Honeysuckle and Roses (Harper's Mill Book 5)

by Summer Donnelly

  Emma felt her soul and spine began to tingle with awareness. Her chest tightened and she caught the unmistakable whiff of cinnamon, fresh air, and David’s own unique scent. She turned, cautiously, knowing he was nearby and unable to resist the temptation to see him. She zeroed in on his laugh as he helped one of the Baldwin girls with a particularly large pumpkin.

  Something ugly grew inside Emma and she was shocked to realize it was the hideous verdant green of jealousy gnawing at her soul. David looked so good in this town. With his easy grin and ready charm, he belonged in Harper’s Mill as though he was a member of the Old Families.

  Her breath caught and her throat closed up at the thought of possibly watching his life unfold in Harper’s Mill with a different wife. A different lover. Seeing his future children come into her diner with their parents. Knowing their dark eyes and unruly hair belonged to another woman. Another mother. She gasped and felt her knees buckle with the pain.

  “Emma,” Eden shouted, running towards her. “Are you okay?” She looked into Emma’s blue eyes. “What is it? Was it a vision?”

  How do you explain, Emma wondered. How do you explain it was a normal vision? A simple human projection outward of the facts. David belonged in the town and, eventually, he would marry and have children.

  With or without her.

  David turned at the sound of Eden’s shout and watched, horrified, as Emma fell. “Excuse me,” he said to the girl he’d been working beside. He jogged over towards Emma as she curled into a ball, sobbing as though her heart had shattered.

  “I got it, Eden,” he said to their host. Thorne grabbed David’s shoulder and raised a single eyebrow.

  “I got this, Thorne. I swear,” David said. He nodded to Thorne in tacit male understanding before hoisting Emma into his arms. Emma gripped his shoulders and sobbed.

  Thorne watched his sister with haunted blue eyes. Crying females, even sisters, were a touchy subject.

  “Emma? I’m taking you home, love. Okay?” He crooned, concerned over her ragged breathing and pale face.

  She mumbled something into his shirt.

  “What’s that?”

  “I need to help.” The words were enunciated clearly this time as she looked up at him with a shattered expression.

  “You need me to take care of you,” David said, soothingly.

  “No.”

  “Okay, fine. I need you to let me take care of you.”

  “I can’t do it, David,” she cried, sobbing into his once clean shirt. “I just don’t think I can do it.”

  “What can’t you do, love?” he asked as he stood her upright and pulled open the door of his truck. With gentle hands, he lifted her into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. He pushed her hair away from her face, concerned with her pallor. His hands looked dark against the near alabaster of her skin.

  David white-knuckled his steering wheel as he drove down the mountain and towards his house. Emma was a force in the small town. As the proprietor of The Breakfast Club, she served coffee with a side of advice. As an Evans, she helped guide people through difficult choices and decisions. She was on the Harper’s Historical Society and ran fundraisers to help purchase paint and building supplies to keep the downtown area looking its best.

  Emma Evans was a whirlwind of passion and energy. Seeing her pale and huddled and defeated was a shock. His eyes darted to her. Was that a whiff of fear he caught?

  How could this one woman have his inside tied tighter than a constrictor knot?

  How could she still be so indecisive over the fate of their relationship?

  He inhaled deeply, anxious to find a level of calm he simply didn’t feel. His fears, his insecurities were not a part of the production playing out before him.

  There were so many things he wanted her to know and yet, she kept him separate. No matter how hard he tried, she never fully allowed their lives to integrate.

  Did she realize what it was like to be rejected at every turn? Did she know what it was like to simply not fit in anywhere?

  He loved his parents but even they had no idea what it was like to grow up as the only Asian kid in Briar Grove, Ohio, population five hundred and one. They had been older when they’d had him and whether due to age or culture, they had never understood him. He’d been a disappointment to his father by refusing to go into the family business. He understood the importance of it, naturally, but being an undertaker? Just. No. He couldn’t do it.

