Chapter Thirty-One
EMMA WATCHED THE NUMBER of views, likes, and comments on the Hot Forest Ranger account’s new videos ticking ever higher and higher.
She’d never intended to show these clips to anyone—much less the entire internet. They were too vulnerable and intimate.
No wonder folks on social media couldn’t get enough of them.
She let out a wry laugh.
Hunter didn’t believe she loved him? Didn’t trust that she was willing to go all in?
Would the opinions of a million strangers convince him?
Probably not; goodness knew he didn’t put much stake in what was happening online. But she was willing to try anything.
Turning off her phone, she exhaled deeply. For about the twenty-seventh time, she put her hand in her pocket, feeling for the piece of paper she’d tucked away in there. Then she checked her watch.
It was early evening, and she hadn’t heard from Hunter at all since their fight the previous night.
Already, she missed him. But he’d had work, and she’d been running around, keeping up with the normal, day-to-day running of the shop as well as finalizing preparations for their Harvest Fest booth.
She’d just finished getting everything transported over to the staging area, then had come home to shovel some food in her mouth and take a shower.
And now?
She had a hot forest ranger who needed a stern talking-to.
As she gathered her things and headed for the door, she rehearsed her speech in her head yet again.
She was going to be simple but firm. Tell him in no uncertain terms that she knew her own mind.
She’d show him the videos and dare him to read anything into her expression but hopeless adoration.
She’d let him read the polite but firm message she’d sent to Ji-An.
And then, if none of that worked, she’d pull out her ace in the hole and demonstrate exactly how committed she was to staying here in Heart’s Hope Crossing—for the long haul.
So decided, she hustled down the stairs, pushed open the door to the back lot…
And found Hunter standing there on her doorstep, looking exactly as miserable and repentant as she felt.
Okay, scratch that, he looked gorgeous. Maybe even more so than usual, which just wasn’t fair.
His hair was disheveled—like he’d been running his fingers through it all day.
He was still wearing his work clothes, and there was a smudge of dirt on his face, and—was that a tiny plastic dinosaur sticking out of the front pocket of his flannel shirt?
It didn’t matter.
The dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes, as did the hand he had half-raised toward the doorbell. He let it fall to his side, his brows drawing together.
“Uh.” He blinked a couple of times. “Hi.” Then he glanced around the doorframe. “Is there, like, one of those camera doorbells here or something?”
“No. I was just heading out.”
“Oh, thank God.” He raked his hand through his hair yet again. “The last thing I needed right now was footage of me pacing out here like a creep.”
“No footage, promise.”
That made him pause. Wryly, he asked, “Are you sure?”
Her stomach contracted. Oh, jeez. So he’d already seen the videos. That figured—with how much traction the clips had gotten, it was only a matter of time until someone in Heart’s Hope Crossing spotted them, and after that, they were destined to spread like wildfire.
Was that why he was here? Was he mad? Betrayed?
Flattered?
“I was actually just coming to see you,” she blurted. Whatever his reaction, she’d explain herself and make her grand gesture, and he’d either take it or leave it.
“Guess I saved you the trip, then.” He tipped his head toward the hallway behind her. “Do you mind if I come in?”
Right, because they were just standing here in the open doorway. “Of course.”
She held the door for him, then led the way upstairs. The awkward silence was crushing, and she rethought every part of her carefully crafted plan.
Only once they were safely inside her apartment did she turn to face him, wringing her hands as she did.
“Hunter, I—”
“Stop.”
Under the heavy weight of his stare, she did just that, frozen in place.
One corner of his mouth twitched. “Were you just about to apologize?”
“Probably?” She winced.
“Well, don’t.”
Her stomach did a little flip. “Sorry.”
He rolled his eyes, but it was affectionate in a way that allowed her to dare to hope.
“I saw the videos,” he confirmed.
“I figured.” She dug her nail into her opposite palm. “So what did you think?”
“I think you’re one hell of a videographer.”
“Is that all?”
“The ground is one, too.” He cracked a broader smile this time. “It caught every expression on that beautiful face of yours.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.
Fortunately, he was unaffected by whatever was holding her in place. He took a step toward her. “Tell me what you were thinking when you posted those.”
“I was thinking…” Why was her throat so dry?
Her plan had been to show him the videos and hope he saw what everyone else in the world did.
