Page 33 of Stolen Dreams

Avoiding his eyes, I grab my stuff and put it all in my bag.“What are you doing back in here?”

“She forgot her lunch.”He bends to pick up her lunch box, and comes to standing again as I stop in front of him.“You didn’t eat lunch?”he asks, and I shake my head.

“Things got busy,” I mutter softly as he takes another step, closing the distance, making my mouth suddenly feel dry.

He looks like he’s about to say something when we hear footsteps coming from the hallway that leads to the barn.We both look over to see Hector come in the room and stop when he sees us, his hand gripping papers.“I was just coming to leave these on your desk.”He holds up the papers as if he caught us doing something we shouldn’t have been doing.He walks over, dumping the papers on my desk.“You coming to grab a drink with us tonight?”He stares at Emmett.

“No, not tonight.”He shakes his head.“Another time.”

“Have a good weekend, Lilah.”Hector nods and then walks out of the room, leaving Emmett and me by ourselves.

“Let’s go,” Emmett urges, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him out the door.

“Where are we going?”I ask but try to keep up with him as he opens the passenger truck door.

“Lilah is having dinner with us,” he tells Lucy, who then cheers.“Get in.”He motions with his chin for me to get into the truck.

“Emmett,” I say his name softly, “I’ll be fine.”

“What do you want to eat tonight?Steak or chicken?”He ignores me and asks Lucy.

“Steak, we had chicken the last two nights,” Lucy answers, unaware of the fact I’m going to murder her dad.“Lilah, do you like steak?”

“Um, yes.”I nod and then look back at Emmett, who puts his hand on the base of my back and ushers me into the truck.

“But my truck,” I counter.

“I’ll have someone bring it over to my house.”

I get in the truck to avoid making a scene in front of Lucy.He closes the door, probably afraid I’m going to jump out of the truck.

He gets in and looks over at me.“Buckle up,” he says, starting the truck, and my body just does what he says without even asking questions.

We get to the house, and Lucy jumps out of the back of the truck as I get out of the front.“Emmett,” I say as he walks around the front of the truck and comes to stand next to us, “this is very nice, but I think I’m okay.”Even though now I am freaking out.

“Good, so you’ll eat and then you can go,” he states, walking away from me with Lucy by his side.“You guys can make a salad while I grill the steaks.”

“Oh, I like salad,” Lucy chirps.“Do you like salad, Lilah?”

“Yes,” I mumble as we walk into the house.I look at Emmett, who stares at me and tries to hide his smile.

“I can show you where all the stuff is,” Lucy states, “but we have to wash our hands first.”

I kick off my boots and put them neatly on the side before I put my purse on the side table and follow her as if I am walking on a minefield to the fridge.He walks over with us, grabbing the steaks out of the fridge before walking to the sink and washing his hands.Lucy grabs my hand and pulls me into the bathroom, where we wash our hands together.

When we walk back into the kitchen, Emmett marinates the steaks while Lucy goes to the fridge and grabs the stuff to make the salad.I stand here like my feet are in cement boots, not able to move.I feel like I’m intruding on their things, yet I'm captivated by the domesticated Emmett.

“You can cut these.”Lucy points at the counter where there is a cucumber, red pepper, onion, and tomatoes.“I’m not allowed to use the knife yet.”

Emmett side-eyes her.“You almost cut off your finger the last time.”She doesn’t argue with him.

Instead, she washes the lettuce while I grab a knife and start to dice the tomatoes for the salad.“Lilah,” she says as she rips apart the lettuce, “do you think you can take me riding?”

I look up from the cutting board, my eyes going straight to Emmett, whose hand has stopped midway adding steak spice to the meat.“Um,” I say softly, “I would love to.”She starts to smile.“But that would be up to your dad.”I know, for sure, he’s going to tell me there is no way in hell I can take his daughter riding.

Shocking the fuck out of me, he adds in, “I don’t see why not.We could do it Sunday.”

“I can’t Sunday,” I tell them.“I have a paper to write, and I have to get it done.”I look at the deflated face next to me.“But how about Monday after school?You come to the barn, and instead of doing homework, we go riding?”

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