Chapter 54
CHAPTER
FIFTY-FOUR
ASPEN
I’m in the garage loading boxes in the back of my SUV. It’s been three long days since I spoke with Caleb and five since I left Emmett back in Coyote Creek.
Boundaries are new to me but I’m beginning to think maybe it’s not always setting them that’s hard but keeping them that’s the real challenge.
I have considered checking in on Emmett more than once.
But cleaning out my garage is giving me an outlet for energy that feels like it’s got nowhere else to go.
Trunk packed full, I’m about to close the hatch and take the load to my brother’s when I hear the hum of an engine behind me.
Not for the first time since I pulled out of that parking lot, I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to calm the explosion of flutters in my stomach.
Please let it be him.
When I open them, the optimism turns to cold hard stone and plummets.
It’s not the old camper van I’ve found myself looking for all over town. Instead, Jeremiah’s ostentatious white Range Rover is parked in my driveway and he stomps toward me.
His loafers slap off the gravel, and his fisted hands are shoved in the pockets of his khakis like the idea of touching anything in my garage would be beneath him.
He’s so pompous I can almost feel my ovaries hiding.
I step back as the hatch closes on my SUV. It also gives me a few more feet of distance from him. A real win-win.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say.
“What the hell is all this?” His lip curls. “Are you moving?”
I keep working, more or less ignoring him and focusing on rearranging the things Drake still needs to come grab with his truck. Every few seconds my eyes flit to Jeremiah, too aware of how alone we are.
“I’m not having this conversation with you.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice steady as nerves and rage swirl together.
He takes a step closer, red crawling up his neck. “You reported me.”
“Yes. I did.”
Another step. “Why are you trying to ruin my career? This is my fucking reputation?”
“I’m done letting you intimidate me.” I straighten, keeping my voice steady. “Please leave.”
His nostrils flare. “You think you can just blow up my life and come out smelling like roses?”
My fist balls at my side. “Any consequences are of your own making.”
“You worthless bitch.”
That’s it.
Weeks of swallowed comments.
Years of making myself smaller.
Every time I smiled because anger made someone else uncomfortable.
I’m done.
“I asked you to leave,” I grit out.
Before I realize what I’m doing, my knuckles crack against his nose. I’m not sure if the sickening crunch is my hand or his cartilage but it fucking hurts.
I shake my hand out as Jeremiah stumbles backwards, cursing up a storm—both of us taken by surprise at my reaction.
At first, I think the low rumble in my ears is adrenaline, but as Jeremiah grabs his nose, I realize we’re not alone.
My heart lurches in my chest as Emmett flies out of his van.
He’s back.
I barely even notice Jeremiah swiping the blood away, spitting just to the side of my feet, because I can’t take my eyes off Emmett as he stalks up the driveway—calm, with a stare so lethal it sends a chill up my spine. I have no doubt if I hadn’t just decked Jeremiah he would’ve.
“Time to go Jeremiah.” My voice barely shakes and I want a trophy for keeping it together as well as I am. “I don’t have anything more to say to you.”
Jeremiah looks over his shoulder and then back at me rolling his eyes. “Seriously? This guy.”
“You heard her. You’re not welcome here.” Emmett walks past him and comes to stand at my side.
Not in front of me.
Beside me.
“She assaulted me.” The accusation squeaks out of him.
I laugh at the fucking audacity. “And what are you going to tell the police when they ask why you were here?”
His jaw clenches, sweat already beading along his hairline.
Emmett towers over him, calm and deliberate. He doesn’t touch him, just waits until Jeremiah’s eyes flick up.
When he does, Emmett grins.
It isn’t friendly, it’s a threat.
He reaches out, gripping Jeremiah’s shoulder, and hauls him out of the garage with ease.
Emmett’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “You’re done here.”
Jeremiah scoffs, but it lacks conviction.
Emmett doesn’t raise his voice, though, and somehow, that’s more intimidating.
“Leave. Don’t come back,” Emmett adds. “You don’t call—don’t find reasons to be near her. Keep Aspen’s name out of your mouth. Whatever happens next is between you and the hospital, but Aspen is done being part of it.”
Jeremiah swallows. His bravado fractures, fear flickering behind his eyes.
He jerks his arm free and backs away, hobbling toward his Range Rover. He glares through the window and then backs down the driveway.
The silence he leaves behind feels enormous and for a moment, neither Emmett or I move.
Then Emmett exhales.
