Page 102 of Emmy's Ride

I glanced back at the beautiful home, picturing a younger Austin running through the fields, playing in the barn, being happy. It was a rare glimpse into the softer side of him, the boy he used to be before life hardened him into the man he had become.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” I murmured. “Why bring me here?”

Austin’s gaze locked on to mine, unwavering. “Because it’s mine,” he said simply. “And one day, I want to live here with my wife and our children.”

He paused, watching me carefully. “I don’t want to scare you, Em. I know you’re still healing, still figuring things out. But I need you to know what I want. When the time is right, I want you to be my old lady.”

My breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but the idea that Austin saw a future with me—a real one beyond the MC, beyond the chaos that had surrounded us—was more than I could have hoped for.

He reached for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Come inside.”

I let him lead me up the porch steps and through the heavy wooden door. The interior was just as stunning as the exterior—high ceilings, polished hardwood floors, antique furniture that gave the house an Old-World charm. Austin guided me through each room, showing me the grand living room with a massive stone fireplace, the kitchen that was big enough for a family to gather in, the sunlit breakfast nook with windows that overlooked the stables.

Then he took me upstairs. We stepped into one of the bedrooms, and something inside me shifted. The room was elegant, furnished with delicate French provincial pieces. Soft, gauzy curtains framed the large windows letting in golden light. It was beautiful. And in that moment, I saw our daughter standing in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress for prom, excitement in her eyes as she twirled.

Our son, sliding down the grand staircase’s banister, laughing as I scolded him for nearly giving me a heart attack.

I saw a life. A future. A family.

Tears stung my eyes, and I turned away, swallowing hard. I wanted it—wanted it more than I had words for. But my past still reminded me of the blackness I couldn’t shake.

“Austin,” I said softly, stepping closer.

His hands found my shoulders, warm and comforting. “Talk to me.”

I shook my head. “I want this,” I admitted. “More than anything. But I don’t know how to get there. How to be the person who deserves it.”

Austin turned me to face him, his fingers tilting my chin up until my eyes met his. “You are that person,” he said firmly. “You’ve always been that person. Nothing that happened changes that. Nothing you did, nothing you were forced to do makes you any less deserving of this life. Of love. Of happiness.

“I love you, Emmy,” he murmured. “And I’ll wait. However long it takes. Just don’t shut me out.”

My heart ached at his words. I had spent so much time punishing myself, convincing myself that I wasn’t worthy. But standing in this house, in Austin’s arms, I could almost let myself believe him.

When he leaned down, I didn’t pull away. When his lips met mine, I let myself feel it.

Austin stared at me, his breathing heavy, his dark eyes filled with something raw and fierce. Love. Devotion. A determination that made my chest tighten. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“I need you,” I whispered, my voice trembling but certain in its conviction. “Here. Now. In the place that’s going to be our future.”

Austin’s jaw clenched, his thumb tracing the curve of my bottom lip. “Emmy…”

I pressed my fingers over his lips, silencing whatever doubt lingered in his mind. “I want you to erase everything that came before. I want to feel you. Only you.”

A sound left his throat—half growl, half groan—as he cupped the back of my head and pulled me against him. His lips found mine in a kiss full of promise. His hands moved over me slowly, mapping me as if I were something precious, sacred.

My fingers slid beneath his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his back, the heat of his skin. He shivered under my touch, his control fraying as he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed.

Austin laid me down gently, hovering over me, his weight braced on his forearms. His forehead touched mine, his breath mingling with mine in the quiet space between us. “This isn’t about erasing anything, baby. You don’t need to be erased.”

He kissed me again, slower this time, savoring me. “This is about reminding you who you are. And who you’ve always been.”

My chest ached at his words, the sincerity behind them seeping into the cracks I thought would never mend.

His hands slid down my sides, lifting the hem of my shirt. I arched into him, letting him strip it away, leaving me bare beneath him. Austin’s gaze ran over me, his fingers trailing over my skin in a touch so tender, it made me shudder.

He kissed a slow path down my body, his lips worshipping every inch of me as if he were memorizing me anew. His hands traced the scars still fading from my wrists, his lips pressing over them in silent reassurance.

I reached for him, pulling him back up to me, needing to feel the warmth of his body against mine. “Austin…”

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