Chapter8
1084 Words
The days that followed their argument were quiet too quiet.
Emily and Ryan had gone from constant tension to radio silence, and if she was being honest, she wasn’t sure which was worse.
Ryan hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted. Not even a sarcastic "Good morning, sweetheart" like he’d taken to sending her after their deal started.
And Emily?
She told herself she was glad.
She told herself she didn’t care.
But when her phone rang that afternoon, and she saw Eleanor Blackwood’s name flashing on the screen, her heart lurched in her chest.
For a moment, she considered ignoring it.
But Eleanor was… well, Eleanor.
There was no ignoring her.
With a deep breath, Emily answered, forcing brightness into her tone. "Eleanor! Hi."
"Emily, dear!" the elderly woman greeted warmly. "I was wondering when I’d hear from you again."
Emily let out a small laugh, leaning against her kitchen counter. "Sorry, things have been… busy."
Which wasn’t exactly a lie.
She had thrown herself into work, trying to keep her mind off the storm brewing between her and Ryan.
Eleanor hummed knowingly. "Yes, I imagine things must be quite eventful between you and my grandson."
Emily’s stomach twisted.
She forced a smile. "Something like that."
There was a pause before Eleanor spoke again.
"Well, I was actually calling because I’d love to have you over for dinner this weekend. It’s been far too long since we last sat down for a proper meal together."
Emily hesitated.
Dinner with Eleanor? Alone?
Would Ryan even be there?
Would he want her there?
"Are you sure?" Emily asked carefully. "I wouldn’t want to intrude"
"Nonsense," Eleanor cut in. "You’re practically family, dear. And I won’t take no for an answer."
Emily exhaled, knowing she was trapped.
She could say no. She could make up an excuse.
But…
The truth was, she liked Eleanor. The woman was kind, witty, and sharp as a blade. And deep down, Emily wasn’t ready to sever the small connection she’d built with her.
Even if it meant facing Ryan again.
So, with a tight smile, she said, "Alright, Eleanor. I’d love to come."
"Wonderful!" Eleanor beamed. "I’ll expect you Saturday at seven."
As Emily hung up the call, she exhaled slowly.
She had three days.
Three days before she had to see Ryan again.
And she had no idea what to expect when she did.
Eleanor welcomed Emily with a warm hug as soon as she stepped into the grand estate. The Blackwood mansion was as intimidating as ever, but Eleanor’s presence always softened its edges.
Dinner was surprisingly pleasant.
Eleanor kept the conversation lively, and though Ryan was his usual guarded self, Emily couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered toward her every so often.
Like he was watching her, trying to figure her out.
When the meal ended, Emily started to gather her things, but Eleanor’s voice stopped her.
“It’s late, dear. Why don’t you stay the night?”
Emily blinked. “Oh um, I don’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense.” Eleanor waved a hand. “There’s a storm coming, and I won’t have you driving in it.”
Emily turned to Ryan, expecting him to argue.
He didn’t.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Guess you’re stuck here, sweetheart.”
Emily bit back a groan.
She should have known there was no winning against Eleanor Blackwood.
“Ryan’s room will do,” Eleanor declared as she led Emily down the hall.
Emily choked. “Wait, what?”
“You’ll sleep in Ryan’s room,” Eleanor repeated, opening the door like it was nothing.
Emily turned to her in horror. “Isn’t there a guest room?”
Eleanor gave her a knowing look. “You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you? Besides, it’s the most comfortable room in the house.”
Emily knew there was no arguing.
So, with a defeated sigh, she stepped inside, and Eleanor shut the door behind her.
Ryan’s room was exactly what she imagined large, sleek, and way too masculine.
She found his bathroom and stepped inside, letting the warmth of a hot shower ease her tension.
But as she emerged, wrapped in only a robe, fate had other plans.
Ryan walked into his room, rubbing the back of his neck.
The conversation with his grandmother had been unexpectedly insightful.
“Emily is a good woman, Ryan,” Eleanor had said, watching him over her cup of tea. “I hope you’re not blind to that.”
Ryan had only huffed, not ready to have that conversation not with her.
But now, as he stepped inside his room, his breath caught in his throat.
Because standing there, fresh out of the shower, was Emily.
In his robe.
Her damp hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trailing down her collarbone.
His entire body tensed.
Emily froze mid-step, eyes going wide. “Ryan”
He shut the door behind him, slow and deliberate. “What the hell are you wearing?”
Her grip on the robe tightened. “It’s the only thing in here!”
Ryan’s gaze darkened, sweeping over her like a predator assessing its prey.
He took a step forward.
Emily backed up.
Big mistake.
Because now she was pressed against the wall, and he was standing right in front of her, the air thick with tension.
“You should put on something else,” Ryan murmured, his voice lower than usual.
Emily’s heart pounded.
“Then move,” she shot back, trying to sound defiant, but her breath hitched when his fingers brushed against her wrist.
Ryan smirked. “You’re the one standing there like a deer in headlights.”
Her stomach flipped.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke.
Then a knock on the door.
“Ryan?” Eleanor’s voice.
Ryan cursed under his breath.
Emily exhaled sharply, the moment shattering.
Ryan took a slow step back, his gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary before he turned to open the door.
Emily rushed past him, her heart still hammering.
Because for a second just a second she thought he might have kissed her.
And worse?
She wasn’t sure if she would have stopped him.
- Writer
