#ldcat | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doodlelolly0910 · 5 years

Text

Love Don’t Cost a Thing

Summary: Emma thought she was living her happily ever after until she wasn't. Now Neal is living his with someone else and Emma has a plus one option to the wedding from hell but no one to fill the space. Enter Killian Jones, devastatingly handsome male escort and the answer to Emma's problems. She hires him for the wedding because he's the safe choice. The temporary choice. Falling in love wasn't on the invoice.

You can also find this on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: Hello! I come bearing new fic! So this was supposed to be a oneshot. I wrote it as a oneshot. The fic clearly had other ideas and it is now an MC lol. So here we are! Super huge ginormous thank you to @superchocovian who was just a the most fantastic beta and a wonderfully patient person. She thought she was signing up to beta a oneshot and she got me instead haha. And another super huge thank you to my wondertwin @artistic-writer who has made the most AMAZING picset for this fic that I could have ever wanted. It is seriously fantastic and I nearly squealed her ear off about it. I honestly love it so so so much. And she was an awesome second set of eyes on this project and frequent calmer of my anxieties and just an overall wonderful, lovely person. Thank you in advance for reading this fic! I hope you love it as much as I do. It's been my pet project for quite a while now and I'm so excited to share it with y'all. Watch for updates every Friday, and you can yell at me on here if you want. Away we go!

Chapter 1

Ten months.

Ten measly fucking months is all it took for Neal Cassidy to send out wedding invitations after he tossed Emma aside like yesterday's newspaper. Of course it wasn't too much of an asshole move to send an invitation to the mother of your child when you'd found a new love, especially if said child was going to be in the wedding. Was it? Her fury at the envelope grew as she decided yes it was an asshole move and she took another generous drink from the glass in front of her.

It still stung, even three months later, as she sat drowning herself in her sorrows at the bar on what would have been their ten year anniversary. To add insult to injury, the one he'd sent to her was addressed to Miss Emma Swan and Guest, written on the front in elegant gold script. She scoffed and tossed back her drink, fingering the edge of the envelope absent mindedly.

Miss Emma Swan and Guest.

Neal knew. He fucking knew she didn't have anybody. He knew how hard it was for her to let people in. He sent her the invitation just to rub it in her face. Just another message that she'd never find happiness. She conjured an image of his smug smile in her mind's eye and felt the sudden urge to find him and slap it off his face. She signalled to the bartender for another drink instead of doing something stupid, like driving to New York City from the Boston hotel bar she sat in and punching her ex. Repeatedly. She sipped slowly this time at the vodka cranberry in her hand, newly delivered by the petite blonde behind the counter. In reality, she wanted to be slamming back shots of whiskey, but self preservation told her that advertising her heartbreak in such a way would be ill advised. So she sipped and turned the envelope over in her unoccupied hand again and again, looking at its broken seal and debating whether or not to open it again for what felt like the millionth time since she'd gotten it those short few months ago. She couldn't believe this was happening. Couldn't believe he would have the solid fucking steel balls he must have upgraded to since he left her to send her this after all they'd been through. She had been with him for nine years, since she was seventeen and naïve, a runaway foster kid with no family, no friends, and no place to go, all the while planning their future together as she thought he had been. They'd met when she tried to steal a car that he'd already stolen, and they kept up the Bonnie and Clyde act to survive. It stung the first time she had asked why he hadn't proposed and he told her neither of them were ready for that. They'd only been together a year and they were still having fun. At least she wasn't alone. So Emma carried on, and didn't ask questions. They were happy. Not long after that, she'd gotten pregnant. Neal had wanted her to get an abortion, but Emma couldn't do it. She was eighteen, he was twenty four, and she followed his lead in most things, but she just couldn't bring herself to do that. They'd settled on adoption. They got real jobs, a real apartment, and everything was okay for awhile. But once Emma heard the strong cries as her son was freed from her womb and she laid eyes on him for the first time, she couldn't give him up either. She and Neal had fought about it. He'd even left for three whole weeks when she wouldn't relent. But he came back, saying he didn't want to be like his father and walk out on his son. Emma quashed the urge to remind him he'd already done that and welcomed him back with open arms. She knew what it was like to grow up without parents; she didn't want the same for her child. He still didn't want to marry her, citing the need to work on their relationship and being parents. She accepted that. At least she wasn't alone. The next few years seemed to fly by as Emma threw herself into her little family. Henry wanted for nothing, and Neal even ended up being a really good dad. But they fought a lot. Bills piled up and Emma worked two jobs while Neal struggled to hold down one most of the time. He would work whenever a job offer came to him, but he never really looked for one. And they never seemed to last long. Emma made enough as an office clerk for a private investigator by day and a waitress by night to keep them afloat. Around that time, Robert Gold, Neal’s estranged father, had come back into Neal's life and wanted a relationship with him and his grandson. Neal rejected his requests, and Emma always tried to support him, whichever way he wanted to go with it. Emma asked one night that had been mostly calm and normal if he wanted to get married. He dismissed the idea easily, telling her he wanted to be more stable in a career, that way they could afford the ring and wedding they deserved. Emma told him it didn't matter to her, but dropped the subject. They could wait to get married. At least she wasn't alone. In the end, one of Neal's biggest complaints was that she never had time for him (or Henry, as he had callously tossed in her face a time or two during some of their more heated spats) and he needed more from a relationship. Ironically, he started seeing his father regularly and looking for work more frequently around this time as well, stretching his own time at home thin. Nonetheless, she tried harder, losing contact with her friends and even her foster brother David, that she'd reconnected with when Henry was born, in favor of making more time for her boyfriend and son. It never seemed to be enough. Tamara Herr had time for Neal though. The caramel skinned beauty lived right across the street from their apartment building and was decidedly everything Emma was not. So, when Emma caught them together in their bed after coming home early one day to celebrate her promotion, all she could do was laugh as her heart simultaneously closed up tight and shattered into a thousand pieces. And now they were getting married. Neal got the girl of his dreams that it was clear Emma wasn't and a relationship with his father that came with his very own trust fund. And she was alone. "Bad night?" Emma jumped at the sound of a British baritone voice coming suddenly from behind her. Her face pinched in a scowl and she turned to make sure whoever this interloper was knew she wasn't in the mood for company. She looked up as a tall, well built frame placed itself in the seat next to her. Emma was almost shocked off her stool when her gaze meet his. She wasn't expecting someone so... well, gorgeous, if she was being honest. Dark chocolate hair fell just over his forehead, dusting his quirked brows. Bright ocean blue eyes watched her with mild amusement, studying her as she was him. His pink, plush lips were framed by dark, neatly trimmed facial hair that was interspersed with auburn whiskers here and there that she almost would have missed if the light hadn't caught it just right. There was a single onyx stone in his right ear that matched his cufflinks on the lighter gray dress shirt that he wore under a steel grey suit. The shirt had several buttons undone, exposing his chest and the thick smattering of umber hair across it. Realizing she'd probably been staring too long, she reset her mouth into a hard line and tilted her head back away from him. "It has been a pretty shitty night. That's usually how one finds themselves drinking at a bar near eleven o'clock alone," she replied stiffly, hoping her tone and words would prevent him from pursuing whatever this interaction was between them. It seemed, though, that the man only took it as an invitation. "I could tell. If you stared at that envelope any harder, it may burst into flames, love," he said with a chuckle. Emma's scowl deepened. "Not your love," she huffed. "Not anyone's love," she added before she could stop herself. Her cheeks flushed at the admission and she hid her face in her drink, letting her golden hair fall in front of it as she dipped her head down.Maybe she’d had enough to drink. To her surprise, the man reached out and tucked a good portion of her tresses behind her ear so he could look at her face. He continued to amaze her when she saw no pity in his expression, just a glimmer of understanding. "I can't imagine anyone not wanting to love someone as beautiful as you," he murmured. Emma wrinkled her nose at the over the top declaration and he cracked a grin in response. "Too much?" "That was epically cheesy. Does that line really work on anyone?" She took another sip from her glass and felt her eyebrows climb her forehead. "It wasn't a line at all, love. But I have plenty of those as well, if you'd like to hear." He nodded towards her, almost begging her to pick up the gauntlet he'd thrown. She remained silent, not wanting to further encourage this conversation, but feeling strangely uplifted by his presence. So he continued on. "Here, how much would you say a polar bear weighs?" Emma gave him a funny look, contemplating where he might be going with this. "I'm not sure, like a thousand, two thousand pounds?" she guessed. He looked positively gleeful that she'd played along. "So you might say then... enough to break the ice? Killian Jones, at your service." He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. Emma rolled her eyes and groaned, drawing her hand back but still feeling the sear of his lips just below her knuckles. "I can't believe I just walked right into that one." She shook her head with a laugh.

