“What about the other idiot in your life?” Noah glanced over at her.
“Jase isn’t in my life.” She paused, then whispered, “and he’s not an idiot.”
“You haven’t talked to him?”
“You know I haven’t, Noah.” She’d asked April to go to his office the morning after the meeting to give him Emily’s resignation letter. Maybe she should have been brave enough to face him, but the humiliation she’d felt after that night had been too raw.
“Why?”
“There’s nothing to say. We want different things.” She kept waiting for the pain to ease, the vise around her heart to release. Every time she thought of Jase, her whole body reverberated with the deep ache of missing him. “I hear the election is going well.” She’d tried not to hear, not to listen but it was difficult in a small town where people were happy to pass around gossip like it was breaking news.
Noah nodded. “Hard to believe the stunt his dad pulled at the town hall meeting actually helped him in the campaign.”
“Not hard with Jase.”
“Everyone is talking about how much he’s overcome and how he’s a self-made success.”
“He deserves every bit of his success,” Emily said quietly. The Thompsons’ plan to discredit Jase in the eyes of voters had backfired. She wasn’t the only one who’d seen Aaron as he sent Declan into the town hall meeting. Apparently, Charles had a reputation of bending the rules while he’d been sheriff and no one wanted a man with a twisted moral compass in charge of the town.
“You missed the turn.” She straightened in her seat as Noah took a right toward Crimson High School.
“I have a quick stop to make.”
“What stop?”
He pulled over to the curb at the edge of the football field. “I’ll show you. Hop out.”
There were a few teenagers throwing a ball on the field but the stands were empty.
“Do you see it?”
She climbed out of the truck, scanning the bleachers for something familiar. “See what, Noah?”
The truck’s engine roared to life and she whirled around. Noah had rolled down the passenger window. “See me making you really angry.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
He grimaced. “According to my new wife. I hope you’ll forgive me, and I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“What are you talking about?”
Noah blew her a kiss and drove off, leaving Emily standing on the sidewalk. She didn’t even have her phone. “I’m going to kill him,” she muttered.
“It’s not his fault,” a voice said behind her. She went stock-still even as her knees threatened to sag. “He owed me for something and I called in the favor. He didn’t have a choice.”
She turned to face Jase, letting anger rise to the top of the mountain of emotions vying for space in her heart. “Of course he had a choice,” she said on a hiss of breath. “The same way I have a choice as to which one of you I’m going to murder first.”
He took a step toward her and she backed up. “Don’t come any closer.”
“We need to talk.”
She shook her head. What she needed was to get the hell out of there before she gave in to the temptation to plaster herself against him. “No. We don’t.”
“I need to talk,” he clarified.
“Talk to someone who wants to listen to what you have to say.”
He ran his hands through his hair, looking as miserable as she felt. “Don’t you understand? I only ever cared about you. From the start, Emily.”
She closed her eyes and stuck her fingers in her ears, repeating the words I can’t hear you in a singsong voice.
His hands were on her arms a moment later. She flinched away but secretly wanted to melt into him. She’d missed his warmth. Missed the scent of him, pine and soap and man. Missed everything about him.
“Open your eyes,” he said, his tone an irresistible mix of amusement and desperation.
She did, keeping her gaze trained on the football field. Davey would like the symmetry of the lines dissecting the green grass.
“This was where I fell in love with you the first time,” Jase whispered, following her gaze. “Every weekend you were at the football games, surrounded by a group of friends. You took great pleasure in ignoring me.”
“You were my older brother’s best friend. I had no use for you.” She glanced back at him and her heart skipped a beat. He was watching her as if it was the first time he’d seen her. As if she really was the only thing he cared about in life.
“And still I was ruined for any other girl.” His fingers brushed her hair away from her face. “I remember you on those cool fall nights, bundled up in sweaters and boots, your blond hair like a calling card as you held court in the bleachers. You were the most perfect girl I’d ever seen.”
She took a step back, out of his grasp and tried to get a handle on her emotions. “I was a brat.”
“I didn’t care.” His chocolate-brown gaze never wavered as he spoke.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you need to understand it was always you, Em. You were the first and only thing I ever wanted.” He flashed a wry smile and toed his boot against the gravel. “Back then it was because you embodied the perfection that was never a part of my life.”