“Hey.”
One word shouldn't be enough to crack me open.
But this is Emmett, and I’ve spent five days wondering if I’d ever hear his voice like this again.
“Give me your hand.”
I try to flex the hand cradled to my chest only for it to scream in protest. “What are you doing here?”
“Your hand, Aspen.”
Oh, that. It’s still tucked protectively against my chest. I nod and he reaches out, his large hand eclipsing mine.
“Emmett, seriously, it’s fine.”
His eyebrow lifts. “Did you just punch someone and think I wasn’t going to check your hand?”
“He deserved it.”
“One hundred percent. But you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
He goes still.
My mouth snaps shut.
Oh.
“That’s annoying when someone else says it.”
“Extremely,” he agrees. He turns my hand over in his, oh so gently. “It’s a little red but doesn’t seem to be swelling or bruising.”
“It stings, but I don’t think I broke anything,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry, Aspen.”
It’s soft. Careful.
I glance down at my hand. “This isn’t your fault.”
“No, but everything else is.”
“That’s a lot of blame to take on yourself.”
“You told me you loved me, and I let my fear be louder than the one thing I knew was true.”
My breath catches.
His thumb brushes over my sore knuckles. “I love you, Aspen.”
There’s so much truth and vulnerability as he gazes down at me, and I know he’s telling the truth, but I want to hear it again.
“Tell me again.”
He smirks. “I love you, Aspen. More than I ever thought possible. Love isn’t something I ever thought I’d get to have, but with you, I can’t control it. It’s there every day, and I’m done holding myself back from it.”
“You don’t know how glad I am to hear that . . .” I bite my lip, unsure for a second if I want to rock the boat, when I decide that’s exactly the kind of shit I’m done doing. “What changed?”
“Nothing,” he says, but he’s quick to duck his head, capturing my attention before I can look away. “And everything.”
“Oh,” I say.
“My grandmother is still sick. I can’t change my past—I can’t change any of those things. But I choose to stop waiting for bad things to happen.”
“Are you okay?”
“No. But I will be.”
And that’s all I need to hear. Everything else we can figure out with time.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call or text. I wanted to make sure I could tell you that before I promised anything more.”
It’s not like Emmett to talk in circles, but I can tell he’s working out how to say what he needs to.
“I’m seeing a therapist. We’ve had two sessions, and it’s exhausting, but I think it’s good.”
“Because of work?”
“No. Because it was time.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I don’t want to keep living this way. You helped me see what it could be like.”
“Wait.” My eyes narrow. “You fixed the tire.”
“That was all Carl.”
I almost scold him for not calling me when I realize that was the point.
He glances around my much cleaner garage.
“What’s with the boxes?”
“Oh . . .” Right. I was in the middle of something here. With Emmett in front of me, my hand in his, it’s easy to forget everything else. “Packing them to take to Drake’s. Someone told me I needed more room here and since you fixed the jeep . . .” I lift my shoulder. “It was time.”
He nods, looking around the garage. There’s a lull that leaves me with more questions. Because I’m standing here, looking at the man I love and he loves me, and there’s still a lot to figure out.
“Now, I figure it out.”
My stomach dips.
Because that sounds a lot like uncertainty. And uncertainty is exactly what scared him away.
He must see the way my smile drops.
He pulls me closer so I’m nearly flush with him. “Not like that.”
Of course he knows exactly where my mind went.
“I’m not leaving this up to chance.”
He cups the side of my neck.
“Atlas said I can park the camper at his place for a while.”
“You’re moving here?”
“I’m planning to, if that’s okay with you.”
“Emmett—”
“I’m not running away from Coyote Creek.”
There it is.
The thing I needed to hear before I even knew I needed it.
“I’ll go back and forth. Monica is still there; I’m still going to show up for her.” His mouth tips up slightly. “But it turns out I can love more than one person at a time without failing either of them.”
“What about work?”
“I have an interview with the Teton County Hotshots.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m ready to stop living like I need an exit strategy.”
I drop my gaze.
“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Don’t hide from me now.”
“Where are you staying?”
He looks toward the stairs above the garage. “Technically?”
My brows lift.
“Technically, I still have a lease.”
“You drove five hours and went to therapy twice but you’re worried about breaking a lease agreement?”
“You asked me to stop deciding things for you.”
“Stay.”
He leans back, his brows creasing. “In the loft?”
“No, Emmett.” I pull him back, looping my hands around his neck. “With me.”