Damn Wright (The Wrights 2)

He looked over at her and grinned. “You always did have trouble waiting for surprises.”

“Which means you’re not going to tell me.”

“How was work?”

Her mind drifted to the Somalia offer, but she didn’t feel ready to bring it up. She needed to have a better handle on what she wanted to do, or Dylan’s opinion and desires could easily sway her decision. And this decision had to be about her. For her.

“Slow. Work was mostly a steady stream of patients with abdomen and pelvic pain. Which is, of course, always preferable to, say, domestic abuse or gunshot wounds, but it makes the time go by slower. How’s the house?”

“I destroyed the kitchen yesterday. Floated and taped the new drywall on the ceiling. The plumbers came today, so the new bathroom and changes in the kitchen have been plumbed. Electrician comes tomorrow. Once that’s done, we move on to drywall, cabinets, countertops, flooring. It’s really coming along.”

He turned onto the street where the restaurant was located and slowed, looking for a parking space. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do when the house is finished?”

He parked, shut down the engine, and looked at her. “I have.”

Before she could ask what that was, he got out of the car and rounded the hood to the passenger’s side. He opened the door and offered his hand. When she stood, he closed the door behind her and wrapped her in his arms. “Let’s come back to this after dinner.”

Then he kissed her, a slow, passionate kiss infused with love. He made her just dizzy enough to let him lead her into the restaurant without asking any more questions.

And she’d been right—they were late. In fact, they were the last two to show up. And the sight of everyone sitting at the table together made the developing relationship between her and Dylan even more real. Real enough to shoot nervous tingles across her skin.

At a large table in the back of the restaurant, all the members of both immediate families sat talking. Her mom and dad, Miranda and Jack, Gypsy and Cooper, Marty and Elaina. They all seemed to have hit it off, their conversation animated as Cooper was passed between family members to be ogled and spoiled.

Before sitting, Emma greeted both her parents with a kiss and shook hands with Marty and Elaina. But she was wishing she’d refused this dinner. She felt like she had a boulder sitting on her chest. She moved around the table to the chair Dylan was holding out for her. He sat next to her just as a waitress came by and asked for Dylan’s and Emma’s drink orders. Dylan ordered two bottles of champagne for the table, and Emma’s nerves twisted a little tighter.

Dylan grinned at everyone around the table. “Looks like everyone’s met.”

“Long time coming,” Gypsy said.

“Very true,” Dylan admitted.

Before he could go on, the waiter was back, opening both champagne bottles and filling glasses.

Once the waiter left the table, Dylan raised his glass. “To family.”

“To family,” everyone echoed before clinking glasses and sipping. “Thank you for coming.” Dylan set his glass on the table. “I’ve only recently been able to accept the reality of how much I’ve hurt all of you. You’ve all been so accepting and forgiving, and it means the world to me. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed everyone until I got back.” He looked directly at Emma. “It’s about time I made it up to everyone. And to do that, I need to be here.”

The words didn’t sink in. They seemed to make as much sense as a toddler’s garble. She darted a glance at each face around the table, looking for clarification. But his sisters looked as surprised as Emma felt.

“What do you mean, exactly?” she asked. “You mean until you finish the house?”

He smiled and slid his hand across her shoulders and hugged her tight to his side. “No. I mean permanently. At least for the next two years. His gaze lingered on Emma. “I took a new job.”

“Wow.” Gypsy was the first to react. The idea evidently made sense to everyone else. Miranda and Jack looked thrilled. Emma’s parents looked surprised, but happy. “That’s amazing. Tell us about it.”

“I’ve been talking with a competing network,” Dylan said, “and they offered me a position that will allow me to stay in the States.”

“That’s fantastic,” Miranda said. “What’s the new position?”

“It was between being a network anchor and an investigative journalist. The anchor position required me to live in New York, but the investigative journalist position allows me to live wherever I want within thirty minutes of an airport, so I took that one. There will be travel, but only short trips. I’ll be home most of the time.”

Emma’s gut sizzled with that familiar blend of excitement and fear.

Dylan’s gaze met Emma’s again. “And just to make it clear that I’m all-in, I signed a two-year contract.”

Shock swirled in the pit of Emma’s stomach. Two years. The same amount of time she needed to commit to Vanderbilt.

Was this another sign they should be together, or just one more mountain for her to climb to reach her goals?