by Lucy Kevin
“It’s only to be expected,” Michael finished for her, “since it’s her honeymoon.”
Emily smiled. “I hope they’re having an amazing time in Rio.”
“I know they must be,” Michael said. “Because when two people love each other as much as they do...”
The word love hung between them. But for once, Emily couldn’t find the words—or the will—to push it away.
And as Michael took her hand and drew her down to sit at the kitchen table beside him, she could no longer deny just how good-looking he was. Not just because of his dark hair and eyes and strong build, but because he was so comfortable in his own skin. With every boyfriend she’d had in the past, it had always felt as if there was something missing—a distance she hadn’t been able to bridge, no matter how nice the guy was.
But with Michael, there was no distance.
“It’s a little strange,” he said, “thinking about just you and Grams being in this house.” Gus barked. “I know, you’re here now, too,” he said, ruffling the dog’s fur. “It’s just that for so many years the place was packed to the rafters.”
“I know what you mean,” Emily said. “This house always felt so full of life to me, so cozy despite its size, thanks to the number of people in it. But now”—she paused, almost feeling disloyal for even thinking it, let alone saying the words aloud—“it feels too big.” Almost as if it was a constant reminder of all the people who weren’t there.
Michael had always been confident, always been sure of his direction. But for the first time, it struck her that he looked a little nervous as he reached into his pocket. “There’s something I want to show you.” The piece of paper he pulled out was old, yellowed by the years, and patched up with tape.
“Michael.” She couldn’t quite find her voice, or her breath. “That’s the house plan you helped me with for school.”
He handed her the paper, and she spread it out on the table. She’d drawn this at the kitchen table, with her mother and Michael helping her come up with ideas for a dream house.
“I tore this up, but...” She lifted her eyes to his, her heart aching for the hurt little girl she’d once been—and the wonderful boy Michael had been even then. “You saved it.” She reached for his hand. “Thank you. Thank you for saving it for me.”
He looked down at their linked hands, then back up at her face. “It would fit perfectly with the empty lot down the street.”
She knew exactly the lot he was talking about. “That’s our spot, the place we’ve always met each other in the middle.”
“We could buy it, and start from this plan, and build a house together. We’d still be close to Ava, but the house would be ours.”
Maybe it was crazy. Maybe this was the moment when she should have realized just how far she’d let things go—and that it was way too far. Maybe it was the glass of red wine she’d been drinking on an empty stomach that was helping to suppress the part of her that normally would protest that they shouldn’t do anything that could ruin their friendship.
Or maybe, just maybe, it was finally time to admit that she was wrong to keep pushing Michael away.
Maybe she’d been wrong about not wanting to blur the lines between friendship and love with Michael.
Maybe she’d been wrong about always putting her sisters’ lives ahead of her own.
And maybe she’d been wrong about not following her heart when love had been waiting all along for her to be brave enough to grab hold of it.
The only thing she knew for sure was that it was time to reach out and, for once, take what she wanted.
She kissed him this time, meeting Michael’s lips with a kiss that was full of all the pent-up passion and emotion that had been building inside of her for so long. So many years of holding back were let loose in a mind-blowingly wonderful moment as he kissed her back just as hungrily.
She reveled in the sweet joy of finally getting to explore the hard and rugged planes of his body with her hands, taking in the feel of him as her other senses absorbed his scent and taste and the sheer heat of him.
Emily was almost shocked when Michael pulled back, holding her at arm’s length. “Are you sure about this?”
She cut him off with another kiss, one that managed to be even more passionate, and thank God, he seemed to get the message this time. They stumbled back against the kitchen table together, half-falling over it. But she wanted him so badly that she didn’t care if it was in her bedroom or in the middle of the kitchen, just so long as—
They looked up at the sound of Gus barking and were both laughing—still friends even as they were about to become lovers—as she suggested, “Maybe we should go somewhere without an audience?”
Michael kissed her again before saying, “That sounds good to me.” She took Michael by the hand, pausing to kiss him again halfway up the staircase, when he said, “Better than good. Amazing.”
And when they finally shut the bedroom door behind them, and Michael began to strip away her clothes, one sweet kiss at a time, amazing was only the beginning.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As the sunlight came in through her bedroom window, Emily woke to the wonderful feeling of warmth and comfort. And, most of all, happiness. Happiness that was deeper and truer than anything she could ever remember feeling before.
She turned slightly, looking over her shoulder. Michael lay beside her, his arm wrapped around her even in sleep, as if he didn’t plan on ever letting her go.
Emily smiled lazily at that thought, while the sweet, and very sexy, memories of the night before filtered into her morning wakefulness. Right now, there wasn’t anything she wanted more than to just stay here, her head nestled against the strong expanse of Michael’s chest.
Of course, that was right when Gus barked outside the bedroom door.
When Michael’s eyes opened at the sound, his smile was the biggest she’d ever seen as he drew her closer. “Good morning, beautiful.”
