Unintentionally Mine

by Stephanie Rowe

  She was too surprised to answer, and stole a quick look at the two women. They had stopped a few feet away, annoyed disappointment on their faces.

  "Em?"

  She looked back up at him, and the strangest feeling of warmth began to spread through her. The smile she gave him was real, and she felt it all the way to her heart. "I'm good," she said. "Thank you."

  He raised his eyebrow. "For what?"

  "For honoring me." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.

  He didn't pull away. Even though they were in the middle of a crowded area, a few feet from two women who clearly wanted to get some action from him, he didn't shrug her off with some muttered excuse. In fact, he actually locked his arm around her lower back, hauled her against him, and upped the heat on the kiss by about a thousandfold.

  He broke the kiss quickly, but there was a satisfied grin on his face as he drew away. "You're putty in my hands," he observed.

  Emma's cheeks heated up. "I think it's the other way around."

  He grinned at her as he slung his arm over her shoulder again. "Oh, my darling, there is no doubt about that." He kissed the top of her head affectionately, leading her past the two younger women without even glancing their way.

  Emma couldn't quite keep herself from grinning broadly at them as she leaned into Harlan. Yes, it was a little childish, but it just felt good to know that the man she was with didn't want anyone else. She was still grinning as Jackson came up to them, handed Harlan a beer, and tipped his hat to Emma. "Congratulations, my dear," he said. "I hope you know what you're doing." There were questions in his eyes, just as Harlan had predicted.

  She smiled, casting about in her mind for a response that would sound legitimate and innocent. "I'm happy," she said simply, but even as she said it, guilt flickered through her. Could she really lie to all these people? Not that he didn't make her happy, but not in the forever-and-ever way that she needed to present to everyone.

  Harlan squeezed her hand, and she managed a smile.

  Jackson grinned, but there was still concern in his face. "If you're happy, that's what matters." He kissed her cheek, and a flicker of fear drifted through Emma.

  Jackson was Harlan's best friend. If he was worried about her being with him...what did he know? Did he see the same things in Harlan that her husband saw in himself?

  They hadn't even made it ten more yards, when the owner of the town's hardware store, Link Nelson, strode up. Although he was only in his late thirties, his dark hair was flecked with gray, but he had the same powerful build he'd always had. He was another Birch Crossing original, graduating from the regional high school, and then disappearing for almost ten years before he'd bought the hardware store five years ago. Emma didn't know him well, but he'd always been a nice enough guy.

  "Harlan!" Link grinned at him. "It's good to see you back. The real estate market in town is tanking without you. No one wants to list their houses with anyone else. You need to get things moving again. People are hanging onto homes, and they need to sell them to new folks who will remodel. The lumber business has gone to hell without you to keep the market going."

  Harlan blinked. "I'm not starting up my business again, Link—"

  "Of course you are. We need you." Link nodded at Jackson. "You with me, Jackson?"

  "Hell, yeah. We need you back, man." The two men started in on Harlan, working on him to hang up his travels and settle down in Birch Crossing.

  "Hey!" Griffin Friesé, Clare's husband, slammed his hand down on Jackson's shoulder. "Volleyball court just opened up. Let's get it started. Me and Harlan against you two." Link and Jackson were all over it, and before Harlan could finish explaining about his hip, they'd abducted him toward the south end of the field.

  As other people joined them, Harlan relaxed visibly, shaking hands and accepting congratulations. Emma heard his laugh echo across the grass as he met up with other townspeople welcoming him back, a man who belonged in Birch Crossing even though he'd been away for over a year.

  Emma smiled as she watched him. He was charming and personable, even when taking the hits about keeping his relationship with his new wife a secret. He glanced back at her once, and raised his eyebrows, as if to ask whether he was doing all right.

  She grinned and gave him a thumbs up, laughing as he was redirected toward the beer tent. This was the man who wanted to leave this town? The people loved him and had welcomed him back with open arms. As she watched more and more people cluster around him, thumping him on the back in congratulations, she felt the genuineness of the town's reception of him.

