14. Henley
Henley
The sun’s rays spill through the small cracks between the curtains. The light falls directly onto my face, stirring me awake. Last night, Ryleigh told me to skip my morning chores and sleep in, so that’s exactly what I did.
Dinner had gone surprisingly well last night.
Dad only got a little rowdy a few times, slightly outraged that I was leaving so soon after just arriving.
Mom shot him one strong glare, and that was the last peep I heard out of him the rest of the night.
I guess she wasn’t kidding about knowing how to wrangle him.
Not even Ryleigh had an objection to me moving over to the Lane’s.
He had shared that he’s worried about his best friend.
Even agreed with Mom that it would be good for the both of us, leaving me slightly in shock.
A low chime vibrates the coffee table, and I roll over to grab my phone.
DONOTANSWER: Do you need help bringing over your suitcases?
ME: I thought I told you to lose my number.
I bite my lip, nervously watching the dots ripple back and forth on the screen. What if he doesn’t realize that was meant to be a joke?
DONOTANSWER: I’d already lost enough. I wasn’t about to lose that, too.
My stomach twists. I can almost hear the strain in his voice while my eyes glaze over each sentence.
ME: Help would be appreciated. I may break my back trying to lug these things into Ryleigh’s truck. Can you give me about thirty minutes to get ready?
After I send it, I change his profile name.
EM: Take all the time you need, Trouble.
For the longest time, that nickname has conjured up the memories of that night, no matter what context I heard the word. I had begun to loathe the sound of it. Until now.
Now, all it does is swarm my body with electricity.
Filling me with warmth from the inside out.
I palm the front of my face, slowly dragging it down as I exhale.
Still unsure if I’m making the right decision, I roll off the couch and get dressed.
After making a coffee and forcing myself to eat a muffin, I shoot a text to Emerson.
Here we go.
“Take care of her, Emerson,” Dad says from behind me, his tone deeper than usual. His lips are in a tight line as he stands behind me with his arms crossed over his chest. I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“Hey, take it down a notch! It’s just Em, not some boyfriend I’m bringing home to meet for the first time.
You can cut the protective father act now.
” I pat his chest reassuringly. His dark brows furrow down at me, which only makes a laugh tumble free.
He may tower above me by several inches and put on an intimidating front, but Dad is really nothing but a big ol’ teddy bear.
When he came down the stairs this morning, he shoved a coffee in my hand and insisted on carrying all my luggage out to the driveway.
Emerson shoves the large suitcase into his trunk with a grunt, then heads toward me to grab the demon carry-on.
As he walks by me, his arm brushes against my exposed skin and my breath hitches.
Casually, he leans down and lifts the suitcase into his arms with ease.
Before he heads back to deposit it into the truck bed, he leans in close to my ear. Hovering just inches away.
“Just Em, huh?” The low, gravelly sound of his voice makes my toes curl. I rub my palms over my arms to hide the goosebumps that instantly litter the bare space. He leans back with a smirk, taking the suitcase and the air in my lungs along with him.
Closing the tailgate, Emerson turns to my father and outstretches his hand. Dad raises a brow, his lips slowly tipping up as he reaches out to shake Em’s.
Still gripping Dad’s hand, Em leans in close but still talks loud enough that I can hear. “I promise I’ll look after her, Tripp. She’ll be in good hands over at the Lane’s.”
“You both know I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself, right?” I chuckle, shaking my head at them both as I toss my backpack into the backseat of the truck. Emerson’s lips twitch with mirth as my Dad raises a brow.
“Well, I would believe that a little more if we didn’t have to call you a zillion times just to get you to pick up the phone in New York.”
I wince. Yeah, he does have a point there. “Okay, okay! Fair point. I promise to make sure to ride over here at least twice a week for a visit.”
Dad crosses his arms over his chest. “Three.”
“Two,” I fire back, laughter warming my words. “And I throw in some baking lessons with Lyla each week to sweeten the deal.”
“Deal!” His grin spreads wide as he grabs my dangling hand and shakes it.
“Can I count on you to make sure she holds up her end of the deal?” Dad raises a brow toward Em.
“Absolutely.” He winks at me. “This should be entertaining.”
Dad’s shoulders relax, the small tilt of his lips growing into a full-on grin. “I always knew I liked you.” He pulls Em in for a hug and pats his back before releasing him.
