Page 40 of Flare
“So what happened with your dad?” Emily prompted.
“I thought he’d be so disappointed when I told him I wanted to study construction technology instead of pre-law,” Ward admitted.“I’d been dreading that conversation for months. But when I finally got up the courage to tell him…” He shook his head, still amazed at the memory.“He just nodded and asked what schools I was considering.”
“That’s wonderful,” Emily said.
“It was. I’m grateful my parents let me and Ellie do our own thing, figure out who we are.” Ward realized how lucky he was, especially compared to what Emily had gone through.“Not everyone gets that kind of understanding.”
Emily nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face.“And then what happened?”
“After I finished all the requirements for a journeyman carpenter, I came back here and started working as a subcontractor for Dad’s cousin Tyler. I also started taking independent jobs here and there between construction gigs—deck repairs, built-in bookshelves, that kind of thing.” Ward enjoyed telling her about his journey.“Now I’m doing full-scale renovations of historic buildings and building furniture. Just finished a set of custom bookshelves last weekend for someone up in Missoula.”
“That’s amazing, Ward,” Emily said, and the sincerity in her voice made his chest feel warm.“Have you ever thought about opening a showroom? Maybe here on Main Street? I noticed that the old video rental place is still for rent.”
“I’ve thought about it once or twice,” Ward admitted.“But I’m not sure there’s enough demand for custom furniture to warrant renting a place. Maybe if I added architectural salvage pieces…” He trailed off, thinking.“Yeah, that might work. Thanks to thatReviving Snowberry Springsshow, everyone these days is crazy for things like antique fireplace mantels and vintage double-hung windows. Maybe if I combined the retail space with my workshop?”
“I think that’s a great idea. Do you have a website?”
As they continued to discuss how to expand his carpentry business, Ward noticed how Emily asked thoughtful questions, listened intently to his answers, and then came up with great ideas.
He was struck by how easy it was to talk to her. They’d known each other since they were kids, of course, but this was different. He’d been so tongue-tied whenever he was around her, they’d never had an actual conversation like this before.
By the time Justin brought out the blueberry-lavender cobbler, they were leaning toward each other across the table, their fingers inches apart on the weathered wood as Emily sketched out her idea for a website layout. Ward had never felt so connected to another person.
His bear wanted to claim her on the spot, to protect her, to erase all memory of the man who’d hurt her. But the man in Ward knew that healing took time.
As Emily scooped up a bite of cobbler, her eyes meeting his over her spoon, Ward decided that time was something he had plenty of. He’d wait for her, however long it took.
∞∞∞
It had cooled considerably by the time they left the restaurant. Ward walked beside Emily, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body but not quite touching her.
Main Street was deserted now, most of the stores closed for the evening. The festival banners fastened to the lampposts fluttered gently in the breeze, and the scent of the lilac bushes in the planters lining the curbs perfumed the air. Tonight, his senses felt heightened, cataloging every detail of his time with Emily.
“My car’s parked behind the bakery,” she said, gesturing toward Cinnamon + Sugar’s darkened windows across the street.
“I’ll walk you,” Ward offered immediately.
They crossed Main Street together, their shoulders occasionally brushing. Each accidental contact sent a jolt of awareness through Ward’s body. His bear stirred restlessly, wanting more—wanting to touch her, hold her, claim her.
Cinnamon + Sugar’s small parking lot was empty except for Emily’s Subaru, parked next to the bakery’s back door. Their footsteps crunched on the gravel as they approached the car.
Emily turned to face him, her blonde hair silvered by the lamplight.“Thank you for tonight,” she said.“I had a great time.”
“Me too,” Ward said.“Best ribs I’ve ever had at Justin’s.” He paused, then added with a grin,“And the company wasn’t bad either.”
Emily laughed.“High praise from a Swanson.”
Ward felt himself leaning closer, drawn by something beyond his control. Emily’s laughter faded, her eyes widening slightly as she recognized his intent. She didn’t move away.
“Ward,” she murmured, his name a question and a prayer all at once.
The last threads of his self-control snapped.
Ward drew her into his arms, one hand sliding through her silky hair to cradle the back of her head as his mouth found hers. Her lips were soft, tasting faintly of blueberries and vanilla from the cobbler. For one heart-stopping moment, she froze in his embrace.
Oh God. Did I move too fast? Have I fucked this up?
Then Emily melted against him, her arms sliding around his neck. Her body pressed against his, her soft curves fitting perfectly against him as she returned his kiss with unexpected fervor.
