Chapter 40 Emmett
Emmett
I have to tell her. I should’ve done it last night.
Shit, I should’ve done it weeks ago.
Reese should know that I’m in love with her.
Sure, there’s a good chance she already knows, but she should hear it from me. I’ve learned that life is too short not to tell people that you love them.
Reese had to leave the wedding venue early this morning to get to work, but I needed to stay back and make sure everything was cleaned up and paid for. As she sat at the end of the mattress we slept on last night, buckling the strap on her high heel, I almost told her then.
I swallowed the words down, though. It didn’t feel big enough. It didn’t feel special enough to tell her while she was getting ready for work, and I was lying naked in the bed we shared the night before.
I almost said fuck it and told her when I walked her to her car, but then a couple of my players passed by and ruined the moment.
But as soon as she drove away, I regretted not telling her. At this point, she just needs to know. And truthfully, I can’t think of a better place to tell her than at the field. So that’s where I am. On the team’s day off. I’m just going to pop in and let her know that I’m in love with her.
I take the elevator to the top floor where her office is. It’s a Tuesday, so even though the team is off today, everyone else from the front office is here to work.
A normal day for all of them.
I couldn’t tell you the last time one of my days felt normal or mundane. Life is exponentially brighter lately and today feels like another one of those vibrant days. Even more so after last night.
I turn into Reese’s office, passing the vacant reception desk, only to find her office empty too. Her bag is here, hanging on the hook on the wall. There’s a full mug of coffee sitting on her desk, but it looks cold at this point.
I give it a few minutes, waiting for her to come back from wherever she ran off to, but soon the silence becomes more than I can handle, and I decide to go in search of her instead.
There’s only one other place she could be, especially on a day the players aren’t here.
Taking the elevator to the clubhouse level, I walk down the tunnel that leads to the dugout.
Glancing to the right, two red-bottom heels stick out past the partition, legs stretched over the bench, ankles crossed.
Turning the corner, I find Reese sitting on the ledge where I’ve found her so many times before.
Her attention shoots to me immediately. “Emmett.” There’s an edge of panic in her voice. “What are you doing here?”
I step forward, shins to the bench, getting as close to her as I can, but she pulls her legs back as I do.
“I need to tell you something, Reese.”
She tracks the space around us, unable to focus on me. Too worried about someone else walking up on us, I guess. “Yeah,” she exhales. “I need to tell you something too.”
Her words don’t come out eager the way mine do. Instead, her statement is laced with dread.
“Is everything okay?”
“No.” Her throat bobs in a thick swallow. “It’s not.”
Panic pricks my skin. This heavy impending doom settles between the two walls on either side of us, suffocating this small corner. When I examine Reese more closely, there’s an almost vacant look on her usually expressive face.
I slide my hand over her thigh. “Reese, tell me what’s wrong.”
So I can fix it, I silently add.
Looking around again, she takes my hand off her leg and drops it at my side. “You can’t do that, Emmett. Not here. Not anymore.”
Okay. We’ve literally fucked in her office here, so I’m not sure why she’s tripping out over me hardly touching her while no one is around.
But then that last part replays in my head. Not anymore.
Alarms sound off as my stomach sinks to a nauseating level.
“You’re freaking me out, Reese. What’s going on?”
Her deep blues trail over my face, as if she were memorizing it. Tracing the shape of my lips. The line of my jaw. It’s almost unnerving in a way, but only because I plan to be right next to her for a long time to come. She doesn’t need to memorize anything.
At least, that’s what my dwindling hope is trying to reassure me. We’re still okay. We still have plenty of time.
On the ledge beside her, Reese grabs an envelope and holds it in her lap before finally extending it toward me. She doesn’t explain the contents, but as soon as I open it, she doesn’t need to.
My heart hammers when I see the first picture, but in the best way. Because these pictures so clearly show how much I love this woman. How right we fit together. How happy we are.
Were, my brain screams.
These pictures showcase how proud she is to have me next to her.
How adoringly I watch her even when she’s not looking.
Honestly, some of these should probably be framed so I can have a couple in my apartment.
I think they may be our very first pictures we’ve taken together, other than the professional ones that were snapped last night.
And for only a second, I truly enjoy flipping through them.
Until I realize what they are.
Someone took these last night and it wasn’t the wedding photographer.
“Where did these come from?”
