him as he carefully scanned the space.
“I had no idea it could be like this,” he said, his deep voice finally breaking through the silence.
“Like what?” I asked.
“That it could still feel like me but also feel like a home.”
That was the best compliment he could have given me, because it had been his biggest concern. That it would feel like someone else’s home.
I led him to the kitchen, where we’d added a much larger table, two grand chandeliers over his kitchen island, and some antique corbels to match the custom hood that I’d had built to go over his range.
The additions changed the entire look of the room.
I’d added Roman shades in a simple classic linen to the French doors leading out to the backyard.
We moved from space to space, with a similar vibe in each room.
The addition of window treatments, none of which took away from the stunning views, added an organic warmth.
Antique chandeliers in each room brought some much-needed character, along with the wood beams that I’d had custom-made from a region in southern France.
His home told a story now. One that made his love of art and history known.
One that shared his travels and his adventures.
I’d removed the cold slate floors from the powder room, replacing them with an antique French limestone, along with a new black vanity and beautiful light fixtures and sconces to complement the space.
We walked from room to room.
He was quiet as he took it all in.
We ended in his bedroom, where I’d added the same detail that I’d added in the other spaces.
A warm area rug, window panels beside the large windows, new lighting and woodwork, and beams on the ceiling.
I knew he loved his bedding, so I’d added a throw blanket and some pillows to complement the space.
He sat down on the bed and studied me. “You are so fucking talented, angel. I’m blown away. Your talents are being wasted here in Rosewood River.”
I knew it was a compliment, but it also caught me off guard.
“There are plenty of people who need their homes decorated here in town.” I smiled as I moved forward, stepping between his legs.
His large hands wrapped around my hips. “It’s better than I ever imagined, and I’m a picky bastard. I was actually worried that I wouldn’t like it, and I didn’t want to have to tell you that. But this, this is—it’s fucking mind-blowing.”
“Really? You’re picky?” I asked, making no attempt to hide my sarcasm.
He chuckled with a nod. “Everything about you is unexpected.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. He looked tired.
“Everything about you is unexpected.” I tipped my head down and kissed him.
“I need you right now.” He found the hem of my skirt and lifted it to puddle around my waist.
I nodded while he unbuttoned his dress pants and shoved them down his legs as I moved forward, straddling him. He tore my panties right from the side of my hip, the lace falling to the floor, before he settled me just above the tip of his dick.
My hands were on each of his cheeks as I slid down, taking him in inch by glorious inch. My head fell back as he filled me.
He tugged my sweater up over my head before unbuckling my bra and tossing both items on the floor. His lips came over my hard peaks, licking and sucking each breast, giving them equal attention as I moved up and down his thick erection, slowly at first.
His fingers grazed along the back of my neck in the most soothing way.
He pulled back, tipping his head up to look at me. His hand moved to the side of my neck, his thumb gliding across my bottom lip.
“You’re so beautiful, angel. You take my breath away.” His words were filled with emotion, and it took me by surprise.
I continued moving, and he watched me like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
I saw everything in that dark gray gaze of his.
Adoration and love. Maybe even a little fear, which I desperately tried to ignore.
I was overcome with emotion.
Overwhelmed by my feelings for him.
“I love you, Bridger,” I whispered, my gaze locked with his.
He tugged my head down and kissed me hard before gripping my hips and moving me faster.
He moved his hand between us, knowing exactly what I needed.
My body started to shake as bright lights exploded behind my eyelids, and my head fell back on a cry. He gripped me tighter, thrusting into me once more, before he buried his face in my neck, and a guttural sound left him.
We continued riding out every last bit of pleasure, my arms wrapped around his neck and my cheek resting beside his.
Once our breathing had slowed, I pulled back to look at him.
I told him that I loved him.
He hadn’t said it back, and I didn’t need him to.
I already knew that he loved me.
But saying it would be another story.
“Hey,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ears. “You want to take a shower before bed?”
“Well, you do have that soaking tub in your bathroom, so we could test it out.”
“I haven’t taken a bath since I was a kid.” He chuckled. I’d used the tub several times when I was here, but Bridger usually sat on the floor beside the tub sipping his wine while we talked about our days. “But if you want me to soak in warm dirty water with you, I’ll do it.”
I laughed. “I’ll take it.”
We made our way to the bathroom, and I turned on the water, setting two towels on the built-in bench beside the tub. “You get in first, you’re taller.”
“That’s an understatement, shorty.”
He climbed in, wincing at how hot the water was, and I assured him his body would adjust and appreciate it in a few seconds.
I slipped in, settling in front of him and sitting between his thick thighs.
My back was pressed against his chest, and I used the hair tie on my wrist to tie my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head.
“You didn’t tell me how your lunch went today with the girls,” he said as he kissed the side of my neck.
“It was great. Henley asked me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding,” I said, leaning my head back to smile at him over my shoulder. “And she and Lulu were just telling me and Eloise all about their wedding plans and colors and all that fun stuff.”
“Weddings seem like a waste of money to me,” he grumped. “It’s all for just one day, and then it’s over.”
I chuckled. “I mean, I get that to an extent. But I also think it’s something that people dream about their whole lives, you know?
It’s a special day, and in some ways it’s like interior design.
You want your home to fit the people living there, and you want your wedding day to fit the couple and what they want.
I love going to weddings, because they also tell a story. ”
I’d been to several over the last few years; my college roommates had gotten married, and my cousin had also tied the knot. I loved when people brought in personal details to their special day.
He was quiet again.
But that was Bridger. He had to process things.
“We have dinner with your family tomorrow, right?” he asked.
He’d joined me at my parents’ house a few days after Christmas once they were feeling better, and of course it was nothing like his family holiday.
It was just my parents and Bridger and me.
But tomorrow, Jacoby and Shana were coming to town, and we were all having dinner.
My brother and Bridger knew one another from growing up in Rosewood River, but Jacoby was a few years older, so they didn’t know each other well.
“Yes. Dinner tomorrow.” I flipped over onto my stomach so I could face him. “You know they aren’t as fun as your family, though.”
“Oh, there won’t be grown men jumping out of large boxes and Christmas trees being tipped over?” He grinned as he ran the tips of his fingers along my cheek.
“Hey, that was the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I love your family. There’s always so much—joy over there.” It was the truth. My home was more… subdued. The Chadwicks’ home was always filled with laughter and life, and I loved spending Sunday evenings over there for dinner every week.
He studied me for a long moment. “Were you someone who thought about your wedding when you were a little girl?”
It was an abrupt change in conversation, but not unusual for Bridger.
“Umm…” I thought about the question, even though I already knew the answer.
Of course I’d thought about my wedding day as a kid, and throughout the years.
I was an avid romance reader. I loved the idea of love and happily ever after.
But I had a boyfriend who had a different idea of the future, and I didn’t want to scare him off.
We’d cross that bridge when we got there.
“Maybe once or twice.” I shrugged, trying to act casual about it.
“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice deep and gruff.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t ever change who you are or what you want for me.” He tipped my chin up to look at him, his gaze locked with mine.
“I know it’s not your thing, and I don’t want to freak you out.” I shrugged.
He closed his eyes for a few beats and then looked at me again. “Don’t worry about me, angel. I want to make sure you’re happy.”
“I’m happy.” I nipped at his bottom lip, and he laughed.
“All right. That’s all that matters to me.”
“You make me happy,” I whispered.
His gaze softened. “You make me happy, too.”
He tucked my head beneath his chin and kissed the top of my hair.
I love you.
I wanted to say it again to him, but I held back.
But I knew he felt it.
And I felt it, too.