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Maybe that was why his wild spirit and enthusiasm for life appealed to the spark of adventure I’d buried deep beneath my sensible, staid, practical nature.
“So? Would you do me the honor of accompanying me this evening, ma’am?” Emmett asked, breaking across my thoughts.
“It would be my pleasure, sir,” I replied, playing along. “But only because I need to ensure none of your relatives are closet arsonists.”
I grimaced at my flippant words. I’d have to come clean soon. I knew what it was like to be deceived in a relationship–not that Emmett and I were in a romantic relationship–were we? Whatever we were, it had been instigated by Chief Anders’ desire for answers.
I’d been following orders, but that excuse only went so far. I didn’t want it festering in my gut any longer. Emmett deserved better. I deserved better.
As if my thoughts had summoned him, Chief Anders strode into my office. He raised an eyebrow as if enquiring who I was talking to.
“Okay, Emmett,” I said into the phone, adopting a formal tone. “I’ll see you later to discuss those preventative measures you mentioned.”
I saw Chief Anders’ nod of approval in my peripheral vision.
“The chief walked in, huh?” Emmett guessed.
“Yes. That’s correct.”
“Okay, Wildflower. I’ll leave you to it. I'll pick you up at seven,” Emmett purred before ending the call.
“Good work, Amber,” Chief Anders said. “If your discussions with him go well tonight, I think we can cross him and the rest of the Furbanes off the list.”
I wondered why the chief suspected them. Did he know something he wasn’t sharing with me? I’d grown to trust Emmett, but was he keeping something from me?
You shouldn't be swooning over his smoky voice like a smitten schoolgirl, my practical brain reminded me. I didn't want to rush into anything, especially after how badly my last relationship had ended.
Yet, as I set down the phone, I realized I hadn't stopped smiling the entire call. It suddenly dawned on me that Emmett’s pet name also referred to the secret flower that bloomed in a field of ash.
What secrets was Emmett hiding?
Chapter 8
Amber
Raucous laughter and booming voices enveloped me as I stepped into the Furbane family home. The aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted from the kitchen, mingling with lively conversation and playful bickering.
Emmett hadn’t mentioned a dress code, so I’d opted for black pants and a green sweater that matched my eyes and complemented my coloring. I’d applied light makeup and washed and blow-dried my hair.
I was so used to wearing it up for work, so it felt good to leave the waves heavy and loose around my shoulders. If the appreciative look in Emmett’s eyes was any indication when he’d picked me up from my little cottage, he liked what he saw too.
I hovered in the doorway, unsure where to go or what to do. I'd never experienced a gathering quite like this before. The foster homes of my childhood had been quiet, even sterile. But this was messy and lively. Massive men with bulging muscles filled the house to overflowing.
And in the middle were two women, dwarfed by the enormous men surrounding them. I recognized Emmett’s mother immediately with her warm, russet eyes, dark coloring, and high cheekbones. The other woman had slightly lighter hair and eyes, but the family resemblance was still evident. Was this one of her sisters?
Emmett wrapped an arm around my waist, comforting me and easing my nerves. “Everyone, this is Amber,” he announced, his voice threaded with pride. His arm tightened possessively, and I could almost hear the unspoken “mine” that lingered in the air.
A chorus of “hellos” and “welcomes” washed over me.
“Amber, meet my mom, the head honcho,” Emmett grinned.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Furbane,” I said, extending a hand.
“Amber, love, it’s wonderful to meet you,” she said, ignoring my hand and pulling me into a bear hug. “And call me Maggie. Any friend of Emmett's is family to us.”
Family.
The word resonated within me, stirring something long buried. A yearning to belong warred with the instinct to guard my heart.
