by Olivia Miles
The suitcases were still open, still prepped and ready to go.
She sat down on the bed, telling herself not to think about that now.
Scott sat next to her, close enough for their legs to touch, and stared pensively out the window. “Growing up, I always thought my father was this unbreakable force. It’s not easy to see him like this.”
“I can’t imagine it would be. It’s good you were able to come home and see him again.”
“My father and I haven’t spoken in twelve years,” Scott said, his eyes still fixed in the distance. Emily could see his jaw twitching in his profile. “Lucy’s mad at me. She thinks I should be the bigger person.”
“She’s just in pain,” Emily said. “She just wants her family to get along, for all of you to be happy.”
Scott’s brow furrowed. “My father and I...I can’t be sure we’ll be able to make peace before it’s too late.”
Emily closed her eyes as her chest tightened. “You know the day my father died, he asked me to give him a kiss before he left for work, and I refused because I was angry at him for not letting me eat a piece of candy for breakfast.”
Scott pulled a face. “You were just a kid. You can’t take that seriously.”
Emily felt the same pang of remorse she felt every time she thought of that morning. “It was all I could think about for months. For a while I wondered if I would have felt better if the last thing I said to him was ‘I love you’ instead of...” Tears prickled her eyes and she stopped talking.
“Do you think it would have been easier?”
“No.” Emily stared at her lap. “I think we all do things we aren’t proud of in life at some point or another. I can’t go back and change the exchange I had with my dad that morning, but I can change the way I think about him. He wouldn’t want me to live with that guilt. He’d want me to focus on everything else we shared. He’d want me to live my life to the fullest.”
He’d want her to go that culinary school. She could almost see his face now when she told him the news. That broad, ear to ear grin. The pride flashing in his eyes. “That’s my girl!” he’d say.
Her heart swelled until she thought it might burst. God, she missed him.
“There are a lot of things I’ve done that I’m not proud of, Emily.”
She turned to meet Scott’s heated gaze, sensing the shift in conversation. None of it mattered now. If tonight had reminded them of anything, it was that life was too short to be spent dwelling on the past.
“I know,” she said, sliding her hand onto his lap to hold his hand. She squeezed his fingers as her eyes searched his face. “It’s okay,” she murmured softly, leaning in to graze his lips.
His tongue laced with hers, exploring her mouth with growing hunger, and she gasped at the strength of his desire as his mouth claimed hers with more greed, his hand quickly breaking her grip to slide to her waist. He pulled her close, gasping as their tongues continued their dance, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. She wanted to comfort him, but she needed to be comforted, too. She didn’t know why, but somehow being touched and needed by the one person who had hurt her so much was all she needed to feel that life could go on, and that no pain lasted forever.
Gently, he pushed her back onto the bed, and she inhaled as the weight of his body pressed against hers. She ran her fingers down the length of his chest until she found his waistband and then she tugged his shirt free, tracing her fingertips ever so lightly up the smooth width of his back. His kisses became frantic, incessant in their desire, and she dragged her fingers harder down his back, clinging to him as warmth pooled in her belly.
Tearing his mouth from hers, Scott grazed his lips down her neck in tiny kisses that sent a shiver down her spine. She quivered at the lightness of his touch, the intimacy of this moment, and when her body shook he pulled her closer.
Emily gazed into his deep blue eyes, feeling more connection to him in this moment than anyone else. She held her breath as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, and her back arched as he loosened her lace bra and met her breast with his mouth. She stifled a cry as his tongue flicked the soft flesh which budded under his touch. The feeling of his mouth on her skin and his hands on her flesh made her long for his touch all the more. She pulled his shirt over his head and then rested back against the bed, taking his bare chest in her arms, caressing his cool skin until it warmed beneath her palms.
His hands circled her abdomen and then unbuttoned her jeans. She shimmied out, freeing herself of the material that served as a barrier between their two bodies, and anticipation built as he discarded his own pants. His fingertips skimmed the line of her panties as she leaned into him, molding her flesh to his, aching to become one. She gasped as he slowly, carefully, pulled the thin material free, sliding it down her thighs with one hand as his mouth once again met hers.
Pulling himself free, he discarded his boxers and sheathed himself with a condom from his wallet. Just like high school, Emily thought with a nervous giggle. Only there wasn’t anything like high school about this.
She opened her legs to him as he hovered above her, caressing the hard plane of his chest with her fingers. He locked her eyes before closing them on a kiss, stifling her moan as he entered her. She held him close, raking her hands through his hair, clutching the length of his back as he pushed deeper, the weight of his body on hers making it impossible to know where her body ended and his began. She inhaled his scent and the heat from his body, and she held him as his body shook on release.
They lay in each other’s arms until their breathing had steadied, their bodies cooled. “Stay the night with me,” Scott murmured, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. “Stay every night with me.”
Shock slammed into her. “What?” she whispered. She waited as her pulse hammered. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell evenly.