“It's a gift of mine, leading women places they don't expect to go,” he said, his voice low and sultry, and oh, man, he was definitely flirting with her. “Would you like to go somewhere else unexpected?” He swiped his tongue over his lower lip, his darkened gaze holding hers.

"Sorry, pal. You just aren't my type," she lied, her breath catching in her chest as she flitted her eyes back to the bar and her drink. Truth was, she was far more attracted to him than she'd been to... well, anyone really. More attracted to him than she had been to Neal, that was for sure. "Darling, for the right price, I'm anyone's type," he replied, his words hanging heavily in the air between them. Emma's eyes widened at the implication, snapping back to his face, and Killian's own blue orbs smoldered into her gaze, waiting for her reaction. They stared at one another in silent challenge, willing the other to expand on the proverbial elephant that now sat quite noticeably in the room. Curiosity won out and Emma licked her lips before responding, flushing slightly when the handsome man tracked the movement with his eyes. "Are you telling me you're a hooker?" She hissed under her breath, darting her eyes around the room as if someone might be listening, and Killian grinned at her. "Please, love. 'Hooker' sounds so crass. Not to mention, illegal." His grin grew larger as she sighed in frustration. "Well isn't this just my damn luck. Sitting alone, wallowing over my ex-boyfriend's happiness wasn't enough, I suppose. Now the one guy who even talks to me is only here to make a quick buck." She scoffed and shoved the envelope violently into her clutch purse before digging out some cash to leave for her drinks. His careful eyes watched her flustered movements before he reached out to loosely grip her wrist. She froze, unsure of whether or not she should pull away. He stroked the pad of his thumb over the small flower tattoo nestled at the base of her palm, prompting her to look up at him again. She did, ignoring the electric sparks shooting up her arm at the contact. "For what it's worth, love, I would have approached you whether I was on the clock or not." He brought her hand up and placed a soft kiss to the place his thumb had just been smoothing, never breaking eye contact, causing her breath to hitch again involuntarily. She cursed herself mentally for acting like a hormonal mess. "How many girls has that bullshit worked on today? Bet your bank account is padded with the results of pick up lines like that," she spat, snatching her hand back from his gentle grip and standing abruptly. She was more embarrassed than she could recall feeling in recent memory and she hated it. Hated how he'd gotten under her skin so quickly. Killian seemed to accept her retreat gracefully and smiled softly at her. He stood as well and reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pulling free a small black card. Boldly, he reached down and slipped it into the gap of her clutch, not even bothering to try to hand it to her, knowing she wouldn't take it. "Think what you'd like, Swan, but that was also not a line. That's the absolute truth. And should you change your mind about some company, well, you have my card." Emma stood in shock. She could feel her face reddening further. Then the bastard winked and smoothly turned, walking away to find his next companion. And that is when it hit her that he'd used her last name.

It had to be a coincidence, or she must have misheard him, because why the hell, how the hell, would he have known her name?

