Chapter 35
Jonas
I should not be nervous.
There’s no reason to be nervous.
I eat nerves for breakfast.
Okay, fine. That’s a lie. I don’t. I usually have—actually, it doesn’t matter, and thinking about my normal nutritionist-prepared breakfast that I’ve been skipping since I arrived in Snaggletooth Creek won’t abate my nerves.
Not over this.
Not when it’s so important.
And what is it ?
A date.
An actual, honest date with Emma.
Before Bash woke up at our picnic, I had it planned in my head. Between the time we got signal back at the trailhead and the time we returned to Emma’s house, Begonia and one of Hayes’s security team had planned most of it for me.
Not that I couldn’t plan it myself.
It’s more that I was on a time crunch and knew Begonia could charm people faster and with fewer eyebrows raised.
“Why do I feel like I’m sixteen again?” Emma whispers to me in the back of the SUV as Robert, the other half of Hayes’s security detail who’s been with us all day, steers us around the lake beneath downtown.
I link my fingers through hers. “It’s going around.”
She smiles.
And blushes.
And looks out the window. “Why are we at the train station? It’s empty this time of— oooh .”
Exactly.
It’s empty this time of day.
Passengers for the scenic route have cleared out. The paddleboarders and kayakers on the lake have all packed up and gone home.
Zen and one of the triplets are at Emma’s house, taking care of Bash’s bedtime for us.
And I’m taking this woman that I’m absolutely obsessed with on a privately-catered date in the middle of the historic train station on the lake.
Robert parks the SUV in the empty parking lot on the far side of the lake, hops out, scans the area, then holds the door for Emma.
I slide across the back seat and climb out on that side too.
“What did you do?” Emma breathes. “And when?”
The sun is glowing above the mountains in the distance behind the town, making them hazy. The weather’s warm. Emma’s in one of her summer dresses with a shawl in case she gets cold. Her hair’s in a messy ponytail, and she swapped out her hiking boots for sandals.
And she’s fucking gorgeous.
Just like this.
I told her we were going somewhere casual. That she should be comfortable over dressing up for anyone.
She’s eyeing the ornate train station with its large doors and old windows and potted plants near the entrance like it’s a Michelin-starred restaurant and she’s in her underwear.
I squeeze her hand, then use the other to gesture to the grand entrance. “Shall we?”
“What did you do?” she repeats.
I grin.
She eyes me, and then she laughs too.
Even before we get inside to find—oh, fuck me .
Sabrina and Laney are here.
Here .
They’re both dressed in all-black, from their shoes to their aprons.
One’s holding a bottle of wine. The other’s holding a tray of appetizers.
Together, they flank the two-person table set up at the open windows overlooking the deck beyond the train tracks, the lake, and the town and mountains above.
“Welcome, madam,” Sabrina says to Emma. “You look beautiful, even holding hands with the riffraff.”
Laney shoots her a look, but her lips are wobbling. “Chef Bitsy will arrive shortly with your dinner. In the meantime, would you care for wine, a bread course, and deviled eggs?”
Emma’s lips are having a hard time deciding what to do, but she finally smiles. “I love deviled eggs.”
“The chef had a gut feeling,” Sabrina replies dryly.
I carefully glance around the empty train station.
Ticket window is closed. The benches lining the windows are empty. Trash bins somewhat full, like the cleaning staff hasn’t been in yet. Sun streaming through the warped glass windows, lighting dust specks in the air and putting rainbows on the old, broad-planked floor.
There’s no second story. Instead, the ceiling is arched and high, held up with thick timbers.
If Theo and Grey are also here, they have to be hiding in an office or one of the bathrooms.
“Do you have dishwashers on your staff?” Emma asks her friends.
The two of them share a look, barely keeping straight faces. “You think we’re washing dishes in our conditions?” Sabrina finally says.
“They’re coming…later,” Laney adds.
That’s ominous, but after taking another look at each of them in turn, Emma laughs. “If you say so.”
“We do,” Laney says quickly.
“Wine?” Sabrina interjects. “We have a lovely prosecco from the Questionable Intentions river valley. It hits your nose with a fizzle and finishes with an inclination for bad decisions.”
She delivers the description so dryly, I can’t help but laugh along with Emma. Someone has apparently been on a wine tour she didn’t fully appreciate before.
“I would love some nose-fizzle wine,” Emma tells her friend.
“And remember the bread.” Laney sets the plate of deviled eggs on the table, then whips a blue checkered napkin off of a bread bowl.
Emma gasps softly, then laughs again. “ Jonas . Have you had Sir Pretzelot pretzels yet? You have to try this.”
She pulls me closer to the table, dropping my hand as she reaches for one of the giant pretzels on top of the pottery plate.
She tears off a bite and holds it to my mouth.
“Here. It’s okay if you don’t like it. I can eat enough for both of us.
But don’t feel obligated to not like it just because I’d eat all of this without regret.
I know where to get more. And I do. All the time. ”
I don’t taste the pretzel.
It’s not the pretzel either.
It’s the fact that Emma’s feeding it to me, standing so close I can smell the baby shampoo and mint on her. So close that I can count the freckles on her nose. So close that I could pull her body against mine and kiss her until neither of us can breathe.
Why did I think a date before spending the night in her bed was a good idea?
Why didn’t we stay home?
I could’ve ordered in pretzels.
Her eyes are sparkling as she watches me chew. “Isn’t it?—”
A giant sneeze from some other part of the building cuts her off.
She closes her eyes, sighs, and then looks back at her friends.
Laney’s struggling to hide a wince.
Sabrina’s completely straight-faced as she pours two glasses of prosecco. “Behave yourselves tonight, you two. The train station ghost is acting up.”
“Bitsy’s making fish and chips, isn’t she?” she says to Sabrina.
