Small trigger warning for this one, guys, but I don't want to spoil anything so if you're concerned, please feel free to reach out to one of us and check about it.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing and to Pamela for pre reading!

-26-

Rose

July 9, 2023

Lighthouse Cove, Maine

"Is this what I can expect from you every day?" I muse, sliding into the passenger seat of a golf cart Emmett had rented to get us around the island.

Sure enough, he has another surprise up his sleeve, and it's making me anxious. The man is stubborn as a bull when it comes to his surprises, and I'm not sure my heart can keep taking all this excitement.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" He asks, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes and flashing me that dimpled grin that ruins me every time.

"All these grand surprises. You don't have to try so hard to get between my legs, you know," I tease, digging around in my purse for my own pair of sunglasses.

"Oh, baby girl, I'm well aware of that fact." His arms flex as he drives us out from in front of the house I share with the girls.

"So then why all the effort?" I ask him, one hand playing with the hem of the black sun dress I chose to wear today.

"Why are you always questioning why I do things for you? It's just because I want to, Rose. That's it. Hasn't anyone wanted to do nice things for you just because before?"

My first instinctive response hurts to think about, because…no, not really. Aside from the girls, usually when people do things for me it's because they want something in return. Even with Royce, who lured me into a false sense of being loved because I was weak enough for him to mold into exactly what he wanted me to be.

"Not really," I simplify, shrugging.

Emmett shakes his head, his smile faltering for a bit. "Well that's a damn fucking shame, and a fact you're just going to have to get used to."

"That you want to do nice things for me?"

"Yeah, of course. You know me well enough to know I don't do shit unless it's something I want to do. That's why I do freelance writing instead of signing with a company that could make me a lot more money."

"I thought you did well for yourself?"

"I do, but it could be better. I've had contracts laid in front of me that make me consider it, but I just can't give up my freedom like that."

"Bella is like that. She told us in college, she could never imagine being tied down, so she found a career that let her travel the world. In a way, I've always envied her for it."

"Sounds to me like she knows what she's doing. They say if you find the thing you love, you'll never work another day in your life. For me, that's music, writing, and traveling. I make enough that money isn't something I really worry about, and that's all that matters. I'm happy, at least in the professional and financial sense."

"But you're not happy overall?"

He contemplates this, keeping his eyes on the road as he chews his lip. "It gets lonely. I have friends all over the world, but none of them are close friends. In a way, I've always envied you for your relationship with the girls. I'd kill to have a connection like that with someone."

"They are the absolute best. I'm extremely lucky, of course, but they don't keep the loneliness at bay."

"No?"

I shake my head.

"Yeah, I mean, living alone when you're used to always having someone around sucks. Royce was a shit, yeah, but at least there was a body in the house that I could talk to. Not that I really did, much. I'm sorry, I don't want to, like… talk about my ex all the time," I laugh, waving my hand as if to brush away the memory of my ex-husband.

"He was a big part of your life, it'd be weird if you didn't talk about him," Emmett shrugs, arm flexing as he steers the golf cart.

"But doesn't that make you feel weird in some way? Like I can't let go or something? Because believe me—"

"Rose, stop. Of course it doesn't, I was there, remember? I know you're done with that dumb fuck. But baby…divorce is fucking hard and you're processing and healing, so talk about him all you want."

It makes my heart clench, the way he can just say shit like that like it's so easy. And maybe it is for him, because that's who Emmett is. He's a simple man, who sees life for what it is and understands that he's dealing with someone that's a little battered and bruised.

And he's okay with it. He's patient with me. It speaks volumes of his character, and it makes me slip just a little further into him despite myself.

"He just…he used me, honestly. Once we were married I was expected to be the doting little wifey, there to serve him and do his bidding." Emmett's nose wrinkles in what I can only discern as disgust, but I push on. "He was happy with our quaint little life. He didn't want to grow, or build anything, or…" I fade off, the frustration from the situation clearly not gone.

