Chapter 9
nine
. . .
Charlie
Soft morning light filtered through unfamiliar curtains, turning everything hazy and golden.
I blinked awake slowly, my brain cataloging details that didn’t add up: the window on the wrong side of the room, a different-smelling detergent on the sheets, and no clanking radiator I really needed to call about getting serviced soon.
Then a warm body shifted beside me, long hair spilling across my chest, and the entire night came rushing back in vivid detail. Jemma’s hand brushed against me as she moved, and I swear, my heart tried to break out of my ribs.
I rolled onto my side, propped up on an elbow, and just … looked at her.
At the woman I’d loved in secret for half my life, all soft curves and mussed hair, and sleep-heavy breaths.
So this is what waking up next to her feels like, I thought as she stirred to life with a deep sigh.
She reached her arms up over her head with a groaning stretch. “What time is it?”
I glanced toward the window. “Light’s coming in, so I’m guessing after seven.”
“Mmm.” She burrowed deeper under the covers, her foot sliding against my calf. Her toes were freezing. “Feels earlier than that.”
I chuckled. “Probably because we didn’t fall asleep until after two.”
“And whose fault was—”
Jemma froze mid-sentence as a voice sounded from down the hall.
“Mom?”
“Oh no. Did we lock the door?” she whispered, panic lacing her words.
We whipped our heads toward the bedroom door at the same time. It was shut, but I didn’t remember locking it when I’d followed her inside.
“Shit.” I sat up fast, the blanket pooling around my thighs.
Jemma’s eyes flicked down to land on my cock standing at full attention, and with the speed of an Olympic athlete, she lunged sideways to yank the comforter over my lap.
The sound of footsteps in the hall grew closer.
“Under the bed?” I whispered.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re over six feet tall!”
“Closet then?”
“There’s no time”
“I really hope you’re decent,” Eli’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Because I’m opening this door in three seconds.”
“Eli, wait!” Jemma hollered, scrambling upright and clutching the blanket to her chest like a shield.
“Three.”
“Oh my god, oh my god …” She scanned the room frantically, like an exit might suddenly materialize.
“Two.”
“Charlie!” she whisper-hissed. “What do we do?”
“Brace for impact,” I said, grabbing the edge of the comforter and tugging it up to rest just under my chin.
“One.”
The door swung open.
“Found him,” Eli announced cheerfully into his phone, which was raised like he was filming. “You were right, Mags.”
My stomach dropped.
Eli turned the screen toward me, and sure enough, there was my daughter’s grinning face.
“Hi, Dad,” she said sweetly. “Have a nice night?”
“Umm,” I managed. “I can explain.”
Eli was already backing out of the room, laughter spilling out of him. “Nope. No explanation necessary, Mr. Emerson. You two have fun.”
The door shut with an almost polite click.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Jemma groaned and fell backward onto the pillow, covering her face with both hands. “Oh my god. That did not just happen.”
I flopped down beside her, the adrenaline draining out of me all at once. “It absolutely happened.”
“Your daughter saw us in bed together.”
“Your son, too,” I amended, fighting a smile at the absolute ridiculousness of the situation. “I guess that’s one way to tell the kids we’re together.”
She turned her head on the pillow, spreading her fingers wide to peek out at me from between them. Her expression was pure mortification.
I couldn’t help it, I started laughing.
“Charlie, this is horrifying.”
“Sure,” I said, chuckling. “But I’ve had worse wake-ups.”
“Such as?”
“The time Lilah threw up all over me in the middle of the night after scarfing down too much Halloween candy,” I told her. “Whereas right now I’m naked in bed with a beautiful woman. I’m calling this a win.”
She groaned again, but the corners of her mouth twitched, giving her away. “You are entirely too pleased with yourself right now.”
“Hard not to be. I finally got the girl.”
Jemma rolled onto her side to face me, eyes narrowing even as a smile curved her lips. “You mean the woman, old man.”
“Right. The woman.” I reached out and brushed my fingers along her jaw. “The one I’ve been in love with longer than I care to say.”
Her expression shifted, laughter giving way to deeper emotion. “I think I’ve been half in love with you just as long,” she said quietly.
For a moment, the chaos of Eli finding us in bed together faded until it was just Jemma and me and the love that existed between us.
I leaned in and kissed her, morning breath be damned, because I’d never wanted to start a day with anyone more.
When I pulled back, she sighed. “So, what now? I mean, besides pretending our kids didn’t just discover us naked in bed together.”
“Now?” I reached for her hand and laced our fingers together.
“Now we drink coffee, eat breakfast, and face the fact that our kids probably already knew this was where we’d end up.
I don’t know about Eli, but Maggie and Lilah made it clear—in no uncertain terms—that I needed to get over myself and finally ask you out. ”
A laugh burst out of her. “They totally planned this.”
As she tucked herself against my side, I smiled into her hair and then pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I hate to say it, but I think we were just parent-trapped.”
The house smelled like rosemary and roasted garlic, butter, and yeast from the rolls Lilah had insisted on making from scratch.
Snow fell in thick, lazy flakes outside the kitchen window, muffling the world beyond and turning everything outside soft-edged and quiet.
Inside was anything but.
We’d squeezed around Jemma's dining table, Eli claiming the far end, Maggie and Lilah sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on one side, and Jemma close enough to me that our thighs pressed together under the table on the other. Silverware clinked against plates, laughter bubbled up every few seconds, and Eli kept sneaking bites of mashed potatoes directly from the serving bowl when he thought no one was looking and then insisted he hadn’t when Jemma called him on it.
