I roared down the coast of the island, trying to clear my head. Fuck, I’d messed up with Em. I knew it—had recognized the stiff set to her shoulders and the anger in her voice—but I couldn’t stop myself from letting it happen. All night, I’d been thinking about how she’d had to lie to her dad about me…about us. She shouldn’t have had to do that. Not ever. Being with me came with a burden for Emery, something I needed to fix. Something I couldn’t shy away from.
I’d wanted to talk to Emery about family stuff over breakfast, plan out what we were going to do and say, but we hadn’t been alone as I’d expected to be. Waking up to my mom being in Em’s house had thrown me for a loop. It had also made the guilt embed its claws deeper as my girl had been forced to lie to my mother. The two women in my life at odds, and it was my fault.
I was going to make it up to them individually, which was why I’d needed to leave so fast. My mom’s presence had reminded me of what day it was and the respect that needed paying.
It’d been more than a decade since I’d made this drive, since I’d stood on a plot of land no one ever wanted to have to buy. I should have gone as soon as I’d gotten home, but…I hadn’t. I’d let things get in the way, let my life roll on without thought to my past. But now, I needed to. My mom needed me to. I owed her.
I parked behind her car as she opened the door. The look she shot me was part relief, part irritation, and all mom.
“Did you even bother trying to drive the speed limit, John Michael?”
Ah, the middle name. She liked to pull that out when she was pissed at me. Guess I deserved it. I grabbed her arm when I reached her, grinning as I guided her toward the grass. “Good morning to you too, Mom.”
“I already said good morning back at Emery’s place.” Her steely gaze flicked my way. “I’m going to need an explanation for that one, son.”
She’d get no argument from me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I walked with her across the grassy rise and past the stones that marked other gravesites, ignoring them all. Those people weren’t who we were here to see. Our spot was at the far end of the section, closest to a row of lilac bushes my mother had helped plant. Closest to the lake.
My father’s grave.
Mom stopped first, taking a deep breath and clutching my arm a little tighter. She moved to kneel, but I held her up, taking that spot instead. Dropping down to clear off the grass and leaves from the stone with his name carved in it. My name, too.
John Michael Hamilton. Beloved husband and father. The words carried more weight now to me than ever before because of Em. Because of what we were trying to do. Because of what I wanted…with her.
My mom sighed once the stone was clear, sounding tired. Old beyond her years, really. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”
“I haven’t been since before I left for the Corps. I figured it was time.”
“I remember that day.” She laughed softly, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You were such a young thing then—all skin and bones and gangly limbs. My Bambi in a Marine Corps costume.”
“It wasn’t a costume.”
“No, it wasn’t. And neither was your father’s, no matter how much he seemed like a boy playing at being an adult when I met him.” She dropped down beside me, leaning against my arm. “I still miss him every day.”
That took me aback. “But you have Wade now.”
“I do, and I love him dearly. He didn’t replace your father’s hole in my heart, though. Just like I didn’t replace the hole left when Wade’s wife died. Love doesn’t stop or end. Love burrows into our hearts and makes a nest. A permanent one.” She bumped me with her elbow. “You should know that. I saw the way you looked at Emery. I’ve been seeing it since you finally came home.”
I jerked back, my brow tight. My shock hardly tempered. “You have?”
“You’re my son. Of course I have.”
“And that never…bothered you? Since you’re married to her father?”
She cocked her head, an almost confused look on her face. “What should that have to do with anything? You two aren’t related, and you didn’t grow up together. You were long gone when Wade and I got married, and Emery was practically an adult.”
But the guilt whispered to me, making me doubt. “I worry about what people will think. What Wade and the boys will think.”
“Oh, they’ll think you’re an asshole for daring to date the precious Emery. They all still see her as a child. Hell, one of the twins might try to fight you, knowing them. They might even be angry enough to win.”
I rolled my eyes at her snorted laugh. “Gee. Thanks for sugarcoating that.”
She leaned into my shoulder, her body so much smaller than mine. “Emery’s not a child, though. Is she?”
“No.”
Mom hummed. Nodded. “You love her.”
“I do.” The answer came quickly. I’d loved her as a friend for years, had lusted after her since I’d moved home, but breaking through that wall and actually spending time together in person? Exploring her body and seeing her kindness and strength? Yeah, I loved her. No doubt.
And my mom apparently already knew it. “Have you told her that?”
“Not yet.”
“You should.”
“I know. It’s all so new, and with the baby thing—”
“What baby thing?” Her eyes went wide, something close to fury swirling through them. “John Michael Hamilton Junior, I swear to God, if you weren’t careful with her after all the times I showed you how to put on a condom—”
“Ma, stop.” Those were definitely memories I didn’t need to relive. The joys of being raised by a single mom—I hadn’t eaten a banana in years because of those lessons. “I didn’t get her pregnant on accident. She…wants a baby. With me. Before…”
I couldn’t say the words, but my mom knew. Of course she did. The Collins’ family history was well-known.
“Oh,” she breathed, sitting back down on her calves. “Before having her ovaries removed so she doesn’t get sick like her mom did.”
“Yeah.”
Mom sat silent for a long moment before quietly asking, “And do you want—”
“More than anything.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“You don’t need to.” I turned to fully face her, holding her gaze as I unburdened my truth. “I want her. I have since I moved home and realized my best friend—the woman I’d been sharing my secrets with for years through letters and emails—wasn’t a little kid anymore. And I want a baby, I want a family. I want all that with her. Want it so bad, it hurts.”
The smile pulling at her lips tempered her sigh. “You’re going to have to tell Wade and the boys.”
“I’m planning to.”
“Soon?”
I looked over the stone in front of me again, the one with my name on it. Focusing on the dates this time. “Today.”
