62. Jake
JAKE
Mason picks up his toolbox. "I'm going to shower. Call me if you need me.”
Luke snorts. “Now that Emma’s home, the only thing Jake’s going to need is a bottle of lube and an energy drink.”
I take the towel by the sink and throw it at him.
He catches it in one hand as Mason opens the door for Emma.
“Emma.” Mason lets her pass before stepping outside, Shadow right by him.
“Hey, Em,” Luke says, sauntering to her and kissing her cheek.
I grit my teeth. I know he’s doing it to push my buttons. It’s working.
Emma shakes her head at my brother. “You have a death wish or something?”
“It’s not me who’s in the final countdown.” He pats her on the head and saunters out of the kitchen to his suite in the back.
Emma’s eyes swing to mine. I see caution there. “You know, don’t you?”
“You want to tell me what happened?” I congratulate myself on my calm tone.
She exhales deeply. "Cole Turner showed up at the diner while I was having lunch with Harper."
I nod, clenching my jaw. "What did he say?"
"The usual." She waves her hand like it was no big deal. "He was more imaginative than Eli, though. He offered to hook me up with a top-notch gallery to sell my photography."
I study her closely, ready to storm out and find the fucker. "Did he touch you?"
"No.” She put her hand on my chest, over my heart. “Harper was there and told him to leave. He did, but he made it clear it wasn't over."
I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my eyes. "He's not coming near you again."
"Jake—"
"I mean it, Emma. He made a threat. He crossed a line. He's done."
She searches my face, and I see the moment she understands. "You're going to kill him."
It's not a question.
She sees the answer on my face, but she doesn't flinch. Doesn't pull away. She just sighs. "Okay."
"Okay?" I frown. I expected her to protest.
"I trust you." Her hands come up to cover mine. "I trust you to keep me safe."
Something in my chest cracks open. She trusts me.
“Do you trust me?” she asks, her eyes steady on mine.
“Of course I do,” I say without hesitation.
“Good.” She reaches up on her toes, pulling my head down for a kiss.
It's not rough. Not claiming. It's something else—something deeper. A promise. A vow.
When I pull back, her eyes are dark with need.
"Take me to bed," she whispers.