Page 162 of Stolen Moments

“Yup. I’m ready.”

“Have you told her yet?”

“No. I was waiting until our first date.”

“Smooth.”

I rest my head back against the seat, second-guessing my decision to keep the house a surprise. “Should I have told her? Do you think she’s going to be pissed I didn’t tell her sooner?”

“Nah. You’re good. It’s a panty-melting grand gesture. She’s going to love it. Just don’t ask her to move in right away. You don’t want to come off as a desperate, needy simp.”

I groan. “Fuck. Am I really that pathetic?”

Cameron chuckles. “A little. But when it’s for love, you can’t go wrong. Look at Jace. He’s the biggest simp I know, and he’s happy as fuck. Plus, he has a fucking hot wife, so being a simp can’t be that bad, can it?”

I bark a laugh. “If Jace were here, he’d kick your ass for calling Rylann hot.”

“But he’s not.” Cameron turns up the radio and takes the freeway to L.A. International Airport.

I knock on Emery’s door, making Henry bark.

My girl doesn’t know I got back into town today. I wanted to surprise her myself with dinner tonight—tacos from BlueCantina, which I’ve been craving since the rehearsal dinner. Bonus, Mexican food is Emery’s favorite.

For the last few days, I have had dinner delivered to her. She’s been busy covering for Rylann, who left on her honeymoon with Jace, and I wanted to make sure she didn’t have to think about anything after a long day of work—my way of taking care of her while I’m away.

So far, every meal has been a reminder of meals we’ve shared or talked about. Reminders of us. I’m trying to recreate all the special moments we’ve shared together, molding them into new memories. Memories untainted by our mistakes.

She swings open the door, knocking the breath from my lungs. I caught her at the perfect time. Her face is free of makeup, her hair is tied into a side braid, and she’s changed from her work clothes into her favorite old UNY flannel pants and an eerily familiar gray dress shirt. A shirt I have been missing and couldn’t remember where I left it.

I love knowing that she’s had it all this time. A piece of me was still with her, even when I wasn’t. I hope she wore it and missed me as much as I missed her. I did some pretty unconscionable things to sate my need to know how she was doing.

“Hello, baby doll.” My face splits into a grin.

She looks motherfucking gorgeous in my clothes. Like mine.

“Mason, what are you doing here?” She tugs at the shirt’s collar.

“I’m here to deliver your dinner.” I hold up the white paper takeout bag in my hand.

She takes it from me and peeks inside the bag that contains chicken tacos, rice and beans, and a side of guacamole and chips. I may have left my burrito in the bag in hopes of a dinner invitation. She closes the bag and looks up at me with a wide smile that makes my heart grow two sizes as it beats wildly in my chest.

She so fucking pretty.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

“I wanted to. I want to take care of you.”

Emery surprises me by wrapping her arms around my waist. Her sweet scent invades my nose as I hug her back, pulling her tight to my chest. Her nearness soothes the jagged pieces inside me that have longed for her to be in my arms again.

“I missed you so fucking much, baby doll.”

I’ve hated being away from her these last few days. Texting wasn’t near enough. Hell, it wasn’t enough before everything turned to shit, but I can’t dive back in head first.

At least, she can’t. She needs to ease back into the waters, so to speak. I don’t want to scare her off, but I’m ready for more of her, being with her, by her side, in her bed. I’d chain myself to her if it wasn’t considered crazy.

But I am crazy. Crazy for Emery. It feels fantastic having my girl back in my arms.

She releases me first and pulls me inside her home. It’s warm and smells just like her, sweet and fruity. I stand by the door and watch her ass sway as she walks to the kitchen, and then places the bag of food on the counter.

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