It makes me angry. Because I was a damn good wife. One of the best, if I do say so myself, and he didn't fucking deserve it.

I was just too weak to put up a fight for what I'm worthy of. It's really hard to find yourself worthy when you're too weak to realize the situation you're in is bad for you.

I'm not weak anymore. I may be piecing myself back together, but I know it's all there and I know once I find it I'll have a crystal clear picture of what I want my life to be.

"And you wanted all that?" Emmett asks after a few moments of silence.

"Well, yeah! That's what you do when you get married. You move up in your career, you buy a house, you pop out some kids…" something claws at my throat with the last bit. Something I haven't thought about in a very long time.

And guilt crashes into me when I remember.

"Rose, what's going on?" Emmett turns his head towards me, eyes hidden from his glasses but his voice is laced with concern.

I've never, not once, contemplated telling anyone this. It's usually a part of my story that doesn't need to be told. A smudge on my record that people don't need to know about.

The girls are the only ones in the world, besides Royce and I, that know what happened.

Am I really about to tell Emmett this huge secret about myself?

It could change how he looks at me entirely, but…

"If you don't tell me, I'm pulling this golf cart over." He's stern when he speaks this time, because I know he's only worried about me, but he has no idea what kind of war is raging in my head right now. "Did Royce hurt you?"

"No," I scoff. "Not in the way you mean, I just…"

I'm fumbling, floundering, battling what my heart and my head are telling me to do because what if this is too much for him?

And why does it scare me so much that it could be?

"Hey," the golf cart slows and eventually stops on the side of the road, and Emmett reaches for my hand which he brings to his lips before setting in his lap and turning awkwardly in his seat to look at me. "You're safe with me, you got it?"

Seven words. Seven words and the gesture of his attention and I'm no longer second guessing letting him into this part of my world.

"I had a miscarriage." Like ripping a bandaid, I let those painful words fall from my lips before I lose the courage and never tell him.

"Fuck…" he curses, and I can tell he doesn't know what to say. I don't blame him, I wouldn't either. "Jesus, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Well, it's not, but…you know." I take a deep breath, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. "I'm fortunate, really. I didn't even know I was pregnant yet when I lost the baby. I didn't have time to even dream it into existence or plan how to decorate the nursery."

"That doesn't matter. It still fucking sucks." He's emphatic, squeezing my hand like I'll drift off if he doesn't. Maybe he knows I need to be tied down sometimes, too. That my thoughts and my darkness will carry me away, but he's Emmett and he has this way of knowing exactly what I need and when I need it.

"Yeah," I nod. "The worst part was Royce's reaction, though."

I'll never forget the look on his face when I told him. Just…lacking emotion. Like our child was only a blip on his radar he didn't need to worry about because now it's gone.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Emmett asks, his jaw clenching in anger.

"He didn't exactly do anything wrong." Even as I say it, I wonder why I'm bothering to defend him still. "He just told me that we didn't have time for a baby anyway. At first, I chalked it up to his way of coping. It was easier for him to be flippant about it because it hurt less that way, but then… well, then I opened my eyes and I realized that what he really meant by that was that I wouldn't have time to keep taking care of him."

"That's fucking disgusting, Rose," Emmett urges. I can feel the anger radiating off of him. "You left him after that, right?"

I shake my head. "Not immediately, though now I can admit that was the beginning of the end."

Emmett takes a deep breath, then he lets go of my hand. He gets out of the golf cart, walks around it, and pulls me into the road where he gives me the biggest bear hug I think anyone has ever given me.

And somehow, it heals me.

Not entirely. That's a wound I'll carry with me for the rest of my life. But enough that his arms around me instantly soothes the ache of loss in my chest and replaces it with…something.

Something I'm not ready to look directly at.

…

When we pull up to the beach, I have to assume Emmett's surprise is just a day at the beach, and it puts me at ease a little bit. I don't mind him putting some sort of spin on what I spend most days doing at Lighthouse Cove, because somehow being with Emmett alone makes it special.