She watched him sleep long into the night, finally closing her own eyes just as the first hint of morning filled the room. For so many years she had lived in a dream world, imaging what-ifs, imagining something different, better. Even sleep couldn’t spare her now. Reality had come knocking, and now she had to decide what to do about it.
Chapter Ten
Emily tiptoed down the hall when dawn broke. As much as she would have loved to have remained tangled in the sheets, feeling the heavy rise and fall of Scott’s chest against her back, she had to get ready for work, and she preferred to slip back into the apartment unnoticed. She enjoyed living with her sister, but there were some times when she longed for a little more privacy, and today was one of those times. She supposed if she ended up in Boston, she wouldn’t have to worry anymore about Julia commenting on her whereabouts.
Her hand froze on the doorknob of her apartment as realization took hold. The letter from the culinary school. Was she even still considering it after last night? And Lucy—how could she leave Lucy in such a lurch when her father was in the hospital? As it was, Lucy was already scrambling to run both Sweetie Pie and the diner, even with George’s help. How many times a day did Lucy express her appreciation, or mutter how she would be lost without Emily?
A queasiness coated Emily’s stomach as she turned the handle. The apartment was thankfully still, and seeing that it was only six, Emily could only assume that Julia was still asleep. She hedged toward her bedroom, eager to seek haven behind the door, when Julia’s bedroom door flung open. Startled, Emily jumped.
“My God, Julia!” she gasped, placing her hand on her heart to steady her racing pulse. “You surprised me!”
A devilish light sparked Julia’s green eyes. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned against the doorjamb.
Emily flashed her a warning look. “Not now, Julia.” She opened the door to her own room and crossed to her closet, selecting a black skir
t and top for work. “I’m running late as it is. I have to get six pies in the oven before we open at eleven.”
“That’s fine. I’ll just talk with you while you’re getting ready.” Julia stood in the doorway of Emily’s room now, blocking her escape.
“Please, Julia.” She sighed. “Not now.”
Julia narrowed her gaze but her lips twitched with a smile. “You were with Scott Collins last night, weren’t you?”
“What? Why would you say such a thing?” Emily asked, but she knew it was pointless. She fumbled through her drawers mindlessly, hoping to avoid eye contact.
“Well, Sherlock, let’s see... You’re wearing the same clothes as last night and your bed hasn’t been slept in.” She tsked. “If that doesn’t add up to a little hanky-panky down the hall with the mysterious blast from the past, I don’t know what does.”
“You really need to stop watching Passion’s Crest,” Emily countered.
“No more than you do,” Julia said lightly. Then, collapsing onto the bed, she gushed, “Oh, please tell me. Please!”
Emily stared levelly at her sister, her impatience melting into something softer. With a slow smile, she tipped her head in the direction of the hall. “I have to take a shower. Get the coffee started and I’ll meet you in five minutes.”
Julia squealed and shot out of the bedroom, leaving Emily standing alone in her room. She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror, wondering what Julia’s reaction would be to everything. As much as she dreaded coming clean with her sister, a larger part of her would be relieved. The verdict was in, and it was time to tell Julia about the culinary school.
She showered and dressed quickly, wandering into the kitchen to pour herself a fresh cup of coffee. There were grounds at the bottom of her mug and the brew was too strong. Emily added an extra teaspoon of sugar to hide the bitter taste. Julia was dancing around excitedly, practically rubbing her hands together in anticipation, and Emily experienced a flicker of hesitation. This wasn’t going to be as tantalizing as Julia expected.
“Let’s sit down,” she said, taking her usual chair. When Julia had settled herself she began, “Mr. Collins is in the hospital. He’s been getting weaker and he fell and hit his head quite badly.”
Julia’s face fell. “Mr. Collins was never very nice, but it’s still very sad all the same. I feel sorry for Scott.” She cupped a hand to her mouth as her eyes widened. “And poor Lucy!”
“I know.” Emily rubbed her forehead. “I feel horrible for her, too. Which is why I’m so conflicted.”
Confusion knit Julia’s brow. “Conflicted? About what?”
“This.” Emily slid the acceptance letter across the table to Julia, watching as her sister silently read the single sheet of paper, her expression hovering somewhere between bewilderment and disbelief.
“I don’t understand,” Julia finally said, looking up. “You applied to this culinary school in Boston?” Emily nodded. “But why didn’t you tell me?”
Emily winced at the twinge of hurt in her sister’s voice and shrugged. “There didn’t seem to be much point if I didn’t get accepted. I guess I was afraid of jinxing it.”
Julia stared at her, her mouth a thin line, her eyes sharp. She wasn’t buying it. “You were afraid I would be upset, weren’t you?”
Emily tipped her head. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, Julia. I don’t want to leave you when Mom just moved away, too. But—”
“But you want something else,” Julia said. “Something more.”
Emily nodded. “I guess so.”
Julia’s mouth tipped into a slow, awestruck smile. “I can’t believe I accused you of not trying to make more for yourself. Why didn’t you tell me, then?”
“I told you, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Julia frowned. “You’re going to attend this school, that’s what you’re going to do.”
