But what was this? Memphis was motioning toward something. And so were the others. Sloane stepped onto the porch to see what she was missing and gasped when she saw Emmitt at the base of her porch, strumming his guitar. Sothat’swhere the background music had been coming from.
“…and a happy new year,”he sang as the others quieted. Emmitt leaned the guitar against the wood post and rocked back on his heels.
“I got your texts,” he said, pinning those beautiful brown eyes on her.
Sloane’s heart was beating so hard it felt like it might lift off like a helicopter in flight. She nodded, hoping it would encourage him to say more.
Emmitt took one of the three steps leading to her. “I’m glad you sent them,” he said. “I would have come around eventually, I’m sure, but it helped put things into perspective.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “You really were in a pinch.”
“I was,” she said with a nod.
He took the second step. “And to think I thought I’d woo you into fudging a few training hours for me…”
Sloane couldn’t help but grin. “You still have four sessions to go. That is eight hours. But if you would like me to pencil them in for you—”
“No way,” Emmitt said as he moved onto the top step, even with her now. “I don’t want there to be a limit on our time together. Something happened to me after we fell in love,” he said. “I stopped being able to imagine my life without you. My future, that used to look a certain way, looked different suddenly. Better, enriched, because I’d found my person. My best friend. The love of my life.”
“Hey, I thoughtIwas your best friend,” Maverick blurted from the driveway.
“Really?”Memphis grumbled.
Sloane caught herself laughing, caught up in the magic of a moment so wonderful she could hardly believe it was real.
Emmitt reached for Sloane’s hands, securing one in each of his. “I like spending time with you.” He gave her hands a squeeze. “I likelikeyou,” he added with another squeeze. “And I have fallen so deeply in love with you that there’s no going back.”
A wave of magnificent bliss bloomed warm and tingly in her chest. It was time for her to return the sentiment. She shifted the hold he had on her hands so that their fingers entwined the way they had in front of the fireplace.Holding hands.
She moved in next, pressed a warm kiss to his lips, and pulled back with a sigh.The kiss.
“Oh,” she said, coming in once more. “I almost forgot this one.” She ran the tip of her nose back and forth along his.
“Hey,” Lucas blurted from the driveway, “that’s an Eskimo kiss.”
“You got that right,” Emmitt hollered back with a grin.He leaned in closer to Sloane. “I love that we can speak in code,” Emmitt whispered. “Translation: we’re headed for the altar, babe.” He moved in to kiss her with a low groan.
This wasn’t like the short kiss she’d just given him. In fact, she realized as he dipped her back in his big, strong arms, this kiss was one for the books.
And as the family broke out in a mixture of hoots, hollers, and cheers, and as Maverick broke into a solo version of Blue Christmas, Sloane sank into Emmitt’s heavenly kiss.
Perhaps The Homestead Inn could be home to her after all.
Epilogue
“This was a good idea,” Sloane said as she glanced around the crowded restaurant.
“What’s that?” Emmitt asked, rubbing his palms on his jeans and shifting in the booth across from her. Was it just her or was Emmitt on edge?
She put her mind back to her initial thought. “Coming out to eat the nightbeforeValentine’s,” she said. “If it is this busy today, imagine what it will look like tomorrow, no?”
Emmitt nodded. “True.” He blew out a breath through pursed lips, giving merit to her prior observation.
“Are you all right?” she couldn’t help but ask. A worried knot formed in her gut. “Is there something wrong?” Sure, over a month had passed since their world had been shaken to the core, and they hadn’t heard so much of a word from JB, Wren, or anyone else regarding the Anna Fielding case, but Sloane still worried things might unravel somehow.
“No, no,” Emmitt assured while shaking his head. “It’s just…” He gulped, nodded, and then moved to dig something from his pocket. “I was going to do this in the coolest way,” he said, looking chagrined with his wilted posture and sheepish shrug. “But I don’t know if I—”
“Mr. Duran?” a waiter approaching the table blurted. “Your guitar.” He held out an acoustic guitar and nodded for Emmitt to take it.
At once, Emmitt tucked whatever he held back into his pocket and came to a stand.