I soon realize, however, that this is going to be a little bit more than a flirty, fun day in the sand.

Several cameras are set up, crew walking around running wires from…somewhere. I'm not exactly thinking about where their electric source is, because I spot the members of Decode sitting in chairs getting their makeup done.

"What the fuck is this?" I inquire, planting my hands on my hips.

"You ever seen a music video be shot?" Emmett gets out of the cart and holds his hand out for me to meet him.

"Well…no," I follow his silent instructions and I'm soon hand in hand with him, only stopping to remove my flip flops when we hit the sand.

"Well today is your day," he beams.

"Emmett, what the fuck? How did you make this happen?"

He shrugs. "I went and got drinks with the band while I was waiting to see if you were gonna send me packing or not. They mentioned wanting to do this video, and I convinced them to shoot it in Lighthouse Cove to bring the town a little more money and exposure."

"So even though I told you to leave, you were still planning on staying?" My words may sound stern, but I secretly love that he wasn't willing to give up on me so easily.

"Obviously," he scoffs. "Haven't you figured it out yet? You're not getting rid of me."

I don't have time to respond before a man is calling to Emmett from his seat where a woman is applying powder to his cheek.

"Eleazar! Hey, I want you to meet Rose. Rose, this is Sasha and Eleazar, I'm sure you recognize them." Emmett introduces me with a Vanna White-esque gesture that makes me a little nervous.

"Of course I do, you guys are brilliant!" I deflect, shaking both their hands.

"Thanks, love, I'm glad you enjoyed the set. Em told us he ran into you there. In fact, he's told us a lot about you," Eleazar gives a suggestive eyebrow wiggle and Sasha slaps his arm.

"All good things, of course," she adds, switching to a brush for eyeliner.

They're adorable, finishing each other's sentences like that and the way they lean into each other seems so effortless, like their two magnets being pulled together. It makes me think how wonderful it must be to be in love and sharing music together like this. It's one of those moments where you want what someone else has, and I can't help but cast my eyes toward Emmett and wonder if I could maybe have it with him.

"So, what made you guys decide to shoot the video here?" I ask, opting to change the subject rather than lean into my thoughts.

"It was all Emmett, really," Sasha admits. "We've got this album we're trying to get off the ground and we needed a video, but we just couldn't figure out the logistics of it."

"And then Em swoops in like the knight in shining armor he is and set this whole thing up. He's fucking brilliant," Eleazar finishes.

Something in my chest is shifting in Emmett's direction, but I don't have time to dwell on it before I'm swept up in the excitement of the day.

It's fucking amazing watching all these people work together to create this piece art. Camera people and lighting professionals, guys with audio equipment, along with the director and the rest of the band. All these moving pieces, each equally important, orbiting around Sasha and Eleazar because they have that kind of energy.

It amazes me that they're not bigger than they already are. They have this way of drawing people in, making people feel the power of their love with their lyrics, and I'm happy this is a love song they're recording today because I'm honored to be here and be a part of this.

It's a longer process than I expect, we're out there for hours and hours, but I'm so caught up and fascinated trying to absorb every bit of what's happening around me, I forgot Emmett is even there.

"Hey, Rose, is it?" The director calls over to me and I snap my head in their direction. "Hey! You wanna come look at the clips we got?"

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great," I stutter, ravenous to get to see more.

She leads me over to a small table that has all sorts of equipment set up, most of which I'm already familiar with, and a laptop sitting right in the middle of the mess. Her name is Angela and she's all sorts of badass, dressed like Sandy from Grease with her dark hair in victory rolls on top of her head and a red bandana wrapped around her hair to match her lipstick.

Part of me kinda wants to be her when I grow up.

"So, this is just raw footage," she explains, "But I'm gonna make it a little dirtier and grittier with filters, maybe make it black and white."

I love everything she's saying. It's going to be beautiful, and it will absolutely add a visual element to the song that will give it more impact, but…

"Angela, I really hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries, but I have a few ideas if you don't mind?" I offer, chewing my lip.

