Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Emerson
As Lane drives us home, I press my face against the glass. Stars dot the night sky. Or is it early morning?
The newest Hennessy couple knows how to party. Fun. Relaxed. Done at a decent time.
What if you could do it again?
The way my heart dropped off a cliff. Do it again? Does he know about the divorce papers getting drawn up? Did he hire a lawyer of his own? Mine would’ve said something, right?
I don’t know. I’ve never done it.
He pulls in his yard and parks beside my dad’s old pickup. My Mercedes hasn’t left his garage since I first got behind the wheel of the truck Lane fixed up for me.
“The sky is beautiful tonight,” I murmur.
“Yeah, it is.” He kills the engine and we’re in the dark. Frogs and crickets serenade us.
“That was a really nice wedding. I know I said it already, but tonight was . . . magical.”
“I enjoyed it more with you.”
“Yeah?” I twist in my seat to face him. “What was different about being with me?”
“I would’ve been helping behind the bar, jumping in to give the caterers a hand, trying to get a dance in with Mae.”
I lean over the console to caress his face. A hint of stubble dusts his jaw. “You want to take care of them all.”
“I do, but that’s not why.” He grips my wrist and tugs gently. I kick my boots off and climb over the center to straddle him. He reclines the seat, then he pushes my hair away and frames my face with his hands. “I think it was because I was there with someone I love.”
A puff of air escapes my lips. Did he really— Did I hear him correctly? I’m imagining all this. A full-body tremor rolls through me.
“I love you, Emerson.”
“Lane.” I grab his head and plant my mouth on his. He said it. And he said it first. The words are a warm blanket on a cold night. They’re a soft bed when I’ve had a long day. They wrap around me, comforting me in a way I’ve tried to do for myself for so long. Lane can do it in three words.
A tattoo couldn’t convince me, but hearing him say that? I’m in.
He brushes his hands up my thighs and under my dress. When he grabs my ass, I grind against him and lick into his mouth. The sweetness of the marble wedding cake lingers on his tongue.
He said he loves me. I want to savor this moment. Commemorate it. I don’t want to worry about tomorrow or the day after. But there’s no worry to push away. Lane has done nothing but make me feel safe and secure. He’s reassured me over and over again. He’s . . . my husband.
I twine my tongue around his, straining against the door and the console to get closer to him. Releasing his head, I dig between us and unzip his pants. Seconds later, his hot erection is in my hand.
He’s trying to lift my skirt, but it’s getting tangled. I have to break the kiss to help drag the fabric out of the way. My ass bumps against the steering wheel as I position myself.
I’m a second away from being filled with him, but I stop.
Tension lines his jaw, and his eyes are dark pools I can get lost in. His hair’s been mussed by my fingers and the top button of his shirt gapes open.
I lower myself enough for the tip of his cock to push inside. I stop. “I love you too.” Just as happiness fills his face, I sink all the way down.
“Fuck. Me.” He rears up and tangles his hands in my hair. “Say it again,” he says on a growl.
“I love you.” I slide up his length and slam back down. He fills me and hits all the right spots. “I love you.” I do it again, rocking up and taking him all again. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
It comes out as a chant.
“I fucking love you.” He rolls his shoulders off the seat and I ride him. “You’re mine. All mine, and that’s how it’ll always be.”
“Yes.” Always. Please.
My thighs clench around him. A long moan rips from me. How can I be so close to an orgasm just from this? But we’re crammed together and he just told me he loves me. The best man I’ve ever known, the one who makes me feel safe and wanted, loves me.
“Mine,” he says, kissing my neck and nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth.
“Yours.” I increase my pace. Desire keeps building, like a flame that’s getting too much fuel. Energy is growing with nowhere to go. My heart is three times its size, and excitement crowds around it.
I’m in love with my husband and he loves me.
“Lane!” A lightning flash of ecstasy courses through me. Then another. And another, until I’m riding a storm of the purest emotion I’ve ever felt.
Lane’s hands are around me, holding me to him. He’s coming inside me and we’re doing this together.
“I love you,” he whispers. “Ever since I first saw you.”
I collapse against him, like it’s too much. It’s too good. What goes up must come down. But he’s here. Catching me.
Lane
I wake up to a long leg twined around mine. I nuzzle Emerson’s hair. “Morning, Mrs. Foster.” My voice sounds like I chewed rocks. There was a lot of talking and dancing last night.
Then the most amazing experience in my pickup. I’ll never sell that thing. Ever.
She stretches and pushes her ass against me. My morning wood wakes up more, but not now. This moment is too nice. I’m holding my wife, and for once I’m not worried she’s going to pull the pin on this marriage.
She snuggles into the bedding. “I hear the Mrs. Foster club is a good one to belong to.”
“It is. Mrs. Fosters also get breakfast in bed.”
“No.” She pats my hands and rolls to the end of the bed. “I have to get somewhere today.”
Curious, I prop myself on my elbow. “Where?”
“Nye.” When she stands, her tits are perky and the nipples are hard. My mouth waters.
“Why there?” It’s not a long drive, but a beautiful one.
