Page 11 of A Crush at Christmas
“Actually, I need to talk to her about something, and it’s urgent. I’ll meet you at the main house in an hour?”
Maybe two if our conversation goes well and we have a repeat of last night.
A guy can live in hope.
“Don’t screw up, bro.” Linc slugs me on the arm. “You deserve to be happy.”
My nod is brusque as I break into a jog, ignoring my brother’s knowing chuckles behind me.
11
EMERY
The rain is still pelting down as I open the door, determined to find Weston.
But I don’t need to. He’s running towards me like a hero in a romcom and my heart flips.
I can’t think of anything to say when he reaches me other than, “You’re drenched.”
“Rain will do that to you,” he says, a grin I have no hope of interpreting sparking his eyes with amusement. “Can I come in and get out of these clothes?”
I blush like some naive girl with a crush, and he laughs.
“Me stripping naked doesn’t have to mean anything.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Unless you want to take advantage of me again?”
“You’re hilarious,” I say, stepping aside so he can enter the kitchen.
But at least he’s lost the haunted look and he’s speaking to me again, which is better than when he left a quarter of an hour ago.
“Be back in a second,” he says, heading for the pantry where we slept on a pile of linen tablecloths, re-emerging a minute later wrapped in one of them, toga style.
“Nice outfit.” I snicker, and he strikes a pose. “Though I hope you’ve tucked it tight in all the right places, otherwise it might unravel.”
“You wish.” He flexes his biceps and the knot at his shoulder slips a little. His sheepish expression is priceless and I crack up, the tension of the last twenty-four hours spilling out in hysterical laughter.
I clutch my stomach as tears squeeze from my eyes, but his laughter peters out faster than mine, and I realise it’s time to have a conversation that might determine our future.
Nervous, I gesture at the stove. “Would you like some breakfast? If you don’t feel like quiche, I can whip up pancakes or scrambled eggs or an omelette—”
“We should talk,” he says, his serious tone matching his expression, and I hope like hell I haven’t blown this.
“We should.” I perch on a stool at the island bench and wait until he does the same, trying not to react when our knees touch. “I freaked out.”
“I shouldn’t have left.”
We speak almost simultaneously and laugh.
“You first,” I say, taking the easy way out, because if I’ve screwed up and he confirms it, I’ll give the ‘let’s stay friends’ speech and leave it at that.
“I shouldn’t have blurted that I want to date you after you told me about your big job offer. It sounded like a ‘me or job’ situation and it’s not.”
He presses a hand to his chest. “I like you, Emery. And it took every ounce of my willpower not to kiss you senseless that Christmas night four years ago. But I was at the peak of my career, moving around constantly, so I didn’t want to takeadvantage of you. And Tom was privy to my tales of adventure and debauchery, making you off limits, because he would’ve killed me for touching you.”
“And now?”
“Tom doesn’t dictate who I have a relationship with, though thankfully, he’s okay with us dating. But me? I’m older and wiser. I know what I want. I’m tired of living transiently. I want a home. A place I can chill. Someone to share it with.”
He pauses and eyeballs me. “Whether that home is in Brisbane or Melbourne doesn’t matter. If you’re keen to explore this thing between us, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth to make it happen.”
Emotion swells in my chest to the point I can barely breathe. This amazing man is willing to do that for me?
“I used my job offer to push you away earlier because I’ve had an embarrassing crush on you forever and last night was so freaking amazing I can’t think straight.”
I stand and, nudging his knees apart, move between them so I’m close enough to cup his face between my hands.
“In answer to what you just said, it’s a hell yeah from me. Let’s do this. Date. Have mind-blowing sex. Drive each other crazy. The whole insane relationship thing.”
He yanks me to him and then we’re kissing, wild, frenzied, like we’ll never get enough.
