by Dawn Altieri
But maybe he’d never really had her there to begin with.
His cell phone sat on the coffee table, tormenting him, separating him from her in a way they hadn’t been separated since they met. He wanted to pick it up so badly, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the thought of hearing her say goodbye again.
He sorted through the box of broken picture frames he’d brought back from the Island. He hadn’t said anything to Emma during the ride home, but he’d made up his mind to sell the beach house. The cottage was too tainted with horrible memories, now more than ever, and no longer felt full of life the way it once had been. The silence when he’d packed up to come home this morning had unnerved him, and he wasn’t sure he could handle going back to it.
He brushed shards of glass off one photo after another. Emma had been genuinely interested in these pictures every time he’d brought her to the house. Now that he knew how little she had in terms of family, it made sense that she’d been drawn to his. He gazed at his parents in their wedding portrait, at the candids showing him and Kevin bickering over toys and fishing gear, engaging in impromptu wrestling matches, holding their fishing trophies up for the camera.
His chest ached at all those good memories. There was a time when he’d dreamed of the quiet comfort of a family of his own, but that was long ago. He’d been tearing through life on a high from an addictive and dangerous career, making few real connections with no one to answer to, trying to find something—anything—to absolve himself of his mother’s death.
But no job, no promotion, no solved murder case would ever bring her back. He had to stop punishing himself for that night, had to stop telling himself he didn’t deserve to be happy.
He wanted Emma, and damn it, he deserved her. He wanted to answer to her, to promise her things he’d never considered with anyone else. To make a home for them like the one he’d once known. He couldn’t let all that go, couldn’t let go of the last connection he had to a real family and the promise of a future one. There was plenty of room to add more pictures to that wall.
There was no question. He had to fix this.
He’d have to be patient, wait until she was ready to talk.
But what if she never was?
Fuck. Patience had never been his strong point.
Chapter Seventy
Lauren handed Emma a cup of English Breakfast tea and settled in on the sofa next to her, slipping off her ballet flats and tucking her feet under her. Emma had filled her friend in on everything, from the night at the gala to the standoff at Jake’s beach house.
Now, after a good long cry, she could finally breathe again.
“So, how are you?” Lauren asked.
Emma forced a weak smile. “I’ll be okay.”
“No, I mean, really. I’m not talking about Jake. How are you?”
Emma let out an exhausted, defeated whimper that mimicked her state of mind. “As well as can be expected, I guess. My God, I still can’t believe Matt did this.”
“He was not normal, Em,” Lauren replied. “That guy was a full-fledged psychopath.”
“I know.” She slumped back against the sofa cushion. “I just can’t wrap my head around it.”
Lauren reached out and covered her hand. “You will, one day.”
Emma nodded, although she wasn’t convinced. Maybe someday she’d stop blaming herself for everything that had happened, but today was not that day. If her instincts had been better, if she’d genuinely listened to Jake about the killer being someone she knew…
“You know,” Lauren said, “you need to talk to Jake.”
It was the one part of the story she’d been ashamed to tell her friend, the part about how she’d rejected Jake, blamed him for trying to control her life when he’d simply been trying to keep her safe. But deep down she knew the only person controlling her life was her. She was the one who’d stayed so long in a job she hated. She was the one who’d kept putting off polishing up her resume and working toward doing what she loved. She was the one who’d let other people’s opinions sabotage what she wanted for herself, because she’d never trusted her own instincts.
And she was the one who’d hesitated when Jake suggested she look into buying that flower shop. Maybe she could call the realtor…
She sighed. “I can’t. I wouldn’t even know what to say to him.” She dropped her head toward Lauren, lowered her voice, and shared with her the worst part of the whole mess. “He told me he loves me.”
A thin smile crept onto Lauren’s face.
Emma eyed her friend suspiciously. “Why don’t you seem surprised?”
Lauren leaned toward Emma. “Of course he loves you. Why wouldn’t he? Oh, Em,” Lauren said softly, sliding over to hug her. “I’m so sorry you’re going through all this. I wish there was something I could do. But it’s painfully obvious that man loves you. Yes, he fucked up. He’s a guy, isn’t he? He’ll probably fuck up again. But I saw it that night at Donnelly’s, and again at his apartment when I brought you your dress. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the whole world? That’s it, Em. That’s love. I wish you could see it for yourself.”
Emma rubbed the moisture from her eyes. She laid her head back against the sofa and winced at the dull ache that still lingered. “All this crying is killing my head.”
Lauren pulled her close so Emma could rest it on her shoulder. “It’s okay to cry,” Lauren said. “Stay here and wallow and mourn and get it all out of your system. You’ve earned it after what you’ve been through. But when you’re all better, you’ve got to go find him and tell him you love him, too.”
Chapter Seventy-One
Jake opened his apartment door, froze, and let out a barely audible gasp. “Emma?”
