Food it was.
She cracked eggs, opened and closed drawers and cupboards, and pretty much raised a racket, but no one emerged. When everything was done and beautifully plated thanks to her teenage stint in a restaurant kitchen, she drummed her fingers on the counter again. How long were they planning to sleep?
She got the feeling that there wasn’t much order to their lives. That was going to have to change.
She marched down to Cody’s room and went right inside. “Good morning.” She flipped up the blinds, flooding the room with midmorning sunlight.
Cody cried out and threw his hands over his face as if the light were going to melt his skin.
“Breakfast is ready,” she chirped.
Xavier stumbled in. “Whassamatter?” He scrubbed at his face.
The sight of him in a pair of pajama bottoms and no shirt made her eyes bug out. The man wasn’t an underwear model, but he had an attractive shape about him. Flat stomach. Nice rounded shoulders. And he smelled like freshly laundered sheets and sleep. Good heavens, the combination was like a blowtorch heating up her whole body. She held her breath, needing to keep Xavier out of her. “Breakfast is ready,” she said all breathy and unsure—like some teenager meeting her rock star crush.
Xavier yawned and stretched his hands over his head, grabbing the doorframe. Sheesh, for a non-underwear model, he sure knew how to strike a hot pose. Emily ducked her head, trapped between wanting to stare at his long and lean body and needing air. She released the breath she’d held, doing her best not to make it look like she was gasping for air, because who does that when staring at half-naked men? Women who want the half-naked man. And she didn’t want him want him. She just wanted him to put on a shirt so she could think.
“The coolest hours of the day are slipping away from us, and there’s so much to do.” She flapped her arms out to the side.
Cody ducked under his pillow.
Okay, so they were not morning people … Something had to get them moving. “We need to go bike shopping,” she offered hopefully.
Cody peeked out from under his pillow. Xavier dropped his arms and groaned, leaving without a word. His door clicked shut a moment later.
Well, that was … grumpy. There hadn’t been a morning in her life that her mom didn’t have a fantastic attitude. Moms set the tone of the house—at least, that’s what Dad said. He could be a bear at times, but Mom always managed to keep things upbeat. Emily could do that too.
“Come on, little man. Your bike is waiting out there, and breakfast is on the table.” Getting colder by the second. She turned toward the dresser, cringing at the thought of rubbery eggs and the poor impression they’d make on her new stepson. The sound of water running through pipes hit her ears, and she relaxed a little knowing Xavier was at least making an effort to get the day going. She found a pair of shorts and a matching T-shirt with a shark on the front and handed them to Cody, who was sitting up. “See you in a second.”
She shut the door behind her but leaned her ear against it, listening for the sound of him moving around. Sheets rustled and the mattress squeaked. A second later, another drawer opened. Good.
She took a deep breath and headed back to the kitchen. The eggs were still warm in the casserole dish. In order to keep busy, she washed her hands and created a breakfast taco for Cody, adding pico de gallo and blue cheese crumbles. He came out just as she finished, and she handed him his plate.
“What’s this?”
Mom would have said, “Let’s start with a thank-you.”
Emily clamped down on her mom’s advice. She needed to build up to that kind of a relationship, but she was at a loss because she didn’t have another mom in her head to offer help. “It’s a breakfast taco.”
He sighed heavily and headed to the fridge. Curious, she watched as Cody pulled out the ketchup and doused the plate. He then went to the counter, set the plate down, climbed up on a barstool, and took the world’s smallest bite.
She decided not to get into a debate about the amount of sugar in ketchup this morning, then second-guessed herself. She was here to help Cody manage his health as much as she was to teach him how to pick up after himself. Baby steps.
The kid was eating what she’d made, albeit reluctantly. She made herself a taco and sat next to him. The food was delicious. Hopefully, Xavier appreciated it more than his son did.
“What kind of biking do you want to try? Street or mountain?”
“Mountain,” he said around a mouth full of food. She snagged a napkin out of the holder and wiped his chin.
“Mountain it is.” Her heart leapt. She might not be teaching a gaggle of littles this summer, but she’d be able to teach this guy how to take on a trail run and come off covered in dusts and sporting a smile.
Xavier appeared, smelling like soap. Why was she so in tune with his scent? It was like her nose was drawn to him or something. Focus on something else, she commanded herself. She looked closer at his hair, which was still damp from the shower, and decided that wasn’t a good idea either, because all she could think about was how it would feel running through her fingers.
This was getting out of hand! She should not be thinking things like this!
Say something normal.
“Breakfast is cold,” she blurted.
Don’t sound like a nag. For the love. Were there any brain cells inside her head? At this rate, he’d regret marrying her by noon.
Xavier took in the serving dishes and the set table. Cody had a pile of something covered in ketchup on his plate that he was slowly working his way through. He was usually famished in the morning, but he was picking at the breakfast Emily provided.
And what a wonderful breakfast it was—so good his mouth watered. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had anything other than cereal. He sat down and began filling his plate. “It looks great.”
