Emmett pulled back the curtain and looked out at the growing crowd. It was insane how nervous he was. This was Elle’s performance, yet he felt as if he might barf.

“It’s building up out there, hey?” Max asked, bumping Emmett’s shoulder. “The crowd, I mean.”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Dude, are you nervous?”

“No.” Emmett lied.

“Hell yeah, you are.”

“Oh, Max,” Elle called behind them, moving forward from the side of the stage. Her gaze caught Emmett’s and she smiled.

He let his eyes trail over her slim figure. He’d never tire of knowing they would be going home together at the end of the night.

She seemed unfazed by Emmett’s perusal as she turned to Max. “Thank you so much for fixing the stage props on such short notice. You are an honorary member of our troupe.”

“Does that mean I get to take a bow?”

“Umm, no.” She laughed then turned toward Emmett. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Stay back here.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I won’t leave you.”

A smile spread wide across her face as his double meaning registered.

“Bye, guys.” She wiggled her fingers and scooted off behind the stage.

“You got the ring?” Max asked.

Emmett glanced around the stage in horror. “Dude, shut up. It’s a surprise.”

“You going to ask her after the performance? Out on the stage?”

“Hell, no. Elle would hate that.”

“Then when?”

“None of your nosy business,” Emmett said, pulling back the curtain and glancing out into the audience again.

“Who are you looking for?” Max pushed up beside him. “Half the town is out there.”

It was the first recital for Elle’s dance academy and Max was right, half the town was here, showing their support.

Emmett scanned the audience. “Aunt Sally’s not.”

“She’ll be here, she probably just had to finish icing a cake or something.” Max laughed. “Why do you care so much about Aunt Sally anyway?”

“No reason.” Emmett let the curtain close. He didn’t want to tell anyone that he’d shared Elsbeth’s old journal with Sally. He had a feeling that perhaps Warner Sumner had been her Emmett of the 1800s. He wasn’t sure they had a chance to reconnect, but he wanted to try.

“Hey, is Devlin out there?” Max asked, taking a turn to pull the curtain back.

Emmett chuckled. “Why are you asking about Devlin?”

“No reason.” Max shook his head and turned back to his brother. “Just curious.”

“No, she’s back in New York, talking to my publisher.”

“Are they going to publish her photo book?”

“I’m not sure. They have a section that publishes coffee table books, so I thought it was worth a shot. I told her if they don’t we’ll find backers. Hell, I might even open up my own publishing house.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why not?”

Max shrugged. “So, did Elle finish her photo shoot?”

“Yeah, she did.” Emmett smiled, remembering how brave Elle had been last week while she’d posed for Devlin, nude from the waist up. Devlin’s shots had been artful and elegant, and the camera had captured every nuance of Elle—from her beauty, to her vulnerability, and everything in between.

“I can’t wait to see it,” Max said but there wasn’t a trace of the leering womanizer in his tone. Emmett liked the way his brothers seemed to be taking Elle in as one of their own.

“It’s going to be a great project. If my publishers don’t pick it up, they’re crazy.”

“Speaking of crazy.” Max nodded toward the back of the stage.

Elle came toward them now, this time wiping tears from her cheeks, her face crumbling into that ugly, happy cry he’d become familiar with.

He looped his around her waist and pulled her to him. He couldn’t wait to get her home.

Her fertility scans had all come back clear. She hadn’t suffered any damage to her reproductive system as a result of her cancer. He wanted to get her home, get a ring on her finger, and start work on their family.

“What’s up, Buttercup?” Emmett asked.

Elle smiled at his question. “I’m just so proud of all my girls.”

“Of course, you are,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You did real good here, Ms. Noble. Real good.”

“While you guys get all sappy,” Max said, “I’m going to grab my seat. Hopefully Maggie’s saving me one.”.

“I’m sure more than one girl is saving her seat for you, Max.” Elle giggled.

“One can dream.” Max winked at her. “Good luck.” He glanced at Emmett. “You too, bro.”

“Bye Max, thanks again.” Elle turned to stare at Emmett. “What did Max mean, wishing you luck too?”

“Are you kidding,” Emmett gave a nervous laugh, “you’ve been a lunatic these last few days. He’s just concerned for my safety.”

“Oh stop.” She smiled, swatting at his chest.

Emmett’s breath caught in his chest. She was stunning. More so now that she was in her element than she’d ever been to him.

“I’m just nervous,” she said. “I want this experience to be amazing for all my students. There’s nothing more thrilling than performing.”

Emmett tugged her closer. “I thought you hated performing.”

“I didn’t hate it. I hated that nervous feeling right before the curtain lifted. But once the music started, it was like flying.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked. “Performing? Being on the stage?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I love watching my students perform.” She nodded toward the stage where her troupe gathered into their final spots before the curtain was set to go up.

“This is like a first performance for you in a way.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, “I guess it is. I’m a nervous wreck for them. More than I ever was for myself.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“They’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “They have a great teacher.”

Elle smiled and kissed his lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For…everything.”

“You’re my everything.”

She turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tight. “You’re my everything, too.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

“Miss Noble,” someone whisper-shouted behind them.

Emmett dropped his arms and Elle jumped back as if she’d been electrocuted.

“Yes, Jeanette?”

“My bow came undone.”

The young girl twisted to show the ribbon that had been in her hair earlier now hanging loosely around her neck.

“Jeanette, I thought we practiced tying bows.” There was no censure in Elle’s tone.

