Page 98 of Beating Heart
Emerson
Oh, okay.
That wasn’t a typical response from her, so I’d probably pissed her off. But she was the one who was one foot out the door. I needed to do the same.
“Why didn’t Emerson come with us to Gramps house for dinner?” Cutler asked for maybe the hundredth time tonight. A reminder of how badly I’d fucked up. How easily I’d let this happen.
“Because tonight was just about us visiting your grandfather. We can’t spend every night with Emerson. She’s not staying forever. She’s just here for a few more months.”
“Pops, Emerson is my girl. It doesn’t matter how long she stays. I’ll still love her no matter where she lives,” he said, and my fucking chest squeezed at his words.
My boy loved so deeply, and it scared the shit out of me. I’d known it, and I’d still let him get attached. I’d never made that mistake before now, and I was so fucking pissed at myself for allowing this.
“It’s fine to love someone and let them go. As long as you know they’re leaving.” I cleared my throat as I turned down our street. The sun was just going down, and the temperatures always dropped this time of year in Magnolia Falls.
“You worry too much, Pops.” He chuckled, and movement on Emerson’s front porch pulled my attention.
There was a guy standing there with her, and the conversation looked heated. It was her stance that had me reacting. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her shoulders tense and eyes hard.
“Cutler, I need you to go sit on the chair on our front porch and wait for me. Do you understand?”
His eyes were as wide as saucers when I jumped out of the truck and helped him out and pointed to the porch. “I got it.”
I was moving before I even stopped to think about it. Her voice was louder than I’d ever heard it, as she shouted something at him that I couldn’t make out.
I was across the yard and up the stairs, with my hands gathered in his sweater as I pulled him back and shouted in his face. “Get the fuck away from her!”
“Who the hell are you?” he asked, shoving me back but not moving me at all.
This guy was weak, and I saw the fear in his eyes.
“I’m your worst fucking nightmare.” I stepped in front of him, my face inches from his.
“Stop, Nash. I’ve got it handled,” Emerson said, rushing to stand between us.
“Is this the fucking guy?” I asked, venom leaving my lips as I glared at him.
She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a long breath as she gave me the slightest nod. “Please let me handle this.”
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but I came a long way to talk to her, so I suggest you go on home, neighbor.” He raised a brow as he brushed the nonexistent wrinkles from his annoying-as-fuck V-neck sweater.
“Pops! Is Emerson okay?” Cutler called out from our front porch. I heard the concern, and so did she. Her gaze moved from me to our house next door, and she looked torn. Unsure what to do.
“I’m fine, angel face,” she called out.
“Everything is okay, buddy. Stay right there!” I yelled over to him before turning back to her. “Do you want him to stay and me to go?”
She sighed, resting a hand on my forearm. “Let me handle this, okay?”
Her words stung. I held my hands up and took a step back as the asshole smirked at me.
“You heard her. She’s fine. Go home.”
“You’re fucking lucky my boy is watching, or I’d lay you out right here, you weak motherfucker.” I flipped him the bird and stormed toward my house.
Once we were inside, Cutler started firing off eight hundred fucking questions, just like I knew he would.
Who was the guy on Emerson’s porch?
