Chapter 17 Emma
I wake slowly, cocooned in Eric’s warmth. The fire has burned down to soft embers, and the first streaks of morning light slip through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Eric’s body is pressed against mine, his arm draped over my waist, his hand resting just below my ribs. The steady rise and fall of his breath against my back sends a shiver down my spine, and I sink deeper into the comfort of him.
For the first time since I left New York, peace settles into my bones. The kind that isn’t fleeting. The kind that feels like home.
Eric Waters is finally mine.
His touch, his warmth, the way he holds me, even in sleep, makes every second of waiting feel worthwhile.
Somewhere upstairs, his phone rings. I squeeze my eyes shut and ignore it. Not now. Not when I have him like this. But he stirs behind me, muscles flexing against my back as he exhales a groggy sigh.
“Let it go to voicemail,” I murmur, pressing myself closer. “It’s too early for phone calls.”
His whiskey-brown eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep. A lazy, satisfied smile tugs at his lips as he tightens his hold around my waist. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Before I can answer, he brushes a kiss over my lips. It’s soft and teasing, just enough to make me want more.
"Good morning," I whisper against his mouth, stealing another kiss.
“How’s your foot?” he asks, his voice slightly husky.
This time, my phone rings upstairs. I tense, a flicker of guilt rising, but I push it down.
Dad’s been stable. If it were truly urgent, they’d call twice—or leave a message. I just need five more minutes. Five more minutes of warmth, of skin on skin, of pretending the world doesn’t exist.
I wiggle my toes and smile. “Still hurts a bit, but it’s much better.”
He stretches beside me, a deep, contented groan vibrating from his chest. The blanket slips lower, revealing smooth, golden skin and the hard-cut muscles I spent last night mapping with my hands. My eyes wander down between us, and I catch the sight of his morning wood. I raise an eyebrow, my grin turning wicked.
Eric follows my line of sight, and his mouth curves up. “Like what you see, sweetheart?”
“Is that even a question?” I bite my lip, slipping beneath him. He hovers above me, the soft weight of his body pressing me deeper into the blankets. My pulse pounds, heat pooling between my thighs. "Is it for me?"
His grin darkens, voice low and rough. “Always for you.”
His fingers slip beneath the blankets, skimming over my bare skin, tracing the curves of my body like he’s relearning every inch of me. I shiver as he cups my breast, his thumb circling my nipple, teasing until it hardens beneath his touch.
“Eric,” I breathe, my hands clutching at his shoulders as my hips rock up against him, instinctive and needy.
His mouth finds mine. He steals my breath with a slow, intoxicating kiss as he lines himself up and slowly slides inside me. I dig my fingers into his back as he fills me. The sensation’s overwhelming, just like last night. He starts slowly, but as I meet him thrust for thrust, my inner walls squeezing around him, the pressure intensifies. Pleasure builds, quickly spiralling out of control. His whiskey eyes lock onto mine as he moves in and out, deeper and more intense. He switches the angle and hits my sweet spot.
“Eric, oh God,” I gasp, arching beneath him, “I’m gonna come?—”
“Do it, Emma,” he growls. “Come for me, my darling.”
My orgasm shatters through my limbs and I shake in his hold, but when he tries to withdraw, I whisper. “We’re not finished.”
I wrap my legs tighter around his hips, allowing him to bury himself deep within me. He pushes harder this morning, and a few thrust in, he releases a groan that echoes in the dim room. We lay tangled underneath the blankets, slowly catching our breaths. He brushes my hair away from my face, his lips trailing soft kisses along my temple and jaw.
“Shower?” I ask.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I had you naked in a shower,” he whispers.
“Not the same.” I chuckle, recalling how Eric saved my glittering pussy after the nightclub.
We drag ourselves away from the fireplace on shaky legs, but Eric quickly lifts me into his arms and carries me upstairs. I giggle, stumbling into the shower. Water streams down my body, warm and comforting. He squeezes shampoo onto his palm and washes my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp. I melt into his caring touch as he rinses my hair. He lathers a sponge and begins washing my body.
When he hardens against me, pressing into my back, I lift my sore foot onto the shower bench, opening up for him.
“You love teasing me, don’t you?” His voice rumbles against my ear, low and dangerous, making my skin tingle. The steam cocoons us, the water cascading over our bodies like a veil.
