“Considering some of the places I’ve slept?” Colin said with a tight smile. “I’m sure it’s fine. And I’m about to collapse. We can talk more tomorrow,” he said gently at his brother’s slightly let-down expression. “Although don’t be surprised if I sleep until dinnertime. But promise me you won’t tell Mom and Dad I’m here.”
“I won’t.”
“Swear.”
Chuckling, Josh pressed a hand to his heart. “To God. Good enough?”
With a nod, Colin walked to the back door where he’d dumped his stuff; a moment later, he was gone, and Emily turned to her cousin-in-law. Squinting. Josh actually winced.
“Sorry, it kinda slipped out. Then again...” He leaned back against the counter, his palms curled over the edge. “It’s not exactly a secret, is it?”
“No, but...” Emily glanced toward the door, where she could have sworn Colin’s presence still shimmered. Which only proved he hadn’t been the only wiped-out person in the house. “No,” she repeated, giving Josh a little smile, which she transferred to the dog when he came over to nudge her hand with his sopping-wet snout. Then she sniffed, blinking back another round of tears.
“You know you can stay as long as you want,” Josh said, adding, “I mean that,” when Emily lifted watery eyes to his. “You probably have no idea how much Dee talked about you, when she came back after her dad died. About how you saved her sanity after that business with her ex. How you stood by her when your folks...well...”
At that, Emily pushed out a tiny laugh. “Yeah, propriety’s kind of a biggie with them. Mom especially.” Meaning a knocked-up niece hadn’t been part of Margaret Weber’s game plan. Although that was small potatoes compared with her daughter’s society wedding getting the ax weeks before it was supposed to happen. Never mind that it would have been a total sham.
“In any case,” Josh continued, “after everything you did for Dee, anything we can do to return the favor—”
“Thanks. But...”
Her cousin’s husband grinned. “What?”
Emily sighed. In the rush of adrenaline that had followed in the wake of discovering Michael’s secret, her fight-or-flight impulse had kicked in, big-time. And since fighting had felt like an exercise in futility, she’d chosen flight...as far from Michael and her mother and all those gasps and clacking tongues in McLean, Virginia, as she could get. And where else but to the place that had been a balm to her soul the few times she’d been here as a kid? And where the only person who could effortlessly toggle between being a nonjudgmental sounding board and understanding when Emily needed space lived?
However, now that the adrenaline was subsiding, it occurred to her that this was a newly married couple...a newly married couple with two young children between them, who probably cherished their alone time when said children were asleep. So the last thing they probably wanted, or needed, was some emotionally volatile chick invading their space.
“You guys have to promise me,” she said to Josh’s bemused expression, “you’ll let me know the minute you feel I’m cramping your style.”
At that, Josh laughed out loud. “We live with a four-year-old and an infant. Cramped is our style. As it will be for many years to come, I expect. Although at least you can get your own glass of water if you wake up in the middle of the night. You can, right?”
Emily chuckled. “Not only that, I can even make my own breakfast.”
“Then there ya go.” Josh leaned over to give her shoulder a quick squeeze. “In case you missed it, we’re kinda big on family around here. So not another word, you hear?”
Her eyes burning again, Emily nodded. And this time, not because she was worn-out. Not even because of her own foolishness, letting herself get caught up in a fairy tale that now lay shattered in a million pieces at the bottom of her soul. That had been just plain stupid. Even so, she had no doubt she’d eventually recover. And be stronger for the experience, if not a whole lot wiser. So out of the ashes and all that.
But what yanked at her heart now was the sudden and profound realization of what had been missing from her life to this point, or at least not nearly as much in evidence as it should have been:
The good old Golden Rule, treating others the way you’d want to be treated. At least, as far as being on the receiving end of it went. All her life, it now occurred to her, she’d tried so hard to do what was expected of her, to not make waves. A lot in life she’d been fine with, for the most part. So sue her, she liked making people happy. But how often had anyone else ever done that for her? Other than Dee, that was, who’d come to live with Emily and her parents shortly after her mother died, when they were teenagers.
Now Emily looked at the kind, wonderful man her cousin had married, feeling overwhelmingly grateful for Deanna’s happiness...and even more acutely aware of how badly she’d been screwed. And as her cousin joined them in the kitchen, one arm slipping around her husband’s waist, resolve flooded Emily, that the next time—if there even was a next time—either the dude would look at her the way Josh looked at Dee or fuggedaboutit. Because God knew Michael had never looked at her like that, had he? And look how that had turned out.
“She asleep?” Josh asked Dee, who spiked a hand through her short dark hair. Almost chin length now, grown out from the edgier style she’d worn when she worked at that art gallery in DC. Roots were showing, too, a burnished glimmer against the black ends.
“Out like a light,” Dee said, yawning as she leaned into Josh. Again, envy spiked through Emily, at how comfortable they were with each other. How much in love. Which was what came, Emily supposed, from their having been friends first, when they’d been kids and Josh’s father had worked for Dee’s. But between that and the trip and the events leading to the trip and the weirdness with Colin, Emily suddenly felt used up.
