Chapter 18 Emma Jane
Emma Jane
The new reverend is an elderly gentleman with a pleasant smile and a warm aura. Overall, I think he will make the congregation feel at ease after the sleazy Elton Philip.
“Knightley’s single now, did you hear?” Henrietta’s voice causes me to jump, but when I turn to face her, she’s wearing a smirk. “Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
I think of last night. Of kissing his cheek before I left.
I all but told him I’d marry him, and I’m not sure exactly where that came from other than the murky depths of my soul.
Because it’s true.
I more than like Knightley.
I’m in love with him.
After he encouraged me to take over Books and Beans, I knew I wanted him by my side for the entire process. For the rest of my life. And I think he feels the same way.
“I want to,” I say, looking over Knightley. He’s talking with Marcus, and when he sneaks a glance my way, his smile broadens. I can’t help but smile in return. We did that for the entire church service. He sat in the row across from me, and we kept catching each other stealing glances.
Knightley is rocking plaid pants again, and when he starts walking my way (I haven’t lifted my eyes from the way his thighs look in those bad boys), my breath hitches and my heartbeat picks up. Henrietta shoves me toward him, and I all but stumble into his arms.
“Easy there, Janie.”
I glare back at Henrietta. “It was my so-called friend.”
He laughs then takes my hand.
In front of everyone!
Something has definitely shifted.
“I’m stealing you away for lunch. Is that okay?” But he’s already pulling me behind him toward his truck.
“By all means,” I say in a mock exasperated manner through girlish giggles.
Once we are inside his truck, we drive in mutual silence to the nearest grocery store.
“I’ll be quick. Stay here.”
“Grab a water for me, please,” I call as he shuts the door.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s back in the truck with two armfuls of grocery bags.
“Here’s your water.” He tosses it to me from the back seat where he’s setting down everything he bought.
“What’s going on?” I ask, eyeing the folded black outdoor blanket.
“We are going on a picnic.”
“What? Where?”
He chuckles as he cranks the truck back up. “Down to the lake behind your house.”
We once more fall into silence as he drives, but my nerves are popping. He hasn’t stopped smiling this entire drive—from the church to the store and now to the lake. What is he doing? Why do I feel like a bundle of nerves?
But also, I feel settled. Whole. Complete as a finished puzzle.
I’m going to tell him. I don’t know why he wants to take me on a picnic, but I pray it’s because he feels the same way I do. All the signs are there. The feeling of something new is in the air.
I’m going to woman-up and tell him that I love him.
Okay, maybe I’ll start by saying I like him. As more than a friend. Make sure I don’t scare him off in case I’ve been reading everything wrong.
We arrive at the lake, and the sun reflects brightly off the water, causing diamonds to sparkle across the top of the surface. There is a light breeze, and the bracing autumn air is perfect.
I help him unload everything, and he talks me through all the foods he bought. Meats, cheeses, fruits, crackers, and chocolates. A wonderful combination.
After everything is set up, there’s nothing left to do but sit down and eat.
And talk…
I clear my throat, trying to be brave. “Why did you bring me out here for a picnic, Knightley?”
He stops mid-bite of a meat and cheese cracker. “I just thought it’d be nice. It’s a beautiful day, and I wanted to make sure we were okay from yesterday.”
He’s rambling, so I stand.
“What are you doing?” he asks, but when I walk a few steps over to the tree, he stands and follows.
Taking a deep breath, I decide it’s now or never.
I’ve never been one to back down from something I want, and I want Knightley George Austen. And judging by everything that happened last night and this random picnic, I think he wants me, too.
I plant my palms against his chest, heat burning through the thin, green fabric, and I shove him against the tree.
“Emma Jane. What in the world are you doing?” Knightley’s chest heaves underneath my palms, his back against the tree as red tints his pale, freckled face.
Wild blue eyes stare at me like saucers awaiting a cup of tea.
His hands are pressed against the oak, and I don’t miss the way his long fingers strain as if he’s gripping the bark to keep from grabbing something else.
Someone else.
Me.
“What you won’t do.” I stretch to my tiptoes, squeezing my eyes closed and taking the biggest matchmaking risk of my life. The last one of this stupid business I plan to dissolve. The moment my lips should be colliding with his, I’m met with…
Beard hair.
Infiltrating my mouth and poking my nose.
I open my eyes to a blurry vision of red hair, then I take a small step backward. “Did you just block me from kissing you?”
“Pray tell, Emma. Why are you trying to kiss me?” Knightley’s voice is tainted with a gravelly rasp.
“Because I’m pretty sure you like me the way I like you. And I do mean as much more than family friends, Squire.”
He swallows, shifting his eyes away from my lips. ”Janie, you’re thirteen years younger than me.”
His hands release the tree bark and fall to his side.
“So?”
“You want an old codger like myself?”
His fingers twitch at his side as his head, ever so subtly, tilts toward me.
“I’m a grown woman, Knightley. I can choose who I want.”
“And you want me? You truly want me?”
“I do.”
He sighs as if every piece of his puzzle is falling into place. “How did I not see you sooner, Janie?” Knightley’s breath washes over my face, minty and uniquely him. He moves his hand to my face, his thumb swiping across my bottom lip. “Are you positive?”
“I tried to kiss you. Of course, I’m positive. I started this.”
He closes his eyes. “And you want me to finish it?”
I let out a breathy, victorious yes, my eyelids fluttering closed, the afternoon sun fading from view.
“I love you, Emma Jane Williams. What I feel, it’s more than simply liking you.
Words can’t do my feelings justice. You are charmingly selfish, beautifully calculating, witty, intelligent, fun, and perfectly imperfect.
If I kiss you, this is for forever. Got it?
There’s nothing more to say, so stop me if you’re not going to marry me.
Because it’s you or no one for me, Janie. ”
My stomach leaps with excitement at his declaration, and I loop my arms around his neck, tugging lightly at the back of his hair as I grin. He’s it for me, too. I never had a desire to marry because of my condition. I've never been much of a romantic.
But Knightley? He makes me want it all. And because it's him, I know he will love and accept me whether I can give him a child or not. I know he will hold my hand when I'm sad about it. I know he will remind me that my worth isn't in childbearing.
For Knightley… I will take the jump. I will choose forever. “Oh, I’m going to marry the heck out of you.”
His lips press against mine, soft and cautious. He tastes of strawberry lip balm, endless possibilities, and the culmination of hope I never dared to allow myself to consider until last night when he said he’d be a fool not to marry me.
Marriage.
To Knightley Austen.
A man who’s been in my life for as long as I can comprehensively remember, and even before that.
He deepens the kiss, and whereas I started this escapade, he now fully controls it. His lips dance with mine in a perfect waltz, slow and steady and sure. When he straightens, tilting my jaw up to follow him, a low rumble sounds from his chest.
Or is it mine?
Am I capable of that noise?
These feelings… They are all explosive and new. Like a puzzle, I want to piece him together just to break him apart. In the most delicious of ways…
I now understand why Halle said she didn’t wait until marriage. We are going to have to be very careful.
Knightley bites my bottom lip, and I surrender to him until I can’t remember my own name.
Finally, after what could have been centuries, he steps back, breathing heavily. I feel lighter than I have in months. And I’m exceptionally glad to report I now enjoy kissing.
He meets my eyes and a huge grin breaks across his face. “This is real?”
“It’s so real.” I throw my arms around his neck and drag his lips back down to mine. He loves me for all my faults. He will stand by my side as I continue to work through them all. He will call me on my crap, and I will fight him over it. He will win, and I will love every single second of it.
But then a thought breaks through my lovestruck haze. “We have to tell Papa.”