Her heart warmed at the sight of him, then broke all over again. She hadn’t forgotten how handsome he was, even if the dark circles under his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept over the past two weeks, either.
“Can I come in?” she asked softly.
“Of course.” He stepped back uncertainly and opened the door wider, allowing her to pass. His fresh, earthy scent filled her nose and tugged hard at the knot in her chest. “It’s good to see you,” he said, sounding like it was anything but.
She let her gaze drift around the apartment, then glanced over her shoulder toward the bedroom loft. “I came to get my things.”
The wary hint of a smile on his face vanished, and the muscles of his neck bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Right. Wait here. I’ll bring your bags down.”
She sat on the sofa in front of a box of broken pictures from the beach house. She lifted his parents’ wedding photo, thinking back to the first time he’d brought her there, the first time she’d envisioned a future with him. She’d lost sight of it in the confusion of the last several weeks, but his mother’s warm eyes staring up at her brought it into focus again. She replaced the photo on the pile and glanced at a familiar stack of papers next to the box.
He came down the stairs with the two large bags of clothing they’d grabbed from her apartment after the break-in, clothing she’d never even had a chance to sort through and hang up.
She lifted the papers from the coffee table, recognizing them from that last awful day at the beach house, but perversely needing to hear his explanation. “What is this all about?”
He blew out a deep breath. “It was a sales contract for the flower shop. After I showed it to you that day, I had the realtor get it ready for you, just in case you were interested. I was going to give it to you the next time we went to the beach house and…” His words drifted to a stop.
He didn’t need to finish. No doubt he’d planned on giving her the paperwork after he told her he loved her, and she’d told him she loved him, too—the way he’d probably imagined she would’ve responded to his confession.
“Without talking to me
about it first?” she asked. “What made you think you could orchestrate a sales contract on my behalf without even talking to me?”
“Orchestrate?” He blinked, then shook his head. “I own it, Emma. I’m the one selling it. Helen’s been running it since my mother died, but the shop is mine.”
Emma stuttered in confusion. “But… How?”
“My mother was the original owner. Helen’s House of Flowers was previously Katherine’s House of Flowers.” He shrugged. “I just thought Emma’s House of Flowers had a nice ring to it. That maybe…” He grimaced.
Emma drew in a sharp breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to influence you. Helen and my mom worked together for years, and once my mom was gone, Helen took over. It’s really only mine on paper. I never took any of the profits, or anything. Just a little rent to cover the maintenance.”
Understanding washed over her. And a generous dose of shame at her snap judgment.
Once again so very wrong.
Jake hadn’t been trying to control her future. The decision to take over the shop would’ve been completely up to her, but he’d wanted to ensure she had the choice to make, to give her a shot at what she wanted. He would’ve supported whatever decision she made, of that she had no doubt.
And she suddenly understood that the things he had controlled…all of it had been for the sole purpose of keeping her safe.
God, what the hell had she done?
Jake was the one thing in her life she could count on, no matter what else happened around them. Even amid all the chaos, he’d been by her side, calling forth a strength within her she’d never realized existed. A strength that had likely saved both their lives and gotten her through the nightmare of the last several weeks.
Why had she ever pushed him away?
Despite the tragedy that had unfolded years ago in that beach house, there was still so much love and acceptance between him and his father and brother. She could slip right into his family and experience support and encouragement the likes of which her own family had never given her. All while she followed the dreams she’d pushed aside for so long.
All with Jake at her side.
“It’s just paperwork,” Jake said and reached for the contract. “Here, I’ll tear it up.”
She faced him with the papers still in her hands, keeping them out of his reach. “No. I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He shook his head and dropped his hand. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I overstepped.”
She lowered the contract carefully back to the table and gazed at his parents’ photo a moment longer. “No, you didn’t. The thing is, I’ve always wanted what your parents had. What you had with them. A family, a life.” She turned to face him. “But I’m so afraid that if I ever get it, I’ll just end up losing it all, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”
His expression slowly started to look a little hopeful. “You wouldn’t lose it. Not with me, Emma.”
“You can’t make that promise, Jake. Your job—it scares the hell out of me. You put yourself in situations where you can save people, change people’s lives, and I love that about you, but…you could die in the process. Look at what happened to Adam.”
“Adam’s fine—”
“But what if he wasn’t? It doesn’t always work out that way. Justin was murdered right in front of me—”
“Justin wasn’t a cop,” Jake reminded her. “I don’t mean to make light of what happened to him, but clearly, anybody can die suddenly, not just cops.”
“But you are constantly dealing with people capable of killing you for no rational reason—people like Matt.” Her breath caught at the memory of that night, of what she’d had to do. The thought of how she’d almost lost Jake tore her apart. Did she dare take a leap, and accept the worry and sometimes downright fear that would come with loving him, with not knowing whether or not he would come home each night? In order to have him in her life…?