Emma's cheeks were still flaming as she stormed out to her car. She wasted little time in jamming her keys into the ignition, making the little yellow Volkswagen rumble to life and peel out of the parking lot in haste. How dare he. Men like Killian Jones were the absolute worst, preying on women who were vulnerable for their own gain. The thought that he'd recognized her as vulnerable made her stomach turn. She should have never let her guard down so low. She hadn't even been aware that she'd done it. How often did she have her weaknesses on display? she mused as she waited at a red stoplight. She slammed her open palm into the steering wheel. In the five minutes she spent in Jones's company, he'd managed to peel back her layers and reach her in a way that she hadn't been reached in years. If she didn't know any better, she may have even admitted that she felt a connection to Killian Jones. Damn him. It was all an act, she reminded herself. He was skilled in the art of flirtation, ready to seduce and take advantage of every sad sob story that would make him a few bucks. A loud honk from behind her jerked her from her thoughts and she realized the light was green. Putting her foot on the gas, all she was focused on was getting home. No more thoughts of handsome male hookers--or shitty exes, for that matter. Except that was all she could think about as she parked in her designated space and made her way into the apartment building. She kept a brisk pace as if she could physically outrun her train of thought. She was glad that Henry was staying with Neal this week, not expected back until the day after tomorrow. She loved her kid, but he was too damn smart for an eight year old. He would have picked up on her distressed state in no time. She didn't bother with picking up the house that night, only dropping her purse on the table in the entryway, stripping away her shoes and clothes as she made her way to the room and slipping into an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants for bed. As she slipped under the covers and settled on her pillow, the last thought that ran through her mind before sleep consumed her was of Killian Jones. The next morning was no better. She scowled at herself for waking up with Killian's blue eyes dancing through her head and decided she needed a distraction. Usually, she and Henry would spend their Saturdays in a park or a library, or the occasional museum, but he wasn't here and she didn't fancy doing any of that alone. She could call her sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, or her friends Elsa or Ruby, but all three of them knew her well enough to know when she was hiding something and she was still embarrassed just enough by her run in with a male escort and her subsequent escape to decide against putting herself through the ringer. Mary Margaret would be appalled and tell everyone (she was horrible at keeping secrets), Elsa would be sympathetic to the point of pity (which she was not ready for), and Ruby would either make fun of the whole situation or try to find him herself (based on how much of a description she could get out of Emma). No thank you to all of those scenarios. She padded barefoot into her kitchen, grabbing a mug and leaning against the counter to wait for her coffee pot to finish percolating, silently thanking the heavens that she remembered to set it before she went out last night. She looked around the apartment she shared with her son and sighed. It was a good sized apartment, much better than where she'd started with Henry. Her eventual licensing as a private investigator afforded her a much better lifestyle for her and her son. One that could have included Neal. She'd actually been on her way home to share her license confirmation when she'd caught him with her. And the rest was history. The coffee pot gurgled its last drops into the pot and Emma happily made herself a cup. Maybe she should've RSVP'd that she'd be coming alone. It would've been much easier, but she was so mad to see that plus one included on her card that she'd gotten out the Jack Daniels and the whiskey checked the box for her. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And it wasn't like she hadn't moved on from Neal; on the contrary, she had, she just hadn't moved on with someone else just yet. Sipping at her cup, her mind automatically went to her phone. She usually skimmed news headlines and went through her email with her morning coffee, but she didn't have it with her and she didn't remember seeing it on her nightstand. She let out a groan when she remembered that she'd left it in her purse. Grumbling, she pushed herself away from the counter and made her way to the entryway, picking up her purse with one hand and setting her mug down with the other. She shuffled through the contents and pulled her phone free, but as she did, a small, black square fluttered to the floor. She bent down to retrieve it, frowning and trying to remember where it came from or what it was. She flipped it over to read it and her face immediately flushed, though she wasn't sure if it was out of embarrassment or something else. KILLIAN JONES PERSONAL ENTERTAINMENT 617-555-9870 Emma snorted. 'Personal entertainment' indeed. She didn't even know why he slipped her his card. She'd never paid for sex and she wasn't about to start. She was lonely, not desperate. She tucked the card against her phone for the moment and went back to her clutch for her charger. Her fingers bumped against the thick envelope inside as she searched and she scowled at it. And then a lightbulb went off in her head. She thought of the little nest egg she'd put aside for a rainy day as her mind began to hatch a plan. Maybe she was a little desperate. "This is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid..." she muttered, grabbing her phone and heading to the couch, flicking the edge of the business card with her finger. She plugged her phone in and sat down, letting a large sigh escape her, and punched in the numbers on the card. She fiddled with the ties on her sleep pants while the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Just as she was about to hang up, a sultry English voice came on the line. "Hello?" Emma's throat closed up immediately and her mouth felt like she'd poured a shaker of salt into it. Her heart pounded in her chest and every word in the English language fled her frazzled mind. "Hello?" he said again and Emma jumped as she realized she should be saying something back. "Uh, hi." Smooth, Emma. "Hello, love. Can I help you?" He sounded amused and that incensed her. "Yes. No. Maybe. Dammit, this isn't how this was supposed to go," she rambled. "Look, you gave me your card last night, and I'm calling." "I gave quite a few women my card last night. Refresh my memory a bit, love." He didn't sound the least bit confused and Emma was positive he was messing with her now. She clenched her jaw. "Well, aren't you a regular Romeo." She was sure her scowl could be heard through the phone. He laughed out loud, warm and rich, the sound crackling through the phone and warming her to her toes. "Why don't we start with a name?" he prompted, mirth now flowing freely through his warm voice. She sighed. "It's Emma. Er, Swan. From the bar last night." She felt her grip tighten on her lap. He was silent for a beat and she began to rethink if he actually did know it was her before the reveal. "I was hoping it was you." His voice had dropped an octave and something twisted in her lower belly at the sound. "Yeah, well, it's me. It's kinda weird that you know my name, though. Or, y'know, that you remember me at all," she mumbled, tugging at her shirt nervously. "As if I could forget the most beautiful woman I've spoken to in recent memory," he purred and Emma wrinkled her nose at the flirtation, but he continued on. "And your name was easy enough to discern since you were waving it around on that envelope you had with you." "Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense," she said, embarrassed. An awkward silence fell over the line. "As much as I'm thrilled to hear your lovely voice, Swan, I'm assuming you didn't just call for a chat?" The amusement in his voice was back and Emma felt her blush deepen, thankful for the barrier the phone provided. "Uh, yeah. I was actually calling because, well, I'm looking to procure some of your, uh, services-" "Really, Swan?" The surprised delight in his tone made her frown. She wasn't a conquest. "Not like that. What I meant to say was I have sort of a proposition for you.” Her voice was all business and she found herself straightening her shoulders in resolve, though she knew he couldn't see her. "Color me intrigued, love. What sort of proposition?" he asked and Emma fidgeted nervously. "Can we meet to discuss it? Lunch, maybe? My treat of course, I know you're," she cleared her throat, "on the clock, or whatever." Killian chuckled low on the other end of the line. "Alright, darling, where and when?" he asked. "There's a diner near downtown, Granny's. Do you know it?" She grimaced at the thought of bringing him there. Ruby Lucas, her best friend, ran the place with her grandmother. She'd be ruthless with questions upon seeing her with a man, but she wanted to be somewhere that was familiar in case things went wrong. "I know it. Never been inside, but I've heard good things," he replied. "Can you meet me in an hour?" she asked, looking at the time. It was already approaching noon. "Aye, I'm free until this evening. I'll see you there, Swan," he confirmed and Emma hung up the phone as soon as he did, getting up and heading into her bedroom. What did one wear when they were potentially making the dumbest decision ever?