“I wasn’t perfect and—”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “Then you returned and I got a chance to make you happy. No, you’re not perfect. Neither am I. But real is better than perfect.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and the scratch of his stubble made her melt. Just a little. “I messed up, and I’m sorry. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. I let the shame I felt about my own family change me.”
“I understand.”
“How can you understand when I don’t?” He shook his head. “There’s no excuse, Emily. I love that boy. Hell, I found myself putting together a Lego town the other night with the bin of blocks you left at the house. I miss him. I miss you.”
“I understand life is messy. I wanted it to be put in easy compartments. Even Davey, especially Davey.”
“You came here to protect him. I get it.”
She shook her head. “I came here to hide. Henry wasn’t the only one who failed him. Mothers have dreams for their kids. To-the-moon whoppers like, Will he grow up to be President? And the dreams that really mattered. Will he have friends? Will he be happy? I felt like I lost control of those the first time I noticed Davey’s differences.”
He stared at her, patiently waiting as always.
“I want to live life celebrating who he is.”
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any more painful, Jase ripped open another layer of her heart. “I want that, too, Em. I love you both so much.”
And another layer. “I’m pulling out of the mayor’s race.”
“No,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t.”
“I have a meeting with the council later this afternoon to officially withdraw my name.”
“But you’re going to win. Charles Thompson—”
“The reasons Charles is running for mayor are as convoluted as mine.” The half smile he gave her was weary and strained. A different type of heartache roared through her knowing his distress was her fault. Jase had helped her regain her confidence and spirit, and she’d repaid him by allowing her fears to bring both of them low.
“Your reasons aren’t convoluted.” She moved to him th
en, put a hand on his arm. “You are straightforward and selfless. You’ve done so much already—”
“Trust me, I know what it’s like to have fear rule your life. No matter how much I do, I’m scared it isn’t enough to make amends for all the mistakes. I worry I’ll never be enough.”
“Those mistakes weren’t yours, but the choice to make a different future for yourself has been.” He was standing before her, willing to give up everything he’d built in this town. His whole life. The searing thought that this was exactly what her ex-husband had expected of her almost brought her to her knees.
“My mother contacted me,” he said softly. “Her letter is what made Dad drink again.”
“Oh, Jase.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “She’s sick, and she wants to see me. After so many years, she apologized for leaving.”
“You deserve that.”
He trailed his fingers over hers, his touch sending shivers of awareness across her skin. “I want to deserve you, Em. We deserve happiness. Together. Give me another chance to prove how much you mean to me. How much I love you.”
She pressed a hand to her chest as if she could quell the pounding of her heart. He was willing to give her exactly what she’d wanted from Henry, but it was so wrong. She loved him for his dedication and sense of duty, for the very rightness of who he was. She couldn’t allow loving her to destroy his dream. “You can’t give up the campaign, Jase.”
“I will if it means a chance with you.”
“It isn’t... You don’t...” She took a breath, trying to give her words time to catch up with her racing thoughts. “I wanted to make my life manageable again, but love isn’t manageable and neither is everything that comes with it. Life is messy. If I hide from the pain, I risk never having the love. So I’m going to stop hiding. I love Davey the way he is—”
“Me, too,” he whispered, his voice raw.
“I know.” She reached up, cupped his face with her hands. “You must know you’re already enough for the people in this town. For me. You’re the one who has to believe it now. I want to support you, even when it’s a struggle. We’ll find a way. I may not be the perfect politician’s wife but—”
“I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you, all of you. Your bossiness and your skyscraper-tall defensive walls—”
“Hey.” She poked him in the chest.
“I want the way you love Davey so fiercely, the way you bullied me into stepping into my own life.” He lifted a hand to trail it across her jaw. “I want you when you’re fragile and vulnerable, when you’re strong and stubborn. I want Davey and a house full of Lego creations.” He dipped his head so they were at eye level. “I want you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“You’re going to win this election, Jase.” She felt tears slip down her cheeks. “You are the best thing I never expected to happen in my life.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips across his. “How did I miss seeing you for so long?”
“The only thing that matters is we’re here now.” He lifted her into his embrace. “Tell me you’ll give us another chance.”
