Page 51 of Here With You

“Let’s take it one day at a time. Well, today is the only day you may get. Who knows how long your mother has. My sister was here one day and gone the next. I never even got to say goodbye. Don’t let a second pass that you might regret.”

He rose and rushed to her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her like it might be his last chance because she was right. No one knew when it might be. “I love you, Emmaline Brown. Thirty years might have passed, but it feels like yesterday you were planning our wedding.”

Her breath caught, and he worried that he might have brought up an unpleasant memory. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him a curious look. “Why are you sorry? I messed up too.”

He liked the mature Emmaline, who was willing to take responsibility for her part in their demise. “We can spend the rest of our moments making it up to each other.”

“I like that idea better.”

“Speaking of moments, not that it matters, but has there been anyone since me? Cricket alluded to the fact that you might have never … you know … since we …” He cocked his head and nodded to the stairs that led to her bedroom.

“Cricket what?” She huffed. “I can’t believe she told you that. What exactly did she say?”

He grimaced. He didn’t want to cause a rift between the two women, but he knew he had to tell Emmaline, or she’d go to the diner and get it straight from Cricket’s mouth. “She said, and I quote, ‘That girl is a born-again virgin.’”

“I’m going to kill her.”

“I think she was trying to make me feel special.”

“Do you feel special?”

“Of course, you always make me feel that way, but is it true?”

She cleared off the table and walked toward the door. “This is another example of how a woman can do things herself. You know a woman doesn’t need a man to orgasm, right? I’m happy to discuss my sex life with you, but if you want a full accounting of what I’ve been up to for the last thirty years, I’ll expect the same. Shall we have a seat and exchange names, or would you rather help me put fresh wood by the fire pit?”

He rushed around her to open the door. “Where do I get the wood?”

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

There were some things Em didn't discuss with anyone, and her frequency of lovers was one of them. It wasn't as if the opportunities didn't present themselves. There were always men looking for love, but her heart was damaged, and she never felt right about promoting a faulty product to someone. Though the hurts were still there, they were no longer embedded deep inside. They were at the surface and healing because Miles had returned.

Whoever said you could never go back was wrong. Sometimes it was necessary to go back to move forward. Miles had been an excruciating part of her past, but he was also becoming an exciting part of her future.

“Do you set the fire pit up every day?” Miles stacked tinder and wood in the stone-circled pit. “I don't remember this being here when we were kids.”

She shook her head. “It wasn't. Dad didn't want an open fire on the property.” He never gave people much credit and worried they'd burn down everything he'd built. “I put just enough wood so they can build a decent fire, make some s’mores, and tell a good story or two.” She pointed to the bucket of water. “It's clear in the brochure that when they are finished, they have to douse the embers with water.”

“I rarely agreed with your father about anything, but unsupervised fires can be problematic.”

“People are often smarter than they look.”

“I'm not talking about how smart people look. I've seen some brilliant people do some stupid things. I'm just surprised you'll control everything from the seagulls to the chewed gum on the bottoms of the tables, but you'll let guests start fires at will.”

She hadn't thought of it in those words, but he had a point. Then again, she couldn't control everything. She tried to for years, and then her parents passed. A new normal began, and she breathed a little easier because she wasn't reminded of their daily disappointment. Her sister was easier to work for, but she was in control. It wasn't until her brother-in-law and her sister passed that she could make decisions regarding the resort; the fire pit was the first she'd made. As a kid, it was the one thing she always wanted. It was a place where families could gather, and tell stories while they roasted marshmallows. That was always her dream. She wanted those family moments, and those stories, but all she got were rules and condemnation. When the handyman made a circle with boulders, all she heard was her father's voice tell her it was irresponsible, and she'd burn the place down, but it had been years, and nothing devastating had happened. She never got the warm fuzzy experience, but she gave it to others.

“I think my father punished me because of you.”

Miles stopped stacking the wood and looked at her. “Because of the deal?”

She shrugged. “It was just another thing that made him believe I was bad at decision-making.”

Miles frowned, and she watched the light die in his eyes.

“It's amazing how one decision changed the lives of so many.” He walked to her and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tightly.

There was no question—the best place to be was wrapped in one of his hugs. She knew it back then and knew it now. Only back then, she was too young to have a voice. Or, after so many years of being silenced, she was programmed not to use her voice. She had a reputation as being the wild Brown girl—the unpredictable child of Bessy and Horace. In hindsight, her unpredictability was all she could control. The problem with the heir and the spare mentality was the spare's only purpose was to step in when the heir could no longer perform their duty, but the spare was reminded constantly that they were not the chosen.

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