  "He looks good," Clare said, appearing at her elbow.

  "People like him," Emma said quietly.

  "Of course they do. He's a nice guy."

  Emma bit her lip, thinking back to the fair when she'd started dating Preston, the man she'd had a crush on from afar for years. She didn't remember the people from the town approaching him. She and Preston had spent all their time with his friends, with the summer folk. That experience was so different from even these few minutes with Harlan. "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Of course."

  She looked at her friend. "Did you like Preston?"

  Clare cleared her throat. "The truth? No, not really, but we didn't know him very well. He'd been summering here for years, but his family wasn't one of those who really socialized with us. But we all had hoped that whatever you saw in him was real."

  "So, everyone in town saw Preston for what he was, everyone except me." She'd been such a fool, so desperate for a family and to be loved that she'd seen only what she wanted to see. Sighing, she watched Harlan get swept into a rowdy discussion about whether to open the town boat ramp to non-residents, and smiled when she saw people listening to his opinion. "Harlan's different, don't you think? He's a good man." Despite what he thought. Despite what Jackson thought.

  Clare raised her brows. "That doesn't sound like the kind of question you'd ask about a man who you were only pretending to be happily married to. That sounds like the kind of question you'd ask if you were actually falling for him."

  Emma clenched her fists. "No," she said firmly. "I'm not."

  Clare gave her a skeptical look. "No?"

  "Absolutely not." Emma bit her lower lip and glanced at her friend, needing an answer to the question she'd already asked. "You do think he's a good guy, right?"

  "Hey." Clare touched her arm, her face softening with understanding. "It doesn't matter what people think. No one believed in Griffin, but he's a wonderful man. People all thought my first husband was a great guy, and most of them still do, but he wasn't. Only you know the truth about Harlan. What works for you may not work for anyone else, but it doesn't have to. It's only about you and him."

  Emma grimaced. "That doesn't help. I don't have a good track record for making good judgments about men."

  "Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts." Clare looked across at Griffin, who had given up on the volleyball and was now back at the Wright's food stand he was running, where the sign simply said to pay what you could pay, and take the food for free if you needed to. "I had a bad marriage, Emma, and fifteen challenging years afterwards, until I met Griffin. It's better to be alone than with the wrong person, but if you find your way to the right person, then nothing will ever shake you again." She looked at her. "It's your life. It's your call. No one else's. Don’t worry about what other people think. Just focus on what your heart is telling you." She touched Emma's arm. "You care about him, don't you?"

  Emma sighed, restlessly fiddling with her bracelets. "There's something about him that calls to me, but I don't know if it's enough. He has issues."

  "Don't we all have issues, sweetie?"

  Emma managed to laugh at that one. "Okay, good point."

  "You'll figure it out. Just be patient. You don't need all the answers now." Clare winked. "Besides, you've already had sex with him, and you already married him, so it's not like you have any big decisions left
to make, right? Just enjoy the night. Fool the crowd. Kiss a hot guy. It's all good."

  "Yeah, okay." Emma took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. "You're right. Thanks for the advice."

  "Anytime." Clare nodded at Griffin, who was beckoning to her. "I need to rescue my man. Dinner, later?"

  "Yes, of course." Emma hugged Clare good-bye, then stiffened when she saw Astrid across the field, chatting with Jason and his parents, who had come to town for the festival. Jason was holding their baby, and Astrid was smiling, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. She looked drained and exhausted, and Emma suddenly realized that Harlan might not have talked to Astrid yet. Did she still think he was missing?

  Astrid looked across the field and caught Emma's eyes, and her face grew more shuttered, as if she blamed Emma for Harlan's disappearance. Emma realized her assumption was correct, that Astrid didn't know he was back. How had he not approached Astrid yet? What kind of man would torment his sister like that? Sudden anger surged through her, and she pointed at Harlan, directing Astrid's attention toward her brother.

  Astrid turned her head to look, and then her face went stark white, and her mouth dropped open. And then she was running, running, running across the field, shouting his name. He spun around, his face shocked as he saw Astrid nearing. He barely had time to open his arms before his sister flung herself into them. Astrid buried her face in his neck, clinging to him as if she was afraid he would vanish right out of her arms.

  Tears filled Emma's eyes as she watched Harlan's awkward response and his hesitation, until he finally returned the hug. It was so apparent that Astrid loved him dearly, her wayward brother who thought he had nothing to offer her.

  As Emma watched Astrid pull back, tears rolling down her cheeks as she framed Harlan's face with her hands, Emma realized that Astrid saw in him the same things that Emma did. Maybe he had a tough background. Maybe he lived a dark life. But somewhere in the depths of his soul, there was something good. Something honorable. Something worth holding onto.

  She wasn't going to keep him. She wasn't going to fall in love with him. And she wasn't going to turn her life over to him. But one thing was for absolute certain: she'd chosen the right man to marry so she could bring Mattie home.

  He wouldn't let them down. He wouldn't betray them. He wouldn't hurt them. The realization was a rush, a sense of freedom as she began to walk across the field, to her man, her husband, to claim him in front of everyone else. He looked up and saw her coming. Astrid turned in his arms, a tight-knit brother-sister unit, the kind of family bond Emma had craved her whole life, but never found.

  Even now, she felt herself slow down, not wanting to intrude—

  Then Harlan held out his hand to her. "Come," he said.

  But still Emma hesitated, unsure about Astrid's reception. Then Astrid held out her hand to Emma, too. "I'm still mad at you both," she said, a teary smile still on her face, "but I'm so happy to see my brother that all I want to do is hug both of you. Come on, Em." Her smile broadened. "Sis," she added.

  "Sis?" Emma echoed, unable to keep her voice from cracking.

  "Of course." Astrid grabbed her hand and yanked her close, and then Emma found herself sandwiched between them, hugged tightly as if that was exactly where she belonged.

  Chapter 13

  "I can't believe I'm doing this." Almost five hours later, Harlan watched Emma tie a strip of burlap cloth around their ankles, binding them together, not quite able to believe he was standing in a field, barefoot, about to do a three-legged race.

  The sun had set, and most of the families had gone from the fair, turning it into a more adult evening. Hot dogs, burgers, and Birch's Best beer had created a festive atmosphere in which plastic knives tapping on beer bottles had commanded that Harlan kiss Emma seventeen times during dinner.

  Not that he'd been counting, but Eppie had. Loudly. Threatening the crowd each time too long had passed since he'd last kissed his wife. Weirdly, he hadn't minded it. It had been…fun, in a surreal sort of way. It felt like he was visiting someone else's life, and finding it not as foreign or difficult as he'd expected it to be.

  "Oh come on. It's a Birch Crossing tradition. Everyone who has been married less than a year has to do the three-legged race." Emma grinned up at him, her eyes glowing. "I didn't get to do this with Preston because we didn't come to the fair the year after we got married. Now's my chance, and you're not going to bail on me."

  "Did I mention that I blew out my hip when I almost died?" Harlan glanced around as the rowdy crowd cheered them on. There were twenty people getting tied together, ten sets of newlyweds. Two of the couples had more gray hair and wrinkles than Eppie, but they were all grinning. "You're going to cripple me."

  "It's your other hip, and we'll go slow," she said as she tied his right knee to her left knee. "I promise to take care of you," she teased, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.

  Harlan pretended to scowl at her, but he couldn't quite help being amused by her sassy expression. He liked it. He liked seeing her happy and carefree. "Do you realize what an insult that is to my male ego for you to even suggest you have to take care of me?"

  She grinned up at him, but suddenly, he forgot about everything they were talking about. Her tank top had slipped down, and he could see the swell of her breasts, and the plunging crevice between them. He went hard, rock hard, almost instantly.

  Emma's smile vanished, and her breath caught as her fingers stilled on the knot. "Oh, my," she whispered, her cheeks turning red. "No one has ever looked at me like that."