"Mind? Girl, I love that shit, lay it on me."

I think I only have the courage to share my thoughts with her because I'm used to this industry. It's a place I've never doubted myself in, a place I've always succeeded.

I ramble on about various things that could be changed, and Angela's eyes light up and it only excites me and makes me think of more things. My creative juices are flowing in a way they never have, and moments later I even convince her that we need a shot of Sasha and Eleazar in the crashing waves while they belt out the pinnacle part of the song.

Minutes later we're filming that exact shot, and a seat has been pulled up for me right beside Angela's.

It's fucking…breathtaking.

So breathtaking, I have tears stinging my eyes when I feel Emmett's arm slide around my waist and his head nuzzle into my neck from behind me.

"You're fucking incredible," he whispers against my skin, the heat of his breath traveling all across my body to touch every inch of me.

"Where have you been all day?" I ask quietly, leaning back into him. His scent wraps around me the same time his other arm does, and I sigh, so happy I can't see straight.

"I've just been watching."

"Pervert," I tease, a grin dancing on my lips.

"Only because of what's been on my mind all day," his voice drops and he nips at my neck, making me clench my thighs.

"And what's that?" I breathe, although I think I know what the answer is.

"Bending you over and lifting that little dress up so I can bury myself in you," he kisses right beneath my jaw, and it's such a soft gesture but it takes everything in me not to moan in front of everyone.

"Rose, come look!" Angela yells, startling me enough I shoot out of my chair and Emmett's arm, who's laughing because my cheeks are turning red in embarrassment.

"Asshole," I accuse, pointing a finger at him.

He pouts.

"Soon," I promise, grabbing his hand to drag him to the table with me. Even though I can't ride him right here, right now, doesn't mean I have any urge for him to leave my side.

"Okay, it's rough, but I wanted to draft this up so you could see what you've been helping with all day," Angela says excitedly. She touches the mouse pad on the computer and the video comes to life.

It needs work, of course, but for the most part it's entirely perfect. Thanks to my suggestion, it starts in color, opening up to only Sasha and Eleazar standing at opposite ends of the beach. As the song progresses, they get closer, until they're holding hands. There's a shot of them walking together, the color slowly fading, and then a few shots of them with the band, followed by some playful scenes in the dunes. The color drains more and more, because the song is about a couple growing old together, and it does the exact job I wanted it to to portray the passage of that time along with the words.

And then they're in the waves, Sasha's skirt soaked and Eleazar clinging to her while they hit the crescendo, and it ends with an entirely colorless screen fading to black.

If the tears rolling down my cheek are any indication, it's a fucking masterpiece.

"Ange-"

"Don't even start with me, that was you, honey. You're the one that made it hit that hard."

"Told you," Emmett chimes in. "She's fucking incredible."

"Have you ever done anything like this before?" Angela asks, pointing to the screen.

"I work at a radio station," I shrug.

"That's so not the same. That's just pimping other people's art, though I'm very happy people like you exist. But you've never been a part of the process?"

I shake my head.

"That's a damn shame. Well, if you ever decide to do something like this, you give me a call. Em has my number. You're a fucking natural," and with that she starts packing up.

I'm flabbergasted, to say the least. Not to mention filled with this immense pride that I'm not sure what to do with.

I love it at the station. Like, really love it. But it's also a lot of administrative work when the parts I love are when I can actually get out into the field.

Maybe I can talk to Aro about doing more of that when I get back, because I don't want this to be the last time I feel something like this.

…

The sun was setting but the time the crew packed up entirely and we said our goodbyes to the band, my heart filled with an entirely new feeling I couldn't yet identify. Something mixed with pride and longing, maybe mixed with a little renewed ambition.

The moon is high and bright in the sky, and we're far enough away from any major cities that it's able to light up the beach in the kind of glow that makes it easier for me to breathe.

Bella and Alice have always been the kind of girls to love the sand and the sun and the heat, but this is when I find my peace on the shore.

