Page 87 of The Vineyard Crush

As I close the door, I’m hit with a wave of gratitude for my brother. Despite his gruff exterior, James has been my rock through everything – the divorce, becoming a single dad, and now, falling in love again. He was the first person I told about my plans to propose, and his response had been typically James: “About damn time. Now stop overthinking it and just ask her already.”

Back in the kitchen, I layer the pancakes with Biscoff spread, creating a tower worthy of Emma’s sweet tooth. A single candle crowns the stack, waiting to be lit. But first, I need to make sure Emma’s decent – Lily has a habit of bursting into our room unannounced, especially on special occasions.

I take the stairs two at a time, slipping back into our bedroom. Emma’s curled on her side, the covers tangled around her bare legs. My breath catches at the sight of her, vulnerable and beautiful in the soft morning light. Her hair fans out on the pillow, a halo of chestnut waves, and I’m struck once again by how lucky I am.

“Em,” I murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. My fingers linger on her cheek, savouring the warmth of her skin. “Time to wake up, birthday girl.”

Her eyelids flutter, a sleepy smile curving her lips. “Five more minutes,” she mumbles, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

I chuckle, dropping a kiss on her forehead. The scent of her shampoo – lavender and vanilla – fills my senses. “Lily will be in here any second. You might want to put some clothes on.”

Emma’s eyes snap open, sudden awareness chasing away the last vestiges of sleep. She sits up, clutching the sheet to her chest, and I can’t help but admire the way it clings to her curves.

“Shit,” she mutters, fumbling for the oversize t-shirt draped over the headboard. It’s one of mine, worn and soft with age. “Thanks for the warning.”

I help her slip the shirt over her head, my fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long on her skin. Emma’s eyes meet mine, a spark of heat igniting between us. The air feels charged, electric with possibility.

“Later,” she promises, her voice husky. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb tracing my stubbled jaw. “After cake and presents.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I’ll head back down and finish breakfast. Try to act surprised when Lily barges in, okay?”

Emma’s laughter follows me out of the room, a melody that fills my heart to bursting. As I descend the stairs, I pat my pocket, feeling the outline of the ring box. Today is the day I ask Emma to be my forever. The thought both terrifies and exhilarates me, much like falling in love with her did. But as I reach the kitchen and hear the patter of little feet upstairs, I know with absolute certainty that this is right. This is home.

I’ve barely finished arranging the breakfast tray when I hear the telltale giggling and shushing from the hallway. Lily appears in the doorway, her eyes bright with excitement, Cody and Avery close behind.

“Is it time, Daddy?” Lily stage-whispers, practically vibrating with anticipation.

I nod, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Remember, let Emma blow out the candle before you start singing, okay?”

They nod solemnly, though I can see Avery’s little lips already forming the words of “Happy Birthday.” I light the candle on the stack of pancakes, and we begin our procession up the stairs.

As we near our bedroom door, I can hear Emma moving around inside, no doubt trying to make herself presentable. I give a soft knock before pushing the door open.

“Happy birthday!” we all chorus as we enter. Emma is sitting up in bed, her hair hastily pulled back, wearing my old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts she must have found. Her eyes widen at the sight of us, and I have to hand it to her – she really does look surprised.

“Oh my goodness,” she gasps, a hand flying to her chest. “You guys, this is amazing!”

Lily can’t contain herself any longer. She launches into “Happy Birthday,” her voice ringing out clear and strong. Cody and Avery join in, their voices a sweet counterpoint to their sister’s enthusiasm. I set the tray across Emma’s lap as the song finishes, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Make a wish,” I murmur, nodding towards the flickering candle.

Emma closes her eyes for a moment, her face serene, before leaning forward to blow out the candle. The kids cheer, and Emma laughs, the sound pure joy.

“Thank you all so much,” she says, her eyes misty. “This is the best birthday ever.”

Lily and Avery climb onto the bed, snuggling up to Emma’s side. “We made you cards too!” she announces proudly. “Can we give them to her now, Daddy?”

I nod, and the kids present their homemade cards with great ceremony. Emma oohs and aahs over each one, praising their artwork and reading aloud the heartfelt messages inside. As I watch her interact with my children – our children, really – I feel a lump form in my throat. This is everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I never thought I’d have again after Melissa left.

Once the excitement of the cards has died down, I shoo the kids out of the room. “Let’s let Emma enjoy her breakfast in peace,” I tell them. “We’ll do presents later, okay?”

They file out, albeit reluctantly, and I turn back to Emma. She’s already digging into the pancakes, a smear of Biscoff spread on her chin. I chuckle, reaching out to wipe it away with my thumb.

“Good?” I ask, already knowing the answer from the blissful expression on her face.

She nods enthusiastically, swallowing before speaking. “Amazing. You spoil me, Ridge.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, watching her eat. “You deserve to be spoiled, Em. Especially today.”

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