Page 70 of Blitzing Emily

He laid his fingertips over her lips. “The wedding can be as big or as small as you’d like. It doesn’t matter. I want it to happen. You and me.”

Emily dragged breath into her lungs. “Yes. This is real.”

“Wait till you find out where we’re going on our honeymoon.”

Her hands shook. Her mouth went dry. She shifted on the bench. “The NFL Hall of Fame?”

His chuckle was low and sexy. He pulled her earlobe into his mouth, nibbled it, and said, “Nope. I’m not taking you anywhere anyone will recognize either of us. I want you all to myself.”

“I might be able to arrange that.”

“Good,” he purred.

Being close to him was like sticking a wet finger into an electrical outlet. She kept telling herself to breathe. She couldn’t imagine there would be a day she didn’t feel like this.

“So, we have a deal.” he said. “February fifteenth.”

“Maybe we should discuss where we’re getting married.”

“That’s your job. You get to have whatever you’d like, and I will be happy with it.”

“It’s the First Church of Elvis for you, bruiser.”

“Great. I’ll wear blue suede shoes.” His brow furrowed. “You’re not serious.”

“Maybe. You’ll be so cute in that big black pompadour.”

“You’ll be sporting the long, teased black hair, won’t you?”

She had to laugh. “We can’t get married there. I love your hair the way it is too much.” She reached up to brush the curls off his forehead.

“Sugar, aren’t you sweet?” He thought for a moment. “You’ll let my mama help you, won’t you? She loves that stuff.”

“I will,” Emily promised. She ran her fingers through his curls again. The sun shone down on them. Hundreds of people enjoyed the Sunday afternoon all around them. It was just another day with one large exception: They’d set a wedding date. But Brandon never actually asked her to marry him. They had never talked about being in love, either.

Chapter Fourteen

THE HOUSE WASpainted a bluish gray with immaculate white trim. The older architecture was dwarfed by the large homes surrounding it, but Emily loved the old-fashioned overgrown gardens and the stone path from the sidewalk. Several steps led down the walk to the front door. The front porch needed a glider. If she lived here she’d pick some of the wild roses that grew over the railing.

“Home sweet home,” Brandon said with a grin. “Nordquist’s allegedly in Hawaii with his girlfriend for a few days, so we have the place to ourselves.”

“Who’s Nordquist?” Emily took a deep breath of wild rose-scented air.

“You’ve met Greg. He’s on the practice squad. He lives in the basement when he’s in town.”

The front door of Brandon’s house was inset with leaded glass: an old-fashioned, intricate design. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but it didn’t look like him. He opened the front door, and ushered her into the cool dimness of an entry hall with wide plank flooring. She set her handbag down on a large maple storage bench with hooks for coats.

“How about a drink?” Brandon called as he went into the kitchen, which was to the right of the front door.

She followed him. A maple kitchen table and cream-painted chairs sat in front of a sunny bay window. The cabinets matched the table and chairs. The countertops were neutral granite. Another window over the kitchen sink offered a view of the postage stamp-sized front yard. The appliances were stainless steel, and appeared new. There were even sunflowers in a sage-colored pottery vase on the kitchen table.

He opened the refrigerator door. “I’ve got Coke, bottled water, beer, juice, and sweet tea. I can also make some coffee, if you’d like.”

“I’ll take a Coke.”

“No ice,” he mumbled to himself. He’d seen her order enough drinks without ice to know she stayed away from it.

Emily wandered over to a bulletin board hanging above a maple-and-cream writing desk. Even a bachelor needed somewhere to put the grocery list, the team schedule, and the folder of bills to be paid. The rest of the board was covered with snapshots of what she imagined were family and friends at various vacation spots. She noticed a photo of Brandon with a dark-haired guy about the same age and with the same eyes and facial structure, along with an older couple. They were standing on what appeared to be the same deck she saw through the arched entry into the dining room.

---