Tag list (if you would like to be added or removed from this list, please send me a message): @artistic-writer @snowbellewells @bmbbcs4evr @kmomof4 @xemmaloveskillianx @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @courtorderedcake

#csff #cs ff au #cs ff #Captain Swan #escort!killian #love don't cost a thing #LDCAT #Chapter 1 #1/12 #friday update

83 notes · View notes

doodlelolly0910 · 5 years

Text

Love Don’t Cost a Thing

Summary: Emma thought she was living her happily ever after until she wasn’t. Now Neal is living his with someone else and Emma has a plus one option to the wedding from hell but no one to fill the space. Enter Killian Jones, devastatingly handsome male escort and the answer to Emma’s problems. She hires him for the wedding because he’s the safe choice. The temporary choice. Falling in love wasn’t on the invoice.

You can also find this on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: So this is a day late, I’m sure you’ve noticed, and I am so super sorry for that. These last couple of days have gotten away from me and my attention was on a billion other things. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it cuz it’s (fake) date night part one! Woo! Super huge thanks to @superchocovian for being an awesome beta for this story (her help was seriously invaluable) and also to @artistic-writer who makes the AMAZING art specific to each chapter for this fic. And she took time out to be my third set of eyes on this fic as well! Basically, she’s the best. And thanks to y'all for reading this! Your comments really make my day and I’m so glad you’re liking it so far. Thanks so much!

Chapter 4

Emma had taken the rest of the week off from the office, working from her laptop at home when necessary and forwarding her calls to her cell, but things were thankfully quiet. Perks of being your own boss. She’d barely been able to get her kid at the table with a bowl of cereal and a cup of reheated coffee into herself, looking forward to a relaxing morning before she dropped Henry off with Elsa that afternoon so she could go meet Killian, when there was a knock at her door. Groggily, she dragged herself to the door to answer it, regretting it immediately once the door swung open.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Ruby singsonged, grinning from ear to ear. Emma shook her head, not sure if she was actually seeing Ruby, or if she was hallucinating.

“Ruby, it is nine in the morning. How are you even functional?” Emma asked and Ruby scoffed, pushing her way into the apartment.

“I was supposed to work the breakfast shift this morning. Granny scheduled Ashley too and we were a little slow so she told me to go. So I thought I’d do brunch with my favorite Swans,” she said, making her way into the kitchen and ruffling Henry’s hair.

“We’re your only Swans, Aunt Ruby,” Henry said rather than a greeting, mouth full of Cocoa Puffs. Emma gave her son a warning look for talking with his mouth full and he ducked his head with a small smile.

“That doesn’t make you any less my favorite,” she replied, fixing herself a cup of coffee.

“I can’t, I’m supposed to meet-” she stopped short and glanced at her son, realizing she almost mentioned Killian in front of the curious boy before changing course and continuing, “uh, someone for coffee at two.” Ruby’s answering smile could have powered Times Square.

“Oh my god! What are you going to wear?” she squealed.

“I don’t know, just whatever, I guess. It’s just coffee,” Emma said dismissively, definitely not wanting to discuss her potential fake date clothes with the Queen of Fashion Ruby Lucas. She really didn’t want to discuss this at all in front of Henry.

“Just coffee?” She wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “Is it too late to turn this into a dinner date? Ooh, we could go shopping!”

“You’re going on a date, Mom?” Henry asked as he placed his bowl into the kitchen sink. If Emma’s eyes got any wider, they would have fallen out of her head. She looked, terrified, between Ruby, whose face was coloring rapidly, and her son, whose eyes were looking back up at his mother expectantly.

“I mean, it’s not really a date, per se,” she said evasively. Her son quirked an eyebrow, a behavior she knew he got from her, that said he did not believe her in the slightest.

“Just tell him, Emma,” Ruby said softly. Emma glared at her friend who looked apologetic but encouraging all at once.

“Tell me what…?” Henry asked slowly. Emma let out a large sigh, gripping her son lightly by the shoulders.

“Yes, I’m going on a date, Henry,” she said softly. Henry's face fell slightly.

“Oh.”

This wasn’t the reaction she imagined. She thought there would be a reaction, at least.

“Are you okay with that, Henry?” Ruby asked. Henry nodded, eyes cast to the floor.

“Hey, what’s the matter, kid? You know you can talk to me,” Emma prompted, kneeling to the floor in front of him. He brought his hazel eyes up to meet her jade and Emma was surprised to see there were tears gathering at his lash line.

“Dad is dating Tamara and he doesn’t want to spend time with me anymore. And now you won’t either,” he said, lower lip starting to wobble. Emma felt like someone punched her in the gut. Fucking Neal. She shuffled closer to Henry, and put her hands firmly on his shoulders.

“Henry, listen to me very carefully. No matter how many dates I go on, no matter what happens in my life, even if I'm dating, you will always be the most important person in it. I will always have time for you,” she said, meeting her son’s watery gaze.

“You promise?” Henry whispered. Emma nodded immediately, earnestly.

“Swear,” she whispered back, then seized her son in a fierce hug, which he returned just as tightly. Emma heard sniffling behind her and found Ruby with her back turned, wiping furiously at her eyes. When the brunette turned back around, her heavy makeup was smeared, making her look slightly raccoon-ish. Emma stood and faced her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” Ruby said, and Emma knew she meant it. She softened and hugged her friend. They pulled apart and Ruby looked at Henry, smiling gently. “What do you say I treat you and your mom to lunch in the park and your mom can reschedule her date for tonight, and while she’s doing that, you can spend the night at Aunt Ruby’s?” Emma made a noise of protest at the sudden change before her son cut in.

“Really? Can we stay up late and watch a movie? With popcorn?” Henry asked excitedly.

“Whatever you want, buddy. As long as it’s okay with your mom,” she added and Henry looked up to his mother, eyes shining brightly.

“Please, Mom? Please?” he begged and Emma couldn’t say no to the look on his face. If Killian was busy, she would just occupy herself another way.

“Alright, kid, turn off the puppy dog eyes. Go get dressed and then we can go in a little bit. I’ve got a couple calls to make and then we can go in a little bit,” she said and Henry whooped before running to his room.

“I’m gonna go clean all this up,” Ruby said, waving a splayed-finger hand in the direction of her face and the ruined makeup on it. “Be back in a sec.” Emma nodded and retrieved her phone as soon as she left the room to call Killian. He answered on the second ring.