It was the kind of family gathering portrayed in sitcoms or Hallmark movies. The kind I never thought I’d get to experience.
“All I’m saying is that if you didn’t want to get caught, maybe lock the door next time,” Eli snarked.
“Eli James Price.” Jemma pointed her fork at her son like a weapon, but there was no mistaking the laughter in her voice. “I swear to—”
I reached out and settled my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my side. Settled a kiss at her temple.
She glanced up at me, and some of the heat melted from her expression.
Lilah reached for a roll. “We’re just happy you two finally figured it out.”
Jemma took a long sip from her wine glass before asking, “How did you guys know?”
“How did you not?” Maggie snickered. “My dad wasn’t exactly subtle about his feelings.”
Eli nodded solemnly, cutting into his pot roast. “We’ve been placing bets for months.”
I arched an eyebrow, darting a look between him and my oldest. “Oh, have you now?”
“Eli had Christmas,” Maggie said, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she smiled at her best friend.
“I picked Valentine’s Day,” Lilah chirped before licking melted butter from her fingers.
“And you?” I asked Maggie.
“New Year’s Eve.”
“Why then?”
She shrugged. “Figured I could trick you into asking Mrs. … I mean, Jemma, to the gala.”
Jemma pressed her hand to her forehead. “You’ve all completely lost your minds.”
“Pretty sure they’re the only ones around here who had any sense,” I commented with a grin.
She squeezed my hand. “Don’t encourage them.”
“Too late,” Lilah said, setting her chin on her open palm. “You’re just mad because we’re smarter than you.”
“You’re something,” Jemma and I muttered in unison under our breaths.
Eli grinned. “Give it a few weeks, and they’ll be finishing each other’s sentences.”
Maggie’s face took on a devious expression that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, the same one she’d had right before she “accidentally” locked me and Jemma in the storage closet at the community center before the Fourth of July parade.
She glanced around the table, letting the suspense build, before her eyes finally landed on me.
“Five dollars says my dad proposes by Christmas.”
The table went dead silent. Even the clink of silverware stopped. Lilah froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. Eli’s eyebrows shot up. And Jemma—
Jemma’s head snapped toward Maggie, her eyes wide. “Maggie.”
My heart was suddenly hammering against my ribs. This wasn’t how I’d planned it—I’d been thinking maybe in the spring, somewhere quiet, just the two of us—but then I’d passed the jewelry store this morning and saw the antique ring in the window, and …
Screw it.
“Well,” I said, reaching into my pocket. My fingers closed around the small velvet box. “I don’t know about Christmas …”
Jemma’s gaze dropped to my pocket, her lips parting. “Charlie.”
I pulled the box out. “But the first Sunday in December sounds about right.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “You’re not serious.”
“Completely, one hundred percent serious.” I pushed back my chair, the legs scraping loudly against the hardwood floors, and dropped down onto one knee.
Our kids exploded—Eli whooped, Lilah shrieked, “Oh my god!” and Maggie waved her hands in front of her face.
Through it all, I only had eyes for Jemma.
I opened the box, and the ring caught the light—an Art Deco piece with a center diamond flanked by sapphires, and delicate filigree work on the band. Old-fashioned. Elegant. Just like my love.
“We’ve lost enough time already, Jem,” I said, my voice rough with emotion.
She laughed, tears pooling in her eyes. “You can’t just spring something like that on me at dinner!”
“Sure, I can.” I took her left hand in mine and held it gently.
“I don’t want to spend another day without you.
Another hour.” I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how quiet the room had grown, of how three pairs of eyes were watching us as I slid the ring onto her finger. “Jemma Marie Price. Will you marry me?”
She stared at me, tears streaming freely now, her hand trembling. “You really want this?”
I looked up at her—at this woman who I’d loved in one way or another since I was seventeen years old—and who loved me right back.
I nodded. “Yeah, Jem. I really do.”
For one long, suspended moment, she just looked at me. Then her face crumpled into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
“Yes,” she whispered. Then louder, laughing through her tears: “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
The room erupted again.
Chairs scraped back as everyone rushed toward us. Lilah was crying, Eli was shaking his head with a grin like he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it, and Maggie was demanding to see the ring up close.
When I finally stood and pulled her into my arms, she buried her face in my chest. I could feel her laughing and crying at the same time, could feel her heart racing against mine.
“I love you,” she whispered against my flannel shirt.
“I love you, too.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Have for practically my whole life. Gonna love you in the next one, too.”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her mascara smudged, eyes red, but her smile blinding. “Only one more?”
“Fine,” I said, grinning. “Fifty more lifetimes. Maybe a hundred if we’re lucky.”
“Better.”
Later, after the dishes were cleared and the kids had migrated to the living room to argue over what Christmas movie to watch, Jemma and I stood at the kitchen sink together. She washed, I dried, and neither of us said much.
But every few seconds, she’d hold up her left hand to catch the light, watching the ring sparkle, and I’d see her smiling.
“Happy?” I asked, bumping her hip with mine.
She turned to look at me, soap suds clinging to her fingers, and nodded. “Yeah, Charlie. I really am.”
From the living room, Eli groaned loudly. “They’re being schmoopy again.”
“Where do they come up with this stuff?” I asked under my breath.
Jemma laughed, and I pulled her close.
This.
The woman I loved standing next to me. Our kids in the other room. The love we all had for one another.
This was everything.