Not Part of the Plan: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 4)

by Lucy Score

  A beautiful horse with a glossy chestnut coat and perfect white star on her nose shoved her head out of her stall, nodding her big head at Joey.

  “Hey there, beautiful,” Joey said, stroking a hand down the horse’s neck. “When’s that baby coming, Calypso?”

  Calypso shook her great head, tossing her mane. She was hugely pregnant with the first foal of the Pierce Acres breeding program. A monumental start thanks to Jax’s efforts to win Joey over with the gift of two spectacular specimens of horseflesh. Calypso and her stallion, Apollo, would cement the Pierces’ place in the world of horse breeding.

  “She looks like she could go at any time,” Jax said, offering a carrot to Calypso, who took it gently with her velvet muzzle.

  “Sammy the vet was here this week,” Joey said. “She’s predicting probably another week.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on her,” Jax promised.

  “So this is where the party is.” Emma, in stylish gray suede booties, picked her way over the straw-strewn brick to join them in front of Calypso.

  Niko reacted to her the same way a dog offered a treat, eagerly with every fiber of his being focused on that delicious morsel. Shit, he was in serious trouble.

  Emma was dressed for work in sexy black motorcycle pants and a slim fitting black sleeveless shell. Her hair, yet to be pinned back, floated in auburn curls around her face and down past her shoulders. And Niko couldn’t stop staring at her.

  The air in the barn changed as if a weather system had moved in.

  “Don’t step in any shit,” Joey warned Emma with the stern point of her finger.

  Emma glanced down at her shoes and grimaced. “God forbid. I wanted to check in with you about ladies’ night tomorrow.”

  “Is that still on?” Joey frowned.

  Emma sighed and tapped her foot impatiently.

  “Get your head out of your horse’s ass,” Emma smirked. “We’re throwing Phoebe a bachelorette party, and you’re not getting out of it.”

  “I hate being social,” Joey whined.

  “Suck it up and be a big girl. There’ll be a ton of booze.”

  Joey brightened. “Well, I do love my motherin-law. What are you guys doing while we’re partying it up?” she asked Jax.

  “Babysitting all of the little people and playing poker. You in?” he asked Niko. “You’d better be because it’s at Carter’s.”

  Niko laughed. “Count me in. Wait, can we drink while we’re in charge of children?”

  “It’s required,” Emma, Joey, and Jax said in unison.

  “So, then it’s okay if I put you in charge of a couple of desserts since you’re so bad ass with sugar and baked goods?” Emma clarified with Joey.

  “Ugh. Fine. Sure. Just let me know how much I owe you for the…” Joey trailed off and looked at Jax.

  “Entertainment?” Emma filled in.

  “Yeah. That.”

  “Cool. Awesome. Great. Uh, if you two will excuse me, I need to take my husband into the tack room and do some… inventory,” Joey said, curling her fingers into the neck of Jax’s shirt and dragging him down the corridor.

  “Inventory, huh?” Niko said, watching them go.

  “If I start hearing screams of ecstasy, I’m leaving.” Emma wrinkled her nose.

  “You must be feeling better,” Niko said. “I mean, you look better. Not that you ever don’t look good…” Shut up, asshole. Just shut the fuck up. God, he’d turned himself into a gawky teenage loser who was too stupid to live.

  “I assume you couldn’t possibly be referring to the Situation That Shall Not Be Referred To Ever Again, and therefore, I will state for the record that I feel just fine. And I look amazing,” Emma said, tentatively stroking Calypso’s velvety nose.

  “Glad you’re done curling around the toilet in the fetal position,” Niko said, stepping in on her. If he was going to act like a child, he might as well call on playground etiquette and pull some pigtails.

  “If we were talking about it—which we aren’t—I’d say thank you for being so… helpful.” Emma swallowed hard.

  “I feel like you just took my gold star and turned it into a shitty ‘good job, champ.’”

  “I’ll get you a gold star if you promise to never bring this up again,” Emma bargained.

  “Deal.”

  Calypso nudged Emma’s shoulder with her nose. “I’d better get out of here before I’m covered in horse slobber,” she said, taking a step back.

