Chapter Thirty-Nine
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
MILLIE
A fter his mother and sister left, we sat down and ate in comfortable silence.
Though I was still partial to Emmett’s version of his mother’s recipe, hers was a close second.
Once we finished, he made quick work of the dishes while I went in search of my medicine.
I came back to find Emmett unloading the bags he brought in earlier. Pausing in the doorway, I watched as he sorted through his haul. Though, it wasn’t what I would have expected. There were bath bombs, a few different candles in various soothing scents, and a heated blanket along with fuzzy slippers. Not to mention, chocolate—lots and lots of chocolate. Sea salt, caramel, dark, with nuts—you name it, he had it.
He purchased quite the self care collection, but it was when he pulled out a pink satin eye mask that I cocked a brow.
“That’s definitely your color,” I called out. His head shot up, and I grinned. “What is all of this?” I asked curiously when he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.
“Just stopped at Vincent’s to pick up some things I thought might help you settle in better.” He sighed while staring at the items piled on the countertop. “Maybe I went a little overboard,” he admitted sheepishly.
This wasn’t a side of Emmett I had ever seen before. Unsure, even a little demure. My heart sped up, and butterflies erupted low in my belly.
This sweet, stubborn man.
He got all of this even after I told him I didn’t need anything, then had the nerve to act like it was no big deal. But it was a big deal. Everything he’d done for me in the past week was a big deal.
No, more than that. It was everything. He was everything—everything good and gracious, and I’d never been more thankful for him than I was in this very moment. Except for the moments when he saved my life—I was still working hard to remember those.
“How are you feeling?” he questioned, concern marring his features.
“Sore,” I admitted. “But better.”
“Up for a quick tour?” Emmett asked like he could tell my thoughts had taken a nosedive. He moved to lean against the counter, dish rag thrown over his shoulder.
At some point, he’d ditched his uniform button-up—leaving him in a tight fitted black tee. The way it accentuated all of the hard musculature of his chest and arms had those butterflies flapping faster. Hair tousled and smile genuine, I would gladly follow this man anywhere.
“Lead the way,” I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. The pain medicine needed a few more minutes to kick in, anyway. After that, I’d likely be down for the count.
I was already pretty familiar with the first floor’s layout, so we started in the basement. As we descended the stairs, he took my hand and laced his fingers through mine—guiding me carefully down the steps. At the bottom, the comforting scent of freshly laundered linen enveloped me, and Emmett pointed to an area partitioned off from the rest of the open space. I stared in fascination—there were labeled hampers for organizing dirty clothes as well as a washer, dryer, dedicated folding area, and clothesline for hanging more delicate items.
“It’s amazing,” I whispered in awe.
Emmett chuckled. “I prefer this side of the room, personally.” He swept his hand out, showcasing the rest of the basement.
This was like no basement I’d ever seen—where I was from most were made of cinder block and served as storm shelters or storage space.
A massive gray sectional in front of a large screen television took up a majority of the room. From DVDs to boardgames, shelves housing an impressive entertainment collection served as the only wall decor.
It was the accordion glass doors that had my attention, though. Along with the dreamscape they opened onto.
String lights lit the walkout patio. There was a fire pit surrounded by wooden Adirondack chairs as well as a small kitchenette area. But in the middle of it all sat the main feature—a hot tub. Its steam billowed, disappearing into the chilly night air much like my inhibitions as I imagined climbing inside and soaking my soreness away. I moaned at the enticing thought.
The silence that followed was electric. Taking a deep breath, I looked to Emmett and found his eyes already on me—ablaze with what I could only assume was lust. I gulped, and his gaze followed the movement of my throat.
Had we gotten closer? I could feel the heat of his body as his chest brushed against my sling. I flinched reflexively, and the moment evaporated.
Emmett took a step back, scratching at his beard while I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and fidgeted with the stud earring there.
“Let’s head back upstairs,” he offered and held his hand out for me to go first. I ambled up the stairs but almost tripped before Emmett reached out to steady me. His touch lingered as I continued the climb.
I felt his breath on my neck as he murmured, “Careful,” in a low, rough voice that made shivers run up my spine and those butterflies perk up again.
We made our way to the second floor without any further incident. This level was exactly what I expected. Three guest rooms and a bath at the end of the hall. We passed what looked like ladder rungs that disappeared into a cutout in the ceiling.
“Hey, what’s this?” I called out. Emmett had kept walking, not realizing I had stopped .
He turned and made his way back to me, a grin stretching across his face.
“The Lookout Loft!” he exclaimed as his face turned wistful. “How could I forget?”
“Lookout Loft?” I parroted in question.
“My dad spent an entire summer transforming an alcove in the attic into our own hidden hideaway,” Emmett said with so much affection it made my heart ache. “I never really appreciated all his hard work. At least, not until I renovated the patio.”
“You did it yourself? I would love to have a space like that someday. You did an amazing job,” I praised. I couldn’t wait to spend time out there. Hopefully I’d feel up to it soon.
“It was the first and last home renovation project I’ll tackle on my own.” He grimaced as we descended the stairs back to the main level. Laughing jarred my side and shoulder, and even though I tried to play it off, Emmett saw through my facade.
“I guess that ends the tour,” he said as we came to a stop outside our respective rooms. I took the bags of goodies Emmett grabbed from the kitchen and insisted on carrying.
“Thank you for these,” I said, lifting them then clarifying, “Thank you for everything, actually.”
“It’s no big deal,” Emmett said, waving off my gratitude. But that’s where he was wrong. So very wrong.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he added earnestly.
I stepped closer, mindful of my sling this time, and gripped his firm bicep for balance as I stood up onto my toes. Invading his space, I leaned in, leaving a featherweight kiss on his lips.
“I’m glad to be here, too,” I said, each word causing my lips to brush against his. I watched as his pupils dilated and felt the muscles in his arm flex under my hand, as if he was restraining himself.
Our lips met once more before I fell back on my heels. Smirking, I entered my room before throwing, “Goodnight…roomie,” over my shoulder as the door closed behind me.