31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Molly
Way too early the next morning, the doorbell rang, and I groaned, but Preston hopped out of bed, yanking the covers off Emmett and me.
“Get up. I ordered something, and it’s here.”
“Can you just carry it up?” Emmett asked, covering his face with a pillow.
“No. It’s too big for that. Come on,” he urged,
I rolled over, pulling the pillow off Emmett’s face. “Let’s go. I know from experience he won’t give up when he’s like this.”
Emmett smirked and kissed my nose. “True.”
We put our hands out and Preston hauled us to our feet as the doorbell rang again.
“Do you have any idea what it is?” Emmett asked as he handed me a robe.
I slipped my arms in and shook my head, giving Preston puppy dog eyes. “What is it?”
“You two are so impatient,” Preston chided, jogging down the hallway and skipping down the stairs as we groggily followed him.
“I thought we were sleeping in today,” Emmett grumbled.
Preston flung the door open with much more enthusiasm than the delivery driver on the other side contained.
“Sign here, please.” He held out a keypad with a screen on it and Preston scribbled his signature.
“Thanks, man.” He grinned and the delivery driver saluted him as he sprinted back to his truck.
The box sitting next to the doormat was huge, and I had zero idea what it could be.
“Can I open it?” I asked, walking around it in search of a clue.
“That’s the spirit,” Preston exclaimed, kissing me until I was breathless.
“Here, help me,” I said, pulling Emmett over to us.
We ripped open the box, and I grinned at Preston. “You got me my own old lady porch chair?”
“Now you have to sit out here all summer with us. We can drink lemonade and gossip about the neighbors.”
Summer was so far away. I paused, taking a second to imagine the three of us lined up on the porch, rocking until we wore grooves in the planks that had already seen generations of people watching and lemonade drinking.
“I can’t think of a better way to spend my summer nights,” I whispered, the image bringing tears to my eyes.
Warmth spread through my arms as I ran my hand over the solid chair. This was what love was. Someone actively choosing to have me in their life. It didn’t have to be flashy or loud. It also didn’t have to be hard.
It was a choice. And we’d all choose each other every single day for the rest of our lives.