18. Emma
18
Emma
All these years I’ve held on to something that, for Ryan, was a flippant remark, a comment he’s hardly thought about since. That much was evident in his expression earlier. What was also clear, however, was his utter remorse as he slowly realized how much he had hurt me.
I never planned to tell him how he made me feel all those years ago. Megan’s sudden arrival has had me so unsettled; the words just flew out of my mouth. Yet, now, as we’re driving back to Maple Springs, it’s like this great burden I’ve been carrying has finally been taken off me, like the gate has opened, and I’m free from a prison of my own making.
With the air cleared, this evening has felt so much better and easier, if that makes sense. It does to me. In fact, I would say the barrier that stood between us—okay, a barrier Ryan knew nothing about—has dissipated, leaving me to really begin to feel.
Which is likely why that tender kiss he gave me had my stomach doing somersaults and my breath leaving my body. If we had been anywhere else, I don’t think either of us would have pulled away so chastely. When I gazed up at him, I saw the spark dancing in his eyes. A spark that matched my own excitement.
It should come as no surprise to me after talking to Sharon and Debs. The feelings have been ruminating for a while now. And yet, I’ve held back. Partly because of what happened in high school, and partly because I’m afraid of committing to the person I thought Ryan was. But like Debs said, I don’t need to make any quick decisions. I can feel without having to act. It just hasn’t been as easy as she made out. I’m not actually a colander!
When Ryan pulls up outside my house, he turns to me and smiles.
“I think we should elope.”
“What?” I gawk in a totally unladylike fashion.
His suggestion comes right off the back of the thoughts that were ruminating in my head, which doesn’t help my surprised stupor.
He grins even wider at me. “You heard Phil. This is going to have to carry on for a while, and we are supposed to be getting married. But I figure, instead of all the pomp and ceremony, we could run away and get the same result.”
I’m still gobsmacked, and as my mind whirls at a hundred miles an hour, I can’t think of one thing to say. In fact, I think I’m panicking a bit.
Like he’s reading my mind, he laughs a little. “We won’t actually be getting married, Emma. It’s just for appearances. We can go away for a day, and by the time we come back, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Ryan Steele.”
I still can’t get my mouth to work, and I’m sure I must look like a mannequin at this point. Ryan still looks at me, though his smile is giving off amused vibes now. As in, he’s laughing at me. But then his eyebrows pinch.
“Or did you want all the pomp of a fancy ceremony?”
“No.” I shake my head firmly.
I might not know much in this second, but I know that. When I first agreed to help Ryan out with his situation, I thought I knew what I was getting into. I had no idea. Interviews, functions, photographs, it’s been nuts. The idea of having to do all that while wearing a flouncy dress does not appeal to me at all. Besides, I’ve seen my picture in enough tabloids to last a lifetime.
Ryan nods. “I didn’t think so. If we elope, we can avoid all that.”
“Alright,” I say, my mind slowly settling after the shock. “Then let’s do that.”
Three days later, he picks me up, and we head out of Maple Springs. Sharon and Debs are thrilled that we’re getting married, albeit fake-married, and both are sworn to secrecy until we return. Then it’s their job to get the rumor mill working in our small town, while Ryan will contact Phil and tell him the news.
“So, where are we going?”
Ryan throws me a grin. “I could tell you, but I don’t want to.”
“Well, as long as it’s not Vegas, I don’t care.”
“Darn it.” He clicks his fingers in feigned disappointment. “Now you’ve gone and ruined the surprise.”
I giggle then, and he glances over at me with that trademark smile. His eyes are dancing again, and they linger just a second longer before he turns to look back at the road. Things have been much easier between us since the night at the dinner. He’s come in for his appointments—appointments he won’t need for very much longer—and we’ve gotten back to the lighthearted banter we shared before.
More than that, we’ve grown closer. At least, that’s the way I see it. He’s taken hold of my hand a few times, supposedly a supportive and friendly gesture, but it feels like much more to me. By the gaze that accompanies it, I think it means more to him, too. And yet, neither of us is making a move. I know my reasons. I don’t know his, and I’m too scared to ask. Yes, those scars of rejection remain, even after the apology.
An hour and a half later, we’re driving down a quiet road with hardly another car on it. We’re surrounded by tall pine trees, dusted with snow, their branches still full of lush green foliage. After a little while, sparkling water peaks through the gaps in the trees.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“This is the best-kept secret in the county,” Ryan replies.
“Okay,” I sing, looking at him expectantly.
The road now bends, and the trees thin to reveal a huge body of water. We drive beside the lake for a few more seconds, but when Ryan doesn’t say anything else, I can’t help but press him.
