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Fuck this.
I stride out of the shadows. If I were a decent man, I’d apologize for our intense encounter at the church. But I’m not sorry, and I hate lying to people I love.
The grass mutes my footsteps, not giving her a warning. A loud snap breaks the silence. I kick the offending twig out of my way. Emily’s head jerks toward the sound. She gasps.
Shit. I didn’t want to scare her.
A flicker of a smile teases the corners of her mouth as our eyes meet. Then it’s gone. She locks down her expression, chasing any emotion away.
Wary hazel eyes bore into me as I stop in front of her.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” Damn, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.
She blinks up at me as if she’s not sure I’m real.
Her fingers curl tighter around the ropes. “Do you know Gray put this up for Serena? She mentioned how much she missed her childhood swing set after one of her parents’ moves. And he installed this for her. A peaceful little area of the yard just for her.” She sighs and her smile returns. “Isn’t that the sweetest?”
No response comes to me. Sweet and Grinder aren’t two words I’d normally put in the same sentence. If I were Z, I’d be preparing to use this information to hassle Grinder later. Who am I kidding? Z and all the other happy homemaking dads probably came over to help Grinder secure the swing to the tree.
“I’m not surprised,” I finally say.
“When I met her—” Emily’s voice catches and she shakes her head. “Well, whatever forces in the universe brought them together, I’m thankful.”
So am I. They brought me to you.
“I am too. She’s given him everything he thought he lost. And fuck,” I let out a harsh laugh, “I never, ever thought someone would call Grinder sweet.”
A teasing glint sparks in her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I tilt my head, eyeing the swing. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I needed some air.” Her gaze drops to the grass. “It’s been a long day.”
“You changed.” I nod to her sweater and jeans. “I should’ve done the same.”
She flicks her gaze up again, then slowly slides it over my body. “No. You look good.”
The first flicker of doubt about us creeps over me. Would Emily rather date a suit and tie type of guy? That’s not me. Never will be.
I study her under the faint moonlight. No. She’s not a shallow person. Clothes have nothing to do with what’s driving our separation. “Thanks.”
She rests her hand on the space next to her. “Do you want to join me?”
My heart thumps but I keep my expression neutral. “I don’t think we’ll both fit.”
She slides to the right, scrunching tight to make room but tipping the swing off balance in the process. My hand shoots out, wrapping around the opposite side to keep it steady.
“You’re having trouble steering this thing.” I squeeze into the empty space, then before she has a chance to protest, I curl my arm around her waist and pull her to me. I slide into the center of the swing, leaving no room for her to sit anywhere else but my lap.
Oh, fuck. Maybe this was a bad idea. She feels so fucking perfect against me. Her hair tickles my nose. I inhale whatever soft, floral scent she’s wearing today. Different from her usual citrus and vanilla fragrance. I’ve fucking missed her so much. My fingers twitch, eager to sweep her hair to the side and kiss her neck, suck on it like an obsessed vampire who’s been reunited with his forever-mate after a couple of long, cold centuries.
Instead, I wrap my hand around one of the ropes. Don’t want to spook her. She hasn’t jumped out of my lap and run away yet. That’s a good sign. I secure my other arm around her waist, anchoring her to me. “Hold on.”
She grabs the ropes as I dig my feet into the ground and push, push, push us all the way back, then let gravity take over, swinging us forward.
Laughter rushes out of her and twists into my soul. I love that sound. Want to make her do it all the time.
“See, this is how it’s done, firecracker,” I say against her ear.
Her hand slips on the rope, brushing against mine. “I know how it’s done.”
Maybe she meant to be sarcastic but her low, husky voice is anything but.
I’m not going to push, plead or beg her to change her mind. I said what I needed to say earlier.
Emily’s a smart woman. She knows what I want. Why I’m here.
“Dex.” She struggles to turn or slide out of my lap.
I wrap my free arm around her tighter. “Shh.”
“But I—” Her voice is full of apologies and excuses.
