Page 75 of Saving His Heart
“Ah-ah, Mrs. Westbrook, it’s a surprise.”
“I’ve never really liked surprises.”
“Have you ever had a good one?”
“Probably not. Surprises rarely end well for me.”
The car slows to a stop, and I flash a satisfied grin. “Then I’m glad I can have another first, Goldie. Come on, we have a reservation.”
I offer my hand as she steps out of the car, then snicker at the confusion written all over her flawless face. She glances left, then right, and I know why. We are on an exclusive strip of beach. There are no restaurants or hotels here, only private homes. I’m sure this isn’t what she was expecting.
“Who lives here?”
“Tonight? We do,” I tell her. “Come on, the chef is waiting.” She allows me to drag her behind me. I’ve noticed it’s become a habit when I’m excited or nervous—me in front, holding her close and keeping her protected.
The house is enormous, and you have to climb at least fifteen steps to reach the front door. Though I can’t see the ocean, I can smell it. The salty brine of tide fills my nose. The sun is beginning to set, and I can tell from the front steps it falls behind the ocean.
I’m not even to the top step when the front door opens. “Mr. and Mrs. Westbrook, we are so happy to have you here at Hearts Landing. Come in, please, I’ll show you to the peak.”
“Thank you,” I tell our host politely while giving Emory a smile I hope conveys every feeling I can’t express right now.How can this woman’s presence elicit so many emotions?
We follow the woman who introduces herself as Mrs. Archer, the home’s caretaker, through the house and up another set of stairs. On the upper floor of the home, she stops at a twisting iron staircase that spirals all the way to the ceiling.
“You go first, sweetheart, but take off your shoes. I don’t want your heel to get stuck in the grates of the stairs.”
I hold out my hand as Emory removes one, then two high heels. Mrs. Archer happily takes them from me.
“I’ll just place these in your room.” She turns and leaves us standing in front of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean.
The sea is visible from every angle. Ems is fidgety and twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she takes it all in.She’s overwhelmed.
“We need to go up, Goldie,” I nudge her. “Your surprise is upstairs.”
One last glance around, and she takes the steps cautiously. It’s a staircase out of a fairy tale, the one that has the princess locked in the castle. This area of the house is why I chose to come here. Every bride deserves a little fairy tale on their wedding day. Even if ours ends with a grim finale.Stop thinking like that. Live in the moment, asshole. They have propped the door open at the top of the stairs, so she takes a step through.
“Oh, Preston!” Her hands fly to her mouth as she looks around. “What did you do?”
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I place my chin on her head and sigh.
“I can’t take you to Italy for our honeymoon, Ems, so I did the next best thing. I brought Italy to you.” My voice is so thick with emotion that she tries to turn in my arms, but I hold her still. “I wish I could take you there and watch you stomp grapes, then taste the wine from your lips. I wish I could feed you pasta in the winery as you take in the orchards. I wish I could take you, Emory, but I’m happy knowing you’ll go. Next year—”
I have to pause to compose myself, and she again attempts to face me, but it’s hard enough to get this next part out. I can’t look in her eyes as I say it.
“Next year, you’ll spend today in Italy with your sisters. The crazy family you have inherited will also meet you there, and you’ll all celebrate life together. If there is one thing I can give you, Emory, it’s a promise that you’ll never be alone again. You and your sisters will always be a part of my family.”
“Pres—”
“This is my wedding gift to you, Goldie. You’ll all need each other, and it makes me happy to know that one year from today, you’ll all be together in the one place you always wanted to visit most in this world. Please don’t fight me on it. Mona has worked triple time to get it all planned in the last forty-eight hours.”
“Poor Mona,” she laughs. She doesn’t even know half of it. I had to use half my office staff to pull all this off.
“Emory, welcome to your winery.”
“My what?”
Letting her go, she spins in place. We are on the roof that overlooks the ocean, but you can only hear it from where we stand. Everywhere she looks is filled with rows and rows of vines.
“What is this?”