Emerson grabs her phone and taps away at the screen. “Prescott told me that she went there for a quick shoot.”
“You want to rescue another animal?” I smile. If she’s planning more rescues, then that means she’s planning to stay.
“She says she’s already getting calls for sponsorship by a company that makes poultry supplements.” She hands me the phone. A video’s playing from one of Prescott’s accounts. A dark turkey with a blue head and a deep red waddle struts around.
Laughing, I hand the phone back. “You really are getting turkeys?”
“There are two, and they were kept as pets, but the owner died. His son does not want turkeys, but he’s also picky about who gets them.”
“Let me clean up and I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Yep, but it can wait, and we’ll get back before the tasting room opens.”
She twists her fingers together. “You don’t mind? I figured I’d at least go and see if they really are tame. I don’t want mean turkeys around Hillary, and she’s going to be all over them.”
“I’m your tom.”
She grimaces. “Not as fun as the cock jokes. Not sure how it’ll look on a pillow.”
“Get stuffed?”
She dissolves into laughter. “That’s a little morbid.” She starts for my bathroom. My gaze is plastered to her ass when she shoots a flirty look over her shoulder. “Want to get breakfast ready?”
My dick twitches. “Can it be you?”
“Not if we’re going to get you back in time.” She wiggles her butt and disappears into the bathroom.
Grinning, I roll up, grab some clean clothes, and run through the guest bathroom. If I see a wet Emerson, I’ll make us both late. While I’m digging out ingredients for pancakes and eggs, there’s a knock on the door.
I might live out of town, but I lock my doors. Ditching my ingredients, I answer the door to Brooks. Hillary’s behind him, letting the chickens out.
“Thank you,” I call to her. “Add it to our tab.”
She squints back at me as the chickens run past her to freedom. “What’s a tab?”
Brooks sucks his lips against his teeth. “Fuck, it makes you feel old, doesn’t it?”
“More than a little bit.” I step back. “Come on in. You two eat yet?”
“No, I want to talk to Emerson before she leaves for Nye.” He enters and diligently wipes his boots on the entry mat. “She just texted me.”
“Have a seat at the table.” I follow him into the kitchen. “I wanted to talk to you anyway. Have you thought more about driving for us?”
He nods. “Yeah, if you still need a driver.”
“Cruz worked out some deals for delivery. It’s part-time, and it won’t take you more than three hours from here in any direction. Every once in a while, there’ll be a longer trip, and of course, our winters might strand you somewhere.”
“As long as I can make arrangements for Hillary.”
Emerson enters the dining room. “I’ll help as much as I can.”
Brooks shakes his head. “You’re going to be in Denver by next week.”
Emerson aims an almost shy look my way. “Maybe not.”
Fuck yes. I’m damn near euphoric. If she’s telling her brother that, then she wasn’t floating on a high last night, saying things she didn’t mean. Because I sure as hell meant every word.
“You two a thing?” he asks, surprised.
“We’ve always been a thing.” I measure the pancake mix, trying to act casual. “I think she’s finally figured it out.”
She rolls her eyes and joins me in the kitchen. “So the house closing is still on?”
“Next Tuesday,” Brooks says. “I’ll bring Hillary, and we’ll be back Wednesday.”
“Then we can do our deal Thursday.” Emerson nudges me. “Do I just let Zack know?”
“Yeah, he’ll have some papers for us to fill out, and he might need to be there for the handoff. I’ll call him Monday.”
She cracks two eggs. “Is that enough time? It doesn’t take weeks?”
“Not when you’re paying them enough.”
The corner of her mouth tips up. “Oh, that must be why—” Alarm flares in her eyes and she concentrates on the batter.
“Why what?”
“Just stuff for work,” she says quickly and grabs a spoon. “I get the runaround sometimes, or I’m told that it’ll be a few weeks.”
She’s not telling me something, but if I push it, she’ll shut down more. Telling her I loved her didn’t erase her past. I can be patient.
“If you ever need help, I know a guy,” I say.
Relief crosses her face. “Are you sure that guy isn’t busy?”
I give her a quick kiss. When I shift to the stove, Brooks is rubbing the back of his neck. Is this awkward for him?
Hillary comes around the corner and heads straight to the bathroom to wash her hands. When she comes back out, she plops on a seat next to her dad.
“Do you want to sign everything here?” I ask Brooks. “Or go into Zack’s office?”
“Can we do it at our place, Daddy?” Hillary rests her toes on the floor and grips the side of her chair, oblivious to how Emerson stiffens next to me.
Brooks didn’t miss it. “Hill, we should—”
“It’s fine.” Emerson nods once. “I have my facts. They came in handy the other day. I’ll sit at the kitchen table and sign.”
She lifts her eyes to me, and I hold her gaze. I’ll be with her every step of the way.
Pride radiates across Hillary’s face for her aunt. It’ll be a big day for Emerson. She’ll face a big part of her past, and then she’ll turn to the future.
She and I will be married for no other reason than we want to stay that way. Once those papers are signed, we’ll be true husband and wife, and we’ll stay that way as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce.