Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Emerson
I twist my hands together. I’m riding with Lane in his pickup.
It’s nicer than any vehicle I’ve ever been in.
Newer, but the layer of fine dust on the dash puts me at ease, for the truck ride at least. This morning, instead of dressing in jeans, I put on a new gauzy skirt that I couldn’t resist when I was shopping with Brooks.
It was on a clearance rack, begging for a home, and Hillary had my back.
“Buy it, Auntie Em.”
So I did, and I paired it with a cream top and sporty sandals I convinced myself would be handy living at Lane’s place. Then I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and curled the damn thing.
I refuse to resemble the dirty girl in old clothes I once was. When I emerged from my room, Lane’s hungry gaze ate me up from head to toe, giving this outfit new motivation. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember why I needed to look good.
It’s for me. I recall that now as I gaze out the window. Downtown is cuter than when I left. New business signs are interspersed with old ones. The streetlamps are new and have flower pots full of petunias attached. The darling of it all is the bakery, Dee’s Sweets.
My stomach clenches. I’m going to see people I know. Lane puts his hand on mine and gives me an understanding look. He maneuvers into a spot a few away from the bakery.
“What if I see people I went to school with?” I should shut my mouth, but dammit, he’s easy to talk to. “What if I see the girls who never invited me to their birthday parties after my mom left?”
“You’ve been better than them for so long, you don’t even realize it.”
“What about the boys who teased me for having a flat chest, but then bragged to their buddies that they took my virginity?”
Anger clouds his features. “They’re going to fucking regret fumbling you.”
Everything inside me melts faster than last night’s ice cream. The treat was delicious, but it was better hanging out with him. “I think five guys claimed to take my virginity, but I held on to that fucker until I was twenty-two. And that guy cheated on me.”
“Tell me who it was, and I’ll find him and put sugar in his gas tank.”
His threat fills me with the warm fuzzies. “I haven’t had someone defend my honor since Brooks heard one of those assholes talking shit his senior year. He caught him in the parking lot.”
“Did he get in trouble?”
“No, surprisingly, but it wasn’t a good look for the other guy. He was eighteen and I was fourteen.”
“Protective older brothers can be good to have around.”
My smile wanes. “Yeah. Until their girlfriend doesn’t like that the little sister is always around.”
His brows crash together and his lips thin as he pieces it together. “Hillary’s mom?”
“Yep. Used having a baby to justify Brooks kicking me out.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance I don’t feel. “I guess I can’t blame her. I was an adult, but it took me longer to finish school since I was waiting tables full-time. She got impatient, and they really did need the room.”
The furrow doesn’t leave his forehead. One day, I’ll quit spilling pathetic details about myself.
Today is not that day. I hop out before I can repeat what Hutch said when I told him I wanted to leave Huckleberry Springs with Brooks.
Lane does the same, coming around the front of the pickup to meet me.
He rests his hand on the small of my back like he’s steering me into the bakery. I let him, soaking up his strength.
Inside, my gaze darts around. A young girl works behind the counter beside a dark-haired woman. The booths are filled with people. No immediately familiar faces stand out, except for the woman.
She sees Lane and lights up, smiling wide. Her gaze shifts to me, and her grin grows. She scurries around the counter.
“Emerson?”
She’s wearing leggings and an oversized shirt that’s tied down with an apron. Her hair is pulled into two buns at the top of her head.
She’s like an adult version of the Elodie Palmer I went to school with, but she doesn’t have the quiet seriousness I remember. Didn’t Elodie have a younger sister? “Clementine.”
She does a little shimmy. “That’s so cool. I always figure I’m forgettable.”
She does? That’s so sad, but who am I to talk? “Same.”
Someone emerges from the back, and that’s the Elodie I recall, glasses and everything. Clem waves at her.
“Elodie, it’s Emerson.” Clem winks at me. “Your sister-in-law.”
Elodie smiles at me, and I’m struck by how stunning she is. A sharp gaze with hazel eyes darker than mine and glossy black hair. She can’t hide in her baggy clothes. “It’s nice to see you. I hear you’re with us for a bit.”
“Seems that way.”
An older guy comes up to Lane. “Congrats. I heard the good news. I expected a big shindig like the rest of you Foster House boys had.” He turns his attention to me and shoves his hand out.
I take it automatically, and he pumps my arm.
“Welcome to Huckleberry Springs. I heard you’re from Denver, but I hope you like it here. ”
Ned from the gas station doesn’t recognize me.