  "Like what?" His voice was raspy, croaking as he fought down the desire that had suddenly surged through him, despite the ridiculously inappropriate surroundings.

  "Like that."

  He cleared his throat, jerking his gaze off her breasts and back to her face. "Sorry."

  "No," she said. "It's fantastic. I love it."

  "Oh, well, in that case…" He broke out into a grin then, and she beamed up at him, intensifying the battle he was waging not to jump her right then and there. "How is it that I married the hottest girl in town?"

  "You're just a lucky guy, I guess." She picked up a third piece of burlap and slid it around his inner thigh.

  He sucked in his breath as she stood, leaning her thigh against his as she looped it around her leg. "No woman has ever tied me up before," he said, unable to keep the heated desire from his voice.

  "I've never tied anyone up before," she said as she bound them together, a wicked gleam in her eye that did nothing to help him regain control of the lower half of his body. "I guess that's why this race is for newlyweds. It's too spicy for old married folks."

  "Is that why?" He couldn't take his gaze off her, couldn't stop from sliding his hand over the soft flesh of her bare shoulder as she straightened up, so close to him that he could have kissed her without even bending over.

  "Maybe." She slid her arm around his waist. "Put your arm around me."

  "It's about time you gave me that order," he grunted as he locked his arm around her shoulders, tucking her up against him. Her body fit perfectly, and he had a sudden, beautiful memory of exactly how well they fit together.

  Then the starting bell went off. They took one step, and immediately went down in a pile of tangled limbs. Instantly, all thoughts of sex were swallowed up by the sight of Emma laughing so hard that she had to hold her sides.

  He was riveted by the sheer joy shining on her face. He'd never seen her so happy, so relaxed, so beautiful.

  "Come on," she laughed, as she tugged at his arm. "Get up, you big oaf."

  He became aware of people hooting their names, urging them to keep going. He surged to his feet, making sure to take his weight on his good leg, and then pulled Emma up. A gray-haired couple who were in their seventies was already ten feet ahead. "Come on, babe, we're not getting beaten by them." He locked her against him, took a step, and they both face-planted back into the grass again.

  Laughter roared arou
nd them, and Emma was cracking up. This time, even he had to laugh as he tried to untangle himself from his wife. As it turned out, the mere act of standing up when one of his legs was firmly attached to Emma's wasn't that easy.

  "You have to time your steps with mine," she ordered him, still laughing as they fought to stand up again. "We'll never have a successful marriage if you don't learn to notice me."

  Enduring a chorus of friendly jeers from the crowd, Harlan and Emma managed to right themselves this time. Even Harlan was chuckling as Emma held up her fingers. "On three," she said, "take a step with your right leg! One, two, three!"

  This time, he followed her orders, and they hobbled along after the others, gaining speed, catching up to the old couple. They were almost there, almost in the lead. Yeah, they were going to win!

  "Slow down," Emma shouted, pinching his waist. "I can't keep up—"

  Harlan slowed instantly, too fast, and then they were down again, in a tangled heap on the grass as the gray-haired speedsters shot across the finish line to resounding applause. Emma was giggling as Harlan flopped beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. Her hair was spread over the grass, the smile on her face riveting as she laughed. He realized he was laughing as hard as she was.

  Shit. Who the hell knew that being married was so much damned fun?

  * * *

  "So, why the rush?" Eppie asked, as they were sitting around one of the tables an hour later. The band had started, the dance floor was open, and the Christmas lights had been turned on so they cast a cheerful light on the sheets of plywood that Link had donated from his hardware store for the dance floor.

  Emma was sitting in one of the end chairs leaning against Harlan, and the table was full. Astrid and Jason, Griffin and Clare, plus Astrid's stepfather, who everyone was pretty sure was having a fling with Eppie, and some of the others from the town.

  "What rush?" Emma said as she yawned. It had been an amazing evening. She'd always loved the opening night of the festival, but it was a completely different experience enjoying it with Harlan. It was amazing to have someone to laugh with, to partner with, and to root for. Someone who was there only for her. She knew that the night had been a gift she would remember for a long time.