Chapter Twenty-Three
Nash couldn’t believe that it was already Thursday. The days were running together in a blur of laughter and Emily’s sweet kisses. They’d spent some really good days together while he surveyed Millie’s land and tried to estimate its value.
Priceless.
He smirked. Well, at least the memories he’d made here were. West would appreciate a price that would please Trout too. The pressure to please both parties was agonizing. So far, he’d found three lakes, twenty waterfalls, train tracks that led to seemingly nowhere, excellent grazing land, trails covered by forest, fifteen barns with various supplies, and a few well-kept cabins.
He was having the time of his life with Emily.
She sat on the porch that morning, working on her latest song in white sweatpants and a tight gray tee. He’d overheard words like lazy summer days, fireflies and kisses—and even better, how she felt that kiss tingle through her senses from her head to her toes… much more earthshattering than fireworks.
He grinned, meeting her eyes through the window. She blushed and ducked her head with a shy smile. Man, her innocent looks filled his insides with a gooey kind of anticipation that made him want to rush to her side. He’d admitted as much to her, but he loved the kind of man that he was when he was around her. It only took bumping into her in Nashville to make him feel like he was home again.
She is my home.
Emily should make a song out of that.
His phone buzzed and he dug it out of his pocket to see that he’d gotten another text from Eva Trout. Mercy, that girl was relentless. He scrolled through her cluster of texts:
“You have my diamond earring?”
“Did you leave it in West’s car?”
“Has West asked you about my earring yet?”
“Is your brother worried?”
“I think West tried to avoid me at the party tonight. Do you ever get that vibe?”
“Do you talk to West at all?”
“Are you getting any of these?”
He quickly texted her back before she did something desperate like call.
“Can’t talk right now, Eva. We’ll catch up when I get back.”
Her reply was almost instantaneous:
“You’d better. I’m dying here! I want every little detail.”
Well, she could forget that! Nash stacked the pancakes on a plate while he watched Emily through the open window. He’d make a morning person out of her yet.
Scooping up the syrup and two mugs, one-handed, he balanced the orange juice onto the plate of pancakes, then wrestled with the door handle to bring Emily breakfast. Heaven help them all if he had to make a second trip. Maybe this was why lesser men used trays.
He managed to get the door open. He found Emily on the other side of it. She quickly rescued the plate of pancakes and the orange juice. “I thought I heard a commotion on the other side of this door,” she said.
Laughing, he followed her back to the porch swing where she’d been composing music minutes earlier. They deposited the food onto the side table.
“Wow!” She ran an appreciative eye over the golden pancakes. “Mornings are way better with you around.”
Nash smirked. Mission accomplished. He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Maybe I shouldn’t keep you up so late.” He’d been surprised to discover that she couldn’t burn both ends of the candle like he could, but then again, Porter usually yelled at him for trying to scrape him out of bed after a long night, too.
She nudged him with her foot. “But then I couldn’t set my zombies after you onMoondoogle.” They’d kept to the simpler games so that they could spend their whole time talking while they wiped out each other’s farms that they’d carefully crafted.
So far he’d left her prized peacocks alone.
He was finding out absolutely everything about her, and he loved every minute, from her favorite ice cream to how many kids that she wanted—five. One more than his family, and she’d like some daughters, too, thank you very much! And she’d go way over that number of kids to meet that goal, if it came to it.