His sweet words—and the heat of his body wrapped around hers—made her feel warm all over, inside and out. She kissed him good morning, but before their kiss could turn into something more, Gus began to bark again. Louder this time.
Reluctantly, they drew apart. “Sounds like our little friend isn’t going to let us sleep,” she said as she went to let Gus into the bedroom. Both she and Michael gave him some love before they began to get dressed to take the dog out.
She’d worried that something like hunting around in the bedroom for their clothes and shoes would change things between them. But right now, all those changes felt perfect. Especially every time Michael moved close to kiss her again.
“What are you thinking?” Michael asked after giving her yet another amazing kiss.
“Just how good this all feels.”
She didn’t mind admitting it anymore, not when waking up with nothing to do but be together and look after the dog—who, for some strange reason, was barking again—was as close to perfect as she could imagine.
Gus raced downstairs with Emily and Michael close behind. That was when Emily heard someone sneezing loudly. She was halfway through the door to the kitchen when she stopped dead in her tracks, causing Michael to bump into her.
“A dog?” Paige’s voice was muffled as she held her hand in front of her face like a mask. “Since when do we”—another sneeze punctuated the sentence—“have a dog here?”
It would have been bad enough if it had just been Paige. But either Emily was seeing things...or most of her family was sitting in the kitchen. Grams was there with Hanna, obviously back from their trip to the mainland. Rachel was there, too. Even their father was there. Only Morgan was missing, still off on her honeymoon.
“What are you all doing here?” Emily asked.
“Dad had to fly from Italy to bring back a really homesick student who wouldn't stop asking to come home,” Hanna said, “and our last interview got canceled, so I thought I’d bring Grams…” She trailed off, looking past Emily to where Mic
hael was standing. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. My. God.”
She wasn’t the only one frozen in sudden shock. Paige forgot about her allergies and just stared. Rachel actually dropped the bungee cord she was holding.
It was as if everyone was taking a snapshot of Emily and Michael looking like they’d just gotten out of bed. A bed they’d obviously shared.
“No way,” Rachel said.
When Michael stepped past Emily, the familiar cold dread—the dread that had so wonderfully been pushed away last night and this morning—started to pool in her stomach again. She prayed Michael wouldn’t say anything, or at least that he’d say something to fix this horrible situation.
But Emily knew better than anyone that some prayers had no chance of being answered.
“It’s true, what you’re thinking,” he told her family. “And I’m glad, really glad, that you’re all here for this moment. One that’s been far too long in coming.”
Before Emily could process what he was saying—or what he was about to do—Michael got down on one knee.
“I wanted to wait until your family was here, Emily, because I know that family means everything to you. They mean as much to you as you do to me. I love you, and everybody here has been a part of our love story.”
Even though he was right, as she looked around at her family standing in a small half circle around them and felt her heart hammering in her chest as though it was about to tear free, she couldn’t let him say anything more.
This past week, despite all the ups and downs, she’d finally acknowledged to herself that the two of them were good together. That they could be happy not just as friends, but as a couple. But right now she felt as if she was on a runaway freight train, unable to feel anything but sheer terror.
On instinct, more than anything else, she pushed past her family before they could do anything to try to stop her.
* * *
Michael’s first instinct was to take off after Emily. To pull her into his arms and hold her close until she understood that she didn’t have to run away.
Still on one knee, he started forward, taking off like a runner out of the blocks, when Ava stepped in front of him.
“Michael. Don’t.”
“But, Grams—”
“What are you going to do? Run after her and tell her how much you love her? Grab her to stop her from leaving? Emily’s running precisely because she feels smothered by it all. Go after her now, and she might never stop running.”
“I just want to make sure she’s all right.”
“I know,” Ava said. “We all want that. I’ll go after her. And I want all of you to wait here. I might be a while. I should have had this conversation with Emily a long time ago.” Ava set off, stopping only to grab some tissues.
It nearly broke Michael to resist the urge to go after her. Nothing hurt him more than knowing Emily was in pain. But Grams had been firm about it, and in his heart of hearts, he knew she was right. If he put any more pressure on Emily, he might push her all the way out of his life.
Which left him standing in the kitchen with Tres, Paige, Hanna, and Rachel. It wasn’t a comfortable moment, but then, how could it be? He’d just managed to upset Emily more than anyone ever had. More than that, he’d just completely disrupted the dynamics of their family.
Tres held his gaze. “I think you and I should have a talk, Michael.”
Michael followed Emily’s father out of the kitchen into the sitting room. But neither of them sat as Tres said, “So...you and Emily?”
“Yes,” Michael replied.
“Well,” her father said slowly, “I guess we all saw that one coming. Still, I have to admit we’re all a little shocked that it did.”
“Please know that I never meant to hurt her—that was the very last thing I ever wanted to do. I thought I was doing the right thing, especially when I saw that all of you had arrived home. In the back of my mind, I guess I’d always imagined including everyone in your family in a moment like this. I just love her so much.”