She chuckled, pushing on my shoulder as she rose to her feet. “On your father’s birthday. Fitting. I remember him standing in front of my own father and brothers—in his uniform, no less—asking for their blessing to marry me.”
I ran my finger over the name etched in marble one last time before getting to my feet. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if they wouldn’t have given it?”
“Oh, honey. He asked for their blessing, not their permission.” She grabbed my arm again as we headed for our cars. “Your father and I were in love—nothing could have stopped us from being together.”
Nothing. She said the word like she meant it, with a fire and a sureness that brooked no argument. I understood that because I felt the same way about Emery. Nothing would get in our way.
When we reached the road, I opened her car door and helped her inside. My pulse raced with my need to get back to Em, but I had one more thing I needed to say to my mom.
Before she could shut the door, I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
A confused sort of smile graced her pretty face when I pulled away. “For what?”
“For being you.”
She waved me off, but I could see the redness around her eyes. Could see how much the words meant to her. My mom may have been made of steel, but she was a softy when it came to her only child.
Once her door was closed, she rolled down her window and started the engine, leaning out and grabbing my wrist one last time. “You are your father’s son, John. Always have been. Just as stubborn and determined, just as brave.”
“He was a good man.”
“As are you.” She let me go and put the car in gear. “Now, go home to your girl, John Michael. I have a feeling you have some apologizing to do.”
Fuck, she wasn’t wrong. I hurried to my truck, the engine rumbling as I turned the ignition. It was time to go home and deal with the shit I’d been ignoring for weeks. Time to be the man my father would have wanted me to be.
I followed my mom down the coast until she turned off toward her house, then I sped off for the cottage. All the way, the final words she’d said swirled in my head. Apologize? I needed to beg Em for her forgiveness. I needed to tell her how much I loved her. We’d deal with her family together, but no matter what, I wanted to be with her. And I needed to make sure she knew that.
But when I walked into the house, instead of anger or yelling, silence greeted me. Well, not completely.
“Hey, baby.” I stared at Em’s back, waiting for a response. One I didn’t receive. She cleaned instead—scrubbed, really. Hunched over the kitchen floor on her hands and knees, scouring the tile with a sponge. The only answer I received was a look shot over her shoulder. I didn’t need more to know what was going on—her eyes were red-rimmed, her face flushed but streaky. Emery had been crying, and that was one hundred percent my fault.
Fuck.
I set my keys on the counter, the one that looked as if she’d already cleaned it within an inch of its life. I had no idea Formica could actually…sparkle. “Em? What are you doing?”
“Cleaning the floor.” The eye-roll was implied, though I wouldn’t have been surprised to see it.
This would not end well.
“Why don’t you let me help you?”
She jerked back onto her heels and tossed the sponge into the bucket next to her. Water splashed up over the sides, marring the clean floor. Something she didn’t even seem to notice. “How was the station?”
Time to man up. “I didn’t go to the station.”
“Yeah, no shit.” She jumped to her feet, grabbing the bucket and stalking to the sink. I assumed she’d dump the dirty water there. But instead, she grabbed a different sponge and began a full-on assault on the stainless-steel vessel. Back straight. Shoulders stiff. Angry.
“Em, listen—”
“You lied to me.” Her words landed like daggers, wounding me as they struck.
“I did, and I shouldn’t have resorted to that. My mom being here this morning threw me for a loop.”
“You don’t think it threw me for a loop? You don’t think it affected me at all?”
“I’m sure it did, which is part of why I went after her. I knew she was heading to the graveyard, and I needed to have a conversation with her. About us. I needed her to understand.”
She huffed again, shaking her head. “And you didn’t think I should be a part of that? Didn’t think I should be involved—even in the barest sense of you telling me what you were doing—at all?”
“In hindsight, yeah. Of course. At the time…I wasn’t thinking straight.” Which was an understatement. Not that she needed to hear that.
Emery tossed the sponge down, her face hard when she finally turned my way. Guard up. “It felt like you weren’t thinking at all—and certainly not about me. What we’re doing…our future with a baby… It’s supposed to be a partnership, John. I don’t want any of this to be one-sided, and that’s exactly what you made it.”
“Emery, I’m—”
But she didn’t let me finish. Instead, she threw her hands in the air and stormed off down the hallway, slamming the bedroom door when she disappeared inside. Leaving me alone.
I ran a hand over my face, scratching the scruff on my chin. I needed to find a way to get Emery to listen to me so I could apologize to her. So I could explain. I certainly hadn’t done a good job of that so far, but I’d keep trying. I had to.
Resigned to being yelled at again, I slipped down the hall to the bedroom door. I hated that it was closed, that she was hiding from me. I wanted to break the fucker down, but I knew better. Still, keeping my brain in control of my body took more effort than I cared to admit.
“Baby? Em?” I knocked once, glaring at the slab of wood between us. “I know I screwed up, but please come out and talk to me.”
Silence.
I knocked again, practically shouting. “Emery.”
The door whipped open, and one sour-faced woman flew past me. She never even glanced my way. “I wanted to have a discussion this morning, but you were silent. Now, I’m not much in the mood to talk.”
My blood froze as she grabbed her keys and purse. “You can’t leave.”
Wrong thing to say.
Emery spun, eyes narrowed, lips curled into what I could only describe as a snarl. “Watch me.”
The front door slamming behind her might as well have been a gunshot for the hole it ripped in my chest. Emery had left me. Gone. She ran away, putting physical space between us. I could handle her being mad; I could understand it and accept it. But leaving?
I paced the living room, considering my options. There was really only one, though. That woman was my life and could very well be carrying my child. She wanted space? Too fucking bad. I may have screwed up this morning, but I knew we could fix that. I’d beg, borrow, or steal to make her believe my apology if I had to.
But first, I needed to find her.