“Swan,” he said in greeting. “I was just about to call you. Are we still on for coffee, love?”

“Hey, yeah, uh, so something came up and I don’t think I can make coffee this afternoon but I wanted to see if you were free tonight? For dinner…” she added unnecessarily. There was silence on the other end of the line. “What am I saying, of course you’re busy, uh, forget I asked. We can do something another time,” she babbled.

“Swan!” he interrupted. “I was just surprised, is all. I have no plans. I would love to take you out for dinner, on one condition,” he said and Emma held her breath. “You let me plan the evening.”

“I can plan a date,” she grumbled.

“Oh, of that I have no doubt, Swan, but I know how to plan an evening as well, and I have something in mind. Trust me?”

“Okay,” she relented after only a moment. “My son will be at my friend’s house tonight so you can just meet me here. I’ll text you the address.”

“Sounds perfect, love. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said. Emma confirmed and hung up as quickly as she could, her heart pounding in her chest harder than she expected it to.

This felt a lot like a real date, and that prospect terrified her. If she was going to do this, she might as well do it right though. She didn’t know if she had anything remotely date worthy in her closet besides the red dress he had already seen her in.

This was getting too close to real.

Before she could expand on that thought, Henry, fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and Ruby, makeup now immaculately back in place, reentered the room.

“Looks like it’s just you now, Emma. Get dressed and we can go get some grub,” she instructed.

“Yeah, about that,” Emma said, pausing to chew her lip nervously. “What if we made this a shopping-slash-lunch date after all?” Ruby’s face lit up like Christmas.

“Of course! I am so excited!” She rushed Emma back to her room to get ready to go.

Eight hours, two pizzas, seven stores, and an anxious mess of an Emma Swan later, it was six thirty. Emma paced the floor as Ruby followed her around, holding up various pieces of jewelry against the black lace dress she was wearing. The gold slip layer underneath just barely peeked through the sheer black fabric, the skirt swishing around her thighs. The sleeveless design gave her the option to wear her red leather jacket with it, but she probably wouldn’t. It was warm outside and the jacket was a little bulky. She should be fine.

“I think just the earrings, don’t you think?” Ruby held up a pair of dainty dangling silver earrings and Emma nodded absently. Ruby frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous, I guess,” she said. Although, why she was nervous, she had no idea. This wasn’t a real date, as she had reminded herself several times throughout the day. Ruby smiled gently and fluffed the golden curls cascading over Emma’s shoulder.

“Don’t be nervous. You’re going to knock his socks off,” she replied with a grin.

“You should be gone already,” Emma said, diverting the conversation away from herself. “He’s going to be here in half an hour and Henry is supposed to be gone.”

“I know, I know, I just-”

A sharp knock sounded from the front door. Emma looked at the clock (6:49 it read), then back to Ruby. Where had the last nineteen minutes gone?! Emma looked at Ruby, panicked.

“It’s fine. It’s okay, just breathe, I’ll keep Henry in the bedroom until you leave and I’ll lock up after I go,” Ruby soothed and then darted off towards the bedrooms. Emma put her earrings in as she walked and opened the door to a sinful looking Killian Jones.

Clad in black head to toe, he looked every inch as gorgeous as the day at the diner almost a week ago. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the button down front open a few buttons below the collar but above the ‘v’ of where the black leather waistcoat wrapped around his middle. His jeans were just on the right side of tight and Emma could see why he had chosen the profession he had. The man was walking sex if she ever saw it.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he murmured genuinely and Emma smiled softly back.

“You look…�� she trailed off, lost for words.

“I know,” he replied, a cheeky grin creeping over his features and Emma rolled her eyes.

“I just need to grab my purse and we can go,” Emma said, turning away.

“Mom?” A small voice came from the direction of the kitchen and Emma felt her heart drop into her stomach.

“Henry!” Ruby’s voice came from the direction of the bedrooms on the other end of the apartment, but it was too late. Henry walked towards his mother, a green plastic cup of water in his hand.

“Is this him?” Henry asked archly, appraising Killian from head to toe. Emma flushed bright red and she sputtered a few vowel sounds out, not knowing how to respond. Before she could fully answer, Killian was sinking down on one knee in front of the boy.

“Hello, Henry, I’m Killian,” he said, holding out his hand for Henry to shake. Henry looked at his outstretched appendage for a moment before grasping it in his tiny hand that wasn't occupied with his cup and shaking. “That’s quite a grip you’ve got lad,” Killian said with a smile.

“Are you taking my mom on a date?” he asked, still wary of this strange man in the doorway, setting his drink on the table next to him. Emma and Ruby both stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

“Aye, lad. If it’s alright with you that I borrow her for a few hours, of course?” It came out as a question, putting all the power in Henry’s hands. Henry contemplated it for a moment.

“What are you guys gonna do?” he asked. Killian smiled warmly at him.

“Well first,” he pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing the single red rose in it that Emma hadn’t noticed before, “I’d like to give this to your mum.” He looked up at Emma but didn’t rise, only extending his hand to offer her the flower. She accepted it with shaking fingers. “A beautiful flower for a magnificent woman,” he said to Emma, adding a wink. Emma flushed the color of the rose at the display. “Then, I’d planned on taking her for a nice meal and I thought we would do some stargazing,” he continued. Alarm bells were going off in Emma’s head.

Did he do this with all of his clients?!

A soft “Aww!” came from Ruby in her corner and Emma shot her a death glare.

“Are you gonna kiss her?” Henry asked, face twisted in disgust at the thought of kissing, making Emma’s head snap back to the scene before her.

“Perhaps, if she wants to be kissed. But I promise to return her home to you no later than eleven,” he said, holding up his hand in a vow.

“That’s late,” Henry said. “But I’m spending the night at Aunt Ruby’s tonight. So I won’t be here. We were supposed to leave already but Aunt Ruby goes crazy when she gets to dress my mom up.” Killian laughed at that.

“Well she has dressed your mother very nicely tonight, don’t you think?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye as his gaze swept appreciatively over Emma’s form.

“Mom always looks pretty. But she is really pretty tonight,” he said and Emma smiled at her son’s words. Killian slowly rose from the floor and brushed the wrinkles from himself.

“Aye, that she is. I think it’s about time we go, lad. By your leave, of course,” Killian said.