  He’d been a disappointment to his mother for never having found a nice Viet girl to settle down with, although where they thought he’d find one in Briar Grove, he had no idea. He could have looked in nearby Akron where his dad worked but he had other ideas and plans in life.

  He’d probably even been a disappointment to Uncle Sam, cashing out early and not staying in a full twenty. But after ten years of reporting wherever, whenever, in the proper uniform, and always fifteen minutes early, he had grown tired of it.

  Harper’s Mill, however, reverberated with the pulse of home. Emma was home.

  In his entire twenty-seven years, this woman was the one thing he wanted and he felt her constantly slipping between his fingers.

  “What happened, Em? Why did you faint?”

  “I didn’t faint,” she mumbled softly, her hand reaching for his. When had touching him become so important? So vital?

  “Did you have a premonition?” It was one of the first things he had learned about her when they’d met.

  “Not exactly,” she said.

  He sighed and ran his fingers angrily through his thick black hair. “You’re doing it again. Stop running from me, Emma. Do you want me to go? Is that it? I’m pretty sure I could get a job working closer to my parents. Probably even with my dad. I chose Harper’s Mill because I wanted to give us a chance. Do you want me to leave?”

  Emma’s lips trembled and she felt herself dying a little inside. She lived for the moments when he came by the diner. Craved the moments when he would join their mutual friends for a picnic or a dinner party. Outwardly, she complained and fought and argued against it, but inside? Deep inside where her heart beat and her soul pulsed, she craved and savored those moments.

  “I did so give you a chance,” Emma argued, nervous energy making her hands tremble.

  “A handful of actual dates isn’t a fair chance,” David argued. His shoulders slumped with defeat. “I really thought we had a good connection, Em.” His dark eyes met hers. “Is it because I’m not white?”

  Emma stared at him, shocked. “What? No. David, is that what you thought? Is that what you actually thought about me? About us? That’s not it. I swear!”

  He reached for her, his long fingers brushing against her wrist. “Then tell me. Talk to me. Make me understand because we are so good together. Have such amazing chemistry. And all you ever do is push me away.”

  He pulled into his driveway and hit the garage door opener. “Come on. Let’s get you a cup of tea and then you can tell me what happened.”

  Her smile was as brief as a candle on a wind-swept afternoon. “It was the sight of you and Kelly Baldwin,” she said as she followed him into the house. Her hours of drinking, no sleep, and the stress of a wild surge of jealousy took its toll.

  “The girl who was working next to me?” David asked, filling the kettle with water. “What about her?”

  “I was jealous,” she admitted in a small voice.

  David took a deep breath. This was the only time he had heard Emma come close to admitting her emotions were involved. “Emma she’s a kid. Way too young for me,” he said.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then get to it,” he demanded.

  “You fit in Harper’s Mill,” she said, haunted eyes filling with tears again. “I see you so clearly against the backdrop of this town. You help and volunteer. You get along with everyone. You understand some of the peculiarities of our friends and neighbors.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” He placed loose bright re
d rose petals in his teapot while the water boiled.

  “You even make tea the right way,” Emma wailed, collapsing her head on her folded arms.

  David frowned at the kettle as it began to sputter and hiss. “I’m Vietnamese, Emma. I take tea seriously.”

  “I know.” Emma sighed and took a deep inhalation of the loose tea in the bag. “What are you doing to me, David?” she asked, china blue eyes wide as she looked up at him.

  The skin around David’s dark eyes tightened. “I don’t know,” he said. “I only want to love you and I don’t know why you won’t even give me a chance, Emma. Give us a chance.”

  “I’ve been afraid,” she said on a breathy sigh. Perhaps the alcohol was still fogging her brain. She hadn’t actually intended to say that to him.

  “Of what? Me?”

  “No, don’t be silly.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  Emma’s eyes flashed with anger. And fear. “I think I’m losing my gift,” she said, admitting it out loud.