My eyes flit up to Reese to find her watching me thumb through the photos. She’s overwhelmed, checked out, but there’s an underlying apology in her features.
“Scott.”
“What do you mean, ‘Scott’?”
“Scott paid someone to take them last night. I walked into my office to find him waiting for me this morning with that envelope.”
I could fucking kill him.
I slip the envelope into the back pocket of my jeans. “Where is he?”
“Emmett. No.”
“Where the fuck is he, Reese? I’m not playing around here. Whatever this is, if he wants to threaten us, he can threaten me.”
I turn to leave, anger pulsing through my veins. I don’t even know what he wants or what he thought he’d get out of stalking us like a fucking psychopath, but I will very quickly teach him that I’m the last person he wants to play this game with.
Reese grabs my arm to stop me, standing from her seat on the ledge as she does. “Emmett, you cannot go after him. It’s bad. What he’s threatening is bad. Do not give him any reason to follow through.”
A bit more of her natural fire shines through, and I realize now, she’s been trying to disassociate herself from whatever the hell happened in her office this morning.
I reach up to cup her face, wanting to touch her. Wanting to comfort her. But I drop my hand again before I can, knowing the last thing she’d want right now is to give someone else the opportunity to see us together. “What does he want?”
She exhales a sharp breath, bracing herself. “He wants me to make him President of Baseball Operations.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”
“It’s not that simple, Em.”
“It is that simple! That is your position. Something you’ve worked your entire life for. Someone else has already tried to take it from you. I’m not letting fucking Scott steal it from you over some pictures.”
“You’re not letting him do anything! This is my decision.”
That stops me in my tracks, tamping down a bit of my fight. We’re supposed to be in this together, but it sure doesn’t sound like we are.
“You can’t be seriously considering this, Reese.”
She looks up at me, holding her ground, but doesn’t say anything.
She is considering this.
I shake my head vehemently. “No.”
“I don’t have to explain to you what those pictures will do in the wrong hands.”
I want to argue with her about that, but I know she’s right. Our relationship could so easily get spun to appear to be something it’s not by anyone who wanted to sell that story. By someone who doesn’t like that Reese is in the position she’s in.
“Is that what he’s threatening? To give these to the press?”
“Yes.”
“And the only way to stop him is by giving up your position?”
“Yes.”
“Reese.” There’s resignation in the way I say her name because that’s exactly how I feel right now. Utterly defeated.
This is the last thing I want for her. I’m supposed to protect her, but instead, I was careless.
I was too comfortable with the fact we hadn’t gotten caught by the wrong person yet.
I promised her she’d be safe in public with me and look what happened.
This is my fault and she’s going to lose everything she’s ever worked for, everything she’s ever wanted, because of me.
“I’ll be fine,” she forces out. “There’s going to be an advisory board meeting tomorrow. He wants me to step down then.”
“Tomorrow?”
That gives her no time to prepare. No time to think this through. No time to find a different option.
“Reese.” I have no clue what else to say to her other than, “I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”
She shrugs, trying to act casual, but she’s so clearly heartbroken. “It’s not your fault, Em. And there’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m still glad I was there with you last night. I’m still glad I met you. I don’t regret anything that’s happened.”
I hate everything about the way those words settle into me.
They feel . . . final.
Here I was, coming to tell her how much I love her, and now I can’t. Now I might never be able to. Not when me telling her might cause her to make a decision she thinks is best for me and not for herself.
“Do you want me to come by tonight?” I ask. “We can talk it out. Look at all our options.”
She steels her spine and puts her best professional face forward. The one I haven’t seen in a while. The one she always used to wear when she first got here.
“I think it’d be best if we were more careful right now. We don’t need to give anyone else a reason to make this worse for us.”
I think I’m going to be sick.
“I’m going to . . .” She points up, telling me she needs to get back to work. “Let me handle this, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
That’s the last thing I want her to do. I want to figure this out together. I want to protect her from all the bullshit that’s running circles in her head right now.
But there she goes, being adamant about taking care of herself again.
I’m desperate to ask her if we’re okay. If we’ll be okay. But I’m also terrified of the answer.
So, I don’t ask.
I just let go back to her office alone.
After I give myself some time outside, wrapping my head around what the fuck just happened, I swing by her office to let her know I’m heading out.
But when I go to turn the handle, I find that, for the first time ever, her door is locked.