Forever In Love (4 page)

Present day, Morgan and Brian’s wedding...

The wedding planner stepped up to the band’s PA system. “Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom would like to get some photos of you dancing. Could we please all move to the dance floor with our partners?”

Emily’s sisters were already dancing with the men they loved. They didn’t need an announcement to do what came naturally. Even little Charlotte had found a couple of teenagers to dance with, and she was showing them the moves she’d learned at Grams and Paige’s dance studio. The teens applauded, then showed her a few moves of their own.

“Shall we, Emily?” Michael drew her into his arms without waiting for an answer.

They’d come to the wedding as friends, and as the maid of honor and best man, and now…well, now Emily wasn’t sure if she could stand there comfortably in his arms while the photographers snapped pictures. Not with so much emotion spinning and tangling around inside her.

But before she could try to protest, they were out on the crowded dance floor and the photographers were snapping the pictures the bride and groom wanted.

For her sisters, the moment looked so utterly romantic. Morgan and Brian were so utterly in love that they likely wouldn’t have noticed if an entire marching band were passing next to them just then. Paige and Christian were dancing so close, and in such perfect synchronization, that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began. Hanna and Joel were holding one another tightly and laughing as the photographers got their shots. Rachel and Nicholas were dancing with their usual enthusiasm and athleticism, heedless of the danger of crashing into other couples.

Only Emily was tense. As if she were poised to run and was only just barely able to keep from pushing out of Michael’s arms and running as fast, and as far away, as she could.

It wasn’t because she didn’t love him. On the contrary, she was very much afraid that she did.

Too much.

And too deeply.

Which made it
far
too much of a risk. For both of them.

“How long do you think they’re going to keep us out here like this?” Emily asked.

“They’re wedding photographers,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure they think they’re in charge of the whole day.” But from the serious way he was staring into her eyes, she didn’t think he was thinking about the photographers. No, she was almost positive he was thinking about
them.

Normally, they were able to give each other easy smiles. Because they were friends. But today...today it didn’t feel like anything would ever be easy between them again. All because he’d ruined the chances of easy smiles, and friendly dances, when he’d said
I love you.

As the photographer came toward them and the crowd of dancers seemed to close in tighter, Emily ended up pressed tightly enough to Michael to feel every nuance of his muscles beneath his suit. She knew he was in great shape from his construction work and the run he went for every afternoon—and she might have even secretly daydreamed about a moment like this in the past. But right now the last thing she could do was give in to her secret longings for him.

She tried to put some space between them, but the photographer immediately scolded her. “You look like you don’t even want to dance with him when you pull back like that. It will be a
terrible
picture for your sister and her husband, and I know you can’t possibly want that, can you?”

Oh, brother
. Yes, the photographers definitely thought they were in charge. But because she didn’t want to ruin her sister’s wedding, she had no choice but to move close to Michael again. Back into his strong arms, so close that she could feel his heart beating against hers and breathe in his clean, masculine scent.

“Do they need to take quite so
many
photographs of us?” Emily muttered.

“You’re Morgan’s eldest sister and maid of honor. Of course they’re going to want plenty of pictures of you. Besides,” he said in a low tone that simmered all along her spine, “you’re the most beautiful woman here.”

Yet again, he stunned her. Both with his words
and
the sheer longing in them. A longing he was no longer trying to hide.

“Morgan is the most beautiful woman here,” she replied, wishing her voice didn’t sound quite so breathless. It wasn’t okay to be breathless around Michael. For so long she’d succeeded at pushing away her desire for him. Today of all days, she couldn’t finally break. “She’s the bride. It’s the rule.”

“Rules are made to be broken.”

A few moments later, when the announcer cut in to say that they’d reached the end of the dance photography, Emily knew it had been a really close shave. Because she couldn’t have spent another moment in Michael’s arms, not when all of her secret longings were bubbling up from moment to moment. Unfortunately, as if Murphy’s Law were the rule of the day, the wedding planner had another message.

“If we could have everyone in the bride’s family, and their partners, over by the arbor, we just have a handful more shots to take.”

Steeling herself not to do anything to ruin her sister’s big day, she let Michael hold her hand as they walked over to the arrangement of chairs by the roses. Morgan and Brian were seated in the middle, and everyone else was on either side of them. Her sisters were next to the men they loved, and Emily was next to Michael.

Emily had helped plan these pictures with Morgan. She had agreed that it made sense for her and Michael to sit together. But that was
before.