  Niko followed her and reached for her hand. “Hang on a second. I talked to Phoebe today.”

  She turned back to him, dust motes floating on the afternoon sunshine between them. “And?”

  “And I’m shooting the wedding.”

  He didn’t know how badly he’d wanted to say yes to her until Emma was squealing and throwing her arms around his neck. “I knew it! You’re going to be amazing. and they’ll love what you do.”

  She didn’t pull back, and he didn’t move his hands from where they’d settled on her hips.

  “I’m glad you’re happy,” he said huskily.

  “You didn’t say yes just to make me happy, did you?” she accused.

  “Not only for that. Though, at the moment, I’d have to say it was worth it.”

  “Niko.” She unwound her arms from his neck and rested her palms flat on his chest. Yet, she didn’t push him back.

  He tucked a curl behind her ear and let his fingers thread through her fiery hair.

  “What are you doing?” she sighed at his touch.

  “Being friendly.”

  He’d love to capture her like this, in the softly filtered light with the wariness in her sea goddess eyes. His fingers itched for a camera. Emma was urban chic out of place in the quiet, dusty stables. But the desire was more than that. More than wanting to capture a moment, a perfect face. He wanted to experience her with no lens between them, nothing but skin to skin, need to need.

  He could see her pulse flutter wildly at the base of her slim throat and knew that she was affected, too. “What are we doing, Emma?”

  Her lips—so full, so soft—parted, but no answers poured forth. Her eyes were heavy lidded as they looked up at him. Long lashes curling delicately, framing eyes the green of spring meadows. She smelled like sin, all spice and temptation. His blood thrummed through his veins. He was hard, and all he wanted to do was to get closer.

  Testing, Niko pulled her into him using his palms to guide the luscious curve of her hips. He lowered down to her, his lips skimming the sharp line of her jaw. He paused just behind her ear to taste that sensitive skin. She shivered against him, fingers digging into his t-shirt and holding him close. Emma let her head drop back, and Niko took it as an invitation to further explore.

  He knew she could feel how hard she’d made him, yet she didn’t pull away. He felt her heart beat against him as it matched the thud of his own when he dragged his teeth over the flesh of her neck.

  “This is stupid,” she sighed. “We’re making a mistake.”

  But still she stayed, melted against him. Niko shoved his hands into her hair, gripping it.

  “If it is, we’ll have fun making it,” he whispered, his lips lowering with impossible patience toward their goal.

  Something solid shoved him from behind knocking him the last inch into Emma, his teeth gouging her sweet lip.

  “Ow!” she yelped.

  Niko swung around to meet their foe only to be faced with a very pleased with herself Calypso.

  “Did that horse just make you bite me?” Emma gasped, holding her lower lip.

  “Are you okay? Jesus, did I… puncture anything?”

  Emma put her hands up when he made a move toward her. “I think we just proved that was a bad idea.”

  “I think we were doing just fine until someone butted in with her big, fat head,” Niko said, glaring at the horse.

  Emma shook her head. “I’ve got to get to work. I think it’s for the best if we pretend this… situation never happened.” />
  “You can’t pretend to forget about every situation that doesn’t fit into your plan, Emma,” he called after her.

  But she didn’t stop, her heels clicking sharply on the brick floor as she exited the stables.

  Calypso snorted and Niko narrowed his eyes.

  “Cock blocked by a horse. I’m watching you, Calypso.” He pointed two fingers at his own eyes and then back at her.

  The mare gave a sassy toss of her mane and shoved her big, fat head in her feed bin.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Damn, we’re good,” Emma sighed, taking in the transformed first level of the barn. Usually used for organizing Pierce Acres CSA shares, she, Summer, Gia, and Eva had turned the space into a decadent, feminine hideaway.

  Sheer fabrics draped from the rafters and pooled on the floor behind cushions and borrowed furniture. Salt lamps and strings of lights bathed the room in a soft glow. The music was soft and spa-like. Separated from the main space by thick gold curtains, a massage table and candles waited with the shirtless masseuse, Corban, Summer had tempted in from the city. On the opposite end of the room was a mani-pedi station manned by Corban’s cousin Helga, who was not shirtless. White linen tables held bottles of champagne and wine and a heavenly array of snacks and desserts. Monogrammed robes in silky shades of pink hung from a clothesline strung from the rafters.