She laughed. “A thousand chances, Jase. Because if you take me on, it’s going to be for good.”
“For good and forever,” he agreed. “Be mine forever.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Forever.”
He took over the kiss, making it at once tender and fully possessive. Emily lost herself in the moment, in the feel of him and the happiness bubbling up inside her like a newly unearthed spring.
A honking horn had her jerking away a moment later.
“Get a room,” Noah called as he slowed the truck. He grinned at her. “I hope this means you’re not mad at me.”
“I’m not mad,” she called. “But you’re still in trouble.”
His gaze flicked to Jase. “Are you going to help me with her?”
Emily growled as Jase laughed. “I wouldn’t be dumb enough to try.”
Emily patted him on the shoulder. “Which is why you get a thousand chances.” She pointed at her brother. “You get none.”
He blew her a kiss and she couldn’t stop her smile.
“Are we still going apartment hunting?” Noah asked.
“She’s got a home,” Jase answered. “With me.”
“And I get to pick the paint colors?” Emily asked, raising a brow.
“You get to do whatever you want.”
She kissed him again. “What I want is to spend the rest of my life with you.” She felt color rise to her cheeks, realizing she’d said too much too soon.
Jase only smiled. “I’ve only been waiting most of my life,” he said, dropping to one knee and pulling a small velvet box out of his jacket pocket. “Emily, will you marry me?”
She swallowed, struggled to take a breath and nodded. He slipped the ring on her finger and stood to take her in his arms once more.
“Katie is going to be so mad she missed this moment,” she heard her brother yell. “Good thing I got the whole event on video. Congratulations, you two crazy kids.” Noah honked once more, then drove out of the parking lot.
“I love you, Em,” Jase whispered. “Forever.”
“Forever,” she repeated and felt her heart fill with all the happiness it could carry.
* * * * *
Look for CHRISTMAS ON CRIMSON MOUNTAIN, the next book in Michelle Major’s CRIMSON, COLORADO miniseries coming soon.
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE DOCTOR’S RUNAWAY FIANCÉE by Cindy Kirk.
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The Doctor's Runaway Fiancée
by Cindy Kirk
Chapter One
Sylvie Thorne gazed into the beauty-shop mirror and forced herself to breathe. Seven seconds in, then out for eleven. Almost immediately, the panic ebbed.
Two hours earlier she’d given Cassidy Duggan, ow
ner of the Clippety Do Dah Salon, free rein to cut and color her hair. While Cassidy was as nontraditional with hair as Sylvie was in cake designs, there was no better stylist in Jackson Hole.
“What do you think?” Cassidy fussed with a stray strand of hair and smiled expectantly.
“I look...different.” An understatement to be sure, but the best Sylvie could muster.
As she continued to study the unfamiliar reflection, Sylvie reminded herself she was the one who’d asked for a change. She’d grown bored with the hairstyle she’d had since high school. The upcoming wedding of a friend had been the gentle shove she’d needed to try something different.
Two hours ago she’d walked in with wavy copper-colored hair hanging in loose curls halfway down her back and put herself in Cassidy’s experienced hands.
“Sleek and sophisticated.” Daffodil Prentiss, the hairstylist from the next booth, punctuated her proclamation with an approving nod.
Sleek and sophisticated.
While those two words were rarely tossed in her direction, Sylvie cocked her head and opened her mind. “I like it.”
The waves had been straightened and the blunt cut hair now barely reached her shoulders. The muted copper strands, while still the predominant color, had been replaced at the ends by several inches of soft honey blond.
“Are you sure?” Cassidy asked, apparently troubled by her less-than-enthusiastic response. “If you don’t like it, I can—”
“Exactly what I wanted.” Sylvie spoke more decisively this time. “And the change I was looking for.”
“I didn’t want to go too crazy.” Cassidy tapped a finger against her bright red lips. “If you get home and decide this isn’t enough of a change, we could try some cerulean blue. I think the color would make those violet eyes of yours really pop.”
“No blue needed.” Sylvie spoke quickly. “This is perfect.”
Because of the nontraditional bakery products produced in her Mad Batter kitchen and the boho-chic styles she preferred to wear, Sylvie was aware many saw her as “quirky.”
Always the Best Man Page 18