Chapter 39
JOELLE
We are heading back to Quebec to have Christmas with Mom. I'm so excited, but also sad that I won't get to see Emmett for the next couple of days. He's off to Wisconsin with Sully, apparently, their families all have Christmas together, which is sweet.
My phone buzzes.
Emmett: Packed yet?
Joelle: Almost. You?
Emmett: Yeah. Come over before you leave? I have something for you.
Joelle: Is that code word for your dick?
Emmett: Maybe.
Joelle: Be there in ten.
I finish packing, zip up my suitcase, and check the time.
We don't leave for the airport for another two hours.
Plenty of time to see my man before I go and give him my Christmas present.
Which isn't my vagina. I made him something, and I hope he likes it.
I grab the wrapped package from my dresser and head down the hall to Emmett's apartment.
I knock and he opens the door immediately.
"Hey." He pulls me in and gives me a kiss. His hand slides to the small of my back, holding me against him for a moment longer than necessary.
"I'm going to miss you," he says against my lips.
"Me too." I've been enjoying sneaking around, especially when we are home and not travelling.
It's a little harder when we are away to get time together without being seen.
Because I'll be having Christmas with my brothers, we agreed to only message each other at night before bed.
All it takes is a message to come through at the wrong time to blow our cover.
He takes my hand and leads me to the couch. "Sit. I have something for you."
"Should I be worried?" I chuckle.
"Never."
He disappears into his bedroom, and I set my wrapped package on the coffee table.
My heart is already racing. What did he get me?
We didn't discuss presents. I wasn't sure if we were at that stage yet, which is why I made him something instead of buying anything too extravagant.
He returns with a small wrapped box. My heart accelerates even more. What is this?
"Merry Christmas," he says, presenting me with the box.
It's heavy, wrapped in silver paper, and tied with a red bow. I take it from him, our fingers brushing. "Can I open it now?"
He nods, sitting down beside me, his thigh pressed against mine.
I carefully unwrap it, peeling back the silver paper.
Inside is a velvet jewelry box. I glance at him, his expression is soft, nervous almost. I've never seen Emmett Black nervous.
I open the box. Inside is a silver charm bracelet with six charms already attached.
"Emmett ..." It's beautiful. The kind of thing I'd never buy for myself but always wanted.
"Let me show you. It has a story." He takes it from the box and holds it up so I can see each charm.
His thumb brushes over the first one. "This one is for London, where we met.
" He points to the tiny double-decker bus.
My throat tightens. "This hockey puck is me.
" He moves to the next charm. "The band-aid is for you taking care of me, even when I'm being stubborn.
" Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back, but they keep coming.
"This red heart is because you have mine. Completely."
I gasp. "Emmett ..."
He smiles and keeps going, his voice soft. "This phone is for all our late-night texts. The conversations that kept me sane when I couldn't be with you.”
I'm crying now. Full tears streaming down my cheeks.
"And this snowflake is for our first Christmas. Even though we're apart."
Oh, my goodness. This is the most heartfelt present I've ever received. No one has ever put this much thought into something for me. No one has ever seen me the way he does. He takes my wrist gently, his fingers warm against my skin, and clasps the bracelet around it. The charms catch the light.
"I'm going to keep adding to it," he says softly. "Every moment. Every milestone. Until it's full of us." He runs his thumb over the charms, then looks up at me. "It's the only way we can publicly be together, until summer."
I can't speak, I can only stare at this beautiful bracelet, at the thought he put into every single charm. At this man who sees me. Who wants a future with me.
"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice uncertain.
"Like it? Emmett, I love it. It's perfect.” I throw my arms around him, tears falling down my cheeks as I pepper his face with kisses.
His cheeks. His forehead. His nose. His jaw.
He laughs, pulling me closer. "Thank you," I manage between kisses.
"This is the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me. "
"Good." He catches my face in his hands, wiping my tears with his thumbs. "Because I have plans for this bracelet."
"Plans?"
"Lots of charms. Lots of memories. Our whole story on your wrist."
