Page 68 of Riding the Curve

“Em . . . it’s your Dad.” I laugh breathlessly.

“I don’t care,” he rasps as he continues his conquest of my lips. “Every. Damn. Time. We’ve always been interrupted. Not today.”

Shaking my head with a snort, I try to wiggle out of his grasp. He holds me tighter, peppering kisses all over me, causing both of us to break out in laughter.

The wooden floorboards of the cabin creak. “Son? You guys in here? I’ve got some great news to tell you all.”

Emerson reluctantly leans back. He releases me with a heavy sigh and I hop off the counter to face the mirror. While I try my best to right my appearance and calm the flush of my cheeks, he steps behind me and whispers against the shell of my ear.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet, Trouble. Dinner. Tonight. My place. Bring your apron.” Then he slaps my ass with the hand towel, flying out the door before I can retaliate.

CHAPTER 26

Emerson

Dad’s mouth curls into a smirk as I shuffle out of the bathroom. His hands are folded across his chest as his eyes roam over my appearance.

Clearing my throat, I stroll toward him and try to spin a convincing ruse. “Sorry, we were working on painting the bathroom. I guess the music was so loud I couldn’t hear you.”

“Loud music, huh?” He snorts. “What were you listening to?”

Shit.

“Country!” Henley chimes in from behind me. “Something about being back home made me want to put on some old classics from growing up.”

She casually strolls out of the bathroom, looking as calm as a cucumber . . . minus her swollen, puffy lips.

My Dad’s eyes bounce back and forth between us before he smiles and shakes his head. “Country music is always a good choice,” he says, tossing her a wink.

“So, what’s this good news you wanted to tell us?” I ask.

“Well, I know we’re still a few weeks out, but I just got off the phone with a good friend of mine from college. Mike Wallace, you remember?”

“Is he the one we used to go camping with every once in a while? Lives in Lake Tahoe?”

“Yep, that’s the one. Anyway, we got to talking, and his daughter is getting married, but her venue fell through—caught on fire and the whole place burned down.”

“How horrible! Poor thing, what are they going to do now?” Henley asks, true concern growing on her features.

A grin stretches wide on Dad’s face, and immediately I know his answer. “I told him we’d be happy to host them.”

Henley’s mouth falls open, and he lets out a laugh.

“They’re having a really small wedding, so there won’t be many guests. Everything is built. The cabins and the staffing were just the last of it. I believe that we can pull this off, if the two of you are willing to help me out?”

“Of course. I’m in,” I say. But I note the silence next to me.

Hen’s eyes are wide, her teeth chewing against her bottom lip. “What about the catering, who’s going to cook? I haven’t even started looking for anyone for you yet.”

She raises a hand to her chest. The panic beginning to set in. Discreetly, I shift myself a little closer and rub my palm soothingly over her lower back.

“Well, it’s lucky that we have our very own professional chef, isn’t it?” Dad grins.

I peer over toward Henley and watch her swallow deeply. Her fingers fidget within the hem of her shirt, and I can see the fear swelling within her.

“I—uh, well I . . .” She swallows again as I catch her hand begin to tremble.

I reach out and wrap it tightly in my own. “There’s no one more capable of doing this than you. We’ll be right by your side every step of the way,” I say in a slow and steady voice.