Page 161 of Stolen Moments

Emery: It’s too early for this.

Mason: Grouch.

Emery: Says the broody brother.

Mason: That’s two.

Emery: Two what?

Mason: …

Emery: Mason? Two what?

Mason: Go check by your front door.

Emery: Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.

Mason: I’m not doing anything.

Emery: **picture of box**

Emery: What is it?

Mason: Open it.

Emery: You bought me new boxing gloves.

Mason: Do you like them?

Emery: Love them. How did you know I needed a new pair?

Mason: I figured you might have worn out the last pair picturing my face while you beat the punching bag

Emery: Cute.

Emery: Thank you.

Mason: You’re welcome. I’ll be home soon. Love you.

Emery: Home?

Chapter fifty-two

Mason

I purposefully ignore Emery’slast text about home, dropping my phone on the bed with a smile. It’s going to drive her crazy, but I need to finish packing the two suitcases I’m taking with me to Portland.

Everything else is packed and ready to be shipped. My mom—the saint of a woman she is—helped me pack up my house yesterday. Everything I will need is ready to be shipped north when the sale of my Pine Hills house goes through.

Yep. I bought a house two blocks from Jace and Rylann. It’s still pending, but I couldn’t pass it up. I made an offer on the place after my hike with Emery. I was driving Rhys back home when I saw theFor Salesign on the front yard of a cute little white ranch. I called the realtor, who surprisingly answered on New Year’s Day, and immediately set up a viewing. I made an offer, and the owners accepted.

The four-bedroom, three-bathroom home is a fixer-upper but has great bones. It’s the perfect size to raise a family. If Emery prefers to stay at her place, I’m good with that too. She holds all the cards. I want her to be happy, and she deserves the freedom to choose.

But the family? That’s non-negotiable. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since Emery asked if I wanted to have kids. I almost proposed to her on the spot, but I could tell shefreaked herself out. Since then, I’ve imagined her belly swollen with our babies growing inside her. Little girls that look like her, with caramel-brown hair and topaz-colored eyes.

Cameron honks the horn just as I zip my case. I grab my bags, lock up my house, throw my bags in the trunk, and slide into Cam’s Mercedes G-Class. He’s my ride to the airport since I opted to sell my car back to the dealership yesterday.

“Sup, bro? Are you all set?”

---