He led the way to his bedroom, with its en suite bathroom. She brought along the package of supplies from the hospital.
“You should, um, probably take off your shirt first.”
He would be throwing away this smoky shirt as soon as possible. Bryce tried to work his way out of the T-shirt, doing his best to hide a wince when he moved his arm wrong.
“Let me help you,” she said. She moved close to him and he could smell her, clean and fresh and lovely, like a spring rain shower on a flower garden.
He closed his eyes, wanting to brand her touch, her scent, into his memory.
When he opened them, he saw her eyes were glistening. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Your poor arm,” she whispered.
“It will be fine. I’ve had much worse.”
She didn’t seem to take any comfort from his words. A tear trickled down her cheek.
“I was so scared,” she whispered. “When I heard about the fire, I thought...” Her voice broke.
Bryce reached for her, pulling her against his now bare chest. “Hey, I’m okay. I’m right here.”
Emma’s composure crumbled. She leaned forward, burying her face in his shoulder as she began to sob.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured against his chest. “You’re the one injured. I should be comforting you.”
“This is the best I’ve felt since you pushed me away the other day,” he told her solemnly, meaning every word.
Her gaze met his, murky green with emotion. “Me, too,” she admitted.
He gazed down at her, then finally surrendered to what he had been wanting to do all evening. Hell, it felt like what he had been wanting to do all of his life. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with all the pent-up tenderness and longing inside him.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, she rested her cheek against his chest, listening to what he was certain must be a rapid heartbeat.
“Oh, Bryce. I’ve been such a fool.”
He tilted her chin up so he could meet her gaze. “About what?”
“Pushing you away. Giving in to my fear.” She swallowed. “Tonight when I thought you were in danger, all I could think about was how I wish I had told you how much I... that I...” Her voice trailed off.
She took a deep breath. “How much I’m coming to care about you. I... I’m falling in love with you.”
Joy surged through him, white-hot and fiery and he gave a rough laugh before he kissed her again. He wanted to pull her onto his bed beside them, injured arm be damned. “Are you sure about this, Emma? About me?”
She nodded, then bit her lip. “You are... everything I’vealways dreamed of. Caring, kind, decent. I knew it from the moment I came back to town. I also knew you were far too good for someone like me. That’s why I pushed you away.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“It’s true, though. I’m an addict. I’ve been clean for more than four years but I will always be an addict. You deserve someone who can come to you without all the baggage I carry around.”
Bryce cupped her face with his uninjured hand. “Emma, I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I’ve wanted you since we were kids. Your past, your struggles—they’re part of what makes you who you are. And I love who you are.”
Tears spilled down Emma’s cheeks. She looked afraid to believe this could be real. “That’s the pain meds talking.”
“No. That’s my heart talking. The heart that has been yours for most of our lives.”
He pulled her close, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. As they parted, both breathless, Emma rested her forehead against his.
“Stay with me tonight?” Bryce whispered. “Here, in my bed. I won’t be good for anything but holding you, I’m afraid. Tonight, anyway. On the other hand, I tend to heal pretty fast. Who knows about tomorrow?”
