Chapter 25
Luke waited as Emmeline continued to chat with Saphira, who seemed to be trying to make plans with her for her birthday.
“Okay, I have to go now, but I’ll see you tomorrow, then, okay?” she said. “Love you, bye.”
She walked back over to Luke, but it was only a few steps. “Sorry about that,” she said.
“No worries,” he replied. “It’s your birthday tomorrow? Sorry to eavesdrop.”
She got a little shy, then. “Yes, it is,” she replied.
“You should have said! It’s a big one.” Her thirtieth!
She waved a hand, and he narrowed his eyes. He could see that she went out of the way for others, but when it came to herself, she seemed to do the opposite. It was so weird.
He had already wanted their date to be great, but now he was even more determined for it to be wonderful. He would stay with her until midnight, so he could be the first one to wish her happy birthday.
She covered her face with her hands. “The older you get, the faster time moves,” she said. “When you’re ten years old, a year is ten percent of your life, but when you’re thirty, it’s only three percent. That’s scary, isn’t it?”
“It’s not scary, it’s exciting,” he said, and he led her down the path around the lake. “Besides, you have so much to be proud of. And growing older is such a privilege.” He thought about his mother. He didn’t know how many years she had left, but he was thankful for the time he had had with her.
Emmeline considered that. “I’ve never thought about it that way,” she said. “My cousin Danny and I were the same age; every year I get older, he doesn’t. He’ll always stay twenty-five. It’s . . .” She trailed off, struggling to find a word, but there was no word for it.
“Were you two really close?” he asked. She nodded.
“My other cousins are much older, and in our age group, Aiden was really quiet and withdrawn,” she said. “Danny was always so hyper and fun. He, Millie, and I were a trio at family dinner.”
“Where’s Millie now?” he asked. He had been cautious about asking too much about her before, in case it made Emmeline upset, but she seemed to have moved on from all of that.
“She got married right after college and moved down south,” she explained. “Her husband, Liam, is actually the farmer who provides the coffee beans for Inferno.”
“Oh, wow,” he replied. “That’s great.”
“Mhm.” Her eyes looked a little sad, and he understood.
“You must miss her.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “I get to see her, but it never feels enough,” she said. “Not the way it used to be.” There was yearning on her face, as if she ached for a bygone era, but then her expression warmed as she remembered something. “Let me show you my nieces and nephew.”
She took out her phone, pulling up pictures of some of the cutest kids he had ever seen. They were clearly her nieces and nephew.
“They look just like you,” he said, and it was definitely the best compliment he could have given because she smiled widely.
“I am obsessed with them,” she said, scrolling through what must have been at least a hundred photos, and they all looked to be from this month. The children were certainly very cute, and they were obviously obsessed with her.
“I’m sure you’re a great khala,” he said. She beamed. “And I’m sure you’re going to be an even better mom someday.”
She looked a little emotional at his words. “I hope so,” she whispered, putting her phone away.
Their shoulders bumped as they continued walking. “You and Farhan are close, too,” she said—not a question but a statement.
“Yeah, luckily,” he replied. “He can be annoying, but I love him to bits.” She smiled. “Don’t tell him that—he’s already got a big head.”
She laughed, and they continued talking, walking slowly. Eventually, they made it back along the path to where they had started.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I had planned for us to get dinner at a local spot, but since it’s your birthday, we need to do something special.”
“Oh, we don’t have to,” she said, cringing. He furrowed his brows, putting a finger to his lips.
“Don’t argue,” he said. “Answer the question.” Her eyes widened a little at his bossy tone, but she didn’t seem to mind it.
“Yes, I am hungry,” she said.
“Good.” He nodded. “I’ll make you dinner.”
Her mouth almost dropped open. “You can cook?”
“Don’t act so surprised,” he replied, and she shook her head.
“No, it’s just that my brothers are useless in the kitchen, so I’m always surprised when men can cook,” she explained. “Though I shouldn’t be, since Aiden is great at it.”
