Page 97 of Riding the Curve

“Yesss?” The ‘s’ lingers longer on my tongue as his knuckles brush against my sensitive core.

“I need you to understand I’m not going anywhere. That no matter what happens, we will figure it out together.”

Too breathless to speak as he continues to stroke me with his deft fingers, I only manage a nod.

“Good. But just in case you forget,” he starts, humming deviously. He drags his mouth slowly across the edge of my jaw until he’s hovering over my lips. “I plan to thoroughly remind you how much I love you every damn day.”

And remind he does. All night long.

Emerson consumes every part of my mind, body, and soul.

CHAPTER 35

Henley

“You sure you don’t mind bunking together for a few days? They just had an unexpected guest flying in and needed one more room. I would have offered them one in the house, but I already gave them all the spare rooms I have.”

“No worries, we’ll get the inflatable mattress all set up. It’ll be like a little slumber party for the next couple of days. Right, Hen?” Emerson smiles deviously.

“Right!” I squeak, swiftly turning around to busy myself with unpacking all the dishes we’d ordered so Preston wouldn’t see the heat scorching my cheeks. Mumbled laughter rumbles next to me as Em steps beside me and helps unpack. I shoot him a glare, which only makes him snort loudly, unable to contain it any longer.

‘Slumber party’ is an understatement for what we’ve been doing the last couple of days.

Ever since that night on the lake, we’ve been spending every moment together. And every glorious night. To be honest, I’m surprised we’re both still standing up straight and functioning with the amount of overtime we’ve been putting in.

“Good to hear! Thank you both,” Preston booms, patting my back. “Were you able to get all the help you need for tomorrow?”

Collecting myself the best I could, I nod. “Between Harper, Melody, and myself, we managed to pull enough people together to help cook, serve, and bartend for the night. So we should be all set. Melody even got Chris at the bar to give them a little bit of a discount for the kegs of beer they ordered.”

“Looks like we’re all set,” he hums softly.

I watch him silently gaze over all that we’ve accomplished over the past couple of days.

With the help of the wedding planner they hired, Em and Preston had the outdoor pergolas and events barn covered in shades of greens, reflecting the couple’s love for nature. The cabins are beginning to fill with guests, some of whom have already enjoyed the lunch I prepared earlier this afternoon. One of the walk-in fridges is overflowing with the most beautiful array of soft pink and peach peonies, as well as an assortment of other beautiful flowers and greenery that will adorn the tables and accent other areas tomorrow. The kitchens are mostly prepped and ready. I’m just waiting on the Wagyu beef the groom requested to be delivered early in the morning.

Everything has fallen into place.

Such a change from the day Emerson and I both arrived back in town.

The Lane Ranch is overflowing with life. Just like Autumn always hoped for.

Preston’s throat bobs.

Em walks around me, placing his arm around his Dad’s shoulder, holding him steady. “She would have loved this, so much.” His deep voice crackles.

Preston extends his free hand toward me, and I take it willingly. With a tug, I’m smushed against his right side, while on the other side is Emerson. The two of us made one big Preston sandwich. “I couldn’t have done this without your help. Love you both.”

He presses a kiss to the side of Em’s cheek, and then one to my forehead. With a heavy sigh, he turns around and begins to unwrap the plates alongside us.

Music begins blaring from my back pocket. Em raises a brow, but I excitedly peel out my phone. “I sent a few emails out yesterday to set up a few interviews for catering staff. I bet this is one of them.”

The screen lights up with an unknown caller, but it’s the area code that makes my breath stall in my throat.

It’s one I remember quite well.

Manhattan, NY.

“Are you going to answer that?” Emerson queries. Concern lingers in his voice.