Chapter Thirteen
Chris
Emily was acting . . . different .
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something was off.
When she came home last weekend, hungover and out of sorts, I joked about my good girl turning “bad” and Santa adding her to his naughty list. She laughed even though it made her head hurt.
The next day, we took Hudson to a nearby Christmas tree farm to pick out our tree. We took a picture in front of it and made hot cocoa that night.
I worked like a dog all week because people were calling out left and right because of the flu that was still going around. Even as tired as we both were, it was strange that neither of us made a move to be intimate at night.
The stress of the holidays was the most likely culprit.
I wanted her more than I did when I first met her. I loved her more and more every passing day. And when she looked at me, I felt the same thing from her.
But, like I said, something was different .
I blamed the funk we were in on the aftereffects of the time change and daylight savings time that had us both crashing into bed without a second thought every night.
Tonight was Friday night, and all I wanted to do was get home and spend the entire evening with my family.
Family , I thought, smiling as I pulled into my driveway. The only thing I didn’t love about my life right now was that Emily and I lived in two separate households. I hoped that would be changing very, very soon.
I walked through the front door with an especially merry pep in my step.
Just like every Friday, Emily and Hudson were at the kitchen table. I knew they’d already spent time outside with the dogs, and as usual, Hudson sat at the table playing with his Legos after doing his after-school reading time. As part of Hudson’s nightly homework, I instituted a required twenty minutes of reading before television or games.
Hudson’s mom had always been an avid reader, and although Hudson didn’t remember this about his mom, it was always important to her that we do our best to instill a love of reading in our son. When I told Emily the story one night after reading Hudson a bedtime story, she’d practically broken down at the sweetness of the tradition I kept alive in honor of Kayla’s memory.
“Emmy’s finishing her homework,” Hudson whispered as I met his hand in greeting.
“Okay,” I whispered back. Emily’s “homework” consisted of emails, budgets, and managerial tasks for Mannered Mutts.
I didn’t realize how much Emily’s help and support would mean to me, but it meant more than she could possibly know especially since Hudson was at the age where he knew how to finagle and draw things out. With her tenacity, she’d helped Hudson see that there was always a sense of reward and accomplishment for being responsible and checking things off your “to-do list.” She set an excellent example for my son.
“Do you have a lot to do?” I asked.
“Nope. Almost done,” Emily said, lifting her eyes to mine.
“Take your time. The quicker you finish your homework, the quicker we can have fun.”
“Promise?” she asked right before I met her lips with a kiss.
I waggled my brows at her.
“I’ll hurry,” she said.
“Hudson, why don’t you take the dogs into the backyard while I change.”
“I think Luke is sad,” Hudson said.
“Because he misses Gigi?”
“And the puppies.”
“There aren’t any puppies yet,” I reminded him.
“But he misses them all the same,” he said.
“It’s normal for dogs to miss each other—just like humans,” Emily said.
“But doesn’t he look sad?” Hudson asked.
Emily and I looked at Luke, hunkered down with Rufus and Moose.
He looked the same to me as he always did. But I wasn’t going to nullify my son’s feelings.
“You know what always makes Luke happy?” Emily asked.
Hudson’s mouth turned up. “Tug-of-war?”
Emily’s eyes brightened. “Tug-of-war. Why don’t you take them out back while your dad changes.”
Hudson beelined to the slider and called the dogs outside.
Before Luke followed his best friend into the backyard, he glanced toward the empty corner of the room where Gigi usually would be.
“I don’t know about you, but it is nice to be back down to three dogs. Although Gigi wasn’t a lot of extra work, it’s just nice to be back to us ,” I said.
“Luke does kind of look sad,” Emily said.
“That’s just his face, honey. And don’t get any wild and crazy ideas about bringing another dog home.”
“I’m not,” she said, a guilty shade of red kissing her cheeks.
“Just think how much work it would be with all those puppies. Man, when I think about how hard it was with Hudson. Having another dog is like having another kid. It’s a lot of work.”
Emily’s mouth hung open momentarily before she clamped it shut.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head. “Just thinking about Gigi, I guess.”
“Is something wrong with her?” It seemed silly to worry about a dog that wasn’t mine, but technically, Gigi was in this predicament because of my dog.
“No. She’s fine. I talked to Celine earlier.” Emily’s eyes darted to the corner of the room where Gigi had been “nesting” the past couple of weeks. “Everything’s fine.”
I hugged her tight to my body. “I know it’s been stressful around here. With the holidays and my family. And then taking care of Hudson when he was sick?—”
“It’s fine,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry everything’s been so crazy around here.”
“It’s been crazy for you too. This week hasn’t been easy for you.” She met my eyes with a small smile.
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” I said, pulling her back in. Having her in my arms was the comfort I needed to start our weekend off on the right foot. “I’m just glad the week is finally over. I don’t think I could take much more drama.”
“Right,” she whispered.
As her breath feathered against my neck, my dick hardened.
Emily sighed and put her hands on my chest. “We can’t right now. Hudson?—”
“I know.”
I recognized an uneasiness in her eyes as she pulled away. “I’ll go start the barbecue,” she said, trying to smile before pressing her lips to mine before she left me alone to change out of my suit.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” I said later that night as I spooned Emily. I didn’t know what was going on with her, but maybe if I told her this part of my past, she’d feel closer to me, and we’d get back on track. “It took me a long time to get to the point where I felt open enough to let someone in. I went on my first date about two years later. And hated every second of it. The night I met you, something changed. One look at you, and I don’t know—I wanted to meet you. When you came over to me—I knew I wanted . . . something.”
“Something?” she said, turning around to face me.
“I didn’t know what happened was going to happen. But something about you unlocked everything I’d been holding onto. Weird as it is to say . . . or think . . . I believe meeting you that night was fate.”
“I didn’t know you believed in fate.”
“I didn’t. Don’t. Not really, anyway.” I toyed with her hands before threading our fingers together. “After that night with you, I thought, ‘Maybe I’m ready to move on.’ So, I tried going out with a couple of other women. I went on three dates. None of them measured up to you.”
“Really?” she squeaked.
“Really. Then I found you again when I came back. Maybe it is fate after all.”
“Maybe,” she whispered.
“I don’t know why I never told you this before.” I kissed her hand. “I guess after all this time together, I wanted to tell you so you know how long I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I’m just glad you found me again,” she said right before I pressed my mouth to hers with a kiss that held promises of forever.