Chapter 17 Knightley
Knightley
The lights inside of Books and Beans are on, but the closed sign is hanging on the door. An elderly man hobbles from around the coffee bar and gets the door for us.
“Emma Jane,” he says though his eyes cut to me. “You brought your mayor friend?”
She laughs and taps my forearm. “We were having dinner when you called, so I brought him along.”
“Very well,” Mr. Sam says, motioning for us to follow him inside. “I’ve made some tea for us, but it looks like I’ll need to make one more cup.”
Emma Jane tells him to go ahead and sit, saying she will make a cup for me.
Once we are all sitting at the center table of the cafe, Mr. Sam sighs.
“I opened this cafe with my wife many years ago. She wanted to create a place where people could connect. A place for friends to gather and for business deals to take place. A place for strangers to meet and for introverts to escape to within the pages of a book.” He pauses, his brown eyes flicking between me and Emma Jane. “A place for lovers to come together.”
My eyes drift to Emma Jane, and she’s looking at me. Not with an uncomfortable expression, but with…
Want. Desire.
Could she possibly…?
She came out to dinner with me. Dare I get my hopes up?
“We always thought I’d be the one to go first, you know?”
“Why is that?” Emma Jane asks, her attention turning back to the elderly man.
He chuckles. “She was fifteen years younger than me. Not once did I think I would outlive her, and well, I wish that wasn't the case.”
I catch her gaze again, and that same expression—curious eyes, parted lips, and a slight tilt of the head—has me thinking thoughts I have no business thinking.
Or…can I have those thoughts? Mom seems to not mind us together if all of her little comments about us over the past year mean anything. Mallory encouraged me, though I had no inkling she knew about my unsolicited feelings toward Emma Jane. I will have to ask her about that later.
“I wish I could have known her,” Emma Jane says, clearing her throat. She’s still looking at me, however. “Ask her how she navigated falling for an older man.”
Did she just—
Breath leaves my body as I process her words. Emma Jane and Mr. Sam continue talking, and I tune back into the conversation just in time to hear him offer her the business at no cost.
"I've thought about your request to purchase Books and Beans, and I prayed over whether to sell or not.
But God gave me a clear answer to give this place to you and move to be with my daughter.
She's pregnant, and I want to be closer to my grandchild.
It is time to let this place go." Mr. Sam smiles softly, crinkles forming around his eyes.
Emma Jane leaps up and accepts the offer with a tearful hug while I try to make sense of this random act of kindness.
“What just happened?” My brain is loading, catching up. When they both give me their attention—Mr. Sam nods and Emma Jane grins ear-to-ear—I say, “This is amazing, Emma Jane.”
She eyes me warily, wiping a falling tear. “You aren’t going to say I’m in over my head? Tell me I’m not cut out for business ownership?”
I shake my head, clearing the fog. “Not at all. You are cut out for this type of business ownership. You will do amazing things here. Matchmaking, yes, I was doubtful. But this… This was meant for you, Janie.”
More tears spill from her eyes and she hugs me. I hold her tight. She feels fragile in my arms, but oh so warm and soft. Against my ear, she whispers, “Thank you, Knightley.”
He goes over paperwork with her, and I review it to make sure there are no loopholes in the contracts. It’s not that I don’t trust Mr. Sam, but I want to protect Emma Jane at all costs.
After thirty minutes or so, I’m escorting her out of her new building and saying goodbye to Mr. Sam. Once he drives off, we look at each other and laugh.
“I can’t believe I own Books and Beans now.” Her incredulous expression is adorable, and without thinking, I lift her into my arms and spin her around. When I lower her to the ground, she doesn’t release her arms from around my neck, so I don’t drop my hands from her hips.
We stare into each other’s eyes, and it’s as if we are asking a million questions.
Is this okay?
Do you feel the same way?
Can we do this?
Is this weird?
Yes. Yes. Yes. And no.
In fact, it’s anything but weird. She is fresh air and a feisty spirit to my calm and collected one.
I’m pulled toward her lips as if an invisible string is tugging us together, but right before I make contact, she steps away.
“Knightley, there are things you don’t know.”
“Like what?”
She takes my hand, and I thread my fingers between hers, following her as she leads us down the sidewalk. She doesn’t talk until we turn off the main road and head toward one of the town’s little nature trails.
We arrive at a bench, and she drops my hand and sits. “I can’t get married, Knightley. I—”
I take her hand, cupping it between both of mine. She pegs me with a sharp stare, then casts her gaze down to her black boots. “Tell me, Janie.”
“I have PCOS. My mother had it, too, apparently. I was having a flare that day you came into my room thinking I was sick. I most likely can’t have kids. Even if I did get pregnant, it would be high risk. So I can’t get married because I can’t give a man children. Plus, there’s my father.”
My thumb mindlessly sweeps against the underside of her wrist as I process her words. The wind picks up, and she shivers. I curse under my breath, wishing I had a jacket with me. Instead, I wrap my arms around her, acting as a shield against the wind. She smells of sweetness and…
Home.
Forget the jacket. This is a thousand times better. She leans her head against my shoulder, her shoulders rising and falling with light sobs.
When she finally sits back and looks at me with her tearful eyes, I bring my hand to her cheek. “Janie, do not associate your marital worth with your childbearing capabilities.”
She nods her head, but she’s still not smiling.
“Why are you just now telling me this?” I ask.
Her glistening gray eyes flick to my lips, and it takes everything within me not to kiss her. Now is not the time. Not when she’s feeling so invaluable.
“Knightley,” her eyes move back up my face, “do you—” She pauses, releasing a sigh. “Do you think—”
She shakes her head, a laugh of disbelief passing through her lips.
I hook my finger under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Emma, I want you to know that you are the most precious woman in my life. Any man would be a fool to not want to marry you if that is something you choose to do.”
“Including you?” she asks, and I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
After a moment, I stand and grab her hand. “Let’s start heading back to our vehicles before it gets any later.”
We walk in companionable silence, though a million unspoken declarations and questions hang above our head.
It’s time I face the facts.
Emma Jane wants something more with me. Do her feelings run as deep as mine? By her little marriage comment, I’m hopeful, but also, she could have just been teasing me or seeking validation in her fragile state.
Whatever it may be, it’s time to find out.
We reach our vehicles, and I open her car door as she stands unmoving beside me.
Before I realize what’s happening, she rises to her tiptoes, places a hand on my shoulder, and kisses my cheek. She ducks under my arm and slides into her car, shutting the door. I’m stunned as she drives off, my hand mindlessly rubbing the heated spot on my face.