A weird defensiveness rises. It should be “Welcome back” or “Good to have you back.” I lived in Huckleberry Springs longer than Lane has.
Besides, Ned’s daughter was the one who used to make fun of my clothing, and her friend told me my mom probably left because I was boring.
“Actually, I’m from here. Emerson Langley. Hutch was my dad.”
All eyes are on us, but I imagine steel running down my spine, lining it, and I lift my chin. I’m not hiding at Lane’s place anymore.
“Oh, the heck.” Recognition fills his eyes. “Little Emerson, yes. My gosh, you look like your mother.”
That’s a slap in the face. “It’s been a while since I heard that.” I lean into Lane, and he anchors his arm around me.
Grinning, Ned leaves, as if his only purpose at the bakery today was to keep the spotlight on me.
I brave a look around. People are beaming at us, indulgent expressions on their faces, but not for me.
Lane’s some sort of local paragon, and they all love to see him happy and married.
Only he’s not really married. Is he happy?
I glance up at him, but his concerned focus is on me. Giving him a small nod, I can’t lie. I am okay. The interaction with Ned isn’t going to be a setback. I won’t let it.
I aim a smile at Elodie and Clem. “What have you two been up to in the last twenty years?”
“Oh, you know. Nothing exciting.” Elodie smiles, but her demeanor closes off, and it’s fascinating. Guess I’m not the only one who’s returned with more to their story. “Except for Dee’s Sweets, of course, and giving in to Cruz.”
“She made him wait five years.” Clem sounds giddy about that, but not about Elodie making Cruz wait. More because a guy was so into her sister that he pursued her for that long.
“To be fair,” Elodie clarifies, “I didn’t know he was truly interested. He can seem like a flirt.”
“What she calls a flirt, I call being nice,” a guy says from behind me.
He just walked in, and I blink at him. He’s familiar, but I’ve never met him, yet I know exactly who he is.
His dark hair is slightly longer than Lane’s, his blue eyes a touch darker, but his smile has fewer boundaries.
“I was flirting with her though, and now she knows it.”
“Just like Lane,” I tease. Where is my playfulness coming from? “Nothing but a flirt.”
Clementine tilts her head like she’s trying to see another Lane superimposed over the man in front of her.
Elodie’s lips quirk like she’s holding back a smirk. “I’ve told Cruz so many times that Lane has to quit being such a flirt or girls around town are going to get the wrong idea.”
If it wasn’t for her dry tone, I might be battling some unwanted jealousy. Who’s Lane been trying to pick up? But from the sounds of it, no one.
“I’ve told him a million times,” Clementine says, a smile dancing on her lips. “But Edna said he almost left bingo night with four phone numbers and two invites to summer homes in Phoenix.”
“It was one phone number to meet someone’s granddaughter at the summer home.
” Lane shakes his head. “I said no, by the way. Didn’t know I hired such a smart-ass.
” He loosens his hold on me only so he can face me better.
“Clem gives tours at the distillery. It’s not enough she’s also a librarian and an author. ”
Clementine shrugs. “And I help out here. I’m also tragically single, but I’m too tied to Huckleberry Springs to leave.” She glances at the girl taking orders. “I’d better get back to work. I have the toughest bosses.”
Elodie smirks at her. “I’ll take it out of your tips.” She turns to me. “She gives those to whoever she’s working with.”
“That’s really sweet.” I used to work in a coffee shop when I was in college. My boss emptied the tip jar for herself, but I always respected the manager who watched out for us when she wasn’t there.
Elodie’s shy smile grows. “Cruz and I would like to have you two over. Whenever works for you. No pretenses; just come and catch up.”
Cruz nods, his expression serious. “We’re all family now.”
Shock and recoil are my knee-jerk reactions, but I keep my features smooth. Brooks and Hillary are my only family. I can’t be related to all these people. They don’t know me.
“Just let us know.” Elodie’s tone is reassuring. “Whenever you’re ready. Like I said, no pressure.”
“I like the sound of that.” And I really do. I like it too much.
Lane
Water rains down on me from the six showerheads in my walk-in shower.
I can’t turn my thoughts away from Emerson.
The hesitant way she entered Dee’s Sweets.
How she slowly loosened up. The way she tensed again when Cruz claimed we were all family.
That girl breaks my damn heart. Yet it’s not my heart I’m struggling with under the shower’s spray.
My dick stirs, and my imagination goes wild. What if Emerson crept into the bathroom and appeared at the entrance? What if she was naked? What if she wanted me as much as I want her?