I tug my T-shirt over my head. “Just let me look at you, Freckles.”
Her gaze falls to my bare chest. “Let me look at you. I’ve missed this view.”
I huff out a laugh. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you at the airport.”
She shakes her head slightly. “I had to come. I need to tell you something.”
I take two steps toward her before I fall on both knees. Wrapping my arms around her, I beg for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I was an asshole to you. I should never have left, but something happened. I saw someone.”
Her fingers sift through my hair. She gently tugs it so I’ll look up and into her face. “You saw Delaney.”
I stare at her. “What did you say?”
That brings her down to her knees too. “You saw Delaney at Sweet Bluebells.”
Nodding, I can’t find words.
“I need to show you something, Case.” Her hands tug on my biceps. “Sit on the bed.”
I do as I’m told. I’d do anything for her.
I help her up before I settle on the bed. Kicking my shoes off, I watch as she crosses the room to grab her purse.
Before I can say a word, she’s dumped it on the bed.
Her hands grab for a large envelope. I recognize the logo on it immediately. It’s from Printe.
“You’re going to show me a picture?” I sigh. “Can this wait, Emma? I want to hold you. I need to make love to you.”
She bends to brush her lips over mine. “I want that too, but you need to see this.”
The envelope’s contents flutter to the bed when she turns it upside down. Prints spill out. She spreads them out with a jerk of her palm over them.
I reach out to grab a photo of her with what looks like a mark on her forehead left by a pink-lipstick kiss. “What’s this?”
She glances at it. “Bella’s grandma gave me a kiss.”
I grab another picture, and then another. It’s me. I’m on the bed. She took them the morning she sang to me.
“I’m putting those in my scrapbook.” She plucks them out of my hand with a pinch of her fingertips.
“I want one for my scrapbook,” I tease.
Her eyes hunt for something on the bed. “You don’t have a scrapbook.”
“I want the one of you with the lipstick mark on your head.” I grab it again. “You’re beautiful, Emma.”
She picks up a print from the bed and hugs it to her chest. “Case. I need to…I want to… I know Delaney.”
I nod. “That makes sense. You love that bakery. She works there.”
Her teeth bite into her bottom lip. “I took a picture of her.”
I don’t need a picture to tell me what she looks like. I’ll never forget her face again. Sorrow consumed it both times I’ve seen her. That’s rooted in my memory forever.
“Can I show you?” she asks with so much tenderness in her voice that it bears down on my heart.
I feel it stall in my chest.
