Page 73 of Emil

Those ten minutes also gave me space to think about whether I could stay on the island long-term. I’d halfheartedly looked at rental options, but I’d need to make some severe cuts in other parts of my budget. Still, staying might be worth it. Something about the island lowered my temperature. I was calmer, more settled, definitely less stressed. I just wasn’t sure if that was the island itself or being around Emmie.

When I first met him, I’d thought he was cold and calculating. It was a wild one-eighty from the guy I’d seen last night, putting together a chair with a magnifying monocle on a headset. Adorable, in the dorkiest of ways. He’d started showing me his finished items instead of just looking at my kits. Turns out, the only craft I liked was the paint-by-number, but the felting was pretty fun, so I’d started another. This time it was a dog with a jaunty scarf.

He’d been up and gone this morning before I was even awake, but he’d left a note on the kitchen counter saying he’d be home early.

Without really thinking about it, I hadn’t veered toward the cottage. Instead, I headed straight for the front door of the main house and let myself inside. I heard Emmie on the phone in the back of the house and followed the sound. I paused briefly at the doorway before he looked up from his call and gave me a brilliant smile. He turned in his chair, and my lungs froze.

Holy God, this man was sexy. The intelligent eyes, the dark hair always styled so perfectly, except when it was the two of us puttering around the workshop.

He hadn’t changed out of his suit yet. He spread his legs and lifted his hand, curling his fingers slightly in a silent invitation. I followed it. He pulled me onto his lap.

I tried to keep my weight off him, but he looked at me through narrowed eyes and tugged me closer. I gave up trying to preserve his furniture and relaxed into the moment. Whatever he was talking about had something to do with scheduling, but I wasn’t really listening. My head rested on Emmie’s shoulder, and his steady breathing lulled me into a calm I couldn’t remember ever having.

“Hey, how was your class?” Emmie asked when the call ended.

“It was really cool. We learned why you should always go with seasonal flowers instead of shipping when possible.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. Did you get to arrange anything?”

“I did. Putting together an arrangement is better than any fidget I’ve ever used.”

“Good thing you saw that flyer.”

“Good thing I have an understanding boss who lets me take off in the middle of the week.”

I expected him to chuckle, but instead he said, “Speaking of business, I have a speech I need to give on Friday. What time is your class? I really want you to be there.”

“Class is at nine-thirty, but I can skip it.”

“No, that’s perfect. It’s an hour and a half, right?” At my nod, he continued, “I’ll pick you up at eleven. We’ll head straight to the ferry, do a pedestrian crossing so we don’t risk missing it with the car, and I’ll have an Uber waiting on the other side. We’ll be there by noon, easy.”

“That’s a lot of moving parts just to make sure I can go with you. I can skip the class. It’s not a big deal.”

“That class is important to you,” Emmie said firmly, “and that makes it important to me. You’re not skipping it. I can work the schedule around it, and that’s the end of that.”

Jonah’s words echoed in my head.

Never in my life, in any relationship, had my schedule been the priority.

I replayed my walk home. Rather than the cottage, I’d come straight to the main house and let myself inside without knocking. Instead of announcing myself, I’d wandered through the space as if I belonged there.

With Emmie.

Like he was home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

EMIL

Can you add the other Daddies to this chat for me?

Reed

No problem. What’s up? Anders all right?

Gabe

It’s Gabe. Rory has been so worried about him.