He shoveled a bite of eggs and was greeted with a mouthful of cold, rubbery things. She’d said it was cold. He should have skipped the shower and come right out, but he needed the cold water to wake him up and turn off his warm thoughts towards his wife.
“I’m just going to reheat it. I’m sure it is delicious.” He bolted to the microwave, worried that if he didn’t make a big enough deal about her making breakfast, she wouldn’t do it again. “Where did you find all this food?” She was like an elf, all shoemaker magic—er, kitchen magic.
She chuckled. “At the store.”
“What time did you get up?” The microwave dinged, and he retrieved his breakfast. The pico had melted into the eggs, and the cheese was weird little globs. He sniffed. What kind of cheese was this? Mozzarella and cheddar were the two main options in his palate. It seemed okay. He sat down again and took another bite.
“About six,” she replied.
He choked. The food was too hot, and he was shocked at her answer. “Why?”
She eyed him. “Some of the best hours of the day are right after sunrise. And if you want to run or bike outside, you have to get up before the heat.”
“You biked already?”
She shook her head, handing him a napkin. He self-consciously scraped it across his face, not knowing exactly where the mess was, because his stubble made it difficult to feel food on his face.
Cody set his fork down. “I’m done.”
Emily frowned at his plate of ketchup soup for a second. She brightened quickly and nodded. “Please take your plate to the sink and clean it off.”
He nodded.
So far, Cody had been a pretty obedient kid. Of course, he wasn’t one to make waves that often. Even as a toddler, he’d rarely thrown a temper tantrum. But he didn’t get that excited either, which worried Xander. Shouldn’t Christmas morning be full of noise? It was usually a quiet morning around here—just like every other morning.
Xander felt the need to fill in the silence his son created. “Thank you for making breakfast. It’s really good—even heated up a second time. Can we save the leftovers?”
“Um, I’ve never tried.”
“I might just eat it all right now.” He made himself another taco. “What do you think a good time would be for a kid to get up in the summer?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Seven?”
“Seven!” The word was like sandpaper on his tongue. He liked being up late, always had. And he did some of his best work in the twilight hours, necessitating sleeping in the next day.
She brushed her hand across her mouth as if wiping away a smile. “Seven-thirty, then.”
He gulped down the taco. “Maybe we should ease into this a little.”
“Fine. We’ll try eight tomorrow and see how it goes. But if he’s going to ride trails, he’s going to need to be up with the sun. Some routes can take an hour or more.”
He bit off his remark about how crazy that sounded. There were people in the world who loved mornings—he just hadn’t met any of them. Even in his work, most people were late-nighters. That was when things got done, concerts were given, deals were made, and dinner happened. He hoped that didn’t cause problems for her in the long run. That is, IF he was able to write a new song, and IF he sold it, and IF he had to meet with agents and managers and singers.
He had to write a song first. These two could get out the door, and he’d have the house all to himself. The blessedly clean house. The piano in his head rang with music, and he was itching to get it down on paper.
“Dad, can we get my bike now?” Cody’s imploring eyes were more than he could handle.
He held back his sigh. How could he ever say no to that? Besides, getting a bike was a big deal in a kid’s life. The fact that he hadn’t done it before now was slightly embarrassing. “Just let me put on some shoes.”
“Me too.” Cody dashed to his room.
Xavier sought out Emily and locked gazes with her. They shared one of those parent looks he’d seen other couples do when their kid was adorable, and his chest warmed. He took a moment to really look at her. She had on a baggy tee and loose pants, but they couldn’t hide her lean and shapely legs or her sculpted arms. She had smooth cheekbones and tiny wrinkles around her eyes. She leaned back as if his gaze was too much for her, and he turned quickly to the side.
They hurried around, doing the last-minute things that would get them out the door. He started the dishwasher, and she retrieved her purse from her room. Soon, the three of them were in the car, driving into town.
“You missed the turn. Goodwill is that way.” She pointed out her window.
“Goodwill?!” He spat the word. He might be down on his luck and not sold a song in years, but that didn’t mean they were destitute. Did the couches look that bad? Had she taken one look at their home and decided they were poor? “We do not need to shop at Goodwill.”
She leaned into the door, glancing quickly at Cody, who was happily watching a movie in the back seat. Making a visible effort, she spoke in a singsong voice. “Tourist families buy bikes for a week and then donate them. It would be a great way to get a high-quality bike without spending a lot of money.”
She had judged him. “It’s my money, and if I want to throw it away on a bike for my kid, then I will.” He’d buy the most expensive bike in the store, and then one for himself too, just to show her he could.
Emily turned toward the window. “Let’s go blow some cash, then.” Her tone was calm enough, but her words hit their mark. She settled deeper into her seat, as if she wished she were anywhere but in the car with him.
He was screwing this up. Not just this conversation, but the marriage thing. He’d thought just yesterday that he wanted to make sure she was happy with him. Already he’d let his pride get in the way.
A huge sense of self-loathing grew inside of him. First, for sounding like a snob. He had no issue buying secondhand—he’d practically grown up in his cousin’s hand-me-downs. And second, for snapping at her, which seemed to have turned off her happiness. He’d become a wet blanket. A happiness squisher. The exact type of person he’d always hated as a kid—the adult that told the children they were being too loud when they were laughing. He didn’t like that at all. “I’m sorry I got a little defensive there.”
