Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NEXT SPRING
ANDERS
“Having an illustrator over here makes my life so much easier. Thank you for making that happen,” Rory said, perched on a stool in the kitchen.
It was one of those crisp fall days in the Pacific Northwest when it would be a crime not to have every window open. The sun was bright, the sky clear. It might’ve been perfection.
“Since I’m not the one doing the illustrating, I’m not sure what I did to deserve the thanks,” I said. “But you’re welcome.”
“And I really, really love that you’re not working yourself to death anymore,” Rory added. “And that you found a job you actually love.”
“Yeah. I was a little worried about quitting my old job, but Emil made it sound simple. And with him around, I guess it is. He never questioned any part of it. Even when I took the grocery store job until the one at Jonah’s flower shop opened up. He just shrugged and said whatever made me happy.”
Rory grinned. “So when are you going to marry that man and put him out of his misery?”
He popped an olive into his mouth and winked at me. He knew exactly what he was doing. Emil probably put him up to it.
“I told him we could get married as soon as we do a prenup.”
Rory blinked. “You make that much at the flower shop that you need a prenup?”
“Not for me,” I said. “For him.” I paused and added, “And you know that perfectly well.”
“I don’t think Emil is worried about you taking his money. Anyone who knows you knows that wouldn’t happen.”
“That’s not the point,” I said. “I want it to be clear that I don’t want his money.”
Rory shrugged. “I don’t think Emil gives a shit about that, to be honest.”
“He doesn’t,” I said quietly. “But I do.”
“Speaking of money, I saw that John got what he deserved for that crap he pulled.” Rory crowed and waved his fork around. “He pled guilty so…” Rory jumped off the stool and did a happy dance that would put Jakob’s to shame.
“Who?”
“Uh, John McIntyre. Man who tried to ruin your life?”
“Oh, him.”
“What do you think about it?”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I shrugged. I hadn’t thought about him in months, and I wasn’t about to start now. “Whatever happens is between him and the insurance company, which had to pay out on behalf of the accounting firm.”
“When I grow up, your Zen abilities would be fantastic.”
Before I could answer, I heard the clink of the front door opening and the slam of it shutting.
“Helloooooo,” Emmie called as he walked into the kitchen. He’d spent the afternoon with Micah and Calvin, discussing how to transfer his company’s charity work to the Rutledge Foundation so that what John orchestrated couldn’t happen again.
What I told Rory was the tiniest bit of a lie.
Truthfully, I did think about John, but only to be grateful that he was the roundabout way I found Emmie.
And that handsome brown-eyed man smiling from the doorway was everything to me.
He was also glancing at Rory out of the corner of his eye, and Rory was looking more guilty than I’d ever seen him. Suspicion confirmed.
“Hello to you too. Had lunch yet?”
When Emmie shook his head, I jumped off the stool and beckoned him closer. He replaced me there, snagged me around the waist for a quick kiss, and then let me dance away to fix his lunch. I created a quick sandwich, added a double pickle because I knew he loved them, and sliced cucumbers.
“Want some of my salad?”
Rory snorted, but I ignored him.
“All yours, sweet boy.” He softened it with a smile, but I wasn’t offended regardless. They didn’t appreciate it’s fluffy goodness,
“More for me,” I shrugged. “Finished with Micah and Calvin?”
“Yeah, Levi is going to handle the legalities, but they will officially be overseeing the charity fund, and it’ll be subject to outside audits, so no more shenanigans.”
“Is that overkill?” I asked him while I wiped down the counters.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but I want the employees to know we handled it and took it seriously, including replacing the money that the fucker put in his pocket.”
I knew that every time the subject of John crossed Emil’s mind, it pissed him off all over again, so I let it drop. I also clocked Rory nodding at Emil when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
“Are the two of you going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked, exasperated.
Rory had the decency to look guilty. Emil tried and failed to look innocent.
“What are you talking about?” Rory said, wearing the most beautifully innocent expression I had ever seen on his face. He ruined it immediately by breaking into giggles.
“Emil,” I said, “are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
My sweetheart of a boyfriend took my hands and led me around the counter until I was pressed against him, standing between his spread legs. Rory, to his credit, looked away. I looped my arms around Emil’s neck and kissed him. Firmly. On purpose.
“What is going on?”
“So maybe Rory was supposed to butter you up today,” Emil said, “and maybe kind of, sort of mention marriage.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Emmie. Give me a prenup that says I don’t get your money, and I’ll marry you tomorrow.”
Rory’s head snapped up. “Can I call you that?”
“No, you cannot,” I cut in. “You can call him Emil.”
Rory grinned because, of course, he did. He’d gotten exactly the reaction he wanted. He was absolutely stirring the shit today.
“Emil, you’re not going to win this argument,” Rory said cheerfully. “Give him the prenup, and you’ll be married by the weekend. Anders may be the sweetest guy alive, but he’s also stubborn as hell. Give it up, my guy.”
“Sit down, sweet boy.” Emmie nodded to the floor pillow on the carpet between his knees.
I sank down and made myself comfortable, half leaning against him.
He picked up the brush from the table beside him and began brushing out my hair.
It was my favorite ritual of the day. No matter how tired either of us was, or grouchy, or out of sorts, our day ended this way. Emmie brushed my hair. Always.
“What’s your schedule again next week?” Emmie asked after a few strokes.
“I’m working Thursday, Friday, and Saturday at the flower shop. Jonah asked me to cover for him for a few days.”
“So the following weekend you’ll be off still?”
“I should be, yeah. Was there something you wanted to do?”
One of the many things I loved about Emmie was how valid he made my life feel, even after I resigned from my job and started working at the flower shop.
He never made plans without checking with me.
He treated my schedule like it mattered because, to him, it did.
I never took that contrast for granted, and I loved him all the more for it.
