The Best is Yet to Come

Thirty Eight: Noah

"It's the brick building up here on your right." I call to the driver. Through the open privacy screen, I see the graying gentleman cut the wheel to the right, pulling over to the side of the road.

As soon as the vehicle comes to a stop, I step onto the sidewalk and practically skip towards Emma's building. A couple of passersby give me curious looks as I dart past them. Remembering the purple dress she had picked out, I was more than eager to see her. Entering the building, I half-jog down the hallway to Emma's apartment, rapping my knuckles three times on her door.

My body is buzzing with nervous excitement. I shake out my hands and run my fingers through my hair, giving it a little floof. After several painful moments, I hear shuffling coming from the other side of the door.  The metal doorknob twists and rattles as Emma pulls it open.

It was like someone suddenly opened the shade from inside the darkest room and sunshine poured through, igniting the space with brightness and warmth.

Emma has her brown hair pulled into an elegant knot at the back of her head, her lashes are dark and thick, and her lips were painted a natural shade of pink. Fuck. I'm utterly blown away.

The dress is even more amazing than I remember. Every part of the dress was skin tight, like each piece had just been glued on. The dark purple fabric wraps around her neck and down her arms. Accentuating every curve, the dress clings to her waist and hips, ending mid-thigh, mercifully giving me a fantastic view of her legs. My breathing grows shallow when my gaze finally rests on the strappy black heels she wore.

I know I was just caught blatantly raking my eyes down her body but I don't care. Her cheeks are hot when my eyes finally connect with hers and I give her a genuine smile. My heart swells with pride. I am the luckiest man alive.

Now it was her turn to do the same and I watch her eyes grow luminous as she absorbs my fitted grey suit, black tie and crisp white shirt. I have to admit my mother does have good taste.

"Wow." She says appreciatively and I can't help but chuckle.

"Wow, yourself." I laugh. "Shall we?" I offer her my hand. She takes it, pausing to grab a sparkly black wristlet resting on the entryway table.

Leading Emma to the idling car outside, I pull open the sleek black door, sliding into the backseat after her. After adjusting the privacy screen closed, I turn towards Emma, not even trying to be subtle as I absorb her again. "You look absolutely magnificent. That dress was a great choice."

She looks down at her lap, shy embarrassment visible all over her face. Clearly she wasn't used to being complimented, though I can't imagine why. I mean, Christ. Look at her.

"I had some help picking it out." She jokes, avoiding my gaze with a small smile.

Feeling hot and honestly a little light headed, I lean over the seat, reaching up to touch the pearl on her right earlobe. "I like these, too. It's a nice touch."

She stares at me then, but I focus on her ear, lightly tracing the outer rim with my fingertip. Her breath catches in her throat, surprised by the contact. I lean in further, bringing my lips closer to whisper in her ear.

"By the way," I breathe, "you left these in my room."

I tug the scrap of black fabric out of my jacket pocket, and place it gently in Emma's hands, my fingers lingering at her wrist.

Moving my lips to her cheek, I plant a kiss and sit back in my seat, enjoying the look on her face as she recognizes the underwear in her fist. She looks up at me, blushing furiously and I can't help but grin at her innocence.

She balls up the panties and hastily shoves them into her sparkly wallet. An amused laugh escapes my throat and she shoots me a glare.

I raise my hands in defense, "Hey, don't get mad at me. I found them in my bed and I just thought you might want them back."

Emma rolls her eyes with a defeated smile. After a few beats of silence she asks, "So where is this dinner, anyway?"

I take a deep breath. I was hoping she wouldn't ask me that. "The party is being held at the Dean Ivy Cottage."

Her eyebrow cocks in disbelief, "The Dean Ivy Cottage? Like where you grew up?"

"Not quite. Just one of the houses my family owns. It's mostly used for functions, weddings and the like. Though my family can use it for residence if we wish to."

"Just one of the houses..." she repeats softly and I try to change the subject.

"Are you excited? My mother is well known for her spectacular parties, so tonight should be fun." Which was the truth. Any event hosted by Evelyn Dean was always a success. In fact, she was responsible for the town's beloved Winter Ball hosted every December since the late 1800s.

"As long as I don't have to dance." She laughs, turning her face towards the window. We were getting closer to the cottage and all that surrounded us now were thick groves of pine trees.

"What?" I dramatically gasp, "You're not going to dance with me tonight?" The thought actually made my heart drop into my stomach. I was looking forward to holding her close to me all night.

She looks at me then, "I was born with two left feet. Not happening."

"You know, it's all about having a decent partner to lead. And luckily for you, I am an excellent dancer." I flash a bright smile to help convince her. 

"Keep dreaming!" She laughs, her chin tilting up, and I shudder when she reveals her ivory skinned neck, and I couldn't help imagining what it would feel like to kiss the skin there. How she would taste.

Emma catches me staring again and gives me a disapproving look. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at you." I say, because it's the truth.

She shakes her head, "Have you no shame?" A hint of a smile touches her lips.

"I could never be ashamed of you," I say softly.

Her cheeks turn that delicate shade of pink I've grown I love so much. I scoot closer to Emma, desperate to feel her lips against mine.

"We're here, Mr. Dean." I hear the driver's gruff voice call through the speaker, my face a foot from hers. Emma chuckles when I bite my lip and sit back against the seat with a growl.

We roll to a stop in front of the house and I step out onto the cobblestone walkway, holding the door open for Emma. She takes my hand and I help her out of the car, pausing to admire the look on her face when she gets her first glimpse of the Dean Ivy Cottage.