Emily laughed softly, feeling as though she could weep in relief. “It’s not as simple as that, though. Not anymore, at least,” she added.
“Oh?” Julia said archly. “This wouldn’t have something to do with Scott, would it?”
“I don’t know what’s happening with him,” Emily admitted, feeling lighter than she had in days now that she could open up to someone about her innermost fears and feelings. “I think he really cares about me, but then I can’t help thinking it will all go wrong.”
“Does he know about the school?”
“No.” Emily leaned across the table. “How can I tell him? Lucy is his sister—she’ll be crushed about this, Julia. Crushed!” Her heart began to throb as she imagined Lucy’s reaction. She hated the thought of upsetting her friend right now. And Scott...could she really walk away from him now, just when she’d finally found him again? “I’m not going,” she said firmly. The finality in her tone brought her comfort—an end to her anxiety over the consequences of her decision—and she said it again, with more conviction this time. “I’m not going.”
Julia held her gaze, unblinking. Her eyes were unreadable, her expression flat, but Emily thought she saw something there. Something that looked an awful lot like disappointment. “All your life you’ve sacrificed for me... Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Emily felt her shoulders slump. “It wasn’t a sacrifice, Julia. We’re family. That’s just what you do. You support each other.”
“Exactly,” Julia said. “And that’s why I’m supporting you now. I’ll be fine, Emily! And I want this for you. You obviously want it, too, or you wouldn’t have applied in the first place.”
Emily hesitated. “I was never sure I would really go.”
“This is your chance to make something of yourself, to give yourself a whole new set of opportunities!” Julia insisted. “It wasn’t a possibility for you before, but it can be now. Why wouldn’t you seize this chance? Are you scared?”
Emily scoffed. “No, I’m not scared.” But maybe she was. Maybe the thought of leaving her comfortable life behind was starting to feel unsettling and strange. Or maybe she was afraid of turning her back on the man she had always loved, of doing to him what he had done to her.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you should go.” Julia stood up from the table. Emily tucked the letter back into its envelope as her sister poured a mug of coffee for herself. “I think Dad would have thought the same thing,” she added softly. “He wanted the best for us, and it would have saddened him to know he couldn’t give it to us. This would be your way of showing him we pulled through. That we didn’t miss out on things we could have had. Don’t you see, Emily? You can still have the life you always wanted. You created it for yourself.”
Emily smiled grimly. Leave it to her sister to always voice her own innermost sentiments. Especially the ones she was trying so hard to overlook.
* * *
It was already past eight when Scott opened his eyes to find Emily gone from his bed. For a moment the room felt still, his mind quiet. Then, like a tidal wave, it all came crashing down on him. He closed his eyes, wondering how he would get through the next twelve years as he had somehow endured the last. It was no life to live.
Deep down he had never expected to make amends with his parents, but it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. Somewhere within him was a need to find peace, to put the past behind them, to move on. He just wasn’t sure they could find a way before it was too late.
His father had had more than twenty years to make things right for the Porter family. To take responsibility for the part his company—his son—had played in a man’s death. But instead he had done nothing, kept quiet, and Scott had followed suit. At first he had done so out of horror, and fear. Of the worry of losing the only girl he’d ever loved if he told her the truth. In the years since, he had questioned his decision not to run and tell Emily everything that day. If he had told her,
explained to her the part he had played in it all, would she have still loved him? Or was it better for everyone that he had left town without another word, disappeared without a trace?
Scott heaved a sigh and pushed the covers back off the bed, forcing a piece of paper onto the floor. His pulse skipped as he picked it up and read it. A note. From Emily.
His pulse quickened as he remembered the way her body had writhed beneath his. He could still feel the desire in her touch if he closed his eyes. It was a memory he would have to savor because it would never happen again. The one woman he could love forever was the one person who would soon hate him for life.
He had to tell her. Today.
* * *
For the second day in a row, Emily sold the last slice of pie an hour before closing. The demand the bakery was stirring only furthered her resolve that she should stay where she was needed. If things kept up at this pace, they’d have to double their supply. They might even need to hire a third person to cover the counter while Lucy and Emily tended to the baking.
But then, if they brought on a new person, maybe Emily wouldn’t feel so bad about leaving. Lucy hadn’t been to work that day, and she would probably be out for another few days more. In the brief phone call they’d had, Lucy had said her father would be in the hospital for the week at least, but that he was fortunately being moved out of the intensive care unit later that night. Now wasn’t the time to make any decisions that could further distress her friend. Julia could say what she would, but Emily needed time to think about what she really wanted. What really mattered.
Still, the thought of not going to the school made her heart sink. She had only visited once as part of the admissions process, but she could still recall the way she felt when she was there. She had never felt so excited about the future—at least not since she was seventeen, dreaming about a life with Scott.
One by one, she flicked off the lights of the bakery and turned the sign on the door. The evening air was cool and refreshing, stirring up memories of long walks along the lake at the edge of town, the anticipation she would feel of long summer days and Scott’s bronzed skin beside her on the rocky beach.