Chapter 70 – Emerson #2
“This is just insurance to make sure you’re true to your word.”
“My word?”
“That you’re not running. So see?” He holds our hands up. “Now you can’t.”
I try to yank my hand away and am met with the bite of cold steel. The smirk he gives me and the feel of the metal is fuel to my temper. “The harder you fight against me, the closer I’m going to pull you.”
“Let me go.” Doesn’t he know he’s won?
He takes a step into me so his face is inches from mine, and as angry as I am at him, all I see are his lips.
All I can think about is losing him. “This isn’t how a relationship works, Emerson.
You don’t get to decide for yourself anymore.
You talk to me. We discuss. Sometimes we fight.
But in the end, we decide—together. Simple as that. ”
“And you think kidnapping me is the right way to go about that?” Despite the bite of pain I know it will cause, I yank my hand again, but this time it’s more for show than out of anger.
The look in his eyes and the determination in his words .
. . how could a sane girl walk away from a man that resolute in his love for her?
“No, but apparently, it’s the only way when it comes to reasoning with you.
” He quirks an eyebrow. “Do you think it’ll be weird brushing our teeth like this?
Or how about going to the bathroom. That might cause some problems.” He chuckles and walks over to the couch without telling me so I’m forced to trail behind as he sits and puts his feet on the coffee table.
“I could get used to this, couldn’t you?
” Then he gets back up and walks to the windows overlooking the backside of the airstrip, forcing me to follow again.
He turns one way to pull me and then back the other way.
“You’re infuriating, you know that?” I say, trying to stand my ground when I’m not really sure what we are fighting about anymore. “We’re talking about the same thing here.”
“No. We’re not. You’re talking about going, and I’m talking about you staying. That’s as different as night and day.”
“It would be temporary.”
“I don’t do temporary. See?” he says, lifting our hands again. “I like sure things.”
“I am not running,” I grit out. “I didn’t want this.
I didn’t want to lose the loan and have to leave.
I wanted roots for the first time in forever.
I want you damn it. That’s all I really want.
You and my jump school. That’s it. So, stop turning this on me.
Stop acting as if this is all about me. I love you, and as much as that scares the shit out of me, not having you terrifies me even more.
You win. Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll stay.
” I heave in a huge breath because I used it all.
When I look at him, he’s blurry because tears are in my eyes, and I don’t care.
This . . . he and I . . . is what matters.
But his fingers on his handcuffed hand link with mine. He stares at me, eyes blinking, a ghost of a smile on his lips and relief easing the lines etching his features.
“It’s about time,” he whispers.
“What?” My head spins from the mental whiplash.
“I don’t need convincing about how you feel about me, Em.
Hell, I don’t even need the words. I already knew.
I just needed you to know. I needed you to admit it.
I needed you to believe it. You’re the most honest when your back is against the wall .
. . so, I pushed your shoulders some to get it there. ”
“You maneuvered me.”
“I believe the correct term is positioning,” he says as his smile inches up a bit more. I want to be indignant that he can read me so well, that he knows me so well. And then I realize that I told him I loved him. He sees it the minute it hits me and reaches out to pull me against him.
“It’s okay to need me, Em. It’s okay to love me.
God knows I think I’ve been in love with you since we were six years old.
You’re maddening and frustrating and stubborn and the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced, but seeing you is the best part of my day and where you are is the only place I want to spend my nights.
Losing the loan was a curve in the road we didn’t see coming.
But you like to speed, so we can ride this out.
We adjust the wheel and take the curve. We talk, and then we work together to create another dream for you to chase.
” He leans forward and presses his lips to mine in a kiss to rival all kisses that I feel all the way out to the tips of my toes and back.
“Two hours is too far away from me when we have twenty years to make up for . . . so, please trust me when I say we can make this work. Trust me when I tell you that making this work might be the hardest thing we ever do, but the payoff will be worth it and then some.”
I’m rendered speechless. I open my mouth to speak but know words won’t do any justice. So, instead, I press my lips against his.
“I love you.”
God, it feels good to say it.
To know it.
To know it’s returned and then some.
Grant Malone loves me.
We stand like this for a few minutes before there’s a honk of a horn somewhere outside that interrupts our moment.