Chapter 28 #2
“Can’t wait.” She murmurs something, and there’s a pause that puts all my senses on high alert. These moments can be fleeting, even on her best days. “Bring your girl, too.”
I freeze, thinking I’ve lost her to the dementia.
“What girl?”
“The one that’s kept you away when normally you’d be back hiding away in that damn van. Perfectly good house . . . I told you selling it wasn’t necessary.”
She can’t know.
“What makes you think there’s a girl?”
“What else would keep you away? Hell or high water, you’d come back. You always do, so this must be different. Bring her with. I want to meet her.”
I hear Connie in the background, and my grandmother shuffles around.
“Connie says it’s time for my dinner.”
“You know how she gets when you keep her waiting.”
Her airy laugh is music to my ears. “Don’t I ever.”
“I’ll be by soon,” I remind her, hoping if anything sticks, it’s that.
“Love you, Emmett.”
Then Connie takes the phone back.
“Her grin is wider than the prairies,” Connie says quietly. “Now, tell me how you are before I have to take her down for lunch. How bad are things if they’re keeping you from work?”
“They’re better than a few weeks ago.”
“Mm.” I can practically hear her narrowing her eyes through the phone. “And how much of that improvement has to do with this mystery girl your grandma seems convinced exists?”
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “Jesus. You too?”
Connie laughs softly. “That obvious, huh?”
“There’s nothing going on.”
“Sure there isn’t.”
“Connie.”
“Emmett.” She throws my own tone right back at me. “You sound lighter than you have in years. Forgive us for noticing.”
“I hear you were quite the hero.”
I groan, hanging my head over the engine in front of me. “I hate that word.”
“So, you just have a death wish then?”
“No, of course not.”
“Could have fooled me—letting a tree fall on you. ”
“It was a branch,” I say.
The crunch of tires snaps my attention to the driveway, where Aspen’s SUV is turning in.
“I’ll figure out how to get back there soon. Let me know if she needs anything.”
“Just to see your face.”
“Message received,” I say, but I’m already pulling the phone from my ear. “Talk soon, Connie.”
I hear her say her goodbyes and end the call, striding out of the garage to meet Aspen as she’s parking her car.
God, what a sight. Even in her scrubs, still wearing the exhaustion and heaviness of the day, she’s beautiful. My fingers wrap around the cool metal before I even think about it. One second later, I’ve got her door open and my hand outstretched.
“Were you waiting for me?”
I squint. “Does waiting imply that you were the sole purpose for me being out here . . .” I start, then drop the pretense because it’s pointless.
No one else has slipped behind my walls with ease, but it’s been that way since she was just the pretty nurse in the helicopter. “Yeah, I was out here for you.”
The soft curl of her lips dazzles with the pink blooming like watercolor across her cheeks.
One look at her and something in me gives way.
Her cool palm slides into mine, letting me pull her from the car.
Her touch is as calm as ever, almost enough to make the conversation I just had temporarily slip from my memory.
“It’s not every day that I come home to a greeting like this.”
Pulling her toward me, I press the door shut behind her, one hand finding her waist as I take two steps forward, caging her against the car.
“Emmett.” She breathes, her gaze swinging to mine and her hand covering my heart, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. “I’m hospital gross,” she warns.
“Don’t care.” I duck my head. “Germs don’t scare me. It’s been too long since I kissed you.”
Her chest lifts into mine with a sharp inhale. “It’s been two days.”
“Weird. Feels like forever.” I duck my head until my lips hover just shy of hers. “Can I kiss you now, Angel? Or are you going to make me wait?”
She hums, considering it for a beat before pressing up on her toes and putting me out of my misery.
Plush lips meet me where I wait, and she melts in my arms, like the brush of my lips against hers is capable of erasing her day and easing every worry.
Like I hold that power. And that makes me feel .
. . worthy. Needed. Whatever it is, I’ve never felt this way before.
Our kiss starts slow, not unlike the last one, but when she opens for me, a blissful noise starts at the back of her throat, and I can’t hold back.
I nip at her bottom lip, drawing a surprised gasp from her. “Fuck, how is this real? How are you real?”
“Me?” She breathes into my mouth, barely breaking our kiss.
“Yes, you,” I return. “Just the two of us here, and I’m not talking about myself.”
“You’d never.” She’s all teasing and there’s a glimmer in her eyes, but her hand moves lower, until her fingers hook into the waistband of my pants, tugging me closer. “I happen to think you’re pretty un-fucking-believable.”
All I can do is grunt. I refuse to take us out of this moment by reminding her that she sees the best in everyone, but I’m the exception, not the rule. I’d rather keep kissing her than argue over something neither of us can change, though.
I tilt her head back, taking more of her mouth until I’m hard and pressing into her hip.
“God, I’m desperate for you.” And not just physically. Everything about her gets under my skin. I should run, leave Timberline Peak and her behind before I ruin us both. But I can’t.
Can’t look away. Can’t pull my lips from hers.
Because as certain as I am that I’ll ruin her, her soft little whimpers as I kiss down her neck have me willing to risk it all—willing to let her ruin me.