Songbird(27)

“Never leave again.”

She stroked his back and closed her eyes as her orgasm built. “No. Never.”

He lowered himself, covering her body with his. Only his hips moved as he arched over her, rising and falling as he dove deeper into her body.

The friction was nearly unbearable. Hot. Electric. Wave upon wave of pleasure flowed through her body, fanning out in a hundred different directions.

Sweet, like a song, hovering and balancing with just enough volume and then rising.

“Greer!”

Her cry was ripped from her lips, and she clutched at his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin.

“My love,” he murmured.

She tensed, her muscles squeezing, her groin clenched, and she tightened around him like a vise. He thrust hard and fast, his hips slapping against hers.

She couldn’t stand it. Not anymore. With a harsh cry, she wrapped herself so tightly around him that she couldn’t breathe, and then she flew.

Greer’s breath blew warm over her ear, the sound ragged. His cry mingled with hers as they fell over together.

Floating. Spiraling gently downward. She was surrounded by warmth and softness.

He pulsed deep within her and he remained still, keeping them locked together.

Home. Such a beautiful word. One that brought such comfort. She was finally home. With those who loved her.

Chapter Twelve

“Emmy, honey, can you come downstairs?” Greer asked outside her door.

Emily put her brush down, tucked her hair behind her ear and stepped out of the bathroom to see Greer standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets.

He looked uneasy, almost nervous, and that worried her.

“Greer?”

He relaxed and reached to take her hand. “Nothing to worry about. Promise. There’s someone here to see you.”

She cocked her head to the side, apprehension tracing a chilly path up her spine.

“Who?”

He grimaced and then said, “Frank.”

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back.

Greer stepped forward again and tentatively put his hand on her shoulder.

“Are you angry?”

She shook her head but wasn’t sure whether she was or wasn’t. No, she wasn’t angry. She was afraid, and that made her angry.

“No. I’d like to see him,” she murmured. “I should have stayed in contact with him.”

Greer’s expression softened. “He’s been worried about you, sweet pea. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. Talk to you. There’s no pressure, I promise.”

He extended his hand, and she took a deep breath before sliding her palm over his. He squeezed reassuringly and tugged her toward the door.

Taggert was in the living room with Frank when she and Greer entered. Taggert immediately rose, his gaze searching her features for—what, fear? Worry? She was such a coward. But with his and Greer’s strength and support, she could face anything.

“Emily, my dear,” Frank said as he walked to where she stood trembling beside Greer.

He waited a moment as if to gauge her reaction, and then he enfolded her into his embrace.

“You’ve had me worried sick,” he said gruffly.

She sighed, rested her head on his shoulder a moment and then pulled away.

“I know. I’m sorry, Frank. I should have called. I just couldn’t… I just couldn’t deal.”

“And now?” He peered at her over his glasses, his stare probing. “How are you now?”

“Better,” she said quietly.

He smiled. “That’s great. You and I have a lot to talk about, Emily Donovan.”

“Frank,” Taggert growled. “You promised.”

Frank raised an eyebrow as he turned in Taggert’s direction. “I promised I wouldn’t badger her. I just want to talk. No harm in that.”

“I won’t sing,” she said flatly. “I haven’t sung in a year. I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to.”

The memory of the haunting melody she’d sung from her heart at Sean’s grave shifted painfully through her. That was private. For Sean. She wouldn’t do it in public again.

Frank’s expression softened. “Come out on the porch and talk to me, Emily? I can’t stay long. My return flight is in a few hours. I have to be back in Nashville.”

She nodded reluctantly. She owed him this much. It was too bad he’d come all this way for nothing, but it finally solved the issue of her facing him again. Better to have it over with so she could dispense with the demise of her career.

***

Taggert stepped onto the porch as Emily stood watching Frank tear down the long dirt driveway toward the main gate.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

She turned, and he could see the haunted grief in her eyes again. Eyes that for the space of one night had been clear and beautiful. He sighed. He and Greer had a long road to travel with Emily.

Her long blond hair lifted in the back, carried on the light breeze blowing over the porch. It was like liquid sunshine. He’d always loved her hair. In the past it had always been indicative of her carefree personality. When she smiled, she glowed, the silvery strands adding to her warmth. It served as a reminder of all he and Greer wanted to get back. But could they ever truly go back?