Everything felt different now. After
I love you
.

Morgan and Brian were so perfectly happy today, and of course, Emily wished them every happiness in the future. But at the same time, she knew as well as anyone how quickly that happiness could be snatched away. How easily love could leave the kind of gaping hole it had left in her father after her mother’s death...and how horribly unhappy it had made him.

She felt Michael’s hand slide over hers. “Emily?” His voice was low enough that only she could hear it. “You look upset. You’ve looked upset ever since you danced with your father.”

She knew she should be keeping a perfect smile on her face for the pictures. But how could she when Michael was right next to her and she couldn’t find a way to close the lid he’d decided it was time to finally pry off?

“How could you?” she said in just as low a voice, while the photographers bustled about adjusting lights and her siblings talked with the men they adored. “How could you have said those things to me on the hill?”

He held her gaze, his as steady as hers was distraught. “Is it really such a surprise?”

“Okay,” the photographer said, “can we have everyone looking this way?”

Emily turned and sat, facing forward, doing her best to whisper to Michael out of the side of her mouth.

“Today of all days, with Dad upset the way he always is at these things…”

“You know how much I respect him,” Michael whispered back. “How much I owe him. But this is about us.
Just
us.”

“Come on, everybody,” the photographer said, and again, Emily knew he was talking specifically to her. “Let’s see some big smiles.”

Right then, Emily was the only one in the wedding party whose smile was faltering around the edges. Never in her life had she had to work at something as simple as smiling and having her photo taken with her family.

“Just a few more to go,” the photographer said encouragingly. “Hold that pose.”

Those few pictures felt like they took eons, and when they were finally cut loose, Michael reached for her hand before she could dart away and pulled her behind a rose bush where they could talk in relative privacy.

“If I thought that you would be happy with someone else, I’d back off. Even if I thought you really didn’t want me, I’d back off. But I know you, Emily. I see how you react every time we’re close together. Just like today when we were dancing, how your heartbeat sped up and your breath came faster. Just like mine did from holding you.” His dark eyes held hers, as if he were daring her to lie and tell him it wasn’t true. “If I thought you would be happy with me as the guy who lives down the street and just drops by for Sunday dinner and to fix things, I’d do that for you. But I
don’t
think you want that. I think you want more.”

He paused again, just long enough for her heart to leap all the way into her throat as he said, “Tell me the truth. Am I wasting my time? Are you looking for someone else? For a different man to love you—and for you to love right back?”

Emily’s lips opened.

But nothing came out.

To her sisters, Michael had always been a surrogate big brother. Someone who would look out for them. Someone they could go to when they needed help. Someone to do the job when their boyfriends needed reminding to be polite, or to listen to them when they thought Emily wasn’t being fair.

But with her and Michael, things had always been different. He’d been a friend, not a brother. And then, sometimes...sometimes she’d found herself dreaming of more. Of more than a friend. Of what his kisses might feel like. And of what it might be like not just to let herself fall for him, but to fall all the way, head over heels, heart and soul.

All her life she’d been the strong one. The sensible one. But just then, when she heard a photographer say through the rose bush, “Where’s Emily? We need to get a few shots of Morgan with all her bridesmaids now,” she nearly fell to her knees in gratitude that the photographers she’d just wished would go away weren’t actually done yet.

“I have to go. They need me.”

But instead of letting her go, he continued to hold her hand for a long moment in which she couldn’t look away from his eyes. She couldn’t hide from everything he was now showing her. Not only how much he loved her, but also his clear determination not to give up. Finally, he lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss.

One that was easily the sweetest anyone had ever given her.

The day after Morgan and Brian’s wedding, the Walker house was a hive of activity. Between organizing the wedding gifts, Charlotte running all over the place, and the phone ringing, the place had been a zoo. Grams had taken it all in stride, as usual, but Emily had felt a little frazzled. More than a little frazzled, actually, although she knew it wasn’t just because of all the noise and chaos in the house.

No, it was the noise and chaos inside her head—and her heart—in the wake of Michael’s declaration that had her feeling so off-kilter.

Day two after the wedding, however, was different. The silence was so absolute, in fact, that it had woken Emily up even though she’d been planning to stay in bed on the first official day of spring break. Then again, since she’d never been able to sleep in before, she supposed today wasn’t likely to be any different.