  “If goddesses hung out, they’d hang out here,” Gia said with a satisfied nod of her head.

  Summer clasped her hands under her chin. “I hope Phoebe loves it!”

  “Do we have to wait for Phoebe before we try the Shirtless Hunk over there?” Eva asked. Her gaze locked on Corban’s perfect pecs.

  “Phoebe gets dibs,” Emma said, giving her sister the eye.

  “Secondsies,” Eva raised her hand.

  Gia slipped her arms around their shoulders. “Both sisters in the same place! I’m so glad you could come up for this, Eva.”

  Eva squeezed back. “I miss you ladies. I’m glad Dad’s giving us an excuse to get together off-holiday.”

  A car pulled up outside, and Emma peeped through the window.

  “Poker person, or Joey with the guest of honor?” Summer hissed.

  “It’s Joey!”

  They scattered to take their places, and when Phoebe was escorted in—with Elvira Eustace at her side—Emma was ready for her with a glass of chilled champagne. Summer draped a Bride sash over Phoebe’s shoulder and Gia settled a sparkly circlet crown on her head.

  “Welcome to your bachelorette party,” Emma said, dropping a kiss on Phoebe’s cheek.

  “Oh, girls! This is just spectacular!”

  Joey beelined for the food table and started loading up a plate, which Summer slapped out of her hand. “Guest of honor first!”

  Joey pouted until she spotted Corban and then admired him like she would a piece of horseflesh. “Not bad, ladies. Not bad.”

  ––—

  The party was a hit, Emma thought with satisfaction.

  Phoebe, in her ivory robe and glittering crown, peeped out from under the cucumber slices on her eyes to reach for her glass of champagne while Helga applied a candy pink polish to her toes.

  Seated on a bejeweled meditation cushion, Joey shoved pie in her face. She’d refused a manicure but had relented on the toes, letting Helga slather a sexy deep purple on the nails. Summer and Gia were enjoying their childless night out with glasses of wine and plates of Joey’s sinful cheesecake brownies. Gia and Elvira—who was piling her salt and pepper curls on her head in preparation for her turn on Corban’s table—chatted about town business both chamber-and gossip-related.

  “I heard a rumor about our Emma here.” Elvira’s gossipy smile drew a collective “oooooh” from the group.

  Emma downed her glass of champagne in one gulp and reached for another. “Niko and I are just friends,” she said firmly.

  “And I was just interviewing Carter,” Summer supplied.

  “And I was just Beckett’s tenant,” Gia said with a shrug.

  “And I could never get past my hate of Jax,” Joey snickered smugly.

  Emma was not impressed.

  “Oh, no dear! You misunderstand.” Elvira shook her head making her ringlets dance. “Of course you’re not dating Nikolai. I was referring to the rumor that you’ve decided to make your move to Blue Moon permanent.”

  Emma felt a swift rush of conflicting feelings. What exactly did Elvira mean by “of course” she wasn’t dating Nikolai?

  “Are you really staying?” Gia demanded. “Please say yes!”

  “I gave myself a year to decide whether or not Blue Moon was a good fit for me, but honestly I can’t imagine leaving.”

  Gia’s fist rose victoriously. “Yes!”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful, dear,” Elvira clasped her hands together. “Now you can start looking for a place of your own.”

  Gia tapped a finger to her chin. “Hmm, if you move out, that means Beckett and I could have a sex cottage instead of getting it on in all the hiding places in the house.”

  “You know what I find interesting is that your mind went straight to Nikolai,” Phoebe told Emma, admiring her newly painted nails.

  “He is gorgeous,” Summer agreed. “I’ve never met a model who wasn’t awestruck just by looking at him.”

  Emma pointed triumphantly. “And that is exactly the reason we’re just friends. He’s a womanizer. A charming one, but I’m in the market for forever, not an incredibly gratifying one-night stand.”

  “People change,” Gia said innocently.