My heart is so full it might burst. "I have something for you, too." I pull away reluctantly and grab the wrapped package from the coffee table. "It's not as amazing as this, but ..."
He takes it carefully, his expression curious. He opens it slowly, his face softening when he sees what it is. "You made this?"
"It's all my favorite recipes. The ones we can cook together."
He flips through the pages, reading my notes, the little comments I wrote beside each one. His fingers trace my handwriting. Every recipe has a memory attached. A piece of me. He looks up at me, his eyes bright. "Jo, this is incredible."
"I wanted you to have something of mine. Something that shows I'm thinking about our future. Us together."
"We will be. I promise." He sets the book down carefully on the coffee table and pulls me onto his lap, just holding me. I rest my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
"This is real, right?" I whisper.
"So real."
"Good. Because I don't want to lose this feeling I have with you."
"Me either."
We sit like that, just holding each other, enjoying the moment. One that changes things between us. Deepens them. Makes everything feel more permanent.
"I should go," I finally say. "Need to finish getting ready."
"I know." But he doesn't let me go. His arms tighten around me.
"Emmett ..."
"One more minute."
I smile against his chest. "One more minute."
We stay like that until the minute stretches into two, then three. Finally, I pull back. "Text me when you land in Wisconsin?"
"Of course. You text me when you land in Quebec."
"Deal.”
One more kiss. It's long and deep and full of everything we can't say yet. His hand tangles in my hair. Mine fists his shirt. When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Go," he says. "Before I lock you in here and don't let you leave."
"Tempting." I force myself off his lap, grab my stuff, and head for the door. I look back at him one more time. He's watching me, that soft look still on his face.
"Merry Christmas, Captain."
"Merry Christmas, Trouble."
Then I'm heading back to my apartment, the bracelet on my wrist catching the light with every step. My heart is overflowing.
Collette is in the kitchen when I walk in. She looks up from her coffee, and I burst into tears. "What is going on?" She sets her mug down, alarmed.
"Look what he bought me." I wave the bracelet in her face, barely coherent.
She takes my wrist gently, examining it. "It's beautiful."
"It's us," I tell her, explaining all the charms through my tears. The bus. The puck. The band-aid. The heart. The phone. The snowflake. "Each one means something."
"That is so sweet." She pulls me into a hug.
"Isn't it?"
"You've fallen for him, haven't you?"
I nod against her shoulder. There's no point denying it anymore. Not to Collette. She's seen everything. She knows.
"Hard," I admit.
She squeezes me tighter. "I'm happy for you, Jo. He's a good one."
"He is."
She pulls back, holding me at arm's length. "Now stop crying. You're going to ruin your makeup, and we have a flight to catch. And I don’t think you are going to want to explain to Pierre why you are crying.” I laugh, wiping my eyes. "Exactly. Get your shit together."
I head to the bathroom to fix my face. In the mirror, I catch the bracelet glinting on my wrist. Six charms. Six pieces of us.
And he wants to add more.
We're at the private airport lounge waiting to board the plane. Issy and Pierre are curled up together like two lovebirds.
Collette gets up from her seat. "Water?"
"Please."
She heads to the refreshment area, and her phone buzzes on the seat beside me. I glance down automatically and still.
Fish: We need to talk about what happened.
My eyes widen. No. What the ...?
"Here you go." She returns, handing me the bottle of water.
"You got a message," I tell her, keeping my voice neutral.
"Did I?" She picks up the phone, and her face goes a little pale. Her jaw tightens.
"What's that all about?" I raise a brow at her as I take a sip of my water.
"Nothing. Please," she tells me, but her fingers are already flying across the screen. Typing. Deleting. Typing again.
"I'm here if you need me," I say quietly. "Just like you were for me."
"I know." She doesn't look up, just keeps typing furiously.
I watch her for a moment. She’s always so put together. Always so in control. But right now, she looks rattled, unsettled in a way I've never seen before.
“Is he your walk of shame?”
Collette sighs. “Yes.”
“Say no more. I will never mention it again.”
“Thank you.” She sounds relieved.