A few minutes later she was standing in the kitchen in her robe and old, but extremely comfortable, slippers, sipping coffee. And all she could think was that the quietness of the old house was almost deafening.

There was no one here, for once, which almost never happened. Or certainly not for more than an hour or two, anyway. Yes, there might be times when Grams and Paige were both at the dance studio, but nine times out of ten, one of her sisters or a friend would choose that moment to drop by. And that was if Emily was even at home. Sometimes, the line of students wanting to talk with her after hours seemed infinite.

Today, though, there was just silence. Morgan and Brian had left last night on their honeymoon to Rio de Janeiro. Their father was halfway to Italy for the school trip. Rachel, Nicholas, and Charlotte were off filming their adventure TV show in Las Vegas, Nevada. Grams, Hanna, and Joel had taken a ferry to Seattle for another round of press interviews about their documentary.

“Even Paige has gone,” Emily said to the empty house. “How did
that
happen?”

But Emily knew perfectly well how it had happened. Paige had fallen deliriously in love with a Hollywood star who loved her back just as much. They had left the island last night to get back to Los Angeles to attend a glitzy Hollywood event that Emily had once assumed Paige would always hate. But things like that didn’t bother her anymore, as long as Christian was by her side.

Emily didn’t begrudge Paige a moment of that happiness. She was glad her sister had found someone she loved that much and who obviously cared just as much about her. It was just…

Well, she thought with a sigh, it was just that she was so used to Paige always being around that she’d half-expected it would always be that way. The two of them rattling around the old Walker house under Grams’ watchful gaze. Paige coming in late from the dance studio, or trying to talk them into watching one of her favorite dance musicals.

Just like she did every morning, Emily started pulling out ingredients. Pancakes sounded good today. There was nothing like a nice, big pancake breakfast to—

Emily stopped herself short, her hand still gripping the bag of flour. She’d set out enough flour, milk, butter, and eggs to produce pancakes for at least four people. More, actually, because she was used to people dropping in for breakfast without warning, and Paige always needed plenty of fuel for her dancing. But all the ingredients served to do today was remind her of just how empty the house was.

The sound of the kitchen door opening was so loud that Emily practically jumped out of her skin. Who could it be? Who was actually
left
on the island?

But she knew, didn’t she? Knew that it had to be the one person she’d been waiting for all along.

Michael.

He looked good, just like he always did, even when he was simply wearing a casual shirt and jeans with his work boots. She, on the other hand, knew without a doubt that her robe and old slippers weren’t cutting it. Worse, though, was the fact that she couldn’t help wishing she’d actually brushed her hair and put on something nicer before coming downstairs, if only so that Michael would still think she was pretty.

Gorgeous
was what he’d said, and thrill bumps ran over her skin every time she thought about the intense way he’d looked at her while saying it. As if he wanted to run kisses over every inch of her skin...

“Hi.”

He’d been with her in the kitchen a thousand times or more. And yet, for the first time, she felt a little shy. And she couldn’t figure out how to calm her racing heart, either.

“Hi.”

His smile was warm. And strangely
normal
given what had gone down between them at the wedding.

This was the first time she’d seen him since Saturday, and a part of her had expected him to immediately make good on his vow to prove his love—and hers. Especially given the determination she’d seen in his eyes right before he’d lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss behind the rose arbor.

But he didn’t have any flowers, and he clearly wasn’t trying to sweep her off her feet. On the contrary, he was simply standing there, saying, “Do you want to go get breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” Her brain couldn’t quite catch up, not when she was busy getting lost in his eyes. Eyes that she’d never let herself get lost in before.

But in the
after...

He gestured to the big empty table. “I figured you wouldn’t want to bother cooking without everyone else here.”

Emily didn’t understand. Not just her own wildly careening feelings, but also what Michael was doing now…being so reasonable? Being so
normal
? What kind of guy declared his love for a woman one day and then carried on like nothing had happened the next?

Okay, so he was asking her out for breakfast versus eating here the way they normally did, but they’d had breakfast together in the Walker house so often that Emily often teased him that his own kitchen appliances must still be wrapped in plastic.

Maybe he’d rethought his declaration? Maybe he’d come over this morning not to prove to her that he loved her and she loved him, but to show her that she was right about the two of them just being good friends. Friends who went out to breakfast. Friends who didn’t make each other’s heart race. Friends who weren’t dying to kiss each oth—

She barely stopped herself in time, barely managed to remember that this was
Michael.
They’d been friends forever. And she couldn’t let anything change that. No matter how much a part of her might be dying to do just that.