“I know,” Jake said. “Believe me, I know. And it kills me knowing how much it scares you. But being a cop is not just a job to me. It’s who I am. I don’t know what else I could possibly do.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to be scared, and I don’t want you to go through losing someone you love again. Ever.” He hung his head. “But I can’t promise you it won’t happen to me, that I’ll always be around to give you everything you want. So I understand why you left.”
That was just it. He didn’t understand. He was everything she wanted.
It was true he could be stolen from her at any moment, but realistically, the same would be true of anyone she cared about. She’d always be afraid of losing Jake one way or another, but letting Matt’s horrific actions change the life she wanted for herself, just out of fear, wasn’t the answer. Giving anyone that kind of power over her was not an option. That much she’d learned over the past month.
After all they’d been through, she couldn’t give up on Jake on the off chance something might happen to him. She loved him. And she’d continue to love him for as long as she could. He was the only man who’d ever made her truly happy. She didn’t want to put off that happiness any longer.
“I’m not leaving.”
His forehead creased as he lifted his head. “What? But—”
“You don’t have to promise me anything. I just want…you.” She stood and closed the space between them.
His mouth dropped open as he gazed at her in stunned silence. His ice-blue eyes searched hers, filled with uncertainty and disbelief. “Really?”
Tears threatened as she nodded. “I love you, too, Jake,” she whispered. “More than I ever imagined I could. I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
He laid a gentle hand on her cheek, elation pouring over his features. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” He drew her close and pressed his mouth to hers.
She melted against his chest as relief flooded through her that she hadn’t ruined things between them, after all. Everything felt right again.
God, she’d missed this, missed being in his arms. It had been two weeks of utter misery without him, misery she’d stubbornly refused to give in to, thanks to her new, hard-earned sense of independence. Independence that Jake would never expect her to compromise.
She pulled back abruptly. “Wait. You own the flower shop? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“Like I said, I didn’t want to influence you.” He released her, giving her space to think—space she didn’t need. “The choice is yours alone. I didn’t want you to take it just because you thought it’s what I wanted for you.”
He picked up a photo of himself and Kevin in the yard at the beach house, shook the broken glass off the frame and into the box, and swept his finger over the expanse of colorful blooms in the picture. “My mom was obsessed with her flower garden. It looked amazing right before she died. I managed to keep up with it somewhat, but then it was all destroyed in a hurricane a few years back. It was such a mess, and I didn’t have the first clue how to restore it, so I just ripped out all the dead stuff. I felt horrible about all her hard work going to waste, but I didn’t know what else to do.” He turned back to Emma with a sweet smile. “And then you came along and made it beautiful again. I know you could do the same thing with the business. But it has to be what you want.”
She was so grateful he was giving her another chance, even after the way she’d left. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve you.”
“You’ve always deserved to be happy. We both have. We just had to be patient.”
He gently touched his lips to hers, then studied her carefully for a long moment, as though contemplating something. “I never properly thanked you. But I’d like to try to make up for that. I have something for you.” He reached into the box of photos and pulled out a small, black velvet pouch, and after he slid the strings apart, he reached i
n and withdrew a diamond ring.
She covered a gasp, watching him go down onto one knee before her. He took her hand in his and held the ring in his fingertips. “Emma, I want you with me…always. Every day, for the rest of my life. I know it’s too soon, and I know it sounds crazy, but it makes perfect sense to me. Everything about you just makes sense. You’re everything I never thought I’d find, everything I was convinced I didn’t deserve. You’re home.”
He kissed the back of her hand and moved the ring to the tip of her finger. The stone was round, and the platinum setting had been designed to look like a rose. Beautifully sculpted delicate leaves formed the band, giving it an antique feel.
She was speechless.
“Emma, I love you.” He gazed up at her with such love in his eyes, with a hope and excitement for the future she’d never thought she’d see in them. “Will you marry me?”
She slid her finger into the ring, urged him to his feet, shoved her hands into the soft curls at the back of his head. And kissed him with everything she had.
He returned the kiss with a fierce intensity, but he leaned back suddenly. “Is that a yes, Ms. Sloane?”
She tossed her head back with a laugh as her eyes welled with more tears. “That’s a yes, Detective Quinn. Absolutely, a yes. I love you so much. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“Thank God. I don’t think I would’ve survived if you’d turned me down again.”
He pulled her into his arms, lifting her and spinning her around before he released her, setting her feet back onto the floor. She examined the diamond on her hand where it rested on his shoulder, glittering in the setting sunlight that streamed through the window. It was perfect. She’d never seen a piece of jewelry that suited her more.
“Jake, this ring is amazing. But when did you get it? And where in the world did you find it?”