Page 109 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

I keep hold of her hand as I lead her toward the dining room. “This, Tiger, is date night.”

She looks back at me, then back to the setup, with shock and awe in her blue eyes. “Date night? For what? Is it an occasion? Crap! Did I miss an anniversary already? I’m usually so good at that!”

“No,” I say with a laugh as I take her purse from her and she slips off her heels. “There are a few reasons for date night, and none of them are an anniversary. Unless you want to celebrate a belated one-month anniversary of us meeting and you trying to beat me with a shoe.”

“If we don’t have to, I’d rather not,” she says. “I want our anniversary to be special and hold meaning. Not me running from a wedding wearing a horrible dress.”

“Fine by me,” I say. “We’ll lock down an anniversary that’s just for us.”

“I like that.” Her genuine smile hits me in the fucking heart,and I make it my damn mission to come up with the best damn anniversary there ever was. “So, you said there were a few reasons, care to share?”

I lean down to grab the remote for the sound system on my coffee table, turning it up slightly before pulling Stella in my arms. I found a ballad station earlier, and I doubt it knows what’s happening right now, but the lyrics couldn’t be more perfect as I pull Stella into my arms. We start swaying to a song talking about waiting a hundred years to find their person, and that they’d wait a million more. I’ve never understood when people say that they thought a song was written for them, but in this moment, I get it. I fucking get it.

“When we were in Florida, and you were telling me about what you wanted, I was jealous as hell,” I begin. “I had convinced myself I couldn’t be that for you. And I wondered why it bothered me so much. I had made that choice in my life. I was happy, or so I thought.”

I pull her in a little closer as the song changes to a timeless classic. “I don’t know if it was that night. Or the night I found you screaming in the rain. Or the night you don’t want to remember, when we first met. It might have been all of them and a thousand other little times after, but at some point, I realized that I didn’t want to be that guy who lived alone. I didn’t want to just coast through life so scared of what-ifs that I never let myself try. I want to be more. I want to be happy. And I want to do it with you.”

I see tears welling in her eyes. I didn’t mean to make her cry, but I need her to hear all of this. “That night you told me that you wanted date nights and lazy nights in. You wanted random dances in the kitchen and a man who loves you so much it hurts. Well, this might be a date night in, and the dance isn’t random, but Stella Banks, I do love you so much it hurts. But it’s a hurt I want to feel every day because you’re mine. And I’m yours.”

I seal my words with a kiss, holding her so tightly I don’t know if she can breathe. I slowly pull away, still needing to tellher one more thing. “Tonight was the night I wanted to tell you all of that. To tell you that I love you. And that I’m crazy about you, and I’ve never been more determined in my life to make anything work.”

“Oh Emmett,” she says, raising on her toes to kiss me again. “I love that you did that, and all of this, but you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say, twirling her out before twirling her back in. A giggle leaves her body that’s sweeter than any ice cream in the world. “I did have to. I wanted to. I wanted to make you smile. I wanted to show you how much I love you. And, contrary to your brother’s belief, I did not intend on saying that I loved you for the first time in front of him. In fact, and I know he’d disagree with this, but I didn’t want him there at all.”

This gets me a laugh. “I mean, what girl doesn’t want her brother being there the first time the man she loves tells her that?”

“Exactly.” I dip her down low and plant a playful kiss on her neck before bringing her back up. The song changes again, but we don’t say anything, again falling into the rhythm of the pop song I think I remember from my freshman year.

“This was my favorite song growing up,” Stella says, her head against my chest. “And it wasn’t because of the lyrics or anything, it’s because it was Maeve’s favorite.”

I can tell she wants to say more, so I stay quiet to let her gather her words.

“I always felt like I had to be like my sisters. Or have what others did. That I was lacking if I didn’t have the same clothes, or a date to the dance, or even if I didn’t like the same music. It’s how I lived my life. When everyone was getting married, I felt like the odd man out. It’s how I almost ended up with…”

She trails off, purposely not saying his name. Which is fine. Fuck that guy.

“But now, as I’m here with you, this amazing and thoughtful night…how you make me feel every day…I don’t want what others have anymore. Because there’s no way they have what we do. And I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.”

I stop moving, but that’s only so I can cup her face and bring our lips together. Fuck…how did I think I didn’t need this? That my life was complete without this? For a smart guy, I was a fucking idiot.

“I love you, Stella Banks.”

She holds my wrists, her eyes looking up at me with tears and love and forever. “And I love you, Emmett Collins.”

Without giving her a warning, I bend down to pick her up, legs in my arms as I start walking her down the hallway to our bedroom.

“Where are we going? What about dinner? I saw breadsticks!”

“Not now, Tiger,” I say, kicking open the door. “I think tonight we have dessert first.”

guide to love rule #83

Find you a man who fixes you a plate.

Or will bail you out of jail.

32

---