Chapter Twenty-One Emily
Chapter Twenty-One
Emily
Since the restaurant was only half a mile from Gavin’s building, I convinced him to send Denis home for the night and for us to walk back to his place. I wanted some air after such a heavy meal. I wanted to feel the coolness of the night and the protection of his hand.
A hand that, no matter where we were, was always on me. This time, his entire arm was draped over my shoulders, his fingers dangling near the top of my breast. I linked my fingers with his and gazed up at him.
There was a warmth inside my chest. A warmth that hadn’t come from the bottle of wine we’d just shared or the three courses we’d devoured.
It came from him.
A feeling that had been growing since the very beginning.
One that consumed me whenever I was with him, even when I wasn’t.
“What are you thinking about?”
Although I’d been staring, when his eyes locked with mine and the question came out of his mouth, it took me by surprise. “You. This.” I took a breath. “Us.”
“What about?”
I smiled. “I think I like this little life.” A trend I’d seen on social media, something I was sure Gavin hadn’t seen, since his accounts were managed by his assistant and the man despised most of the sites. Still, I didn’t think that took away from what I’d just admitted.
His lips went to the top of my head, pressing against my hair for several seconds before he kissed me. “Me too.”
“I mean, I would like it even more if you’d actually let me pay for something.
” Teasing him about this topic was becoming one of my favorite things since he was so relentless about it.
And knowing how he’d react made me laugh, the movement causing his lips to bump me.
“I think we’re on our tenth dinner—or something like that, maybe even more—and whenever the bill comes, you get all snappy when I offer my credit card. ”
He pulled his mouth away. “‘Snappy’?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Here’s more snappiness: I’m never going to let you pay.
” He kissed me, harder than he’d pecked my head.
“Just like I’m never going to let you book a flight—you’re going to fly private with me or first class commercially.
I’m never going to let you stay in a hotel that isn’t a Cole and Spade Hotel.
” A brand of hotels I’d never booked and couldn’t afford, and whenever I flew, my seat was always near the back by the restroom.
“I’m never going to let you pay for clothes or makeup or any other shit you put on your body.
You’re just going to have to take it.” He smiled. “Sorry, Emily.”
“You spoil me.” I soaked in the way he looked at me, the flutters exploding in my stomach. “Why?”
“Because I can.” His teeth flicked across his lower lip. “Because I want to.”
“I’ve never experienced anyone like you.”
Men had bought me dinner, but this was an entirely different level. Of course, none of them were retired NFL players whose net worth was in the billions.
“This isn’t the norm for me either. Remember, I don’t do this with anyone.” He paused. “I guess I should say I haven’t since Ben’s mom . . . But Emily, you’re different.”
I didn’t want him to have to talk about her, and I didn’t want this moment to grow heavy when everything felt so light and perfect.
I pulled his fingers toward my mouth and kissed the back of his hand. “For the record, if you start buying me tampons, I’m revolting. A line needs to be drawn in the I-buy-Emily-everything-for-her-body sand, and I think that’s a good place.”
He chuckled. “I can handle that.”
We entered through the front of his building and stepped inside his private elevator. As soon as the door started to close, his hands went to my face and he kissed me. My back found the wall, my body arched into his, and I let go.
Because I knew as soon as I gave him my weight, he would take it.
And he did.
He held me like I was nothing more than a handful of pounds, like nothing in this world would ever cause him to release me.
“The hot tub,” he said against my lips as he pulled back. “That’s where I want you. Naked.”
“Now?”
“Now.” He rubbed his thumb over my mouth. “And then a shower, where I want you again.” He tilted my face up even higher. “And then my bed . . .”
“Where I know you’re going to want me again.” I licked his fingertip.
“Mmm. Yes.”
The door opened and he took my hand, bringing me through his foyer and into the living room. I was so focused on him, anticipating when he was going to turn around and strip off my clothes and carry me to the roof, that I almost ran into him when he stopped short.
“Mom,” Gavin said in a soft voice, “what’s going on?”
Mom?
“Hi, Daddy.”
Daddy? Oh shit . . .
Gavin’s tall frame and broadness was blocking my whole view, so I moved around him. As my eyes fell over the scene before me, my brain registering exactly what I was looking at—Ben and his grandmother cuddled on the couch under a blanket, staring at me—my heart began to pound.
“Hi, Emily,” Ben said since he was just now seeing me. “Are you here to fix my tummy?”
As I looked at Gavin’s mom, her expression was filled with shock.
Oh God, this isn’t happening . . .
I pulled my fingers away from Gavin’s, and as I was about to say something to him, his mom replied, “I called you, Gavin. You didn’t answer. I texted you too. I’m sorry . . . I didn’t know you wouldn’t be alone.” The shock continued to grow across her face.
“Gavin, I think I should go,” I whispered.
Gavin took out his phone. “Jesus, Mom, I don’t know how I missed your call or your text. My phone is on vibrate. I should have felt it.” He returned his cell to his pocket. “What’s wrong with my boy? Is he sick?”
“My tummy hurts, Daddy,” Ben whined. “I feel pukey.”
“And somehow, when you packed up his things for the night, you forgot his stuffed hockey stick. You know Ben can’t sleep without it.”
“Shit,” Gavin replied.
As Gavin went to take a step toward Ben, I touched his back to stop him, and he turned and looked at me. “I’m going to go.” I pointed toward the elevator.
I didn’t know if he’d forgotten that I was here or was too focused on Ben to concentrate on anything else, but his expression didn’t register shock.
It showed emotion instead.
“Emily . . .” He shook his head, his throat moving as he swallowed.