She swallowed again, but it did no good, and her voice broke.
“I was thinking about what you said, last night. About how I don’t know what I want or how I feel, and I realized—the only way I could really get it through your head was to show it to you. ”
“Me and everyone in the entire world who has a phone.”
Her head was spinning. “Well, yeah. But as it turns out, they all agree with me.”
“Do they?”
She faltered for a second. “Did you not read the comments?”
“I scanned a few of them.”
“Well, then you know.”
He’d kept advancing on her, and at this point, they were barely a foot away from each other. It was too much distance, and also not enough. Her brain was all scrambled by his intoxicating scent and the heat of him, and the sword of Damocles that felt like it was swinging right over her head.
“Know what?” he asked, all rumbly and low.
Her heart felt like it stopped. “How I feel about you.”
“And how is that?”
Was he really going to make her say it first? Hadn’t she been clear enough?
She screwed up her courage, throwing back her shoulders and tilting up her chin.
She was trying to tell him that she knew her own mind here.
She’d grown so much in the past few months.
She possessed a confidence she’d never been able to summon before.
Some of it had come from rebuilding herself in a new place, making new friends, coming into her own professionally and socially.
But so much was because of him.
She opened her mouth, ready to tell him exactly that. But before she could, he advanced the final step toward her and lifted his hand to brush the backs of his knuckles down her cheek. Flashes of warmth shivered across her skin.
Quietly, with a reverence that stole her breath away, he said, “Because the way I feel about you is something I’ve never experienced before. Emma, I—”
“I love you,” she blurted out, and instantly, tears stung the corners of her eyes.
He blinked, his throat bobbing. He cupped her face, and his voice caught on a wobble. “Well, good. Because, Emma Rogers-Li, I love you so damn much I can hardly stand it.”
She lunged at him at the same time he pulled her in. Their mouths crashed together, her heart exploding in her chest. Was this real? How was it even possible?
Who cared?
She kissed him with every ounce of love and need inside her. Everything she gave, he accepted and gave her back twofold.
And that was before she let herself really feel him.
Oh God, he was so hot, the hard planes of his chest so firm and sculpted beneath her hands. She wanted to touch him everywhere, couldn’t get enough no matter how hard she tried.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against her mouth. “Sorry, sorry—”
She pulled away with a gasp. “Thought I was the one who said that too much.”
“They way I acted last night—I was such a jerk.”
Yeah, he kind of had been, but she shook her head. “I blame Jersey.”
He threw his head back with the force of his laugh. “Everything is Jersey’s fault.”
He kissed her again, even deeper this time, his hands skating down her back before grasping her by the hips. She went all molten inside, her skin starving for him, but there was more to say.
“It was partly my fault, too,” she insisted between kisses. “I thought you wanted casual, so I was holding back. Not being clear about what I wanted.”
“It’s okay—”
“It’s not.” She shook her head, drawing away enough to be able to look him in the eye. “You’re the one who helped me understand that.”
Keeping herself hidden away, trying not to make trouble for anyone, refusing to express her true wants and desires… It had seemed like the safer path. As a child, it had been expected, and in her previous relationship, it had somehow become the norm.
But it hadn’t been healthy then, and it wasn’t healthy now. Here, in her relationship with Hunter, it had actively hurt him. He needed to be sure of her. Viral videos of her looking at him like he hung the moon were one thing.
Pulling back farther, she reached into her pocket. She clutched the piece of paper she’d found in her hand and brought it to her chest.
“Yesterday, after you left, I—I talked to Brock.”
Hunter’s eyes immediately narrowed. “What did that asshole have to say to you?”
She laughed and swabbed at her eyes. “Nothing important, he just wanted me to find something for him.”
She’d tell him about the rest of the conversation another time.
About how it felt to finally hear from the man who had deserted her and stolen from her, and to have him act like it was no big deal.
About how it felt to finally get angry about it—but to also finally be ready to do something with that anger.
“I sure hope you told him to go to hell,” Hunter growled.
“Yeah, basically.” She breathed in and exhaled in a gust. “But I also found what he’d been looking for.”
Lines of confusion appeared between Hunter’s brows. “Which was?”
“A crypto wallet.” Because her ex-fiancé was exactly that kind of bro. “I even figured out how to get into it. The jerk had fifty thousand dollars socked away in there.”
“What?”