When it's dark. Cool. Quiet. The seagulls have gone to sleep and the only sound is the wind and the waves.

"I need you to come with me," Emmett interrupts my thoughts by grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the water.

"Emmett, what the fuck are you—"

"No time, come on."

My stubborn streak kicks in and I pull back, planting my feet in the sand, but when he turns around and towers over me with that fucking darkness in his eyes I've learned all too well in the past few days, it shuts me right up.

"That's what I thought," he affirms, continuing his march.

I don't know where he plans to take me, we're completely out in the open and I'm hoping he's not quite that bold. Public play may be a kink of mine, but you have to at least try to hide.

I'm two seconds away from another fake tantrum when my eyes land on exactly where he's planning to take me.

The lighthouse, its beam rotating to warn sailors of impending land.

"Emmett, you have got to be fucking kidding me," I chastise, my body running cold at the implication of getting caught in the namesake place of the island.

It's a place people come to a lot, a big tourist attraction. The girls and I have a picture in front of this lighthouse taken every single year, but at night it's largely abandoned.

"I'm so fucking not," he states, his persuit fierce and focus.

We make it to the door of the lighthouse and Emmett twists the knob, only to find it locked because of course it is, and I give him a smug shove.

"Oh yeah? Now what are you gonna do, lover boy?" I even pat him on the ass, which makes him jump and glare at me.

"Rose, I think now is the time you learn the rules of Emmett."

"Rules?"

He nods. "Number one," his index finger comes up in emphasis. "Emmett is a bitch. Rule number two," he adds a finger. "See rule number one. And last but not least, rule number three," a third finger joins the other two. "Never underestimate him."

He turns back to the door, taking his keys from his pocket and hunching so I can't see what he's doing. A few jingles later I hear a click and the door wings open.

"What kind of Macgyver shit is this?" I exclaim, slapping his arm. "Who even are you?"

"Rule three, baby," he flashes me that heart stopping smile, opening the door wider and waving me inside.

The mood shifts the moment the doors shut, blocking out any form of light we may have had before. The bottom of the stairwell is small, small enough I feel the space closing in on me, but I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face.

I can feel Emmett even though he's not touching me, my vision being hindered heightening all my other senses.

"Hands and knees on the stairs," his voice licks up my spine, dark and dangerous, and even though I trust him implicitly there's a fear finding its way into my stomach. It's the kind of fear that makes this better, sets me on edge and sends delicious chills all over my body.

I follow his orders, finding my way to the stairs on pure instinct. My knees hit the cold linoleum and my hands follow in front of me, and he's right behind me in an instant.

His body covers mine fully and completely, and one hand wraps around my waist while the other lifts up my dress and then slips in between my legs.

"Fuck," he groans in my ear the same moment I gasp. "How long have you been wet for me like this?"

"All day," I whisper, my hips pushing back against him.

"Fucking need you," he grumbles and then he's fumbling around, pushing his shorts down and my panties to the side.

He presses and shifts and then he's sinking fully into me, pressing my face against the stairs until I can feel my breath against my own lips when I moan.

Emmett sits up, one hand gripping the back of my neck while the other holds onto my hip, setting a punishing pace that wakes up every cell in my body. Each and every thrust teaches me a new definition of pleasure and soon I'm clamping and convulsing around his cock, my hands fruitlessly gripping for something to keep me tethered to the earth.

The hand on my neck smooths down my back to land a sharp smack on my ass before both of his hands are digging into me. A few thrusts later, he's falling over the edge behind me and collapsing into my back. His teeth sink into my shoulder, giving one last jolt, before he's shifting to sit on the stairs and pulling my shaking form into his lap.

"I can't believe you went through all this trouble," I laugh finally, referring to the trek to the lighthouse when we literally were about to head back to the house I share with the girls.

"Good things are always worth the fight." I feel him shrug from my spot on his chest, and I don't have to see the look on his face to know the implications of his words.

Maybe I'm starting to think he may be right.