“If you guys don’t mind,” she said, “I think I’m going to turn in. It’s been a long day.”
“I’m sure,” Dee said, slipping out of the shelter of her husband’s embrace to wrap her arms around Emily, hold her close for a long moment. “We’ll talk tomorrow. If you want.”
“I’m sure I will,” Emily said, then left the kitchen, letting the silence in the long, clay-tiled hall leading to the bedroom wing enfold her. Even with the updates to the house from when Dee and Josh thought they’d sell it after Uncle Granville’s death, the place hadn’t changed much from what she remembered from childhood. But the century-old hacienda, with its troweled walls and beamed ceilings, seemed good with that, like an old woman who saw no need to adopt the latest fashion craze simply because it was the latest thing.
A giant gray cat, curled on the folded-up quilt on the foot of the guest room’s double bed, blinked sleepily at her when she turned on the nightstand’s lamp. No one seemed to know how old Smoky was, or how he’d even come to live here—like a ghost whose presence was simply accepted.
“Hey, guy,” she said, plopping her smaller bag onto the mattress, chuckling at his glower because she’d disturbed his nap. Not to mention his space, since he’d clearly staked a claim on the room in her absence. “We gonna be roomies for the next little while?”
The cat yawned, then meowed before hauling himself to his feet and plodding across the bed to bump her hand as she tugged a pair of pajamas from the case and zipped it back up. Unpacking would come later, a thought that hurt her chest. Not because she was here, but because of why she was here—
Dee’s quiet knock on her open bedroom door made Emily start. Her cousin had changed into a loose camisole top, a pair of don’t-give-a-damn drawstring bottoms and a baggy plaid robe that definitely gave off a masculine vibe.
“Need anything?”
“A new life?”
With a snort, her cousin came over to sit on the edge of the bed, which the cat took as an invitation to commandeer her lap. “I know I said tomorrow,” she said as Emi
ly unceremoniously disrobed, tugged on the pajamas. Unlike her relationships with nearly everybody else in her life, she and Dee had no secrets between them. “But... I’m so sorry, Em.”
Emily crawled up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged to face Dee like she used to when they were kids. The cat immediately changed loyalties, flicking his poofy tail across Emily’s chin before settling in, rumbling like a dishwasher. Smiling, she stroked his staticky fur.
“Better now than later, right?”
Her cousin blew a half laugh through her nose. “At least you’re not pregnant,” she muttered, then frowned. “You’re not, are you?”
It was everything Emily could do not to laugh herself at the absurdity of her cousin’s perfectly reasonable question. Especially since the sweet baby girl down the hall wasn’t Josh’s, but the result of Dee’s affair—well before she moved back to New Mexico and reconnected with Josh, whom she hadn’t seen since she was a teenager—with a man who’d neglected to mention he already had three children. And a wife. A thought that immediately displaced Emily’s inappropriate spike of amusement with anger, at how both she and her cousin had been played for fools by a pair of scumbags who mistook agreeableness for weakness.
Or stupidity.
“What do you think?” she said, and her cousin’s mouth twisted.
“Oh. Right. Although sometimes—”
“Not in this case. Although I suppose I should see about having the IUD removed now. Since...” She shrugged, and Dee’s eyes went soft.
“Since it’s completely over between you and Michael?”
“Yeah,” Emily said on a sigh.
“Well...” Dee grinned. “Before you do, who’s to say you couldn’t have some good old-fashioned revenge sex?”
Now Emily did laugh. Ridiculous though the suggestion was. Towns this small weren’t exactly rife with prospects. Which right now was a major selling point, actually, what with her recent self-diagnosis of acute testosterone intolerance. “With...?”
Her cousin’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sure we can scrounge up someone who isn’t toothless and/or on Social Security.”
“Meaning Colin,” Emily deadpanned, and Dee’s eyebrows nearly flew off her head.
“The thought never even entered my head.”
“Right.”
“You’ve gotta admit, he does clean up nice.” Emily glared. For many reasons. Then her cousin leaned forward to wrap her hand around hers. “You do know I’m kidding, right?”
“I’m never sure with you.”
“Good point,” Dee said, the twinkle once again flashing. “But while I do find it serendipitous—”
“Ooh, big word.”
“—that the two of you showed up together, and he is a hunk—because clearly the Talbots don’t know how to make ’em any other way—it’s also pretty obvious he’s no more in the market for fun and games than you are.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that impression, too. But what did he say? To Josh?”
“It’s more what he didn’t say, I think. Obviously the man is all about keeping to himself. Even more than most men are,” she said, and Emily thought, Tell me about it. “But he indicated to Josh he just needed a break. And that it’d been too long since he’d been home. Especially since so much has happened since then. Weddings and whatnot.”
“You think he’ll stick around for Zach and Mallory’s?”
“Who knows? I get the feeling Colin’s not big on plans. Or commitments.” Dee cocked her head. “And what’s with that look?”