“I might not quite have my mother’s genius for working these things out,” her father said, “but I’m not blind, Michael. And neither are the other girls. We’ve all known that you’re in love with Emily, and we’ve all hoped that one day she’d realize she’s in love with you, too.”
It was amazing to hear the father of the woman he’d just slept with—the same woman he’d just succeeded in upsetting so completely—speaking so calmly about the situation.
“I thought you’d be upset with me.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Tres said, “if it had been anyone else coming down from my daughter’s bedroom, or sending her off crying, I’d be losing my mind. But the truth is that I know we wouldn’t be in this position if it were anyone but you.”
“I’m sorry that I—”
“No,” her father said, cutting him off. “There are some things you should never apologize for. And there are some things you shouldn’t ever regret, either. I loved Ellen with all my heart, and there were certainly some bad times that came after her death. I wasn’t much of a father because of them. But I still don’t regret one second of loving her. Do you feel that deeply about my daughter?”
“Yes,” Michael said without hesitation, “I do.”
Tres seemed pleased by his response—and not at all surprised. “I didn’t do everything I should have for my daughters. I left you and Emily and my mother to do a lot of the things that I should have done, that I couldn’t do. Every time I think about that, I feel so guilty about the burden that I placed on all of you. On Emily in particular. She has spent so much of her life giving to other people. Now, there’s nothing more I’d like than to see her happy. And believe me, Michael, you do make her happy.”
“What about all the others?” Tres’ words gave him encouragement, but at the same time, he didn’t want to upset Emily’s sisters.
“Do you think for one moment that they would want to stand in your way? I told you before, they’ve hoped for a long time that the two of you would face what you’ve always felt for each other.”
Michael was glad that he had Tres’ blessing. Beyond glad. Because after everything the older man had done for him, this meant the most to him. And yet...
“All this talk of the others being happy doesn’t mean anything if I’ve just lost Emily,” Michael said.
In the last twenty-four hours they’d been the closest they had ever been, but she’d still run away from him. How could two people be together when one of them was so scared of the future that she’d rather run than face it?
“Michael, I may not have been around much, but I was still here enough to know that you don’t quit. You’ve been willing to trust in your love for my daughter for as long as I can remember. Whatever you do,” Tres said in the fiercest voice Michael had ever heard from him, “don’t you dare stop trusting now.”
“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to,” Michael promised. “I’ve always loved Emily. And I always will.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Emily could feel the tears streaming down her face as she ran, not paying any attention to where she was going. Finally, she came to a stop, leaning against a streetlight that sat halfway between her house and…
“No,” Emily said, shaking her head and wiping her cheeks roughly with the back of one hand, “I was not running toward Michael’s house. I wasn’t.”
With her family staring at her like that, and with Michael doing crazy things like trying to propose to her, the home that had always felt so safe had become a place to escape from. She’d had to get away.
Gus stood on his hind legs, and she bent down so that he could lick the tears from her cheeks. “What am I going to do?”
“You could start by not running away again.” Emily turned at the sound of her grandmother’s voice. She had been so upset that she hadn’t heard Grams approaching. “Honestly, running after you today was much harder than it was when you were a little girl.”
�
��Grams, I’m so sorry.”
“Hush now.” Grams gathered Emily close. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“But Michael and I—”
“Didn’t I just tell you that you have nothing to apologize for?” She said it in her I’m your grandmother, do what you’re told voice.
Emily found herself a little surprised at just how comforting that voice was. It reminded her of times when she’d been looking after her sisters and one of them had gotten out of hand enough that Emily hadn’t been able to control things. Grams had always stepped in and managed the situation. Just like she obviously intended to do right now.
“Yes, Grams,” Emily said, because it was the only thing she could say when her grandmother sounded that certain about something.
“Now,” her grandmother said, moving to Gus and stroking behind his ears, “who’s this little guy?”
“His name is Gus,” Emily said.
Her dog took that as his cue to roll onto his back to have his tummy tickled. Grams obliged, drawing a delighted bark from the dog.
“Where did he come from?”
“Michae—” His name got caught in her throat as all of his words of love, and all of the pleasure she’d found in his arms last night, swirled around and around inside of her. “We found him wandering around at the garden plot. At first I didn’t think it would be possible to keep him.”
“But Michael talked you into it,” Grams guessed. “Because he knew how much you wanted a dog.”
As Emily nodded, Gus moved to sit beside her, and she put a protective hand on his head between his ears. “I know that Paige has allergies, but I was hoping we could figure something out.”
Grams waved that concern away. “Of course Gus can stay. Did you think I was going to ask you to get rid of him?”
Suddenly, Emily felt like a little girl again. Asking her grandmother if she could keep the dog she’d found. Running away because her sisters and father had just seen the man they’d thought of as a brother coming downstairs from Emily’s bedroom.