“I guess so. But if you make her cry like my dad, my uncle David will beat you up,” Henry said seriously and Emma wanted to dissolve into the floor. Killian looked back at Henry just as seriously.

“I have no intention of ever hurting your mother, Henry, you have my word,” he promised. Henry seemed satisfied with his answer and nodded before wrapping himself around his mother’s waist. Emma hugged him back tightly, cradling his head close to her stomach. Ruby met them in the entryway and took the rose from Emma's hand to go put into water.

“Be good for Aunt Ruby,” she said, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. He unwrapped himself and gave her a small smile before walking over to where Ruby was setting the flower on the kitchen counter.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Ruby called out to them and Killian chuckled next to Emma.

“Nice to see you again, Ruby,” he called back to her, placing his hand on the small of Emma’s back. Her skin tingled at the contact, even through her clothes.

“Call me if you need anything, I’ll have my phone on,” Emma said and Ruby rolled her eyes.

“I’ve watched Henry a thousand times before Emma. Get outta here. Have fun!” she practically commanded, steering Henry out of the room by his shoulders, leaving Emma and Killian alone.

Emma looked up at him, frazzled to her core, before snatching her clutch purse from the table next to Henry’s forgotten water cup and darting out the door. She was thankful that went as well as it did, but she was still apprehensive about Killian’s reaction to the whole thing. She supposed she should have been more wary of how easily he slipped into the role of doting boyfriend, especially in front of her son and best friend, but on the other hand, that’s exactly what she was paying him for. At least she was getting her money’s worth.

“I meant it, Swan, you truly look stunning tonight,” Killian said softly to her as he walked closely beside her down the hall.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling his gaze weigh heavily on her skin as they got into the elevator and she pressed the button for the ground floor. “And thank you for being so nice to Henry. I really appreciate that. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“So I gathered, love,” he replied with a chuckle. “It was no problem. Henry is a wonderful lad.”

“He is,” she agreed with a fond smile. “But still, you shouldn’t have had to put on an act so soon. I wasn’t planning on having people over when you arrived.” He looked at her her, a puzzled expression sweeping over his face as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.

“An act?” he asked. “Did I say something wrong?” His genuinely confused tone gave Emma pause as they left the building. She stopped and looked up at him in the moonlight.

“No, no, you said all the right things, it’s just, you know, this isn’t real,” she said, the words feeling a lot more blunt in her mouth than intended. Killian’s face softened and a flash of something close to longing flickered through his gaze.

“I’m aware, Swan, but I didn’t need to put on an act. Everything I said to the lad was true, love,” he told her, and Emma’s eye widened as his words sunk in. Before she could protest (or run back upstairs and away from this), he replaced his hand at the small of her back and guided her to a car that was parked on the street. Emma stopped dead in her tracks at the vehicle.

This is a seriously nice car, she thought to herself, looking over the gunmetal gray and black striped ‘68 Chevelle parked on the curb. She shouldn’t have been surprised. A guy that looks like Killian Jones and does what he does can afford a car like this. He didn’t seem to notice how enamored she was with his vehicle as he swept around her and opened the passenger door with a bow.

“Your carriage, milady,” he said, smiling. Emma suppressed a smile of her own, thanked him softly, and sat down in the passenger seat. The inside of the car was just as nice, well maintained, and it all looked original. Emma was a big fan of the vintage vehicle already.

Killian came around and got in the driver’s seat, smiling widely at her, and started up the car. Emma clenched her thighs together at the low rumble of the engine. Holy shit this was a sexy car. About as sexy as the man driving it. Wait, what?

She chanced a glance at Killian, his blue eyes intently focused on the road, the sunset illuminating his features perfectly. The orange light highlighted the ginger whiskers in his beard and his hands were locked loosely around the steering wheel, his forearms flexing whenever they made a turn. He was painfully attractive.

In another life, maybe, she thought wistfully.

“Admiring the view, love?” He smirked and Emma blushed at having been caught staring.

“I was just wondering how a guy gets a car like this,” she deflected easily. His expression sobered slightly with the question and he took a deep breath.

“She was my father’s car. He left when I was eight. My mother gave her to me for my sixteenth birthday and I restored her myself,” he said, pride swelling in his tone.

“‘Her’?” Emma teased and Killian looked at her slyly from the corner of his eye.

“Aye. Sleek, beautiful, powerful, The Jolly was bound to be a woman.” He winked.

“‘The Jolly’? You named your car?” she asked and Killian’s cheeks developed twin red spots on the apples of them that sent a thrill through Emma. Now it was her turn to make him blush.

“Aye,” he admitted. “I’ve always had a fondness for pirates, and what better name for the finest vessel in all the lands than The Jolly Roger?” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips and Emma couldn’t help but smile back as they pulled into the parking lot of a very chic looking restaurant Emma had never been to before.

Wonderland was a building made of glass and wood that was set against the backdrop of the nearby harbor. Emma was immediately taken aback by the upper class atmosphere. She didn’t think at any point in her life she had been to a restaurant this nice. Growing up in foster care didn’t afford her those kinds of luxuries, and struggling with Neal, there was never another opportunity. She did well for herself now, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to drop $100 a plate on cuisine. Killian seemed to sense her apprehension and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

“Trust me,” he murmured in her ear before pulling away to open the door for her.

When they entered the room, Emma had to stifle a gasp. There was a huge chandelier hung in the center of the room, bathing the space in a soft glow. There were several people dining already, all of them dressed to the nines, leaving Emma feeling slightly inadequate. The black and white decor was very modern chic and there was a large white piano in the center of the room where soft music was being played by a man in a tuxedo, complete with top hat. Killian led her past the several people waiting straight to the hostess podium. There was a slightly bored looking blonde who couldn’t have even been 21 yet making notes in the reservation book, but her eyes lit up in recognition as Killian and Emma moved closer.

“Mr. Jones! It’s been forever!” she gushed and Killian gave her a fond smile.

“Grace? Look at you! I can’t believe how grown up you are!” Killian grinned and the girl stepped around the podium to accept a hug from him. “Home from university, then?” he asked and Grace nodded.

“Only for the summer. Freshman year was amazing, but I missed home. And you know Dad, he gets a little crazy when I’m not close.” Grace rolled her eyes and Killian chuckled.

“He loves you very much. And I’m sure he’s thrilled you’re home.”

“He’s around here somewhere, let me go grab him and we can get a table set up for you and your… date?”

Killian reached for Emma automatically.

