Page 90 of Stolen Moments

Accepting the guy’s directions, I follow the hallway to the back of Emery’s home. About a minute passes, and as he said, a dark wood door with more ironwork comes into view. Behind the entrance, I can hear raised voices but the words are muffled, making it hard to discern what’s being said.

Lifting my hand to knock, the door swings open, and a body collides with mine. A body I know as intimately as my own.

Emery gasps, shocked at walking into me and my surprise presence. Instinctively, my arms wrap around her waist, holding her tightly to my chest. Over her head, I see a man and a woman—who I assume are her parents—standing behind a large antique oak desk.

Emery grips my forearms, and my eyes find her wide topaz gaze on mine. My heart rate slows now that I have her in my arms.

She looks over her shoulder and shakes her head before focusing back on me. “Let’s get out of here.”

She steps out of my hold and laces her fingers with mine, pulling me away from the office and the people in it. Emery leads me down the halls, through the kitchen, and onto the back deck overlooking the great lawns covered in white tents and people.

I step toward the railing and watch servers carrying food and drinks hustle about, while people—dressed in what I can only describe as expensive yacht-wear—mill about, chatting.

I shake my head. I can’t believe this is where Emery grew up. It seems so contrary to the woman I’ve gotten to know and fallen in love with.

“Wow, this is … something.” My stomach tightens as unsettling thoughts start to form in my head.

Why did she keep all this from me?

“Yeah.” She steps beside me as the breeze catches her hair, whipping it around. The scent of vanilla and pears I’ve come to crave does little to soothe my racing heart.

“Emery—”

She cuts me off, her eyes glassing over. “Not here, please.”

I nod as she laces her fingers through mine and leads me down a hidden staircase, to the boat deck sitting above a boat garage and private dock. She takes a seat on the bench by the balustrade overlooking the Long Island Sound. I take the seat next to her and pull her close. She rests her head on my shoulder as we watch various-sized boats and mini yachts float along the water, waiting out the time until the fireworks.

“Mason, what are you doing here?” she asks, breaking the silence.

Tilting her chin up, I stare into her eyes. “I came for you. It sounded like you were crying when we spoke this morning. I was worried about you.” I brush my thumb across her temptingly sweet, pouty bottom lip. “The thought of you being sad and alone killed me, so I hopped on a plane. I want to be the person supporting you when you need it most.”

“I don’t know what to say. No one has ever shown up for me before. I—” Tears leak out the corner of her eyes, the streams glistening down her cheek in the moonlight.

“Shh. I’m here.” It breaks my heart that she’s been alone in her struggles.

Not anymore.

With my thumbs, I wipe away her tears and press my mouth to hers. She tastes sweet, like champagne and all her. She melts in myarms, letting out a soft moan as I deepen the kiss, exploring her mouth with mine. My cock stirs to life as her hands slide up my arms and her fingers snake through the ends of my hair.

Emery kisses me back, but the eagerness at which she returns the kiss scares me. It feels frantic, like she’s afraid I might evaporate into thin air.

Pushing past my apprehension, I let Emery take over. Based on the loud voices I heard before she came barreling out the door, something must have happened with her parents.

A throat clears, breaking us apart. When I glance over at the intruder, it’s the same guy who told me where I could find Emery. Dropping my hands from her waist, I stand.

“Lex, what are you doing down here?”She stands up, gripping my hand in hers.

Lex? What kind of a name is that?

My hackles rise as her eyes nervously bounce between me and Mr. Fancy Suit.

Who the fuck is this guy? And who the fuck wears a suit to a Fourth of July party?

A pretentious asshole, that’s who.

My earlier sympathies slip away as his demeanor changes before me.

He tugs at his tie, pulling his shoulders back, attempting to exude confidence. “I didn’t realize you had company. I know you like to sit down here when things get … hectic.” He turns to me and smirks. “If you’ll excuse us, I need a word with my fiancée.”

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