Brant gave her another kiss, resting his hand on her ass. “Fuck it. I’ve worked damn near around the clock for weeks. I think they can manage without me for an afternoon.” Emma giggled, pulling his hand away from her butt before they walked out into the hall.

As the doors of the empty elevator closed behind them, Brant leaned against her, running his lips down her neck. “You and Ava working together? Baby, you just jumped from the frying pan into the fire.”

Much later that night she would remember those words and wonder what she had gotten herself into. But first they were lucky enough to make it to Brant’s house without being arrested, and nothing else mattered beyond the man worshipping her with his eyes and his body.

The grief of losing Robyn so suddenly was still there—the pain still felt raw and probably would for a long time to come—but with Brant in her life, she finally had someone to share both the good and the bad moments. She suspected that he was right. Every passing day would get a little easier and, with him by her side, one day she would be able to look back with him happily on the times she had shared with her sister. Robyn would have wanted it that way.

Epilogue

Emma turned into the driveway of the house that she shared with Brant. They had decided to move in together almost immediately and, since he lived on the beach, it hadn’t been a tough decision for her. She parked beside the sports car that he let her drive on rare occasions. She usually got a charge out of him sitting in it beside her, gritting his teeth and trying to act like he trusted her with his baby. Men and their toys.

The last three months with Brant had been close to paradise. The verbal sparring was still there, which made the sex afterward only that much more amazing. Her uptight man had no reservations between the sheets . . . at all. He had even managed to shock her a few times. If variety was the spice of life, then things would never be boring with Brant Stone.

Emma looked around when she opened the door, not seeing Brant in the living room. As she always did, she started talking to him because inevitably he came out and picked up the conversation. He seemed to hear her no matter where he was in the house. “Hey, baby. I’m sorry I’m so late getting home, but your demon sister was out of her mind today. I bet you were laughing your ass off when you signed that transfer to her office. If Mac doesn’t break up with his girlfriend soon, I’m going to have to find another job.”

When Brant still hadn’t appeared, she walked toward the bedroom, stopping in surprise at the closed door. What was he doing in there? She flung the door open and stood in the doorway gaping. Holy shit. “What’re you . . . Oh wow, Mr. December,” she exclaimed. Lying on the bed, in re-creation of his Mr. December pose complete with Santa hat and boughs of holly, was the man she adored. When he swiveled his hips, she noticed that something sparkled on his . . . yule log, and she started laughing.

“Um . . . baby, you’re going to have to cut out the laughing or the ring is going to lose its suspension. Thanks to you being late getting home, it’s been a . . . challenge to keep it up there for so long.”

“Oh my God,” Emma gasped out as she dropped down on the bed beside him. “If this is what I think it is, then it’s the most original proposal . . . ever!” Brant looked at her, the grin slipping from his face. Suddenly, he jumped from the bed, untying the ribbon from his . . . yule log and catching the ring as it fell. Emma stared at him in shock as he jerked on some clothing and grabbed her hand. Her head was spinning as he pulled her from the house and to the beach. When he dropped to one knee in front of her, she looked at him in shock.

“Em, baby, I love you. I just . . . had a flash of what we would tell our kids one day when they wanted to know how Daddy proposed to Mommy and I couldn’t do it.” He took her hand in his, clearing his throat. “Emma, from the moment you first walked through the door at the office, my life has never been the same. You’ve shown me that not everything has to be taken so seriously. I can’t imagine a future without you in it. Will you marry me and save me from a future of . . . well, being myself?”

Emma felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she whispered, “Yes.” Then Brant slid the ring onto her finger. She had no idea what it even looked like because she couldn’t see through the tears filling her eyes. “That was so beautiful. I love you, Brant.”

He hugged her to him, saying against the top of her head, “I love you more.” She pulled back from him and finally took a good look. By now, he was used to her laughing at unusual times, so he looked only mildly curious when she burst out laughing.

She reached up and tugged the Santa hat from his head. “I guess I should have said, ‘I love you, Mr. December.’”

He gave her the sexy grin that made her skin burn and picked her up effortlessly into his arms.

“I believe we need to deal with the boughs of holly and my yule log . . . now.” The sound of their laughter filled the air as Brant rushed back toward the house with her cradled in his arms. Fittingly, his proposal was just like their love story—one of a kind.