As the seconds passed, the silence thickened, his eyes became more intense.
A type of stare I’d never gotten from him before.
And within the quietness that was churning between us, I felt everything.
The war. The feelings. The decisions. “I want you to stay.”
He . . . what?
I wasn’t expecting that answer.
Nor was I expecting to enter that stage of our relationship right now.
I was more than ready.
But was he?
“Are you sure?” I kept my voice extremely low.
“Positive.” He held out his hand, and I had to force my eyes not to fill with tears as his fingers clasped mine. He brought me to the couch, halting next to the coffee table. “Ben, tell Daddy what’s wrong.”
The tenderness that came through his tone, the words he chose, even his posture as he looked at his son was making me melt.
“I feel ick.”
“Is it something he ate?” Gavin asked his mom.
“We were getting ready for bed”—she rubbed her hand over Ben’s hair—“and that’s when we realized Uncle J’s hockey stick wasn’t in the bag. And that’s when the tummy and the icks started up with a vengeance.”
“Ah. It’s all making sense now.” Gavin nodded. “I’m sorry I forgot your stuffed hockey stick, buddy. It’s my fault, and I should be more careful when I pack your overnight bags. I’m glad Grandma was able to bring you home and make you feel better.”
“My tummy.” Ben tapped it over the blanket. “Still ick.”
I squeezed Gavin’s hand. “I’m happy to check him out. But only if you want me to.”
“I want you to,” he responded.
I released his hand and crouched down in front of Ben and his grandmother. “Hey, buddy.” I rubbed his arm to get him used to my touch.
“Hi, Emily.” Ben’s voice was small. “No button up my nose this time.”
“Glad you’re giving your little nose a rest.” I gently tapped his nose and smiled at him. “Hopefully, I can make you feel better.”
As Ben’s grandmother was getting up from the couch to give me more room, Gavin said, “Mom, this is Emily.” I glanced over my shoulder at him as he added, “She’s someone very important in my life.
” For the second time tonight, I was doing everything I could to hold back tears.
“You’ve probably seen lots of her, since she was Grandma’s nurse in the rehab center. Emily, this is my mom, Melinda.”
Melinda’s expression was so welcoming. “It’s lovely to see you here. My mother speaks so highly of you.”
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Mrs. Worthington.”
“Melinda, please.” Her grin was even larger. “Ben isn’t running a fever. I checked about thirty minutes ago when we got here. That’s when I gave him a children’s antacid—that’s the only medicine I’ve given him.”
“I would have given him the same, that’s perfect.” As she moved away from the couch, my hand went to Ben’s forehead. He still didn’t have a fever, and his eyes weren’t glossy. “Tell me everything that hurts, kiddo. Are you feeling icky everywhere or just your tummy?”
His lip jutted out. “Just my tum.”
“Is it okay if I look at your tum?”
He nodded, hugging the stuffed hockey stick against his neck. “Where’s Fenway?”
“Aww, Fenway’s at home. If he knew I was seeing you, he’d be wicked jealous. He misses you.”
I rubbed his knee before I pulled the blanket back. Ben was in a pair of dinosaur pajamas, and I touched his chest to make sure he wasn’t sweating. The fabric was dry, so I gently placed my hand on his lower abdomen and pushed. “Does this hurt?”
“No.”
I lifted my palm a little higher. “How about here?”
He shook his head, his dark-brown hair falling into his beautiful eyes.
I shifted my hand toward the right side of his stomach and then the left side. “Any pain in either spot?”
“Nope.”
I examined his neck and the glands in his throat, and I helped him sit up a little so I could run my hand down his back. “Are the pains sharp? Do they come and go?”
He nodded. “Ugh.”
When I turned toward Gavin, he was whispering to his mom, and she was wearing the biggest smile as he spoke.
I was so curious what they were talking about, but when they looked at me, I got the feeling I was the topic of that conversation.
And based on her grin, she was beyond pleased with what she was hearing.
I couldn’t wait to ask him what their talk was about.
“None of the spots on his stomach seem to be tender,” I explained. “Nothing in his neck is enlarged. He doesn’t have any pain in his back. My guess is that this could be a case of a missing hockey stick and . . . having to go to the bathroom.”
Gavin came over and knelt beside me, his hand holding the back of Ben’s head. “Buddy, are you feeling ick because you have to go potty?”
Ben shrugged.
“I’ll take him.” Melinda returned to the couch, holding out her hand to Ben. Before they walked off, she set her fingers on my shoulder. “Thank you, Emily. I hope to see more of you soon.”
“Of course—and same.”
I got up from the floor, Gavin did, too, and once Ben and Melinda were out of sight, he immediately pulled me into his arms.
I rested my face on his chest, slowly filling my lungs, the events of tonight finally hitting me. Even though he’d said he wanted me to stay, that didn’t mean he wasn’t having second thoughts. I was sure his mind was a storm of emotions the same way mine was.
I clenched my eyelids closed and whispered, “I don’t know if you were ready for that. I wish it had happened on your terms and not like this—”
“The timing was perfect.” He lifted my chin until I looked at him, my eyes opening. “I was going to suggest it anyway. Ben’s stomach just beat me to it.”
He was?
Oh God.
“Are you sure?” I continued to search his eyes. “The last thing I want is for you to feel rushed and have regret and—”
“Yes, I’m sure.” He cupped my face. “I don’t feel rushed.
I don’t have regrets. I want you to be in my son’s life, Emily.
” He grazed my cheeks with his thumbs. “You were incredible with him.” As the gravity of that statement hit me, so did his lips, taking mine as though he needed to reinforce what he’d just said. “This feels so right.”