Chapter 19
Emory
The grass was surprisingly warm under Emory’s toes.
Dry too, which surprised her considering the endless rain the past few days had brought and the mass of water that spread around the hill.
But propped up on their high ground, the sun had dried all the dew from the blades.
Afternoon sun glared across the water, so bright Emory had to squint, even with her sunglasses on.
Byron’s so-called backyard, which was mostly just the small flat patch of grass before the drop off of the hill, had become Clayton’s favourite place.
He loved testing Emory’s limits, inching closer to the floodwater with a cheeky grin.
Each time she called him back, he stomped a foot and trudged back towards the house.
As Clayton continued to run up and down the yard, Miff chased after him, barking.
She probably thought the young boy was another animal for her to herd, but he seemed to be enjoying it.
And all the while, Betty mooed from her spot on the grass, displeased by her shortened leash.
Emory hoped her basic knot would hold up against the cow’s pulling.
She’d grown accustomed to having the cow in such close quarters, but it was safer for Clayton this way.
He loved it here. It had been a slow realisation over the past few days, but Emory saw it clear as the blue sky now.
She supposed he always had a giant grin on his face whenever she came to pick him up.
He’d spent more time here over the past three years than he had with her at the cottage.
It stung a little, but Emory was glad he was able to spend time with family while she went off to work and study.
It was all going to change when she moved to the city, though. All of it. For so long, she’d thought she was so far past ready it was inevitable, but the flood had changed her. Being here, with Byron, had changed her.
“Clayton,” she warned when he stepped a little closer to the water than last time. “If you go any further, it will be time to go back inside. Come play on the slide.”
He made no move towards the old play equipment, but he did turn away from the water to pet Miff. Emory called it a win.
The sun was warm, soaking through her thin hoodie and burning her legs under her black leggings.
Moving backwards so she could keep an eye on Clayton, she made her way towards the porch.
She wanted to stay close, though, just in case he misjudged a sneaky step and toppled into the water.
Thankfully, the shade from the house reached across the lowest step.
Emory sat, resting her feet on the grass and leaning her elbows on the next step higher.
She kept one eye on her son, but her mind began to wander.
From that very first awkward morning, to all the little moments—and the big one—she and Byron had shared since, to what this aching feeling in her chest meant.
The chemistry between her and Byron had positively sparked, and now that they had set it free, there was no containing it.
She’d spent all day yearning for more of Byron.
A pit formed low in Emory’s gut at the thought. This was meant to be fun. It was meant to be a quick release to ease the tension. It wasn’t meant to be something she wanted to continue long after the flood receded. But now, that’s all she could think about.
Could it continue after the bridge reopened and she was free to go back to the cottage?
That was assuming she even could go back.
She had no idea if it was underwater or if this whole flooded in situation was the product of an overcautious weatherman.
But regardless, it couldn’t continue long term, she knew that.
As soon as she packed up whatever was left of the cottage and finished her course and found a job, she and Clayton would finally be on their way out of town.
She’d start her new life in the city.
With no one.
Fuck.
Emory had been waiting to leave town for three years, but one mind-blowing sexual encounter with a man, and she was having second thoughts.
There was that damned pull again. Her attraction to Byron had always been purely physical, she’d thought. But over the past couple of days, there was another layer she couldn’t shed. Something deeper. Something that scared the hell out of her.
Because it was a desire that had no place in her current situation. She couldn’t let feelings get in the way of her dreams. Not again.
Emory stretched her legs out in front of her, wriggling her toes in the grass. There was only one person she could think of who could help talk her heart out of this mess. She fished around the deep pocket of her hoodie, pulled out her phone, and dialled her best friend.
She set the phone to speaker then leaned back against her elbows. Clayton was still happily running laps, giggling every time Miff caught him.
“Is everything okay?” Mya’s concerned voice echoed through the phone line. The reception had cleared a little as the storms eased, but it was always a little sketchy here at the farm. Static interrupted every line.
“What? Of course everything is fine. How are you? How’s Tucker?”
Mya giggled but seemed to hold back the bulk of her laughter. “The cheek on you asking me how Tucker is right now?! How’s Byron?”
At the sound of his name, Emory’s heart did a little skip. It leapt into her throat and left behind an itching lump. She did her best to swallow it down.
“Your silence tells me everything,” Mya teased.
The phone beeped next to Emory. “I am not FaceTiming you.”
Mya huffed, and the annoying tune stopped.
Only for a second, though. It didn’t take much for Emory to give in.
She grabbed the phone from the deck as soon as the second round of high-pitched pings started.
Her arm ached as she held the phone above her, so she leant forward, propping her arms on her knees instead.
She pushed her sunglasses onto her head and took in her reflection on the screen while she waited for the video to connect.
Her eyes were dark. Even in the sunlight, the chocolate brown looked deeper than usual.
The rounds of her cheeks glowed with a pink blush.
She could blame the sun, but she knew it was residual from the excitement of every moment she’d shared with Byron.
The ones where she got to know him just as much as the ones where she got to know his body.