  “No they don’t,” Emma argued. “I’m not going to change my mind, and Niko isn’t going to suddenly become the settling down type. And I don’t care what the Beautification Committee is cooking up. It’s not going to happen.”

  Elvira gave a dainty shrug. “I haven’t heard a peep out of them on the matter. I don’t think you’re even on their radar.”

  Emma frowned into her champagne. Not on their radar? Was it because they recognized a terrible match when they saw one?

  “Don’t worry, Emma. I’m sure once you’re a permanent resident the BC will find some poor schmuck to hook you up with,” Joey said, helping herself to a fresh glass of wine.

  Elvira frowned at Joey and Joey shrugged. “What?” she asked, all innocence.

  Emma pointed with her wine glass. “What’s going on with you two?” she demanded.

  Elvira reached for her bag and pulled out her phone and reading glasses. “Nothing at all, dear. I’m just going to send a quick text.”

  “Sucker,” Joey mouthed at Emma.

  Emma was beyond thankful when everyone moved on from her as a topic. She tried to settle back into the festivity of the night but couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone else knew something that she didn’t. She wondered what the Beautification Committee’s reaction would have been if they had spotted Niko and Emma and their almost-kiss in the barn.

  Annoyed with everyone, including herself, Emma shook it off and decided to forget about it all for the night. She plopped down on a cushion next to Phoebe and Eva followed suit.

  “Phoebe, since you’re about to become our wicked stepmother, I feel like we should know how you and our dad fell in love,” Eva said.

  “Yes, do tell,” Emma agreed, tucking her feet under her.

  Phoebe’s face lit up. She snuggled into her robe, settling in for the story. “Girls, before I begin, I hope you’re not as prudish as my boys are when it comes to my love story.”

  “They don’t approve?” Eva was appropriately horrified.

  “They had a hard time accepting it in the beginning,” Summer said diplomatically. “But to be fair, they didn’t know anything about Franklin until they caught him shimmying off of Phoebe’s porch roof at six o’clock in the morning in his bathrobe.”

  “No!” Emma gasped in disbelief.

  “My boys can be a little…”

  “Overprotective?”

  “Opinionated?”

  �
��Ridiculous?”

  Phoebe’s daughters-in-law all chimed in with suggestions.

  “I was going to go with insane,” Phoebe laughed.

  “Our father was caught sneaking out of your bedroom?” Eva asked, her glee barely contained.

  “His legs were dangling off the roof, and they pulled him down,” Summer recalled.

  Emma tried to imagine her father, the man who’d grounded her when she’d slunk in four minutes after curfew, sneaking half naked out of his lover’s bedroom. Summer and Phoebe gave the blow-by-blow of the event and put them all in tears.

  “I’m never going to let him live that down,” Emma announced, wiping a tear from her eye. “And just look at you two now.”

  Phoebe pinked up. “I never thought I’d have a second time around, let alone one so wonderful.”

  Emma felt her throat tighten with emotion. Seeing her father devastated by her mother’s abandonment had added another layer to the grief and anger she’d felt toward her mother. But watching Phoebe glow as she talked about him as one of the two great loves of her life pulled the pieces of her heart back together just a little tighter. “I’ve never seen my dad so happy,” she offered.

  Phoebe took her hand and squeezed.

  “Your father is a wonderful man.”

  “He’s one of a kind,” Emma agreed.

  “So when did you know that he was the one,” Eva demanded, her eyes bright.

  “Oh,” Phoebe sighed. “It wasn’t a grand gesture or some kind of a climactic finale. He was standing in my kitchen washing my dishes after dinner one night, lecturing me on proper knife care.”

  Emma laughed, knowing well her father’s speech on blade maintenance.

  “That’s it? He was washing dishes, and you were like ‘I can’t live without this man?’” Eva sounded disappointed.

  Phoebe laughed. “It was more like a resounding ‘yes!’ I saw him standing there in my little kitchen, whistling Tosca, and I felt like a truck had hit me. I knew that, no matter what else happened in life, I wanted Franklin by my side for it. We were friends first, not looking for love, and that ended up being the best foundation we could have had.”

  “I changed my mind,” Eva sighed. “That’s incredibly romantic.”