  “Because of me?”

  “Maybe. Or because of me,” she said. “I don’t know. I think union with the wrong man can break a gift. Destroy it.”

  “And union with the right man?”

  “Can enhance it. Make it develop and grow. Flourish.”

  “And you’re afraid of which, exactly? Where do I fit into this?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. But I need to figure it out. I can’t see you, David. I can’t see us. And that scares the crap out of me.”

  “What can we do about it? How can I help?”

  She traced the line of his brow. “As I turned and saw you I realized something. Something big. Something huge.” Tears trembled on her eyelashes and her voice grew thick with emotion. “I understood that my own indecision might cost me the most amazing man I’ve ever met. My own fears might keep me from making a commitment and following through on it. My own insecurities might prevent me—” She rose mid-sentenced and walked toward him just as the water began to boil. She pressed her head against his chest and listened to the gentle, dependable rhythm of his heart. She began again. “My own insecurities might prevent me from bonding with the only man I’ve ever met who can make the perfect cup of rosebud tea.”

  He turned the flame off the burner and filled the pot. One arm still around Emma, he placed the lid on the teapot and allowed the leaves to steep. “Are you saying what I hope you’re saying,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. He pushed her hair away from her tear-stained face and looked into her eyes.

  She nodded. She stood on her toes and put her arms around him. Her kiss was gentle. Exploring. Tender.

  “But I need something from you.”

  He pulled her close and buried his head at her neck. “Anything,” he mumbled.

  “I need to get to know you,” Emma clarified. “So far, all we’ve really done is sleep together,” she said with a wry grin.

  “That hasn’t exactly been a hardship,” David teased, nuzzling the soft strands of her hair with his nose.

  She pulled back and looked up at him, the clear china blue of her eyes meeting the dark chocolate of his. “Can we date for a while,” she clarified. “Get to know each other?”

  He nodded, his eyes going to half-mast as he reached in for a kiss. “We can do anything you want,” he said, his lips a gentle friction against her own. “As long as we do it together.”

  “Together,” she said with a happy giggle. She reached up to deepen the kiss slightly. “I like the sound of that.”

  Chapter Three

  Their reservations were at seven.

  “I probably shouldn’t be seen at the Fire Box,” Emma said as she allowed David to open the door of his truck.

  “I hardly think The Breakfast Club and the Fire Box are in direct competition,” he said, brushing a kiss across her forehead.

  He did things like that all the time, Emma realized with a start. And she loved the way it made her feel. He was affectionate. Caring. Always touching her in some small way. Her parents were happily married but that didn’t mean she hadn’t seen her share of discontented marriages. A relationship with David Nguyen was never going to be cold or distant.

  She brushed against him like a kitten seeking heat.

  “Still,” Emma said with a stubborn pout. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

  She smiled as he pressed his hand against the small of her back and gently propelled them forward. “I haven’t eaten here in ages,” he said. “Thank you for giving me an excuse to have a thick juicy steak.”

  His hand felt good. Protective and strong without feeling dominant. Her heart beat a little heavier in her chest as she looked up at him.

  “Is that all I am?” she teased. “A good excuse?”

  The dark chocolate of his eyes grew serious. “No, Em. That is not all that you are. But a date at a fine restaurant seems a good place to re-start since that’s what you want.” He brushed a kiss across the bridge of her nose and winked playfully at her.

  Emma’s eyes opened wide with realization. They had known each other almost three years now. Was demanding dates and activities too much?

  She shook off her indecision. Asking for dates and nights out was not demanding too much. And if he thought so, well. Then he wouldn’t be the man she thought he was.

  He held the door open for her and she placed a small kiss on the line of his too sexy jaw. “It isn’t that I don’t want to make love to you, David. But it just seems we missed something along the way. Everything I know about you comes from naked times.”

  “I like naked times,” David growled, pulling her closer so the heat of his body imprinted itself on her.