Mya would notice it, though, and she would make assumptions.
And sure, Emory had called for her advice, but she knew how Mya would react seeing her like this.
She was … glowing. But it wasn’t like she could do anything about it now.
Emory’s face became a tiny little square in the corner as Mya appeared on the screen. She gasped as the video connected.
“I knew it,” she squealed.
Emory shook her head, cringing when the action made some of her loose hairs fly around her face. Her sunglasses toppled into her lap. “You know nothing.”
“Em, honey. You clearly got laid. I don’t see any other explanation for the colour of your cheeks.”
Emory could feel them heating up already, the blush no doubt spreading, deepening, and giving away all her secrets. All she could manage was a shy nod and an audible sigh.
“I fucking knew it. I knew you would.” Mya moved about, shaking the phone. The unsteady video made Emory’s head spin.
“Was it good? I bet Byron would throw you around like a hay bale and it would feel fucking amazing.” Mya flopped onto a bed—Tucker’s bed, probably—rolled to her side, and propped her phone up. “Actually, don’t answer that. It’s my boyfriend’s dad. Ew. That’s kind of gross.”
Emory rolled her eyes, letting them close as she pulled out her failing hair tie.
Her hair dropped over her shoulder, but she looped it all to one side and tucked the front behind her ears.
She looked past the phone to where Clayton was now climbing on the small wooden structure.
He clapped when he reached the top, turning to her.
“Well done, Clay!” she cheered.
Turning back to Mya, Emory sucked in a deep breath. She needed her friend’s opinion, but God, it was hard voicing her feelings. If they even were feelings. She thought they might be, but she wasn’t sure. That was why she needed Mya’s help. Ugh.
In one long exhale, she threw the words out.
“We did. And it wasn’t gross, it was fucking amazing Mya, but …
I think maybe I caught feelings and now I don’t know what to do.
” With them all out in the open, Emory felt a little weight lift off her shoulders.
Her neck didn’t feel so tight. Unease still swirled in her stomach, though.
She thought she might be sick if Mya didn’t help her. Soon.
Mya hummed, scratching her cheek. Her grin peeked through her hand. “Hear me out, yeah?”
Emory nodded. She had no breath left, even if she wanted to speak.
Mya continued, “Would it be such a bad thing if you did catch feelings?”
She hadn’t thought about it like that. Sure, it had crossed her mind, but Emory had been so caught up in releasing the tension and giving in to her desire and trying not to fall for Byron that she never really stopped to think it through. It wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, would it?
Unless Byron didn’t feel the same way.
Unless Jaxon found out, because he would surely make a scene.
Unless the town grew to hate her even more because she stole another Gardner man from all the local ladies.
Unless …
None of it was certain, though. And all she was really thinking about were the negatives.
“What if Byron caught them, too?” Mya prompted.
Emory’s thoughts began to spiral further. What if Byron did have feelings for her?
Would they handle Jaxon together?
Would she care about the ladies in town if she were in love and happy?
Would she still finish her degree? Would she still want to leave town when she did?
Fuck. There was a lot to think about, and Emory had none of the answers.
Talking to Mya had only given her more questions.
Rolling her neck, Emory considered what it would mean to stay.
Clayton would be able to keep his relationship with his paternal family, and given his lack of relationship with his father, that was important.
There weren’t many marketing positions available in such a small town, but perhaps she could look for something remote.
Loads of companies offered that sort of flexibility nowadays.
And, okay, Emory would still be stuck in a town where, even though everybody knew her name, nobody said hello, but it was safe. She wouldn’t be starting again. Again.
And Byron would be here.
“Do you think he does?” Her voice wavered as she asked the question she so desperately needed to know the answer to.
Mya squished her cheek against a pillow but didn’t answer. Emory supposed she wouldn’t know anyway.
“I think the only way to find out is to ask him. You pull on your big girl panties and you say, ‘Hey, about all this great sex we keep having, I really like it, and I want to keep doing it, but I also really like you,’ and then you see what he says.”
Pins and needles trickled along Emory’s arm as she held the phone in front of her face. She shifted her position, changing hands and stretching her legs back in front of her.
“But what if he says he does?” she asked.
Truthfully, this whole situation scared the living hell out of her.
She was terrified that Byron didn’t feel the same way, that her stupid little heart had gotten carried away and was about to ruin everything and make the next week or so incredibly uncomfortable.
But she was equally frightened of the thought that Byron might have the same feelings for her.
Because what then? She still wanted to leave town.
She’d worked too hard at her degree to throw her career away for a man.
Even a man like Byron. The thought made her shoulders shake with laughter.
Not the kind that comes through boundless joy, but the uncertain giggle that creeps along skin and leaves a crease between brows.
“I wish I had the answers, Emory, but you’ll never know until you ask him.”
Mya squeaked then. “Gotta go, bye!” she squealed as the phone disconnected.
Emory furrowed her brow, unsure what had caused her friend to hang up. There was movement behind her, heavy footsteps along the deck, until Byron sat down on the step next to her.
“Ask me what, Em?”