Page 28 of The Heir

Shad chuckled.

“I’m glad you like it, Emma.” He drove through town, toward our neighborhood, and I couldn't help but look at him as he drove. It was a manual, and he drove the car so effortlessly. I envied him; I could not drive a manual to save my life. We pulled into his driveway, and he asked me to wait a moment as he got out of his car and walked around to my side and opened the door for me. My heart fluttered. Why did Ryker think that Shad was like other guys? He was a complete and total gentleman.

“Thank you,” I said. As I got out of the car. Shad closed the door behind me with a smile and brushed his hair back before he grabbed both of our backpacks from the back seat and carried them with him as we walked to his front door.

“Is your guardian home? My aunt wanted to make sure we weren't home alone. It isn’t like anything is going to happen, or—but she just said that because we are young, and we need to make sure that we are—” I stopped myself by covering my mouth with my hand. I felt my cheeks heat up, my eyes wide at my embarrassing rambling. Shad touched the hand I used to cover my mouth with his own, tugging it away.

“All seems reasonable, you don’t need to be embarrassed, and, yes, my guardian is here.” He set the backpacks down by the door, and I tried to take deep breaths to stop myself from spouting off more nonsense.

“This way, Emma,” he said, pointing in front of him, down the hall. It was an average house, just like mine—a different layout, tidy, and simply decorated. As we walked into the living room, there was a man sitting on the couch, reading a book. He had dark brown hair, glasses that covered up his eyes, and a smile upon his face as his eyes met mine.

“You must be Emma; it is truly an honor to meet you, my dear.” He held my hand and made a little bow, and I looked at Shad with confusion.

He shrugged and grinned, as if it was just a quirk that was common for his guardian.

“It is great to meet you,” I said with a smile.

“This is Keil, my guardian. Keil, this is Emma,” Shad said happily.

“I hear that Shad is going to show you his roses?”

“Yes, I believe so,” I answered.

“Yes, Keil. We will be down in a little while. We will be in the study,” Shad said.

“Yes, of course. Have a good time,” he smiled and sat back down as we headed upstairs. It turned out that the study was a very large room, probably the master bedroom with every wall lined in books. In the center of the room sat a large table with some chairs around it. In one corner, there was a computer, and in the other, a stack of paper and other office supplies.

“Wow, you have so many books,” I mostly whispered in awe as I traced the letters with my pointer finger down the spines of a few of the books as I walked past.

“Keil enjoys reading.”

“You don’t?”

“I do, but these are mostly his collection. I keep mine in my room.” He motioned for me to sit at the table. I sat down, and he pulled out a small leather-bound book. I watched as he opened it to the first page. There in beautiful cursive letters, it read:“My search for the rose.”I traced the beautiful writing with my finger.

“It is beautiful.” I looked up at Shad. He looked at me, his eyes intently watching as if he were curious about my reaction. I turned the page. There were about twenty pages that were bound together at the beginning of the book.

“Oh, those first few pages, they are just some journal entries, boring stuff really.” He reached down to turn the pages. He stopped when he reached the desired page. There was a single rose pressed into the paper, some of the color from it bleeding onto the page, I assumed from being partially damp when it was pressed in order to preserve the blossom. It was absolutely beautiful. As I flipped through the pages, I noticed that written across each page was the name of a city or town where the flower was obtained. There were dozens and dozens of roses, all beautifully preserved within that book.

“This is incredible. You did this?” I asked.

“When we move, which as you can tell is often, I find a rose and press it into this book.” I turned to the last pages which were all blank.

“You still need a rose from here,” I said, looking at him. His eyes were so intently focused on me that I could barely catch my breath. He was so incredibly good looking. He touched my hand and smiled softly. I loved the feel of his hand on mine. Electricity pulsed between us, and again, I wanted more, wanted to really touch him. I wondered then what it would feel like if he entangled his fingers with mine. Heat came to my cheeks, and I cursed my fair skin because I was sure that I was blushing red.

“I plan on going by a shop I know to collect that missing flower, after I decide on the right color.” He smiled, and I dropped my gaze. I turned the pages again, examining the flowers even closer, naming them as I went. Shad went to the opposite table and brought back a pen.

“Why roses?” I asked, touching a pressed, pink blossom.

“They are beautiful flowers.” He shrugged as if he could have made the same book from daisies. I doubted that.

“But only roses?” I asked, flipping through more pages. “You could have had some variety. Peonies, for example, are very beautiful, too.”

“Yes, but they had to be roses, Emma.” His voice was husky, and I felt his breath near my ear. I tried to steady my shaking hand by grasping his book.

“Would you mind writing down what you know? It would be a great addition to the book, his low voice made my stomach flip.

I was frozen to the spot as I felt his breath caress my cheek. I wanted to jump into his arms, wanted to feel his lips meet mine. I pushed those thoughts down and gulped. “O—oh, my writing would make it ugly. Your cursive is beautiful.” I traced the curls and dips on the page with my fingertips, trying to distract myself from the electric fire that his close proximity lit inside of me. “I wish I could write like that.”

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