“My childhood home looks like a tiny shack compared to this,” she says, waving her hand around in front of her to emphasize her point.
“Emma.” I turn in my seat to face her, reaching for her hand. “It doesn’t matter how small your father’s home is, or how big my parents’ is for that matter. They’re just material things.”
“We don’t belong together, Ashton. Can’t you see that? This just proves it. We’re from two different worlds.”
“It proves nothing. We’re not from two different worlds, Emma. I believe we both live on earth.”
“You know what I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not good enough for you.”
She bows her head. “Em…” I place my fingers under her chin, drawing her face back to mine. “You don’t really believe that, do you? If anything, I’m not good enough for you.”
“Right,” she scoffs. “You’re Mr. Fancy Pants, and I’m just… poor Emma.”
“I don’t care how little or how much money you have. All I care about is you… as a person. I’d hope you’d afford me the same.”
“I’d never judge you solely on your wealth.”
“It kind of sounds like you are.”
She sighs. “You’re right, I am. I’m sorry. It’s just… look at me.”
“I’m looking at you… you’re beautiful.”
“Look at how I’m dressed.”
“Again, Em… beautiful.”
“I bought this dress on a clearance rack, it was like twenty dollars. I bet your underwear cost more than my entire outfit.”
“You’re wrong, my underwear didn’t cost me anything because I’m not wearing any.”
My lips curve up when she gasps. She has no idea how adorable she is. All the money in the world couldn’t buy that—her innocence and incredible sweetness. It’s what I love about her the most. “Do you want to know what seeing you in that twenty-dollar dress did to me?”
“What?”
“It left me breathless, literally breathless. And it’s not the first time the mere sight of you has stolen all the air from my lungs.”
“Really? I did that to you… more than once?” A smile bursts onto my face.
See, that right there. Fucking priceless.
Leaning forward, I brush my lips with hers. “You do a lot of things to me, Em. Things that no other woman has managed. And that’s the honest truth.” I run the back of my hand down the side of her face, and she leans into my touch. “Now, we’re going to go inside, you, me, and your million-dollar dress, okay? You’ll meet my parents, we’ll eat dinner, and then leave. How does that sound?”
“It’s a twenty-dollar dress, remember?”
“On you, it looks like a million dollars.” And fuck me if I don’t mean it.
Emma’s cheeks turn the same shade as her pink lipstick. This woman has no clue how captivated I am by her.
She runs her palms down the front of her dress as we climb the front stairs. I reach for her, but instead of wrapping her hand in mine like I usually do, I entwine our fingers together. Her eyes move between our conjoined hands and my face, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Don’t be nervous. They’re just people, and no better than you or me.”
I use my free hand to ring the bell once we reach the door. It only takes a few moments for Charles to answer.
“Good evening, Master Barclay,” he says.
I nod my head. “Charles.”
His gaze moves to Emma. “Hi, Charles, I’m Emma.” I grin when she extends her hand to him. “Emma Phoenix.” Phoenix—I finally know her last name, and I like it. “I’m a friend of Ashton’s.”
My smile grows when I see the shock on Charles’ face. It’s probably the first time a guest has greeted him so warmly. Unbeknownst to her, it’s not customary to greet the staff in that way. Be polite, yes, but friendly, not so much. I love that she did—she’s sweetness right to the bone—and I hope she never changes.
“Good evening, Miss Phoenix,” he says, politely, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” she says, smiling.
“Please, come in.” Holding the door open wide, he steps aside allowing us to enter.
“Thank you, Charles,” she says as we pass.
“Your parents and their guests are awaiting your arrival on the back patio, Master Barclay.”
“Thank you.”
Emma’s eyes are everywhere when we enter the main foyer. With the expensive antique furniture and priceless art that adorns the walls, this place looks more like a museum than a home.
I give her a moment to take it all in before we start heading down the long hall toward the back of the house. “You do realize he’s just the butler, right?” I whisper.
“So,” she says, frowning. “He’s still a human being, Ashton.”
I feel her grip on my hand tighten as we approach the laughter and chattering in the distance. Her unsure eyes meet mine, so I lean in, placing a chaste kiss on the side of her head. “Just be your usual sweet self, Em. They’ll love you.”
For her sake, I pray tonight goes well.
We reach the floor-to-ceiling glass panels that run the entire length of the back of the house. My mother is in deep conversation with Mrs. Henderson and doesn’t notice our arrival. But, Willow does. She lights up, but once she realizes I’m not alone, it’s replaced with a scowl. Her eyes move down the length of Emma’s body before zeroing in on our conjoined hands. She better not start any shit.
My stomach churns as we step out onto the patio. My father is sitting by the large in-ground pool smoking a cigar with Mr. Henderson.
“Mother,” I say, gaining her attention.
“Ashton, darling.” She goes to stand but momentarily freezes when her gaze lands on my plus one. Mother’s eyes widen for the briefest moment before a huge smile breaks onto her face. It’s only then I release the breath I’m holding.
Rising, she quickly makes her way to us. “When you said you were bringing a friend, I presumed you meant Grayson.” She places a soft kiss on my cheek before turning her undivided attention to Emma. “And who do we have here?”
I glance at Willow over my mother’s shoulder, she’s watching us intently. “This is Emma,” I say. “Emma Phoenix, my girlfriend.”
Emma’s hand painfully squeezes mine, and I fight to suppress my grin. She’s going to kick my ass for that later.
My mother gasps. “Your girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
Emma tugs her hand from my grip, extending it toward my mother. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Barclay.”
“Likewise, dear. But please, call me Valentina.” She takes Emma’s hand in hers. It’s more than obvious Mother is taking a moment to size her up. It’s been seven years since I brought a woman home, and the last time I did, it didn’t go so well.
“You have a lovely home, Valentina. Thank you so much for allowing me to be here tonight.”
My mother’s eyes dart to me before the smile on her face grows. “Oh, Ashton, she’s lovely.” Her words have me feeling immediate relief.