“Are you sure?”
“I am.” She leaned over and stroked his cheek. “Thank you for all of this. It’s perfect.”
Her reassuring touch settled his thoughts. Letting out a breath, he smiled. “It’s me who needs to thank you.”
“Don’t be silly,” she laughed. “Thank me for what?”
“For everything, Emily,” he replied, his voice and eyes soft. She looked at him, her movements stilled by his tone. “Thank you for falling in love with me. Thank you for sharing yourself with me. God, thank you for not wanting to fucking kill me every time I pursued you during all of this. I know I put you in a bad position, but I couldn’t…” He paused, drawing in a long breath as he looked down to his plate. When he brought his gaze back to hers, he could see tears brimming in her eyes. “I just couldn’t stay away from you,” he whispered. “I felt you the second you walked into my building. Hell, I think I felt you before you walked in. I’ve never experienced anything like that before in my life. It all flashed in front of me—marriage, kids, growing old together. You pulled me in, and I knew…I just knew right then that we were supposed to be together.”
Now she moved to him, uncaring of knocking anything over this time. She sat up on her knees and inched her way across the blanket where she snuggled herself in his lap. Draping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down to her mouth. Any and all doubts she had that he wouldn’t be able to endure what they were about to go through together evaporated from her mind.
Vanished. Poof. Gone.
“You’re crying,” he whispered over her lips, wiping a tear from her cheek. She smiled, and Gavin let out a light chuckle. “I always manage to make you cry.”
“These are definitely good tears this time, Gavin,” she said, sniffling as she laughed.
“And that’s all they’ll ever be.” He leaned down to kiss her. “I swear to God that’s all they’ll ever be, Emily.”
Still sitting in his lap, she reached for a pair of chopsticks and plucked a roll out of one of the tins. “Open up,” she said, holding it to his mouth. “I want to feed you.”
He did as she asked, smiling while he chewed. “I can get used to this.”
“I bet you could,” she laughed.
“But of course.” He lifted his glass of wine to his lips and took a sip. “I’ll take more,” he said, opening his mouth wide.
She giggled and reached for another, popping it into his mouth. “Can I ask you something, Mr. Blake?”
“Anything.”
“Have you been to all of these places?” With the sweep of her hand, she motioned to some of the pictures on the walls.
Swallowing, he took a second to look at some of them. He nodded. “I have actually. I went to study them.”
“For school? I thought you took business management.”
“I did take business management,” he said, smiling. “But I originally wanted to become an architect. I’m fascinated with the way things are created—from stories in books to buildings.” He traced the curve of her jaw, down to her collarbone, and then over her shoulder. She smiled at him. “I find it amazing that a thought in someone’s mind can turn into something so beautiful and so life changing—just from a simple vision or idea.”
“Why didn’t you go to school for that then?”
His gaze swept over the pictures again for a moment. “After my grandmother on my father’s side passed away, Colton and I were each left a considerable inheritance. He came to me wanting to open Blake Industries.” Reaching for another piece of sushi, he popped it into his mouth and shrugged. “He needed my half of the inheritance to start it up. Instead of becoming a silent partner as we had originally discussed, I went in as part owner. Essentially, the advertising industry creates things, so I figured why not—and besides, it was something he really wanted, and I didn’t want to let him down.”
Emily looked up to him, cupping her hand over his cheek. “You did it for him.”
“Kind of.” He smiled. “But I’d never let the prick know that.”
“Do you like it though? I mean, are you actually happy doing it?”
“I’m happy with how successful we eventually became.” Quirking a brow, he smirked. “And I don’t usually go into work until ten in the morning most days, so that’s a plus.”
“Lucky you. I wish I could go in that late,” she laughed. “But you didn’t answer my question, Blake.” He smiled, and she adjusted herself in his lap. “Are you actually happy doing it?”
“You want honesty?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m shooting for here,” she laughed.
“I hate it. It bores me pretty close to death.”
“You should be happy with what you do for a living,” she said, leaning up to kiss him. “Have you ever thought about selling your portion off?”
Stroking the hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead. “I have, and I will eventually. Considering we just got her back on her feet again within the last few years, I want to make sure she’s solid before I do.”
“You’re a good brother, you know that?”
“Oh, I’m as pretty fucking cool as they come.” They both laughed, and Gavin pulled her closer. “Enough about me. What made you decide on a career in teaching?”
“Well, I’m dyslexic actually. When I was growing up, I attended a school that either didn’t recognize that I had it or didn’t have the staff that was able to help me.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “Other kids made fun of me because it kept me from advancing in my studies to a point. With that, as I struggled through high school, I decided that I wanted to become a teacher because us dyslexic folk can notice right away when a child has it. I figured if I could help just one kid get diagnosed early on, it would be worth it.”
He stared at her for a few seconds and smiled. “You know, you’re as pretty cool as they come.”
“Oh, am I?” she asked, laughing. “I’ve never been referred to as cool. Ever.”
He gently pulled her up and positioned her legs around his waist. Stroking his hands through her hair, he brushed his lips against hers. “Yes. You’re undoubtedly the coolest woman I know,” he said, sucking on her bottom lip. She smiled. “And I promise to always refer to you as being cool.”
“Well, thank you for that.” She laughed against his mouth. “And I promise to always refer to you as a wiseass.”
“Mmm, you have my permission to call me whatever you want.”
She smiled and continued to indulge in his overly skilled mouth.
After a few minutes, Gavin pulled back, the proverbial “elephant in the room” resting heavy on his chest. “Could I ask you a question now?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, placing a kiss on his jaw.
“How are we going about telling Dillon?” Gavin felt her body tense as she bit her lip. He brought his hand around the back of her neck and cautiously coaxed her face within inches of his, his eyes soft. “Emily,” he whispered. “We. I said we. I’m not letting you tell him alone, do you understand me?”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. “I do, but could we not talk about him right now?”
Gavin searched her eyes. He could tell she was nervous, and he knew the risk she was taking was far greater than his was—but he also felt confused at that point. “We have to talk about him, Emily.”
“I know we do,” she answered, lifting her hands to his cheeks. “It’s just that he doesn’t get back until Tuesday. It’s Sunday night, and I just want right here and now to be about you and me. Not him…just us, Gavin.” She found his perfect mouth again and kissed him ferociously with nothing more than wanting to rid Dillon from her thoughts. Gavin tightened his hold around her waist and groaned into her mouth. She slowly pulled back and looked at him. “Tomorrow night, okay? We’ll go over everything tomorrow night.”
“Alright, but you have to swear to me that you won’t say anything to him before.” He smoothed his hands through her hair. “I want to be there. Again, this is us.”