“I was hoping you might want to go on a little trip with me,” he said. “If you’re not busy or anything.”
“Where are we going?”
“I was thinking we’d go away for the weekend. It might be nice to get off the island for a bit.”
I twisted around so I could look at him directly. “Are you kidding me?”
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I turned back around and hugged my knees to my chest, smiling. This man was everything to me.
Stroke after stroke, he brushed my hair while we chatted about our day and our plans for tomorrow.
I had already set out his clothes and polished his shoes before I took my shower, so his trip into the city the following morning would start without a hitch.
I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere myself.
I planned to spend the day working on the felted animals I’d become slightly obsessed with, which was fine because I was creating an entire village for Beckett and Will’s kiddo.
“Do you think you could come with me into town tomorrow?” Emmie asked as he finished the last brushstroke.
“Of course. Do you mind if I ask why?”
“Because I scheduled an appointment with Levi to talk about a prenup.”
He said the words with confidence, but I heard the hint of fear underneath. I scrambled to my knees and turned to face him.
“You did?”
“Yeah. After Rory left, I texted him. He said we could come in and talk about it first thing in the morning.”
“Do you understand why it matters to me?”
“I just wish you didn’t think it was necessary.”
“But I appreciate you understanding anyway.”
“My only request,” Emmie said quietly, “is that there be an endpoint. I don’t care if it’s a year, or two, or five. I just need to know there’s an endpoint because I fall in love with you again every single day. And I need to know you believe that.”
“I can agree to that.”
Emmie threaded his fingers through my long hair. He gathered the strands until he was cradling my head in his hands and drew me forward. His kiss was soft and gentle. When he pulled back, the smile on his lips reached his eyes.
“Thank you for compromising with me.” I leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you.” Another one. “You are everything I never imagined I could have.”
With a groan, Emmie captured my mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue brushed against my lips, asking for access, and I willingly gave it to him. He mapped familiar territory, and each thrust reminded me what I had to look forward to.
“Sweet boy, I’m going to need you to stand up,” Emmie said when he finally drew back.
Emmie’s kisses left me weak in the knees, and I staggered to my feet as his hands roamed from the top of my chest to the waistband of my sleep pants.
“Sweetheart, take your shirt off for me.”
I whipped it over my head and tossed it somewhere on the floor. Emmie chuckled because he knew I regretted it the second I did it.
“Yes, you can go grab it.”
I pretended to huff in annoyance, but I went to pick it up and place it neatly on the floor. While I was there, he nodded toward my pants, and I took those off too.
I walked back between his knees. His hands went immediately to my waist. His mouth followed, licking its way up my chest until he reached my nipples, licking, sucking, and biting until they were sharp and aching. His fingers dug into my waist, then slid down my thighs and around to cup my ass.
My cock was already hard, growing steelier by the second and dripping sticky precum. Emmie grabbed a towel that appeared out of nowhere, pushed me back slightly, then stood.
He nodded toward the chair. “I want to taste that peach.”
I scrambled onto the chair, knees braced against the arms, ass in the air. If I was supposed to be embarrassed, I missed the memo. I knew I was about to be a very happy man.
Emmie traced two fingers between the crack of my ass, skimming over the rosebud that felt like it held all my secrets. He jacked my cock a few times, watching the sticky precum collect, then paused long enough to suck his fingers into his mouth.
“Sweetheart, you’re fucking delicious.”
He traced his fingers over my ass again, this time stopping to tease me.
“Emmie, please don’t make me wait.”
Instead of answering, he pressed his mouth to me.
My gasp echoed around the room. I felt, rather than heard, his chuckle before he did it again and again.
His tongue explored every inch, licking, sucking, kissing.
Finally, his mouth settled against me, his tongue circling the outer ring of muscle until my body relaxed enough to let him inside.
When his tongue finally thrust into me, every nerve in my body went on high alert. Sensations coursed through me that I didn’t have words for. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was groan, animalistic and helpless, overwhelmed by how good he made me feel.
My body felt like it was floating and on the edge of exploding all at once, and I didn’t know how to balance the two sensations.
All I knew was that I never wanted it to stop.
Emmie’s tongue continued to push inside me over and over until I was close to the edge.
My cock leaked onto the covered seat beneath me, and my back bent like a bow in a mindless attempt to find relief.
“Emmie…Emmie…Emmie,” I chanted while the man who held my heart with such care drove me out of my damn mind. His hand tugged my cock while his mouth worked my ass.
It was all too much. I exploded across his fist, but even as the ropes of cum spilled out of me, his mouth never left me. When the last pulse faded, he stayed there, and I was left shaking.
“Need to feel you. Please, Emmie. Mark me,” I gasped.
Emmie’s growl was his response. He braced himself by gripping the back of the chair and worked his cock furiously.
I heard the obscene sound of his hand, heard his guttural shout, and felt his sticky cum splash across my back.
The smell of sex filled the room, and my awareness felt like it was drifting away.
Emmie leaned down and massaged his cum into my skin.
I fucking loved it. Fucking. Loved. It.
The thought crossed my mind that I was starting to sound like him, and that made me laugh weakly. I was worn out.
“Coming makes you laugh?” Emmie growled near my ear.
“No. It’s thinking about how much I fucking loved it, and realizing I sound like you. That’s what’s funny.”
“Oh no. You’re going to end up a potty mouth over the next forty years.” Emmie brushed my damp hair aside and kissed the back of my neck. “I like it.”
“Forty years, huh?”
“It’s a minimum.”
Emmie pulled me back and settled me onto his lap. I curled up there and let the moment settle. I loved that Emmie was solid. I never worried about breaking him.
“I’ll take it.”
“I’ll take you forever.”
I hope you enjoyed reading Emil and Anders’s story.