forward and placed his head in his hands before running his fingers through his hair. “I resigned today.”
Emerson, still reeling from his emotional outburst, couldn’t hold in her surprise. “What? Why would you do that? I hope you didn’t do it for me?”
Connor shook his head. “No, I did it for me, Em. Well, mostly for me. And some for us. Spending time with you, getting to know you, and Jake and Liv, and what you do at the distillery, I realized I’d never really gotten to build something from the ground up. I’d been programmed since birth that I was going to take over the family business, but unlike you and Jake and Liv, I’d never been asked if I actually wanted to. It had always been assumed.”
Connor got up and paced along the blue rug he’d made love to her on so thoroughly only days before.
“And then my father decided he was going to stay on for another five years, and my uncle showed his true colors because it was him who sent you that document. And I could have stood and fought for the company to be better, but I couldn’t find the energy. I’d lost respect for my dad, and even if I got what was mine, then what? I’d be running a company I wasn’t passionate about. Not like you are when you talk about your work.”
Emerson huffed. “Hardly. I’ve been bouncing from one catastrophe to the next since we met.”
Connor came back to the sofa, sitting so close their knees and thighs touched. This time he did grab her hands, holding them firmly in his. “But don’t you see, Em? You held on with Liv and Jake. You found a way. You picked yourselves up. And together, you’re working on a way out. Because you care. Because you’re damn good at what you do. I fucking admire that.”
His words hit her firmly in the chest.
Had his actions been reckless? Yes.
But had they really done any harm? No. Not to her or to the distillery.
And he cared for her, passionately. He respected her. He recognized her need to rebuild Dyer’s. To protect Liv and Jake. She inspired him. He accepted her fully, as she was, slightly flawed, still learning, still a work-in-progress.
Before she could stop herself, Emerson leaned into him and their lips met furiously. Connor’s hands slid to her face, into her hair, holding her in place as his tongued explored hers.
“Fuck, Em,” he gasped, before kissing her again. “I’m so sorry.”
How had she thought she could live without this in her life? How had she considered that she could let a man who held her in such high regard go?
“Wait,” Connor said, his voice straining as he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away. “As much as I want to fucking devour you, I can’t until I know this is all squared away. Make-up sex and break-up sex are two decidedly different things, and I need to know which it is we’re about to have.”
Emerson bit down the smile that threatened. “It’s make-up sex, Connor. But you’re right. There are still things we need to discuss.”
Connor ran a hand through his hair. “Thank fuck for that, Em.” He took hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
All of her insides were churned up. And she banked the need to slide her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans. “You said you quit. What do you intend to do now?”
Connor’s eyes were hooded as he looked at her, his chest inflating and deflating at a rate far faster than normal. She was glad he was as breathless as she was. “I’m fortunate to have time to figure that out,” he said, finally. “I have savings, a decent network, some active investments that pay monthly. It’s not enough for the long-term, but it means I can be selective. I think I need to take my time and decide.”
“And your father knows there’s no way on this green earth that I’ll sell the distillery to him?”
Connor nodded. “That’s a definite yes.”
There was one last thing that was bothering her. Perhaps it was too soon in their relationship for it to be an issue, but she needed to know. “Does he know about me? About us?”
Now it was Connor’s turn to smile. “He does. I told him this morning how much you mean to me. He suggested it might be time for the two of you to meet.”
“And