“Hopefully, you’ll think I’m great at it, too,” he said, “or dinner will be special in an entirely different way . . .”
She laughed. “I’m sure I will.” Then, she called Torch, who appeared a few moments later. He pulled out his whistle to call Sharptooth when Emmeline seemed to get an idea. “Do you want to ride with me?”
“Oh.” Torch looked at him curiously, and he looked between the dragon and Emmeline. “I’ve never been on a dragon before, but you know, I’ve always secretly wanted to,” he admitted. She seemed pleased by that.
“Come on,” she said, mounting. He looked up at her on Torch. Dragons were much bigger than chimeras, which was why they could carry more weight.
He climbed on, settling in behind Emmeline. She leaned back into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, both of them aligned perfectly.
“Ready?” she asked, and he nodded over her shoulder.
They took off, and his heart lurched. Dragons were faster than chimeras, and his grip on Emmeline tightened. He heard the sound of her laugh, then it was lost in the wind as they zipped through the air.
Cold wind blew against his face, sharp as ice, but Torch was a furnace underneath them, keeping them warm. It took a moment for him to get used to it, but once he did, he grinned, feeling euphoric.
“This is incredible!” he told her, and she squeezed his hand on her waist.
They made it to his place, dismounting. He went and touched Torch’s face. “Thank you,” he told the dragon. Torch nudged against his hand, pleased. Emmeline beamed, then told Torch to go home, and the dragon took off.
Luke led Emmeline to the front door, unlocking it and taking her inside, where he turned on the lights. The house was quiet.
Emmeline looked around. “Is your mom asleep?” she asked. “I wanted to say hi.”
“She’s not home, actually,” he said. “My parents went away for the weekend.”
She nodded. “It’s sweet you stayed home to take care of her,” she said. “I know it’s probably not the easiest thing in the world not to have your own place.”
“Sometimes,” he agreed. “But I’m just glad to spend as much time with her as I can.”
They took off their shoes and he hung up their coats. Underneath, she was wearing an off-the-shoulder sweater dress that fitted down to her waist, then flared out. With her hair tossed behind her shoulders, every inch of her throat and collar were exposed, tantalizingly kissable.
He wanted to press his lips everywhere, to taste her skin. Desire burned through him at the thought, and he cleared his throat, heading for the kitchen.
She followed behind him, then went directly to the fridge. Before he could ask what she was doing, she opened the door, inspecting the contents.
“So what are we making?” she asked, searching for ingredients.
He gave her a funny look. “We are not making anything,” he said, taking her hands off the fridge door. He led her to one of the island chairs. “Sit.”
“I can help,” she protested, still standing.
“I know you can, but I said I would be making you dinner,” he replied.
She frowned. “But I can help.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, reveling in the soft feel of her skin. He tried to get her to sit, but she didn’t budge.
He narrowed his eyes. “Emmeline,” he said, tone warning.
“But—” she started with a pout.
He put his index finger to his lips. “Sh.” She opened her mouth again, but he gave her a stern glance, and she stopped fussing. “Sit.”
She sat down.
“I know this feels weird, but I want to,” he said. “Let me.”
She blinked. “Okay.” He could see she was thinking, and then she released a long breath, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, hiding her face behind her hands.
“You’re trying to be nice and I’m being a control freak.
It’s just that no one’s ever helped me .
. .” She broke off, feeling shy. “I know most of that is because I never let anyone. I’m just not used to .
. . I don’t know what I’m trying to say. ”
Still, he understood.
“You’re not exactly letting me, either,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. He gave her a crooked grin. “Fortunately or unfortunately, I’m just as stubborn as you are.”
Her lips twitched as she got comfortable in her chair. “I wouldn’t take it that far—I’m still more stubborn.”
He laughed. “Always has to be a competition with you, huh?”
“Yes,” she replied with a bright smile, amused.
