Chapter 15
Everything was going unexpectedly.
Luke had been irritated at first about Emmeline’s little prank with his notebook, but it had faded quickly when he’d sensed an opportunity to talk to her. He hadn’t expected her to fully respond with so much honesty, but she had.
Then, she had surprised him again by asking him the same question. Sudden fear had gone through him at the thought of being vulnerable.
The last time he had opened up to her, she had broken his heart, after all.
So after she stalked away, he finished up his work and left, but he hardly made it a few feet onto Elderberry Lane before he was overcome with a tightness in his chest, as if he’d left something vital behind.
Her face had flashed in his mind; she had been hurt when he’d refused to answer her question.
Guilt had pricked at him, so he had turned back to the bookshop to answer her question, to tell her about his mom. He was still afraid she might believe it was a ploy, like he was just pretending to be a good son, but he could deal with that if it happened.
But then he’d heard a crash and her muffled swear. He’d rushed into the office to make sure she was okay and saw her in her underwear.
All coherent thoughts had promptly rushed from his head.
“Well?” she snapped, bringing him back to the fact that she had asked him a question.
While her body language was confident, he saw the way her arms trembled. He remembered she was asking for help to untangle herself.
With some difficulty, Luke found his voice. “Alright,” he agreed. Her dress was bunched over her head and arms.
“Don’t look,” she ordered, being bossy despite the fact that she very much needed his help. “I mean it.”
“Fine, fine.” Obeying, he closed his eyes and began walking forward, moving slowly.
“Where are you?” she asked impatiently, and her voice was very far to the left.
“How am I supposed to help if I can’t look?” he snapped, frustrated in more ways than one.
She scoffed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t undressed a woman before.”
“I assure you, I’ve undressed plenty,” he replied hotly. Irritation ran through him; here she was insulting him while simultaneously asking him for help. Her bedside manner could surely use some work. He swiveled to the left, heading in the direction of her voice.
“Riiiight,” Emmeline replied, drawing out the word. He wished the dress would have covered her mouth entirely so she wouldn’t be able to speak, either.
“The girls I undress are usually not entangled in their own clothes,” he replied, and as he said the words, some of his frustration turned to amusement. His voice softened. “How did you even accomplish this?”
“I don’t know,” she whined, sounding much closer, as if she was right in front of him. “Now hurry up, my arms are getting tired.”
He blindly reached for her, his knuckles brushing against her stomach, and she inhaled a sharp breath. “Ugh, fine, you can look, but don’t ogle,” she warned. “I’ll be able to tell.”
“Don’t worry,” he replied sharply. “I have no desire to.”
His words were a flat-out lie because when he opened his eyes, that was all he wanted to do. Heat zipped down his spine with the intensity of a lightning bolt. He wanted to touch her, but he refrained, holding his hands into tight fists at his side as he took a step toward her.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he glanced over her, looking for the source of all this trouble. The dress was caught from behind.
“Turn around,” he said, voice rough. She did as she was told, and the view from behind was just as torturous as it was from in front. He forced his eyes up.
The lace was caught on the hooks of her bra; the easiest solution would be to undo the bra, but just the idea of that was enough to send his brain short-circuiting.
He looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath before laser-focusing on the tangled fabric and hooks. He brought a careful hand to the dress. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, but he felt hot all over.
“Why were you changing in here, anyway?” he asked, hoping conversation would break some of the tension beating through him, but when he spoke, he was appalled at how rough his voice sounded. He surreptitiously cleared his throat.
“The line for the bathroom was too long,” Emmeline replied, voice quiet. “Why did you come back? For the thermos?”
He paused. A part of him was still smarting from her rejection all those years ago, and his guard had gone up at the thought of being vulnerable with her. It would have been easy to use the thermos as an excuse, but he didn’t want to do that.
The ridiculousness of this situation made it feel less scary.
“No, not for the thermos,” he said, his hands moving slowly on the fabric of her dress. He was careful not to touch the bare skin of her back as he gingerly pulled the fabric from her bra hooks. Just being this close to her made his entire body go haywire.
“Then why?” she asked. “You left.”
His heart pounded. “I wanted to apologize,” he said. “I should have answered your question.”
She was quiet. “Oh,” she eventually said.
“I thought you wouldn’t believe me because you don’t seem to hold a very high opinion of me,” he explained. “But if you ask me again, then I promise I’ll answer.”
She didn’t respond. He had untangled the fabric by then, and he moved his hands to her ribs, slowly turning her around.
“You keep surprising me,” she whispered, facing him now. Her words were filled with awe.
Gathering the fabric of the dress, he pulled it up over her head—until it snagged again.
“Ow!” she cried out. “My clip!”
He winced. “Sorry.”
Gently, he slipped his hand under the dress, moving up until he felt where the clip had gotten tangled in the fabric. He held it in place as she stood still, then used his other hand to pull off her dress.
As he dropped the dress to the ground, she lowered her arms, releasing a breath.
Then, she looked up at him. His hand was still in her hair, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. They were standing inches apart, and he could feel the warmth of her body. His stomach burned. Before he could stop himself, his gaze dropped to her mouth.
He couldn’t remember what they had been talking about. Both of them were quiet, entranced. Until he took another step forward, their knees bumping into one another’s. Her sharp intake of breath filled the hushed space between them. The blood quickened in his veins.
“Em,” he whispered, voice soft as he lifted a hand to cup her face.
She leaned into his touch, brows furrowed. A troubled expression came over her face, as if she was warring with herself, but in the dark depths of her eyes, he saw an undeniable truth: she wanted this.
Perhaps just as badly as he did.
Desire beat through him as she lifted up onto her tiptoes, and he leaned in—
A knock sounded on the door, making them both freeze.
“Everything okay?” It was Ola. “I heard a commotion.”
Reality came crashing down. Emmeline jumped back, and Luke turned around, his face hot. He felt weak in the knees, unsteady.
“I’m fine, thank you!” Emmeline called out as Luke clutched a hand over his chest, willing his heart rate to steady.
It was so easy to forget about everything else when he was around Emmeline.
He couldn’t think straight.