I turn my head to look at the desire swimming in his eyes.
“More than you know,” I say.
Heat flares in my veins, lust and love warring for dominance. My front presses into the glass shower wall, my breath fogging the surface as he slides into my sex.
“How. Does. It. Feel. Not. To be. A virgin?" he asks, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. Delectable shivers run down my spine as Eric fills me.
I whimper, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on the glass. “Wonderful.”
He pushes harder.
“Oh god, yes!"
His thrusts deepen, and the water makes everything slicker. My cheek presses against the cool glass. His breath comes in ragged gasps behind me, and the low groan vibrates through my limbs.
“Emma,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, “I need you to tell me...tell me how this feels.”
I turn my head slightly, just enough for our eyes to meet. His intense gaze pierces right through me. It’s as if he’s etching this exact moment deep into memory, but with him inside me and the relentless rhythm of his hips, it’s difficult to hold on to a single thought.
“It feels...like a dream.” My voice breaks on a moan as he angles his hips. Pleasure ripples through my body. “You’re... You’re perfect, Eric.”
He gently bites my shoulder, his hands tightening on my hips, pulling me deeper onto his length. He bends his head, kissing the back of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. “You’re mine, Emma. Always and forever.”
My body shudders at his words. I want always and forever. I want him every day for the rest of my life. His fingers slip from my hips, one hand splaying across my stomach, pressing me back into him, while the other trails lower. His fingers find my clit, rubbing urgent circles.
“Eric, I can’t... I’m gonna?—”
“Do it,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “Come for me again, Emma. I want to feel you.”
The pressure builds inside me, coiling and tightening until I can’t hold on any longer. My body shakes uncontrollably and my hands press against the glass for support as intense waves of pleasure radiate out to my limbs. Eric lets out a low groan, finally releasing himself as well. He holds me up as my legs give way beneath me.
I lean against him for support. His lips find the sensitive hollow where my neck curves into my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine.
“More than wonderful?” he asks, his voice still breathless.
I let out a weak laugh, turning around in his arms.
“Definitely more.” I lift my hand to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a soft kiss.
We emerge from the shower, toweling off and exchanging playful glances. I slip into one of his shirts, the hem skimming my thighs, while he pulls on a pair of sweatpants, his eyes never leaving me.
We make our way downstairs where the fire has burned down to glowing embers. Eric adds a few logs, stoking the flames until they come back to life, and we sink into the nest of blankets and pillows by the fireplace. The flames flicker, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The smoky cedar sheds warmth that makes me feel both drowsy and completely alive. I curl my legs underneath me, careful with my still sore ankle. Dawn’s rays peek through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold. I burrow deeper into Eric’s embrace, wishing I could freeze this moment, where everything feels safe and certain.
Eric hands me a glass of water, reaches over, and tucks a curl behind my ear.
"You seem far away," he says softly.
I lift my gaze to his, smiling. "Just thinking how perfect this feels."
He shifts closer, wraps an arm around my shoulder , and pulls me against him.
“Perfect, huh? You’re the one who makes everything perfect, Emma.” His whisky eyes catch the fire’s light. “I was thinking, maybe we should go to the sunflower field after breakfast?”
I snuggle into his warm hold, resting my head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulses underneath my cheek.
“I’d love that.”
The wind howls outside, where the temperatures have dropped from the unusual November heat to a nipping chill.
I lift my head. “Tell me something.”
He meets my gaze. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” I smile. “Tell me about your dreams, about what you want... Anything and everything.”
He falls silent, his gaze dropping to the fire as though searching for the right words.
“I want this,” he says, his thumb grazing my cheek. “I want mornings like today, nights like last night, and days with you at my side. I want a future where we’re together, and where nothing else matters except you and me.”
A swell of emotion catches in my throat, a mix of hope and disbelief at the words I never thought I’d hear. “Eric...” I whisper, and his eyes soften.
“There’s more, Emma.” Concern creeps into his voice. “There are things I need to tell you about the farm. Important things.”
I shift to face him. “What is it?”
He takes a deep breath. “Huntz won’t let this go easily. The farm and the land are tied to things I can’t control.”