The truth was, he didn’t mind. Not anymore. He’d gladly let her win as long as she was smiling.
It made him think of the coffee shop proposal, Anh’s investment. He would try his best, but he realized at that moment that if he didn’t win, it would surely be tough, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. And a part of him would be happy that Emmeline had won.
But he didn’t want to think about that right now.
Instead, he pulled out the ingredients to make pizza. “Sorry,” he said. “If I had known, I would have planned something fancier.”
“I love pizza.” She put her elbows up on the island, resting her face in her hands as she watched him.
“Good,” he said. It was quick and easy and always hit the spot.
“I would have a go at tossing the dough in the air to try and impress you, but I’m afraid I’d only embarrass myself instead,” he told her.
She laughed. “I can never toss dough either,” she said. “My nails always get caught.”
She showed him her hands with her long nails, and he wanted to kiss her fingertips, to feel her fingers in his mouth.
Every moment felt like the prelude to a hundred other moments, as if the scene could play out in so many different ways, and he was keen to live each one.
It felt like a present that held the promise of a future.
For now, he focused on feeding her, getting to work on the pizza dough, then letting it rest. Emmeline ambled over, sitting up on the counter beside his workspace.
As the dough rested, he made a quick tomato sauce, and when the dough was ready, he assembled the pizzas.
Once they were set on the pizza peel, she hopped off the counter.
“Should I preheat the oven?” she asked. He shook his head, smiling. This was part of the reason he wanted to make pizza.
“Nope.” He grabbed the peel, then headed for the backdoor, slipping on some outdoor shoes. She slipped on the pair beside his and followed him outside, where he showed her the oven next to the barn.
“Um?” She looked confused. “Where does it turn on?”
He grinned at her.
“Sharptooth!” he called, and the chimera came out from the barn. When she saw Luke by the oven, she came over to the back, where Luke propped open the door.
Then, Luke took Emmeline’s hand, stepping to the side. Once they were a safe distance away, Sharptooth fired into the oven, the heat of his flames cooking the pizza.
Emmeline’s face brightened with delight, precisely the reaction he was hoping for. “That’s so smart!” she said. “I love it.”
Once the pizzas were ready, he took them inside, where they sat together and ate.
“Mmm, this is delicious,” she said, digging into her pizza. It was perfectly gooey with a crunchy crust.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replied.
They ate and talked for a long time, yet it didn’t feel like enough. They had a lifetime’s worth of memories and opinions and stories to share with one another, hopes and fears and everything in between.
They finished off the pizzas and baked cookies, which he let her take charge of, and when those were done, they moved from the dining table to the couch, sharing a blanket and getting comfortable.
He kept an eye on the clock, waiting, and whenever she got up to leave, he asked her another question, and she sat down again, the conversation starting down a new path.
Then, when it was almost time, she said, “I really should go, now.”
He stood up, catching her hand to stop her. “Just a little longer,” he asked, and she smiled.
“Thank you for a lovely night,” she said. “Really.”
“It’s not over yet,” he said. He glanced over at the clock just as it struck twelve, and he smiled. Bridging the space between them, he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Happy birthday, Em.”
Her face lit up with surprise. She turned to look at the clock, noticing the time. “So that’s why you were stalling me,” she said, as if she had cracked the code.
He shrugged. “I wanted to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday,” he said. “I hope this is your best year yet.”
“I hope so, too,” she said, voice soft.
Gently, he cupped her face in his hands. Everything else faded away. It was just the two of them. His heart pounded, his blood quickening in his veins like a river rushing towards a waterfall.
Her hands fell to his waist, holding him, and she closed her eyes. At long last, he brought her mouth to his, kissing her. It was a soft brush of his lips against her, achingly sweet.
His body hummed with desire, aching for more, but he pulled back, and she opened her eyes, gazing up into his.
“You won’t break my heart, will you?” he asked, voice a whisper.
She smiled. “I can’t make any promises.”
He didn’t care. He pulled her in for another kiss.