She lifted a shoulder. “If you want to pay full price, I won’t object.”
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He made an illegal U-turn and headed back the way they came. “I know I haven’t kept up the house all that great—it could use new carpet and a furniture upgrade. It’s not that way because I don’t have the money to make the change. I just … I haven’t had the desire.”
She turned to him, and her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “I don’t understand. Your house is fine. You don’t need to change anything because I’m there.”
She’d missed the point, but he wasn’t sure if he could explain all the intricacies of losing a spouse and then losing yourself in the grief only to come out feeling like half of a whole person.
“Thanks.” He turned in to the parking lot at Goodwill. “What I meant to say was, I haven’t shopped here before, but if you think it’s a good idea, then I’m willing to give it a shot.”
A small smile appeared on her pretty lips. “Next time, start with that.” She gave his arm a shove, and her hand lingered. Her flesh was warm against his, real, and it made him feel alive—like electricity hummed through his veins that had been quiet for too long.
He stared at the spot of contact.
“What?” She glanced down, pulling her hand away.
“I just …” Realized you’re a woman? Missed the feeling of a female touch? Noticed how delicate your hands are? “Let’s go.” He sprang from the car, noting that the temperature outside was much cooler than it had been in the cab. Or maybe it was that Emily made his body feel warm in ways that the sunshine couldn’t match.
9
Emily
Emily sat in the car, stunned by Xavier’s disappearing act. What was that? All she’d done was joke with him a little, and he’d looked at her like she was an alien species.
A thought seized her brain like the icy chill of too much ice cream on a hot summer’s day. He could have thought … oh, heaven help her … he could have thought she was flirting!
She wasn’t. Honest to Abe Lincoln, she wasn’t flirting with her husband. Sure, she had a light level of attraction to him that morning, the kind that any red-blooded woman would have to a man who looked good with his shirt off and eyes heavy-lidded with sleep. And the fact that his stubble was really sexy did not mean that she was going to do something stupid—like run her fingers over it or brush her cheek against his. He was crazy if he thought she’d do something like that—or even think about it. Because she wasn’t … thinking about doing any of that. They were just examples of what she wasn’t going to do.
She jumped out too, the car suddenly smelling much too soapy clean—like him. She yanked the back door open and talked Cody through pausing the movie and getting out of his car seat. Xavier was back, reaching his hand out for Cody to take.
The three of them crossed the small parking lot and went inside. Cody looked at her and then reached for her hand too, smiling like he’d won a year of free Cheetos. He swung their arms back and forth, giggling.
She smiled at Xavier, sharing the moment. Her mama heart burst with the pure, sweet joy of hearing Cody giggle. They walked down the large middle aisle, headed towards the sporting goods at the back. To anyone else, they probably looked like a happy little family running errands. She sank into the feeling and emotionally rolled around in it like a kid in a mud puddle enjoying every second.
They passed another couple by the changing rooms. The woman giggled as the man kissed her neck, the love they shared as palpable as the cashmere sweater that brushed Emily’s arm. Her heart panged for that kind of connection, but she adjusted her grip on Cody’s hand. Being a mom was enough for her. She didn’t need romantic love—it faded into a deep and abiding friendship over time anyway. She and Xavier were jumping the line and getting
to the good parts early on.
“Bike!” Cody dropped both their hands and raced for the hot rod red bike on the end of the aisle. The tires still had the black spoke things from the factory, and the seat was shiny and new. There were two other bikes his size, but he wasn’t interested in either of them. “This one.” He climbed on and began pushing himself up and down the aisle.
“How did you know about the tourist families who donated bikes?” Xavier asked as they watched Cody scoot along.
“Huh? Oh, I spend a lot of time on the trails.” She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “And I was hoping to get a job as a guide this year. They have a small staff and can afford to be picky about who they hire. I’ve helped several of the higher-ups and their wives recoup after knee surgery—they were ready to recommend me for the job.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
She hesitated, wondering how much she should tell him. Roger had left town with his girlfriend, but the latest update Emily received from the officer over her case was that he was married with three kids and lived in Minnesota. Married! With a girlfriend who bailed him out of jail. Those poor children.
“Emily—look!” Cody whizzed by and barely managed to stop himself before hitting the shelves.
“Great job!” she cheered him on.
He looked over his shoulder, his big blue eyes glowing with pride.
She made a decision right then and there that she wasn’t going to taint her new family with any part of Roger’s decisions or the darkness that was in her past. “I guess I was ready for a change and ready to be a mom. Your ad spoke to me.”
One cheek lifted in a lopsided smile. “People used to say that about my songs.”
“Used to?” She tried to change the subject.
“They will again,” he said in a way that left her wondering if he believed the words himself. “But look at you. You’re already getting the hang of this mom thing.”
She grinned. “Thanks. I’m already head over heels for this kid.”
The Cowboy Songwriter's Fake Marriage Page 5