She stared at him, and then deflated, sank back to the porch bench. “Dammit.” She covered her face. “Dammit.”
With a sigh, Stone sat next to her. “This isn’t your fault, Emma. You know that. Just as you know that if you want something, you have to go out and get it. If things haven’t worked out the way you hoped, then change them. You of all people know you can do or get anything you damn well want if you want it bad enough.”
She lifted her face and studied his. “Except that I don’t know what I want,” she whispered.
“Well, then, that’s a problem.”
“Do you know what you want?”
“Yes. I want to keep running Wilder, leading treks, volunteering with Search and Rescue, hanging out with my brothers, and until very recently, that list also included whatever sweet smiling woman came my way. Until a not-so-sweet smiling woman came my way, one who threw everything in my life upside down, proving that life isn’t easy at all, and shouldn’t necessarily be.”
She sighed. “Oh, Stone.”
He smiled solemnly. “Is this good-bye, Emma?”
She paused, not taking her eyes off him. “I once told you that we’d be a mistake.”
His heart took a good hard knock. “Yes.”
She surprised him by cupping his face and kissing him, a warm, heart-wrenching kiss, because he knew what it meant.
It was good-bye.
“I was wrong,” she whispered against his lips, holding still for a heartbeat, breathing him in.
Destroying him.
“Being with you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she murmured, and with one last touch of her lips to his, walked away.
He watched her go, rubbing his aching chest, knowing she was the best thing that had ever happened to him as well, given that he was head over heels crazy in love with her.
It took her a lot longer to pack up than it had to unpack, Emma thought putting her clothes into her bags. First, she had to keep stopping to blow her nose because her eyes kept watering.
Damn allergies.
Except she didn’t have allergies. What she had was a broken heart. A fact she had to hide every time the stupid cowbells jangled, which they did often. Not by patients needing treatment, but by the people stopping by to say good-bye. Missy came by with handmade tea bags.
“For stress,” she’d said genuinely.
Yes, that would come in handy. Tucker came by with a small, perfectly constructed wooden box. “For some of your doctor stuff, Dr. Sinclair. I made it in wood shop.”
It was so beautiful, and just looking at it made her ache. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You hate it.”
“No, I love it.” She hugged him hard. “Thank you.”
He awkwardly patted her back. “Dr. Sinclair?”
“Yes?”“If you love it, why are you crying?”
She let out a watery laugh. “Because I’m female. Thank you for the box, Tucker. I’ll treasure it.”
He nodded and escaped, and she sank to the stairs. When she’d first got here, she’d resented being called Dr. Sinclair in that formal, almost awed tone, but it wasn’t irreverent anymore. They meant it.
It was then, when she was all packed to go, that she realized. She wasn’t just Doc’s daughter.
Or that woman that Stone was seeing.
Or that fancy city woman with all the airs.
She was Emma Sinclair, and she fit in.
Hell of a time to realize it.
Chapter 27
New York, two weeks later
Emma jumped right back into work and everything was just fine.
Except it wasn’t.
She picked up extra shifts at the hospital so she didn’t have to go home and be alone. She ran herself ragged so that she didn’t have to think outside of medicine.
Yet every single moment of every single day for fourteen days she felt alone. The city was noisy, crowded. Everyone was in a hurry.
And it didn’t smell like Christmas trees.
She’d told Stone that nothing was ever easy and that everything came at a price. She hadn’t been kidding.
As unbelievable as it seemed, she missed Wishful and its slow pace. She missed the people, even Missy Thorton and her shockingly delicious homemade Thai food. She missed her father. Hell, she even missed Serena.
But most of all, she missed Stone, a man who’d shown her the fine art of smelling the roses, of being happy in the moment, a man who kissed like heaven and looked at her like she was his world.
After her shift, she went to Spencer’s, hoping a home-cooked meal would take her mind off Wishful. It certainly smelled delicious when she walked into his place. How he found the time or the energy to cook after a long day at the hospital, she never understood, but she was grateful.
But this scent was different, not a main course, but a baking scent.
Chocolate.
Her mouth watered. “I’ll take two of whatever that is,” she said, entering his kitchen, where her smile gave way to shock when she found Serena stirring something on the stove.
“Hey,” Serena said. “Just in time.” She lifted a wooden spoon dripping in chocolate. “Taste this. Too sugary?”
“Can chocolate ever be too sugary?”
“Hell, yes. If you go right into a diabetic coma, I took it too far.” She waited while Emma took a taste. “Good?”
“Amazing. What the hell are you doing here?”
“She opened the envelope.” Spencer joined them, clearly fresh from a shower. He looked happy and relaxed.