  “I do, too,” she said quietly. “But this has to be for forever and that means we need a firm base, not just the haze of desire.”

  His dark almond shaped eyes stared into her delicate blue ones. “Were you really afraid this was only about desire, Emma?”

  Oh dear.

  “Of course not,” she protested. “Well. Maybe. But I’m a forever kind of girl and if I take your name…”

  “When you take it,” he interrupted.

  “IF I take it,” she repeated, her fingers lifting to touch his lips. “it has to be right on all levels. The sex is amazing but I still want to know we have something to talk about over breakfast.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, virgin ears here!”

  Emma glanced up, shocked at herself for momentarily forgetting where she was. Where they were. “Honor,” she exclaimed, hugging her best friend. “I didn’t know you would be here tonight. Who’s watching the babies?”

  “Don’t call Noah that,” her husband Spence said, hugging Emma in greeting before shaking David’s hand and pumping him on the shoulder in a masculine gesture of greeting. “He is bound and determined not to be a baby anymore.”

  Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “He’s growing up too fast,” she complained.

  “Tell me about it,” Honor said and Emma’s throat closed with emotion.

  Noah had been taken away from Honor shortly after his birth and she had missed the first five years of his life. Emma hugged her friend. “I’m sorry. I sound like an idiot compared to what you’ve been through.”

  Spence’s hand touched his wife’s back. “We’re together now, Honor. You know I would change those first years if I could.”

  “I know,” Honor said, her smile a bit wistful. She held her hand out to her husband. “We are together now. Forever,” she agreed.

  She released Spence’s hand and hugged Emma tightly before cradling her face in her hands. “Stop. You do not sound like an idiot. I missed years with Noah but I’m here now and I am determined he will never want to look back at the time before I re-entered his life.”

  The hostess looked at them expectantly and cleared her throat. “Hey,” Spence said, an easy grin replacing his earlier concern for his wife. “We both apparently have reservations. Any chance of switching two deuces to a four-top?” he asked. He loo
ked back at David and Emma. “Is that okay with you guys?” he asked. “I don’t want to interfere with your date or anything.”

  David looked to Emma, seeking her opinion. She smiled. “I think the better question is, will Honor mind? You have two small children at home with very little time to get out.”

  Honor waved her hand. “Don’t be silly,” she scoffed. She wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and pressed against him in a gentle full body hug. “I can’t think of a more enjoyable way to spend an evening than with my husband by my side and my best friend across the table from me.”

  “Well, in that case,” David said, loping his arm around Honor. “How about I sit next to you and your best friend sits across the table from me?”

  “I can seat you now,” the hostess said, marking something on her sheet. She picked up four menus and said, “Follow me.”

  “Get your own girl, Nuge,” Spence said, elbowing his friend out of the say.

  “I have my own girl,” David responded. “Not my fault if yours wants to sit next to me, too.” David held his hand out for Emma to take.

  Laughingly, Emma accepted his hand. “Who said I want to sit next to you? Spence and I grew up together you know. Maybe we even dated once upon a time.”

  “What?” Honor said as Spence held her chair for her. “When was this? Not in high school.”

  “Good grief, Em. You remember that?” Spencer complained.

  “You broke my heart, Simon Spencer,” she accused, forgoing their camaraderie for his formal name.

  “Do I have to kick his ass, babe?” David said. “Just say the word. Because I will.”

  Emma laughed and tightened her grip on his hand. “I think I’ve forgiven him,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  “What, exactly, did my husband do and when?” Honor said. She was clearly torn between humor and worry. Had her best friend dated her husband or was there a joke she needed to be let in on?

  Emma looked down, chagrined. “I’m sorry, Honor. I shouldn’t tease.” She paused to glare at Spence. “But your husband wooed me and told me he loved me and would be utterly devoted to me if only I gave him the cupcake my mother had packed in my lunchbox.”