“Where are my manners? Grace Hightopp, this is the lovely Emma Swan,” he introduced the two and Grace beamed at Emma, reaching out to shake her hand. Emma had remained in awkward silence to this point, but returned the handshake warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“It’s so good to meet you, too! You are really pretty, Killian is a lucky guy!” she replied and Emma felt a deep flush settle under her skin. It seemed ‘tomato’ was the shade she would remain at for the evening at least. “I’m going to go get my dad. I’ll be right back!” Before they could reply, Grace scurried off in the direction of the piano.

“This is a lot, Killian,” Emma murmured after she left, shifting on her feet. Killian looked down at her, studying her expression.

“I know it seems that way, Swan, and I'm asking you to put your trust in me often tonight, but there's nowhere else I could take you that would be what you deserve,” he said so sincerely that Emma's breath caught in her throat.

“I've never been somewhere this nice,” she admitted softly.

“You deserve it, love,” he insisted, sparkling blue eyes boring into her anxious green. “And it's my treat.”

“Well, technically, it's mine,” she muttered, thinking of the envelope tucked into her purse. His expression wavered slightly at that, almost ashamed, and Emma felt slightly guilty at the unintentional barb.

“Killian Jones!” A bright voice rang out over the din of conversation and clinking utensils around them, breaking the awkward tension that had settled between the two. The man with the top hat who was playing the piano previously made their way towards him, Grace by his side, grinning broadly.

“Jefferson,” Killian greeted, a smile of his own in place, and the two men seized each other in a hug that only two good friends would share.

“It’s been way too long, my friend. How's Liam?” he asked, his tone serious, as they broke apart. Killian's expression turned slightly forlorn.

“He's doing better. Much better,” he said, something darker and pained flitting over his features.

Emma studied him, concerned. She had yet to see him anything but bright, happy, and flirtatious. Tonight, though, he had been an array of emotion, and she felt almost as if she was seeing Killian Jones for the first time. She briefly wondered who Liam was, and what happened to him, but now was not the time or place to ask.

“That’s very good,” Jefferson replied, clapping Killian on the shoulder. “Bring him in sometime, yeah? And who is this?” he said, not unkindly, turning his attention to Emma with a wide smile.

“This is Emma Swan,” Killian said, looking down at her affectionately, leaving Emma feeling unsettled and warm.

“Mr. Jones’ date,” Grace piped in helpfully. Jefferson gave his daughter an adoring smile before his grin turned sly as his eyes, then his head, turned towards Killian.

��Enchante, mademoiselle.” Jefferson scooped up Emma’s hand and bowed his head to it, leaving a firm kiss on the back of it. “Such a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well,” Emma returned politely. “This place is… amazing,” she complimented, gesturing to the restaurant.

“It’s my greatest accomplishment in life. Next to my Grace, of course.” He released Emma’s hand and pulled his now blushing daughter close by her shoulders. “She’s going to be a lawyer, you know,” he said, his chest puffing out with pride.

“If I survive regular college first,” his daughter said, embarrassed.

“Nonsense. You’re a Hightopp. You can do anything,” he scolded playfully. “Let’s get you two set up for your meal then, eh?” He turned his attention to a nearby waiter and gave instructions to lead them to a table. “On the house, Jones! Your money's no good here!” Jefferson commanded with a wave and a wink over his shoulder as he walked back to the piano in the middle of the room. Emma looked up at Killian who looked just as surprised as she felt. The waiter gestured for the two of them to follow him.

“I honestly didn’t expect that, Swan, I swear to you. I’m not trying to seem cheap,” he insisted as they walked, his hand once again finding its place on her lower back as if it belonged there.

“Killian, trust me, the last thing you seem in a place like this is cheap,” she said with a chuckle, trying to ease his tension. She felt him relax slightly and he stepped around her to pull out her chair for her as they reached the table. She gave him a thankful glance that quickly turned exasperated when he waggled his eyebrows at her. The Casanova mask was back in place. Instead of seating himself across the table from her, as expected, he chose the seat next to her, scooting the chair closer. The waiter waited patiently to the side, placing menus in front of them.

“What can I start you with?” he asked, pad and pen at the ready.

“Whatever dry white you recommend, and a glass of water please,” Emma asked, looking at Killian for his turn.

“Just a water for me, with a slice of lemon,” he said, tongue playing at the corner of his mouth, eyes never leaving Emma’s. She glanced down at her menu to avoid the intensity of his gaze, thankful for the cover it provided over the flush creeping up her collarbones. The waiter smiled and made his way to fill their drink order, leaving the two of them alone again.

The sounds of the other diners in the restaurant surrounded them, breaking through the silence that had descended between them. Emma hemmed and reached for her purse on the table next to her, Killian’s eyes following the movement.

“So,” she pulled the plain white envelope from the clutch and slid it across the table to him, “here is half of what we agreed on. Like a down payment, I guess? And I will give you the rest when this is done. Is that agreeable?” Killian arched a dark eyebrow and pulled the envelope to him, slipping it into the inner pocket of his vest. His face gave away nothing of what he was thinking and he barely gave the envelope a second glance.

“That’s fine, love, as I said. No rush.” He smiled at her warmly and reached over the table space to cover her hand with his, the metal of his rings smooth against her skin. Her brow furrowed as she surveyed his lack of expression.

“You’re not going to count it?” she asked curiously. He hummed an almost laugh and his blue eyes crinkled in levity as he shook his head.

“I trust you, Swan,” he said dismissively. “It’s not of any consequence. I’m enjoying your company and I don’t want to sully the mood by focusing on the business angle of this arrangement.”

“There is no other angle, Jones,” she reminded him. “This effectively is a business meeting.” Killian’s smile faded a bit at her words, but he recovered quickly with a nod.

“So you keep reminding me, darling,” he said, a sour note coloring his words that he was obviously trying to hide. Emma found herself equal parts intrigued and surprised that this continued happening when they spoke. As if he wanted more…

“Okay! Here are your waters,” a voice said, and Emma looked up to find the waiter had reappeared and was now setting two glasses on the table, one garnished with a lemon slice, then turned to wheel a bucket of ice closer, an expensive looking bottle of wine nestled among the cubes. “The bottle is at the insistence of Mr. Hightopp,” he said with a grin as he pulled it free, uncorking it with a flourish. “Would you like to sample it before I pour?”

“No, no, this is fine, I’m sure,” Emma protested, and the waiter didn’t seem fazed at all as he turned over the wine glass in front of her and poured. “That’s plenty, thank you.” She stopped him about midway. He smiled with a nod.