Men. Laughter bubbles out of me as I shake my head and make my way to the passenger side of the truck.
“Don’t think you’re escaping without one of these, too!”
I’m almost halfway in the seat when Dad grabs my arm and pulls me into a bear hug. As he kisses the top of my head, he whispers, “I’m proud of you, baby girl. Just remember I’m always here if you need me.”
Snuggling further into his chest, my heart squeezes tight.
Perhaps fate was right in bringing me back here.
Back home.
The door slams shut, and Emerson starts the truck.
The familiar rumble of the loud engine shakes loose all the old memories.
All the trips we used to take to get ice cream on hot summer days.
The nights he and Ryleigh would pick me up from my study group, and we’d go to the movies.
As well as the one I’ve tried to keep locked down all these years.
The last time I saw him. The night he drove away.
“I was thinking, we should get some breakfast. What do you think?”
Emerson’s deep voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I drift back to find him looking at me expectantly.
“Only if we go to Brooks Brothers,” I smirk.
His eyes are focused on the road, but I see his lips twitch into a faint smile. “I wouldn’t dare go anywhere else.”
We pull up to the familiar brick building where I spent most of my teenage and young adult years while I attended our local college for two years.
The owners, Paul and Robert Brooks, gave me my first waitressing job when I was sixteen.
When they found out that I aspired to be a chef, they let me go in the kitchen and play around with different recipes after hours.
A smile grows on my face, as I remember the day I experimented with soufflé pancakes. I had paired it with a chantilly cream with a boysenberry sauce that made both Brooks brothers almost fall off their stools when they tried it. They even added it to their specials, every Saturday morning.
Something sparked within me that day, and I had started to believe that my dream of becoming a professional chef could come true.
Emerson opened the door, and the bells on top rang its familiar jangle making my lips tilt up. “After you.” He motions, and I walk through. Immediately, I catch sight of the man holding two menus and wearing an exuberant smile.
“Well, if it isn’t two of Oakley Falls’ most famous residents!
” Paul Brooks pulls me into a large hug, squeezing me against his chest. “I heard you were in town a couple of weeks ago, and I was wondering when you were going to stop by and visit us. It’s been a long time, Hen, but it’s so good to see you. ”
“It’s good to see you too, Paul. It’s been way too long.” I smile, and he leads us to the large corner booth. The one that our families would sit in together when we came for breakfast one Saturday a month.
I slide across the light blue vinyl all the way to the back, as Emerson slides around the other side. His arm brushes against mine, and heat immediately stirred in my lower belly. Quickly, I scoot over a few inches, shielding my blush with the menu.
“It’s good to see you too, Emerson.” Paul smiles, then it slowly falls as he says his next words. “My brother and I were so sorry to lose your mother. Autumn was such a wonderful light in our community.”
I glance around my menu and catch Emerson’s expression turn somber, his complexion paling.
Discreetly, I slip my hand under the table and squeeze his thigh.
The moment I touch him, his hands tighten around his menu, as he replies.
“Thank you, Paul. Mama always loved you both and loved seeing your beautiful families grow.”
Paul rocks back and forth on his heels as he speaks. “I heard your Dad was working on getting the ranch up and running. If you all ever need anything at all, we are here for you both. Don’t hesitate at all, we would be happy to help.”
“That’s really generous of you. I’ll make sure to let Dad know.”
“I’ll let you both look at the menu and I’ll get your drinks started. Emerson, coffee black? And Henley, cinnamon latte and a Dr. Pepper, right?”
We both nod. Paul smiles bright, and turns to go make our drinks.
“I forgot how much you liked Dr. Pepper,” Emerson’s lips tilted up ever so slightly.
“And I forgot you liked your coffee void of flavor,” I scrunch my nose feigning disgust.
His smile grows wider as he shifts his leg underneath the table.
Suddenly, I’m all too aware my palm is still latched around his thigh. I whip it back into my lap.
“Uh, y-yeah,” I stumble over my words. “I like it because it’s spicy like cinnamon and sweet like vanilla. Two flavors I’ll never get tired of.”
“Kinda like cinnamon rolls?” He chuckles.
“Old habits die hard I guess,” I shrug, nonchalantly. Even as the one old habit I can’t seem to shake sits beside me.
Paul returns with our drinks and a huge plate of soufflé pancakes, just the way I had made all those years ago.
“Thought you might want a little taste of home,” he winks, and hands us a fork.