The weight of his words presses against me, heavy and unyielding. I see the tension carved into his face, feel it in the steady grip of his hand around mine. He’s carried so much alone, but now—now, he’s letting me in. I squeeze his fingers, anchoring us both in this moment.
“I’ve been doing everything I can to keep our home safe, but?—”
I don’t let him finish. I reach out, pressing a fingertip to his lips, silencing the burden he’s trying to shoulder alone.
“I already know.” My voice is barely a whisper, but the truth in it vibrates through the space between us. “I know what you’ve done, how much you’ve risked. And I love you for it.”
Eric stills. His eyes widen, shock flashing across his face. “You know?” His voice is low, almost incredulous.
I nod. “I know about the blackmail. The payments. I know he blamed you for the fire at his parents’ house, but it wasn’t your fault. And as long as you let me help, I’m with you. I’ll be with you until the end.”
He exhales sharply, a deep, shuddering breath, then kisses my temple, but I pull back.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
His brow furrows, concern flickering in his gaze. “What is it?” His hand falls to my lower back, tracing slow, soothing circles, grounding me in his touch.
I hesitate. My cheeks flush, but I force myself to take a breath, to push past the nerves tangling in my throat.
“Eric... I’m ovulating.”
His body stills. His grip on me tightens just slightly. Then, slowly, understanding dawns in his eyes. A slow, breathtaking smile spreads across his face. He presses his forehead to mine, our noses brushing.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His voice is rough, filled with something raw and unguarded.
I swallow hard. “I’m saying... I wouldn’t mind if something came of this. Of us. A future where we have...more. Maybe even a little one. But I don’t want to scare you.”
My heart pounds. Saying it out loud makes it real. It makes it terrifying. My father always told me that family is everything, and that love is worth any risk. But is Eric ready for that? Is he ready for me? For us?
He exhales, his palm splaying over my stomach like he’s already imagining it.
“Darling,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “there’s nothing I would love more than you carrying my child.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly, his touch reverent. “I want that future with you. I want everything.”
I bite my lip, barely able to contain the hopeful smile tugging at my mouth. “You really want that?”
His gaze flickers down, like he’s gathering courage.
“I’ve always wanted this,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “But I never thought I could have it. Not until I found you. Emma, I want everything—with you.”
The sheer honesty in his voice steals the breath from my lungs. Emotion swells, thick and aching. I cup his face, thumb brushing against the stubble along his jaw.
“I want that too,” I whisper. “I want a life with you.”
He presses a lingering kiss to my forehead, his lips soft, his breath warm. Then, he pulls back just slightly, his eyes dark with something unshakable.
“Then let’s make it happen. But I need to tell Grandpa Albert the truth.”
My heart stutters. Grandpa Albert. The man who believes in this engagement more than anyone. The man who has spent his whole life pouring love into this ranch, into his family, into Eric.
I stiffen, searching Eric’s face. “The truth? Which parts?”
“Everything,” he says, his grip tightening around me. “About us. About the engagement. How it started as something to help us both. But now...” He meets my gaze, his warmth wrapping around me like a promise. “Now, I don’t want it to be a lie anymore. He deserves to know how much you’ve sacrificed and how much you’ve helped me. How much I truly love you.”
The words hang between us, so real my breath catches. My heart is too full, too swollen with everything I feel for this man.
I nod, voice barely above a whisper. “Then we’ll tell him. We’ll tell him everything.”
He exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you,” he murmurs.
And then, before I can process what’s happening, he removes his arm from behind me, shifts out of the embrace, and lifts himself onto one knee.
He takes my hands, holding them with a kind of reverence that sends my heart into freefall. This isn’t how I pictured a proposal. It’s not rehearsed, not planned, not in some grand, orchestrated moment. But it’s better. It’s real. It’s raw. It’s him.
“Emma,” he begins, his voice soft, filled with something almost fragile. “I know this isn’t the most conventional way to do this, and maybe we started out with something that wasn’t real...but I want to make it real now. Will you?—”
A loud, insistent banging shatters the moment.
The sound echoes through the house, reverberating off the walls, slicing through the warmth we just built.
My heart leaps to my throat and Eric stiffens. The pounding comes again, harder this time. Demanding.
And then a voice booms from outside, shaking me to my core.
“Eric!”
I freeze.
My brother.
“Eric, open the fucking door before we break it down!”