Emily punched out a sound that was equal parts laugh and sigh. “That would be me overthinking things I have no business thinking about at all. Especially since I clearly have no talent whatsoever when it comes to guessing what’s going on inside someone’s head. I mean, really—I knew Michael for how many years? And still...” She shook her head. “So presuming anything about some man I’ve known for a few hours—and half of that he’s either been comatose or not around...”
“Em.” Dee looked almost exasperated. “First off, there’s a huge difference between some dirtwad who’s deliberately trying to keep you in the dark and a guy who’s simply not big on sharing. With anybody, apparently. Even his brothers barely know him, for reasons known only to Colin. So if you think Colin’s got some serious issues—believe me, you’re not alone. In fact, Josh said the same thing. Only I think—” she squeezed Emily’s hand “—that you’ve got enough junk of your own to work through right now without worrying about someone you don’t even know. Because secondly, you’re too damn kindhearted. Always have been. Which is probably...” She bit her lip, and Emily rolled her eyes.
“Go on, spit it out. Which is why I’m in this mess, right?”
“Seeing the best in people is what you do,” Dee said gently. “Who you are. And I wouldn’t change that, or you, for the world. So don’t even go there, you hear me? But it does have its downside.”
“In other words I need to toughen up.”
“Says the woman who teaches kindergartners,” Dee said on a short laugh. “You’re plenty tough, babycakes. But I think...” Her cousin paused, her eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without a boyfriend? A month? Two?”
Emily started. “I...I don’t know. I never really thought about it—”
“Because you’ve never been alone long enough to think about it. And then you reconnected with Michael at that thing at the club, and everyone—his parents, your parents—were all ooh, perfect, and...”
“And I fell right into everyone’s expectations.”
Her cousin’s smile was kind. “Especially Aunt Margaret’s.”
Considering her mother’s apoplectic fit when the wedding was called off? Truth. But...
“You never really liked Michael, did you?”
Dee reached over to stroke the cat. “I never really trusted him. Gut reaction, sorry. But at first I figured it would probably peter out, so why say anything? Especially since nobody made me God. Then you guys got engaged, and... I don’t know. Something felt off. Except then I got involved with Phillippe, and, well. Considering how that turned out, I didn’t exactly have room to talk, did I? And by then you were deep into wedding-planning fever...” She shrugged, then gave her cousin a little smile.
“You could’ve still said something.”
Her cousin snorted. “And would you have listened? Or taken my ‘feelings’ as sour grapes because my own relationship had ended so badly? In fact,” she said before Emily could answer, “I wasn’t all that sure myself I could be objective. Because at that point I pretty much hated anything with a penis.”
Clapping a hand to her mouth, Emily unsuccessfully smothered her guffaw. Then she lowered it, still chuckling, only to release another breath. “I can relate, believe me.”
“Seriously.”
Emily’s eyes burned. “You know what’s really sad? At this point I don’t even know if I was really happy—before the truth came out—or just thought I was.”
“Sing it, honey,” Dee sighed. “But the good news is, at least we grow. Our hearts get shattered and then we get mad and then we get to work. Which doesn’t in the least absolve the creeps of their creepiness. But we gain so much more from the experience than we lose.”
“How...adult of you.”
“I know, right?” Grinning, Dee levered herself off the bed, tugging her robe closed in the desert chill. “You’re gonna be fine, Em. You are fine. And you know what else?”
“What?”
Her cousin’s gaze softened again. “You’re free,” she said, bending over to kiss Emily’s hair before padding out of the room.
For several seconds after, Emily sat on the bed, stroking the cat who’d returned to smash himself up beside her, his purr comforting and warm.
You’re free...
<
br /> Her eyes watered as the words played over and over in her head. Because for the first time that she could remember...she was, wasn’t she? Free from anyone else’s expectations, like Dee said. Or judgment, or censure. Free to finally figure out who she was, what she wanted.
More to the point, what she didn’t.
True, she’d come for the space. Absolutely. But not to escape. Instead, for the space to claim for herself everything that was rightfully hers.
Including, she realized, the luxury of being herself.
Of being able to do exactly as she pleased without worrying, or even caring, about what anybody else thought.
The headiness almost made her dizzy.
* * *
The next morning, Colin sat outside his parents’ little house in town, trying to get his bearings before facing them. It didn’t help that, despite his exhaustion—or maybe because of it—he hadn’t slept worth spit the night before. Didn’t help that Emily kept popping into his head, although he assumed that was because she reminded him a touch of Sarah. A touch. The long hair, maybe. Her...freshness. That guileless, direct gaze that revealed more than she probably realized.
More than he could possibly handle. Especially after Sarah.
Especially now.
Releasing a breath, Colin got out of the rental and headed toward the house, shrugging into a denim jacket older than God as he sidestepped the same dinged pickup his mom had been driving for years. The impossibly blue sky framed the small brown house, squat and unassuming behind the huge lilac bushes beginning to leaf out beside the front door, the half dozen whiskey barrels choked with mounds of shivering pansies.
Falling for the Rebound Bride Page 3