“Not for you. We know you prefer the lamb.”
“But for… the ghost ?”
“You know the ghost can never turn down a free meal,” Laney murmurs.
Emma laughs, and I barely realize I’m staring until Laney clears her throat. “Would you like to sit?”
Sit .
Crap.
First rule of taking a lady on a date. You pull out her chair.
And I’m standing here just gawking at her because she’s so damn pretty when she smiles that the rest of my brain has floated away like a runaway balloon.
But Sabrina has Emma’s chair and Laney has mine.
And both of them are smiling like they have a secret.
They probably do.
They know all of Emma’s secrets.
Most of them.
They know most of Emma’s secrets.
Not all of them. Apparently she’s changed since her wedding.
“Enjoy your bread and eggs and wine,” Sabrina says after we’ve both sat. “We’ll be back with your next course soon.”
“Does that mean they’ll be watching us?” I ask Emma.
She laughs again, then nods. “Definitely.”
I’ve been on dates knowing that pictures would show up online or on gossip sites. I’ve been on dates that have been interrupted by people wanting pictures and autographs.
But I’ve never been on a date while being served by my date’s best friends, knowing they’ll be spying on us, and excruciatingly aware that one wrong move on my part could completely wreck my plans for the rest of the evening.
Possibly the rest of my life.
Emma tears the full pretzel in half and sets the bigger piece on the bread plate in front of me. “They’re not going to spy the whole night.”
I raise a very suspicious brow at her, which has the effect of making her smile grow impossibly wider.
I hope Bash got some of that smile. I truly, truly hope he did. That he just hasn’t grown into it yet.
“They’re not ,” she insists. “Pretend they’re strangers who have absolutely no interest in us whatso…ever…
A frown overtakes her expression as she trails off.
Now I’m aiming two curious eyebrows at her.
She lifts a finger.
And then she crawls under the table.
My dick goes so hard, so fast, I feel it from the pit of my stomach all the way up to my throat.
Is she—she’s not.
Is she?
Oh god. Oh fuck. Oh god.
I cannot take a blow job under the table from her while her best friends and brother are mere feet away.
I also can’t squeak out the words to tell her so, because my brain has malfunctioned.
It’s stuck on images of Emma’s lips wrapped around my cock, gliding over my length while she plays with my balls and lifts those eyes to watch me watching her pleasure me with her mouth, and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck .
Get it under control, Rutherford. You’re a fucking grown man who can control his fucking urges to fantasize about sex while you’re at dinner with a woman you’d like to keep up screaming your name all night long .
Nope.
Not helping.
Not helping, and the tablecloth rustles, and I feel Emma’s hand on my knee, and shit shit shit shit shit.
“Em—” I croak out hoarsely.
If we were alone—fuck me, why aren’t we alone ?
Whose brilliant idea was this to treat her to a fancy date before I crawled into her bed with her tonight?
Mine.
My very, very, very stupid idea.
Next time she says she wants to sleep with me, we’re just doing it the minute we can find the bare minimum amount of privacy.
None of this I will treat her like she’s a proper girlfriend who deserves dates first bullshit.
She is.
She does.
But when a lady wants you, you let the lady have you .
“Em—” I croak again.
Her head pops up from beneath the black linen tablecloth. “Unless it’s under your chair, Theo didn’t tape his pho— Jonas? Are you okay? You look a little ill.”
Theo didn’t tape his phone .
I try to swallow and almost choke on my own tongue instead.
Grasp for water.
Don’t realize I have the prosecco in my hand until the bubbles hit my throat, then my nose, and suddenly I’m choking.
“I—fine,” I rasp between coughs.
Emma’s horrified.
She has no idea what’s going on, but her brows are knit together and her lips are parted and she keeps darting glances to where Sabrina and Laney disappeared, like she’s debating if she should call for them.
And then she glances over at Robert, standing guard just outside the glass-paned door to the train station.
I pound on my own chest and get a gulp of real water.
Emma puts a hand to my knee again, and this time , I know it’s not with the intent of sliding that hand up my thigh, rubbing it mercilessly over my cock, then unbuttoning my pants and doing me with her mouth. Even though she’s still on her knees under the fucking table.
Emma’s eyes suddenly go huge, and she squeaks.
Looks at the table.
At my crotch.
At my face. “You—you thought I?—”
I make a strangled noise and go for more water.
Her lips wobble. They’re forming a giant O , and they’re wobbling. So are her cheeks.
And her eyes.
Her eyes tell me she’s pieced this all together and she’s simultaneously amused and horrified and sorry for me.
“I—” she starts again before cutting herself off again.
“My bad,” I rasp. “Fantasies got away from me.”
She slowly closes her mouth. Still right there on the floor next to me, her hand still on my knee.
And then a wicked, delicious grin slowly spreads over her face. “Will you tell me about them?” she whispers.
“Yes. Later .”
“Promise?”
“On my life.”
Her gaze darts once more to the area of the train station where Sabrina and Laney disappeared to, where the sound of the sneeze came from.
She pinches her lips together, like that can stop her smile.
Which it can’t.
And that smile?
The way her eyes have lit up?
Completely worth all of the pain. The ache in my dick. The burn in my throat and nose. The knowledge that her friends will likely tell this story for the rest of their lives if they’re watching.
Which they likely are.
Definitely worth it.
She pulls her hand away from my knee, leaving a void in me at the lack of contact.
She’s glowing as she re-takes her seat.
Absolutely glowing.
The way she’s always deserved to glow.
It’s not me making her glow like this. It’s this whole life she’s built for herself here. Bash. The friends so tight they’re family. Her home and her chickens and her job.
I want to be the reason she glows brightest.
But I bring more complications than anything else in her life.
Which means I need to step up my game.
And be even better.
And deserve her.