“I know.” The girl tilted her head with a pout, her lisp making Emmett smile, “but ith hard when ith behind me.” She pointed to the ponytail which was indeed, on the back of her head. “Thee,” she said.

“Yes, I do see.” Elle walked toward the girl, quickly tying the bow. “There,” she patted her on the back and scooted her toward the stage before taking a step toward the other dancers, offering last minute instructions.

His heart squeezed, seeing her with the little girl. He could so easily picture her with a little girl who looked just like her, teaching her to dance, to tie bows. Laughing with her.

He turned to study the eclectic group of dancers. They were all shapes, sizes, ages, colors—and sexes—something Elle reveled in. Some had natural skill, others had two left feet, but Elle said it didn’t matter. The only requirement she had to enter her dance company was a love for a dancing and a passion for learning. If someone couldn’t pay, she found a way to make it work for the particular family.

She worked tirelessly to instill into these young minds that life wasn’t about looking for the flaws in themselves or in others. Life was about learning who they were, who they wanted to be.

Inside her studio she’d placed a huge wooden plaque.

I am perfectly imperfect. And I’m learning to be okay with that.

Life was about discovering their dreams and working hard to reach them. But most importantly, life was best lived in the moment.

Elle had chosen Jessie J’s song “Who You Are” for her dance classes’ first performance. She told the students the song described what she had gone through in her own life, worrying every day about being perfect. Elle wanted them to know perfection wasn’t an attainable goal. Nothing in life is perfect, nor is it guaranteed.

“Oh, my gosh,” Elle whispered, slipping up next to him. “I’m so nervous.”

“Are they ready?” Emmett asked.

“Ready as they’ll ever be.” She glanced up and smiled, a real smile. One that had captured him, heart and soul, two decades before. Elle pointed to the sound guy who nodded and gave her two thumbs up.

“Here goes nothing,” she said, pulling away from Emmett and walking toward the front of the curtain.

“Wait,” Emmett said, pulling her back.

“What?” she asked, brows knitted in confusion.

“Break a leg.”

Elle laughed. “That’s for actors. You never tell a dancer to break a leg, Emmett.”

“Yeah, I guess that doesn’t make sense. What should I say though? Isn’t it bad luck to say good luck?”

“You can say, merde,” she said with a huge smile.

“Merde,” he repeated. “What does that mean?”

She glanced over at her dancers who were making their final adjustments on the stage before the curtain lifted. “It has to do with animals and poop. I’ll tell you later.”

He gave her a look. “Well, okay, merde then.”

“Thank you.” She pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “Okay, I’m going to go announce the show.” She drew back the curtains but paused. “Oh, no,” she whispered.

“What?” Emmett glanced over her shoulder.

“My dad brought me roses. I hate roses.”

“Those aren’t for you, sweetheart.”

Elle turned to stare. “Of course, they are. He brings flowers to all my performances. Who else would they be for?”

“Wait for it.” Emmett nodded back to the audience.

“Oh, my gosh, that’s your Aunt Sally. And she’s walking straight toward my dad.”

“Yep.”

“My dad is giving the roses to your aunt?”

Emmett watched as Warner motioned toward the empty seat. Aunt Sally hesitated but Warner stood and handed her the roses.

Slowly, she slid into the seat beside him and smelled the flowers, smiling ever so slightly.

“Oh, my gosh,” Elle whispered.

“They’re not just any rose,” Emmett said. “They’re Love and Peace roses. Steve Perry’s favorite. Or so Aunt Sally says.”

“Steve Perry?” Elle turned to stare at him. “As in the singer from Journey?”

“Yep.” He nodded.

“How did my dad know that?”

Emmett shrugged. “I might have given your old man a few pointers on how to win over my aunt. He had to special order the roses.”

“Why Emmett Sumner,” she swatted his shoulder, “you hopeless romantic.”

He pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. “I hope I’m not hopeless,” he whispered against her skin.

“No,” she said, “not hopeless, but very romantic. And quite excited.” She wiggled against his leg. “Later.”

Emmett laughed. “Later,” he whispered. But not much later, he thought.

“Okay,” she pecked his lips, “got to go.”

He watched as Elle walked out onto the stage for the introductions. The audience broke out into applause as she smiled and waved to everyone.

The noise of the applause faded as Emmett thought back to their first kiss. They were seven and he’d just stolen her Tickle Me Elmo doll to get back at her for ruining his Andrés Galarraga baseball card.

Elle had cornered him and told him to give it back “or elth.” She sounded remarkably like her student of today. Elle had lost her two front teeth earlier that month and it was difficult to understand her. Something he razzed her about relentlessly in those early days.

He’d asked what the “or else” was.

She’d just smiled, that toothless grin, and kissed him. Flat on the lips. She’d stepped back, defiantly, placing her tiny fists on her hips and exclaimed, “I’ll gif you coothies.”

He’d immediately spit on the ground and rubbed his tongue with the back of his hands.

Emmett couldn’t help but grin now, thinking about that first kiss.

“Gif him back, Emmeth,” she’d said. And he had, laughing the entire time.

For the rest of their lives, he’d give her anything she asked of him and more. So much more.

* * *

Lori and Kay are so glad you guys found this series and are with us in the world of Canyon Creek! If you haven’t read Ben and Maggie’s story, check it out ! Max and Devlin get their book next, and we hope you’ll join us for their journey. You can get that book !

Read on for an unedited sneak peek at !