Your Inescapable Love (The Bennett Family 4)

“Hell, yes. I love you.”

“I love you too, Emilia,” Max says simply. He breathes in deeply, and I have a hunch things are about to veer on the serious side. “I want you to promise me that you’ll talk to me when something is wrong.”

“I promise. I shouldn’t have let what happened in New Orleans affect me so much. It brought up all my insecurities and pushed me into a black hole, and I only realized it after you left my house. But I promise I won’t freak out and pull away again.”

“Also promise that you’ll be patient with me even when I put my foot in my mouth.”

“That’s part of your charm, Max. You’ve been doing that since the first time I met you.”

“What are you talking about? I was a perfect nine-year-old gentleman that day.”

I press my lips together, smiling. “Correction. I can tell even when you’re mentally putting your foot in your mouth. First time we met, you thought my boots were ugly as hell, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Damn, and I was so proud I didn’t say that out loud.”

“That was my lucky day. I was afraid of the thunder and you made me feel welcome and happy, which I hadn’t been in a long time. You had me the moment you said, I’ll be your friend.” I lift my head, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Max cups my cheeks with his hands, looking me straight in the eyes. “Good, because I’ve loved you since I was nine, and I want to love you until I’m ninety-nine, and I won’t accept anything less than all of you.”

“Max… you have all of me. You do. You always have, and always will.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

Epilogue

Emilia

Four months later

Nadine and Logan Bennett’s wedding takes place on a bright September day at the old Bennett ranch, which is now turned into a B&B. We’re all sitting outside on rows of chairs separated by a red carpet in the center, waiting for the bride and groom to arrive. The Bennett men all wear tuxes, and I’ve made up my mind. Bennett men in casual clothing are charming. In suits, they are delicious. But Bennett men in tuxes are irresistible. Max sits next to me, his hand resting on my upper thigh as he talks to Blake, who is sitting on his other side. The second the “Wedding March” starts, I squeeze Max’s hand, turning in my seat.

Nadine is possibly the most beautiful bride I have ever seen. She wears a princess-style, white dress, and her hair is styled in waist-long curls the color of chocolate. Mr. Bennett is walking her down the aisle. Logan is waiting for his bride at the end of the aisle.

I hang on every word during the vows, and do a good job at withholding my tears, until Logan turns his head slightly to Nadine and I catch the shimmer in his eyes. That look right there should be in the dictionary next to the word love. It reminds me of my patient Mrs. Henderson, and the loving look on her husband’s face every time he picks her up from the clinic. With a jolt, I realize the ache I felt whenever I saw the Hendersons is now gone. Max kisses my temple, catching one of my tears with his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers in my ear. “Don’t forget, I’ll always have your ass. I’m too fond of it to ever let it go.”

I chuckle at the reminder of our word play on I’ll always have your back, and place a chaste kiss on his cheek. After the ceremony is over, we all move inside the wedding tent, which is elegant and huge, given that it can comfortably house the two hundred guests and allow for a generous dance floor. Grams and her new caretaker are sitting at the table closest to the door. Max and I debated whether bringing her would be a good idea. I feared that seeing so many strangers might set her off, but Max convinced me to try, saying that she and the caretaker can always just head inside the house if the wedding becomes too much. So far, so good. I never told Grams about the meeting with my father. Instead, I told her we couldn’t find him at all, which hurt her, but not nearly as much as the truth would have.

“I think Mom and Dad should seriously consider moving into the wedding business,” Alice comments, walking in step with Max and me.

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Max replies. Abruptly he snaps his head to his sister, narrowing his eyes. “Is he here?”

“Who?” I ask, but judging by Alice’s grin, she knows whom Max is talking about.

“Apparently Alice has been carrying a torch for a childhood friend,” Max informs me. “She won’t tell me who he is.”

“Smart girl.” I wink at her.

“But I’ll tell you when he’ll be back in the country. Pinky promise.”

Max winces. “My masculinity just took a hit at that word.”

“Your masculinity will recover.” She kisses his cheek before turning on her heels and chatting up some of the other guests.

“Do you want to take a walk outside?” Max asks.