12. Emerson #2
“There was a lot going on in your own life, Hen. Mama knew how much you loved her. We know how much you love us, as well.” I swallow down my own emotion before continuing. “Don’t let that guilt tarnish all the good memories you have with her. She wouldn’t want that for you, nor would I.”
I squeeze her palm, and her head bobs in agreement as she lets my words sink in. Her thumb brushes against my hand. It was gentle and brief, but still managed to send a ripple of electricity through my nervous system.
“You can’t keep going on like this, Em. I don’t know how long you are going to be in town, but your body is going to give out if you don’t start taking care of it. Especially if you don’t allow yourself to find some peace.”
Nurturing has always been a part of Henley’s personality.
She’s always been able to know exactly what someone needs.
Ryleigh and I gave her the nickname ‘Mama bear’ growing up for this very reason.
I’ve learned to keep my emotions behind a shield for most of my life, but Henley’s been the only one who could ever pierce right through it.
Like magic, she always knew when I was at my lowest point.
It’s one of the things I find most endearing about her.
Memories of our past filter into my mind.
I can almost hear her feet thundering up the stairs with a slice of pie or cake.
Can almost taste the sweet and salty crunch of the cookies she used to send to me during every racing season, each one with little notes of encouragement tucked inside.
Another one of the many things I’ve missed over these past years.
“I could say the same to you.” I raise a brow, and surprise flitters through her face. “Harper told me about your couch situation.”
“Oh.” She leans back into the bench cushion, fingers twirling within the ends of her hair. “Yeah, it hasn’t been exactly ideal. I was thinking of finally investing in a blow up mattress today.”
Her breathy chuckle begins to slowly reel me back from the darkness. Sparking a new idea into my mind.
One night at dinner, Dad had mentioned wanting to get the cabins ready to start taking in guests. It warmed my heart when he’d reminded me it was Mama’s last wish to make sure we filled this land with life. It also damn near broke me.
Of course, I agreed to help.
Excitedly, he shared that two were already furnished and ready, but he needed help with the remaining ten, as well as a few other things he wanted to add to make it ready for guests by the fall.
It was almost the middle of July, so we had just a few more months.
More reason to acquire an extra set of hands.
If I could move into the cabins, it would get me out of the house while also still allowing me to help and be there for Dad.
Maybe even actually get some quality sleep.
Peeking up at the woman across from me, a grin spreads wide on my face. “I have a proposal.”
Her brow raises curiously, and for some reason I start to feel nervous.
“Why don’t you move in with me?” I wince, watching her mouth fall open. “I mean not with me—” I chuckle awkwardly as she shakes her head.
Well, hell. This is not the way I intended any of that to come out. Normally, I have a little more finesse around women. Around Hen, I’m failing spectacularly.
“What exactly are you trying to say, Emerson?” she asks. I catch a little mirth twitch through her lips. With a deep breath I settle in and try again.
“Do you remember those cabins that we started building, the ones for Mama’s dude ranch dream?”
“Of course. We used to talk about it while baking sometimes.”
“Well, now that I’m back for a while, Dad asked for my help to finish the rest of what we started. He’d like to start renting out to guests by the fall. There are two already finished and completely furnished. So, I was thinking—maybe we could each take one?”
Her face is calm, almost serene, leaving me struggling to determine her reaction. So, I keep going, hoping the more I say the more I can convince her.
“You could help us decorate it, too. You and Mama always had similar tastes. Dad also needs help with finding a chef for the guests or maybe creating menus that would fit the feeling of the space.”
A fire ignites in her eyes. There you are.
“I don’t know.” She sighs deeply. “I’d feel bad leaving my parents’ house. I mean, I just got back, and I feel I have so much to catch up on.”
“Our lands may be big, but in case you’ve forgotten, we are literally neighbors, Hen,” I scoff. “It’s just a short ride away. Trust me, I remember many trips to your house over the years.”
Her sweet smile shines through once more, and I hold my breath as she opens her mouth to answer. Unfortunately, a blast from my past bombards through the door and into our conversation before she can.
“My, my . . . Emerson Lane has once again graced us with his presence. How lucky are we?” The familiar high-pitched voice from high school purrs next to me. My glance shifts from Henley to Brittany Fawn, my off-and-on high school girlfriend.
Painful is the word that about sums up our relationship.
It took me a while to realize that she never really was interested in my mind, or my heart.
She was only interested in the money and fame that came along with my suddenly blossoming racing career.
I’ll never forget the day I took her to a race and caught her handing her number to another one of the drivers. That was the end for me.
Britt’s eyes flitter toward Hen and her smile drops. “Oh, Henley. Didn’t see you there.”
She shrugs quickly, then sets her sights back on me. “Since you’re back in town, you should really take me out some time.” Her bright red nails grip my arm as she leans forward and whispers into my ear. “My number’s still the same.”
Henley’s gaze sears into Britt’s hand that is currently wrapped around my bicep. As I struggle to hold in my laugh, I watch her fist tighten around the napkin she’s holding. The look in her eyes right now looks a lot like jealousy. And I’m not ashamed to say it affects me more than it should.
I remove Britt’s hand from my arm, but before I can stop her, she plants a kiss on my cheek and storms off to the front of the shop.
Crumpled cloth smacks me in the side of my head. I meet Hen’s seething glaze as she points to her cheek. The same spot where Brittany must have left some lipstick behind. My laugh breaks free as I wipe the offending evidence away.
“Jealous?” I tease. Trying my best not to show just how much I’m enjoying the way her eyes grow wide and her mouth falls open.
“Absolutely not,” she scoffs.
“Hmm, whatever you say, Trouble.”
I wince, the nickname flying freely from my lips before I could rein it back. This time, however, a pinkish hue warms her skin. From her freckled cheeks, all the way down her neck. There’s no hiding the shiver that ripples through me from her reaction.
“I’m in,” she squeaks.
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you,” I smirk.
She purses her lips, then says it again. “I’m in. I’ll move into the other cabin.”
“You sure?” I ask gently. Inside, I’m screaming out loud for her to give this a chance.
“I’m sure.” She bites her lip, as if trying to force her mouth shut because at any moment she might change her mind.
I feel like I’m about to float off the bench, so I reach out for her hand to anchor me. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Raising the back of her hand to my lips, I press a featherlight kiss onto it. As I rise from the table, her gaze lingers on the spot my lips brushed.
Without another word, I walk out the front door before I’m tempted to kiss more than just her hand.