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The tentative swipe of her tongue against mine has the power to make me lose my mind, and that’s why I pull away rather than continuing.
I’m fucking breathless as I pull back and press my lips to her cheek.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
It isn’t until her fingers flex that I realize she’s clasped both hands in the fabric of my shirt. My arm is around her back, our bodies only a breath away.
“I’m not sorry,” she says, the grip of her fingers tugging against my clothes when I take a step back.
“You should go,” I tell her, more than half of me wishing she’d refuse.
This won’t go the way it probably should if she can’t be the stronger person right now. I know my limitations, and fighting this insistent urge to get her under me is only going to last so long.
“I don’t want to,” she whispers, but she takes a step back, her reluctant fingers taking even longer to release my shirt.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Hopefully,” she says before turning to walk back down the hallway.
The sound of the outside world doesn’t come back into focus until after she’s disappeared around the corner. The party is still going. People are chatting. There’s soft music playing from the stereo system.
I heard none of it the entire time she was in front of me.
I’m in so much damned trouble.
Chapter 19
Devyn
“I love the excitement,” Em says as I follow her into the clubhouse.
I don’t bother trying to resist rubbing my hands together. She told me several items were delivered earlier this morning.
We head down the hallway to the area known as the old rooms, despite them looking amazing. I should know. I cleaned three of them earlier this week.
“Did someone put them in one of the bedrooms?” I ask because I figured we’d head to the living room or the front porch. I was already trying to figure out how I was going to get the embroidery machine up the stairs in Em’s house. If I move the dresser in there over a few feet, I will have room to set it up. I measured yesterday to make sure I had enough room.
“I had Emmett put them in here,” she says, reaching for the doorknob to one of the rooms I didn’t clean.
I step around her into the room, but it looks nothing like the three nearly identical rooms I helped freshen up a few days ago. There’s no bed. In its place is a sturdy-looking worktable with several packages spread out on it.
“We figured you needed a little room to spread out. Plus, you need personal time. From what I already know about you, you’d never take that time if your work was surrounding you in your bedroom.”
I scan the room, my mind already evaluating how I can set it up to get the most use out of the space.
“Emmett said he’d put the tables together,” Em says, pointing to the corner of the room my eyes haven’t made it to yet. “The other things are purchases from investors that you’ll need to be successful.”
I read the side of a thread rack box, realizing there is so much I didn’t even realize I’d need.
“It’s too much,” I whisper.
“Your work is going to pay for all of this. It isn’t a handout,” Em explains. “Khloe’s dress is hanging in the closet for that order. You have a box there that has fabric in it, and I suspect it’s for the matching pajamas you’re making for the Polar Express event.”
I look toward the point of her finger, wanting to squeal in delight at the sight of the huge box. I’ve never been able to order entire bolts of fabric before.
“And the cutting table has an arm that pulls out when you need it and folds away when not in use so you have more space in the room.”
“Em,” I whisper, my eyes burning with tears. “I don’t know how to say thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” she says, waving her hand at me despite the wetness of her own eyes.
I shake my head. “It’s everything to me.”
I take a chance, stepping closer and wrapping my arms around her. A sob bubbles out of my throat when she wraps her arms all the way around me and holds me to her chest. It’s everything I didn’t know I needed. Her motherly attention feeds that part of me that has gone so long without it.
Em doesn’t budge or grow fidgety. She simply holds on to me as long as I hold on to her. When I step back, she swipes at the tears on my cheeks before palming my face in both hands.
“I have no idea what you’ve been through, but you deserve success. There isn’t one person who helped invest in this that doubts your abilities.”
I nod, accepting her words because she’s never given me any reason not to.