“So?”
He chuckles. “You’ll see.”
Wherever we are, it’s beautiful. As far as I can see, the lake is surrounded by huge pines and other evergreens, dominantly standing as though guarding the body of water that sparkles as it reflects the light. As I take the scene in, I make a mental note to remember where Ryan has brought me because I’ll definitely be coming back.
It’s another five minutes before a large building comes into view. The design is based on a log cabin, but bigger, with a small area surrounding it where a few cars are already parked. As we approach, a sign on my left tells me that this place is a spa resort.
I frown across the car. “A spa?”
His face is glowing with a beaming grin, but he doesn’t say a word until he finally pulls into the parking lot and brings the car to a stop. Only then does he shift in his seat to fully turn to me.
“I figure, you spend all your time massaging everyone back to health. It’s time you got some of that benefit yourself.”
He’s gazing at me with pride, but not arrogance. Like he’s all happy with himself that he’s gotten me here, while at the same time, his eyes are soft and caring.
I’m a little stunned. It’s not that I don’t think Ryan has the capability to be caring. I know he does. He’s shown that already on many occasions. It’s just…
His brow pinches again. “You don’t like it?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s not that,” I say, still taken aback. “It’s just… no one has ever done anything like this for me before.”
The eyebrows are now way up on his forehead, and his eyes widen. “Really?”
“Really.” I nod.
I can feel his gaze searching my soul, his eyes piercing into mine. His brow is in workout mode again, and I can’t tell what’s going through his mind. Then he tilts his head, and his eyes soften.
“Then they didn’t deserve you,” he breathes, his voice deep and low.
Immediately, my heart leaps, my stomach lurches, and I have to swallow a gasp. He continues to gaze at me while I feel the rush of heat traveling up my neck and into my face. I want to hold his gaze, but it’s too much, and so, I let my eyes wander past his shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he says, all smiles again as he jumps out of the car.
Me? I’ve flown back in time. Back to that teenager who worshipped the ground he walked on. Only, this isn’t a crush any longer. This is something far bigger than that. I’m not a little girl anymore.
My car door opens, pulling me out of my trance. When Ryan offers me his hand, I take it, a sensation tingling up my arm at the joining of our palms. As we make our way across the parking lot, he doesn’t let go.
Reaching the desk, we find a beautiful blonde woman typing efficiently. A second later, she lifts her head, gives us a show of her perfectly white teeth against her falsely tanned skin, and asks how she can help us. When I listen to the day Ryan has organized for me, I’m nearly breathless again. Scalp massage, full body massage, hot stone treatment, facial, the list goes on.
“This is too much,” I gasp.
“It isn’t enough,” he replies, his voice deep again, his eyes gazing into mine. “Not nearly enough for what you’ve done for me, Emma.”
I don’t know what to say to that, and then he gives me his trademark grin.
“Right,” he says, leaning into me and kissing my cheek, his lips burning their mark on my skin. “I’ll leave you to it.”
And then he disappears out the door. I want to ask him where he’s going, but he’s already gone.
“Miss Carter,” the lady behind the counter says. “If you will follow me.”
When I see Ryan again, I feel like my soul has left my body, every worry has disappeared, and I’ve experienced my own personal version of nirvana. Of course, he’s grinning, clearly delighted that the day has done exactly what he hoped it would.
“Wow,” he says. “You’re glowing.”
“That’ll be the champagne,” I say dreamily.
He chuckles, takes my hand again, and then leads me to the car.
Truly, I cannot remember the last time I was ever this relaxed. In fact, I don’t think I have ever been this relaxed. I don’t remember the journey back. Mainly because I’m fast asleep for most of it.
A soft feeling on my cheek wakes me, and stirring, I open my eyes to see Ryan stroking the soft skin of my face.
“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re back.”
“Oh,” I gasp. “I’m sorry.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
I let out a long sigh, and look around to see that we are, indeed, back in Maple Springs, and now parked outside my house.
“You want coffee?” I offer.
I can see his brow working again, trying to decide if he should say yes or no. He eventually makes a decision. “Sure.”
In the kitchen, Ryan leans his tall frame against my counter while I fill the coffee machine, still struggling to rouse myself. When I move across the kitchen for the cups, I can see him looking around.
“Not quite a mansion,” I quip.
“It’s nice,” he says. “But yes, I suppose the mansion will be a bit weird for you.”
I still and look at him, my brow furrowing.
He returns my gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Well, we’re married now, right? It’ll look pretty weird if we live in different houses.”