The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 31

The Forbidden Throb

Chapter 31

Emma’s POV:

I paced the living room, unable to sit still.

My hands smoothed imaginary wrinkles from my sweater for the third time. Fourth time. I’d lost count.

Calm down, Emma. It’s going to be fine.

Grandma sat in her usual chair by the window, needles clicking rhythmically as she worked on a pale blue yarn that pooled in her lap. She looked up occasionally, her expression somewhere between amused and concerned.

“Emma, dear, you’re wearing a path in the rug.”

I forced myself to stop moving. Checked my phone again. 9:57.

Cushions perfectly aligned on the couch. Fresh flowers from the corner market arranged in Grandma’s good vase.

My phone buzzed.

I’m here.

The world tilted slightly.

I shot up from the couch so fast I nearly knocked over the side table. Grandma looked up, startled, her knitting needles pausing mid-

stitch.

“He’s here,” I blurted out.

Before she could respond, I was already moving, weaving around her chair–nearly tripping over the ball of yarn that had rolled onto the floor–and rushing toward the front door.

I yanked it open.

Empty porch. Rain–washed wooden planks gleaming in the late morning sun.

I stepped outside, my sneakers squeaking on the wet boards. Scanned the street.

There. Not far down the block.

A black Maybach, sleek and pristine, parked along the curb Completely out of place among the weathered pickup trucks and salt–wom sedans that lined this neighborhood.

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10:22 Fri, May 1

Chapter 31

And walking toward me, arms laden with gift boxes wrapped in expensive paper, was Daniel.

2

He moved with that same effortless grace I’d noticed at the gala, his dark coat perfectly tailored, every step measured and precise. Even carrying armfuls of presents, he looked composed. Put–together.

Around the car, a small crowd had gathered.

Three middle–aged women from the neighborhood stood near the hood, phones out, unabashedly taking photos. Their voices carried on the salt–tinged breeze–excited, curious, a little loud.

“Is that a Maybach?”

“Who drives a Maybach to this street?”

“Must be visiting someone important—”

Daniel either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just kept walking, his focus entirely on me.

I watched him approach, something tightening in my chest.

He’d dressed carefully today–I could tell. The charcoal coat, the crisp white shirt visible at the collar, even the way his dark hair was

styled just so. Everything deliberate. Intentional.

He’s really handsome.

The thought hit me suddenly, unexpectedly. I’d noticed it before, of course–anyone with functioning eyes would notice Daniel Prescott.

But standing here, watching him walk toward my grandmother’s modest house with his arms full of gifts, the morning light catching the

sharp line of his jaw-

Focus, Emma. Don’t be weird.

Daniel came to a stop directly in front of me, close enough that I could catch the faint scent of his cologne–mint and citrus, clean and

expensive.

For a moment, he just looked at me, something unreadable flickering across his expression.

“Is something wrong?‘ His voice held a note of concern. “Do I have” He glanced down at himself, as if checking for some flaw in his

appearance.

Oh God, I’ve been storing.

Heat flooded my face. No! No, nothings wrong. You’re everything’s line. Perfect. I mean desperate to change the subject. We should go inside. Grandma’s waiting.

1 gestured vaguely toward the house.

M

K

10:22 Fri, May 1

Chapter 31

I turned quickly, maybe too quickly, and started up the walkway. Behind me, I heard Daniel’s quiet footsteps following.

Get it together, Emma. Stop acting like you’ve never seen an attractive man before.

*Emma.”

I stopped at the sound of my name, turning to look back at him.

Daniel shifted the boxes, gathering them all into one hand. Then his free hand reached out, fingers curling gently around mine.

I froze.

His palm was warm, his grip firm but not constraining. The kind of hold that felt… natural. Comfortable. Like we’d done this a hundred times before.

“What are you-”

“Relax.” His voice was low, meant only for me. “We’re supposed to be a couple, remember? This is what couples do.”

I stared at our joined hands, my brain stuttering to catch up.

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