“Tonight’s specials are oysters on the half shell with a ceviche topping, and a smoked salmon and citrus salad with poppy seed dressing. Are we ready to order?” he asked, removing the pad and pen from the black apron at his waist and looked at them intently. Killian placed his folded menu near the waiter and Emma did the same.

“The salad is fine, please,” Emma said and the waiter hurriedly scribbled it down, looking to Killian next.

“Aye, the oysters sound perfect,” Killian replied.

“Very good, I’ll have those out for you in just a bit.” And then he was gone before they could even thank him.

“Are you sure you don’t want any wine? I can’t possibly drink that all by myself,” she said, lifting her glass to her lips. Flavor exploded on her tongue with just the small sip and her eyebrows shot up on her forehead. “Plus, that is really good.” She put her glass down and licked her lips, savoring the taste. She looked back to Killian, his eyes now a shade darker and fixed to her mouth. It was almost as if he had to force his gaze back to meet hers.

“Ah, no, love. I’m fine. Driving,” he reasoned with a shrug. “You can have as much as you like.”

“Trying to get me drunk, Jones?” Emma teased and Killian brightened at her tone.

“Afraid you'll find me even more irresistible after a few libations, love?” Killian's grin was downright lascivious. Emma rolled her eyes and took a long pointed drink from her glass.

“I think you're safe from my wanton advances,” she snarked. Killian chuckled.

“Of course, Swan. All business, I've forgotten myself,” he teased back and sat straighter, knitting his nimble fingers together. “Have at it, then. Tell me everything I need to know.” Emma was slightly taken aback by the change in course from flirty to business, but she cleared her throat and sat a little straighter herself before speaking.

“Alright, then. I think we should keep things as close to the truth as possible. That should make this whole thing easier. We met in a bar, you offered to buy me a drink, I hated your horrible pick up lines, but thought you were cute enough that I called you the next day and we've been seeing each other in secret ever since.” She nodded briskly, satisfied with this story.

“You think I'm cute?” Killian's eyes were glittering with mirth, making Emma groan.

“That would be the part you picked out. This is serious.”

“Of course, love, apologies. And what of this ex boyfriend? Neal, was it? What do I know of him?”

Emma shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his name, the jab at Neal's maturity not going unnoticed.

“Ah, well… obviously you know he's Henry's father.”

“And he is clearly a sodding imbecile for tossing you aside after ten years and a child together,” he nearly growled, and Emma's head popped up at his change in voice. He seemed to remember himself fairly quickly and smiled at her again. “Go on,” he encouraged.

“Uh, yeah. Well, nine years. I'd been with him since I was seventeen. Ran away from foster care and met him while I was trying to steal a car. One he'd already stolen and was sleeping in the backseat of.” She couldn't help the embarrassed chuckle that spilled from her lips and avoided Killian's gaze as she took another sip of liquid courage.

“No family, then, love?” he asked softly and Emma felt unbidden anger rise up in her chest.

“Hey, I have family,” she snapped, stabbing her finger into the tablecloth to mark her words. “I have a brother and friends and Henry and they're all the family I need. Blood doesn't mean shit.”

“I meant no offense, Swan, truly,” he said soothingly, taking her hand in his again and unfurling her tightly grasped fingers. He smoothed his fingertips over her palm. “I've little family myself. My own brother is the last bit of blood I have left. I understand. Please, continue.” His eyes were large and sincere and Emma felt herself relax slightly.

“Yeah,” she cleared away the tightness in her throat with a cough, “well, David's not my blood either. We were in foster care together. He looked out for me, I looked out for him. We reconnected after Henry was born while Neal was gone but I was stupid and almost lost him again a couple of years ago.”

“When Neal was gone? I thought you've only been separated for a year?” he asked, confused. Emma blushed again.

The waiter picked that moment to return to their table. He deposited their plates in front of them and quietly excused himself, seemingly noticing he was intruding on a sensitive moment.

“Uh, ha. I keep revealing these things to you out of order. Let's just start from the beginning,” she said, pushing the food around on her plate. “Just… let me get it all out, though, okay? It’s not a fun story to tell, and I don’t think I’ve told it to anyone all at once.” Killian nodded, his expression serious, and when Emma was sure he wouldn’t interrupt, she began.

She told him everything, from the fact that she was found on the side of the road as a newborn, and never met her parents, to bouncing around in foster homes, to allying with David, meeting Ruby and Elsa, to meeting and falling in what she thought was love with Neal. She told him about almost giving Henry up, Neal leaving and returning, cutting out her friends for him, and working her ass off for a better life because she wanted to give him what he wanted. She told him about Tamara. She told him about the affair and how soon he proposed and sent out wedding invitations. She told him everything.

By the end of it all, Killian had pushed their untouched plates aside and took one of her hands in both of his. She was trembling, having just relived some of her worst moments in life. Killian had listened in rapt attention to all of it, his eyes lighting up in fury in some moments, darkening in sorrow the next, even twinkling with affection and fondness when she spoke of her brother and friends. But never pity. And, true to his word, he never interrupted. It felt very… freeing to tell someone without judgement or fear of repercussions.

“So that's it. Now you know it all,” she said with a forced lightness in her words. She smiled tightly at him. He regarded her for a long moment and she tried not to squirm under his gaze.

“Tell me a good memory you had. One memory that doesn't involve someone else. Just you,” he said suddenly, taking her by surprise once again. Out of all the things he could have said, she wasn't expecting that. She thought for a moment.

“I remember the first time I went to the beach,” she said, eyes glazing slightly at the memory. “I was fourteen and I remember we travelled three hours to the Maine coast in a minivan that smelled like wet dog and throw up with six too loud kids piled on top of each other. The sky was getting overcast by the time we got there, and we almost turned around and went back to the group home. One of the counselors convinced the other that we came all this way so we might as well enjoy it while we could. I remember the second my feet hit the sand, I was running. I ran until my toes hit the water. I'd never felt so free and happy. It gave me something to hang on to, and I escaped to the beach whenever I could. It still makes me feel free.”

“That's what makes you amazing, Swan. You can always find the light in the darkness,” Killian replied, smiling warmly at her. She blushed, and picked up her fork and they ate in companionable silence, Killian's hand still wrapped firmly around hers.

#cs ff #chapter four #4/12 #escort!killian #LDCAT #love don't cost a thing

40 notes · View notes