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“Aye.” I agree.
He climbs in and closes the door. I watch as he drives down the driveway and out of sight.
I spin on my heel and walk up the steps to head inside and find Emily.
Emily sits at her window, watching the men do what they were assigned. She’s wrapped in a fluffy blue blanket.
Sensing my presence, she peeks over her shoulder. Offering me a warm smile, she turns all the way around.
“Hi,” she whispers.
I grin and walk over to her. She tips her head up and meets my lips without hesitation.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, pulling away.
She shrugs. “I’ll be okay.”
My hand cups the side of her face and she leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed.
“Anything you need or want to talk about?” my thumb gently caresses her soft skin.
Her turquoise blue eyes open and meet mine. For a moment I get lost in them. Each day, they seem to brighten more and more. It brings a sort of peace in my heart that I’ve missed.
“Just be with me?” she says, standing.
I wrap my arms around her and she circles hers around my middle. I set my head atop her head and breathe her scent in.
I smile when the scent of wildflowers and berries flows through my nose.
Feck, I’ve missed this smell.
“Are you smelling me?” She asks, voice full of humor.
“Aye,” I say, taking another deep breath.
She chuckles and pulls away. “Why?”
I kiss her forehead, refusing to release her from my arms. “You smell like wildflowers and berries. It’s a smell that I will never tire of. It’s a smell that soothes my soul in ways I can’t explain.”
She hums and smiles up at me.
“I need to go to Manhattan. I’ll be gone for a few hours. Will you be alright?” My eyes roam over her face, studying every beautiful freckle.
“I think so. I want to hang out in the garden again today.”
My heart expands every time she says she wants to go out in the garden. I’m getting my Emily back.
I plant a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”
She nods, stroking my jaw with her fingers.
“Be careful.” She whispers and then stands on her toes and kisses my lips.
I step away and exit the room.
Me and a couple of other men pull up to our Manhattan warehouse. It’s in the heart of one of the lower industrial areas so it’s easy to keep our dealings discreet.
“Liam, how goes it?” James, the one overseeing the operations while we’re gone, asks.