“Emily?”

His voice snapped her out of her musings, and she made herself smile. Another one of those smiles that used to come so easily but were now among the hardest things for her to pull off.

“Breakfast sounds good. Just give me a minute to throw some clothes on,” she said, pleased that her voice sounded mostly normal.

“You mean the rest of Walker Island isn’t getting to see the fuzzy slippers?”

“Walker Island isn’t ready for the fuzzy slippers.”

Phew, there they were, back to their old banter, as if nothing had happened. Emily went upstairs, dressing in a blue cashmere hoodie that matched her eyes, new jeans that Morgan had said looked amazing on her, and her boots.

She breathed a sigh of relief—
that
had been a narrow escape.

And yet…

She couldn’t help but feel a small twist of disappointment that settled inside her as she checked herself in the mirror. The feeling that after everything that had been said yesterday, Michael
shouldn’t
have just shown up like nothing had happened.

But what did she want? What did she expect? For Michael to show up with a seven-piece band? To send a skywriting airplane out into the sky to make a heart of smoke with her name in the middle of it?

Stop. She needed to stop freaking out and just go to breakfast and pretend nothing had happened and forget all about hearing Michael say
I love you
. Just like he clearly had. Because whatever had him in its clutches on Saturday—whether it was wedding romance or too much champagne—the fever had clearly passed.

They headed out of the house, walking toward one of the cafés along the docks, and were barely on their way when Emily got her first compliment on the wedding.

“It was just lovely,” one of her neighbors said. “A really beautiful occasion.”

That was all it took for the floodgates to open, as it seemed that every local they passed wanted to talk about it.

“You must be so proud,” a painter said to Emily as she and Michael made their way past his studio near the docks. “Your daught—I mean, your sister looked lovely in her wedding dress.”

“Morgan always looks lovely,” Emily replied, ignoring the
daughter
slip as best she could.

“It’s always so hard when they grow up, isn’t it?” said one of the painter’s friends.

Did none of these people know that she was one of the Walker
sisters
? Surely she didn’t look old enough to be their mother. Then again, she had helped raise her younger sisters, so maybe it was no surprise that people thought of her that way. And she did feel incredibly proud of Morgan, the same way she felt proud of all the others.

“Your family is on a roll,” the woman continued. “Will there be any more Walker weddings this year?”

“You’ll have to check with my sisters on that.”

The painter nodded to Michael. “You’d better snap this one up quickly now that she’s the only available Walker sister left.”

Wow.
What was it with everyone? First they thought she was her sisters’ mother and now they wanted to marry her off.

Thankfully, Michael simply said, “Have a nice day,” then hustled them toward the docks. By the time they got to the café, she was dying for the kind of fried, fatty breakfast she usually tried to avoid.

“Do you have any plans for the week?” Michael asked after they finished recounting the wedding with all of the locals in the café and their meals arrived.

“I told Morgan that I’d help with the tours at her garden while she’s gone.” The tourists loved seeing where and how all the ingredients for Morgan’s makeup line got developed.

“I promised Morgan that I’d help out, too.”

“You did?” Why hadn’t Morgan mentioned this to her?

Her family had never tried to matchmake before, but Emily suddenly wondered—had Walker wedding fever changed everything?

“I promised Brian I would help keep the plants thriving while they’re away on their honeymoon.” Michael smiled as he explained, “He was worried Morgan would spend all her time in Rio worrying about her herbs otherwise.”

Emily laughed at that. Partly because she was sure Brian was going to give Morgan plenty of other things to think about on their honeymoon, but mostly because she could easily imagine her sister demanding regular updates on the state of her herbs.

“It looks like we’re going to be seeing a lot of one another over spring break, won’t we?”

“Looks like it,” Emily said.

She studied his face for a long moment, trying to see if there was a hidden message, or any kind of clue that he was planning something. Was this the moment in which he’d surprise her again with a big romantic gesture to “prove his love”?

But he was tucking into his pancakes as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Certainly not looking love-struck or angst-filled about whether or not she was about to accept his confession of love.

Which was good. Great, actually. Because everything was back to normal. Just her and her friend having breakfast together, with no romantic entanglements on the horizon.

With another sigh, Emily tucked into her own pancakes, working all the while to stuff back down the longing that had so foolishly bubbled up at the wedding.