Falling for the Rebound Bride

by Karen Templeton

  “You’d fall for this insanely good, and good-looking, man who’s the diametric opposite of the schmuck who screwed you over? No, I bet you never saw that coming.” At Emily’s pathetic little laugh, Dee said, “So what do you want to do?”

  “Besides eat that cheesecake, you mean? What can I do? Colin doesn’t feel... He doesn’t want what I do, Dee. Family, home.” Her mouth pulled flat. “A quiet life. And he especially doesn’t want any of that here.”

  “And you’re sure about that?”

  “I can only go by what the man said.”

  Except...deep down, she suspected he did want those things. Even if he hadn’t figured out how to make the pieces fit.

  Or how to handle whatever the fear was that made him believe he didn’t.

  Letting her head drop back onto the buttery, cushioned leather, Emily blew a breath toward the beamed ceiling. “It’s crazy, how up until a few weeks ago I hadn’t fully realized how much I was living someone else’s life. Being who other people wanted me to be. Other than my teaching, I mean. Aside from that...” Her head rolled sideways, her gaze meeting her cousin’s. “It was almost as if I’d made a bargain of sorts, with my parents—‘Let me do this, and I’ll give you everything else. Give you myself.’ Then, with Michael, I even gave up teaching. In exchange for the family I thought I was going to have. But it was all a crock, wasn’t it? An illusion.”

  A tight smile pushed at her mouth when she felt Dee’s hand fold around hers. “So I came out here to figure out who I really was. What I really wanted. Instead I found...” She almost laughed. “The real version of everything I thought I already had. Who I already was. So here I am, finally living what feels like a truly genuine life, my life, someplace that finally feels like home...”

  Emily pushed herself off the couch to close the French doors before they froze to death, only to stand facing outside, still grasping the door handles. “Not gonna lie, right now it’s tempting—so tempting—to revert to that obedient little girl who’d do whatever it took to make someone like me. Accept me.” She faced her cousin again, sitting backward on the sofa, sympathy shining in her eyes. “To suck it up, to give up what I’ve only just found in order to be whoever Colin might need me to be. Even though I know that’s not even possible. But giving him up...it hurts, Dee. Oh, God, it hurts.”

  “More than Michael?”

  “God, yes,” she said on an ugly laugh. “As crazy as that sounds. But for one thing, I know Colin wouldn’t let me do that. Any more than I’d expect him to change who he is, or not follow his path, for me. Because...” Her eyes stinging, she shook her head. “Finding the right person doesn’t mean losing yourself. Or shouldn’t, anyway. Something that’s taken me twenty-seven years to figure out. Damned if I’m going to throw all that away now. But honestly—to finally find someone who actually gives a damn about what I think, how I feel, what I need to be, only to realize...” Emily pressed a hand to her mouth, then dropped it again. “Only to realize we want different things...man, that sucks.”

  Her own eyes brimming, Dee got up to pull Emily into her arms, the second time that evening someone Emily loved with all her heart had hugged her.

  But whoever said hugs were always comforting was talking out of their butt.

  * * *

  “The thing is, dog... I know I’m doing the right thing.”

  The puppy sat in front of him on the floor, head cocked. Damn, he was gonna miss the little turkey. But—

  “Because the sooner I leave, the faster Emily’ll get over me and get on with her new life.” A life, from the sound of things, she’d chosen for herself for once. “Right?”

  The pup yipped, then bounced over to crawl into his lap and start gnawing on his fingers. And of course Colin immediately thought of the dog’s doing the same thing to Emily, of her grins and giggles when he did, of how she didn’t care one whit about puppy slobber on her face.

  And he was here in the living room instead of in the bedroom, packing, because it still smelled of her in there. Felt like her. And, yes, he went ahead and tormented himself with thinking about how a couple hours ago he’d been inside her, feeling her pulse around him, hearing her soft cries in his ears, then that damned laughter when it was over, so fricking pleased with herself.

  With him.

  About how perfect sex wasn’t about crazy-ass contortions that only left you with pulled muscles, anyway—it was about being with the right person.

  No matter how wrong she was. You know, from a logical perspective.

  The pup yipped again, then squirmed around to flip upside down in Colin’s lap, showing off his spotted tummy.

  “You’re right, I’m an idiot—”

  At the tentative knock on his door, his stomach lurched. Not his brother’s knock, that was for sure, since Josh was more of a pounder than a rapper. But if it was Emily...

  He’d deal. Somehow.

  Shoving himself to his feet, he crossed the room, taking care not to step on the dancing dog who clearly thought he was playing. He hauled in a breath, plastered on a neutral expression and opened the door.

  “We need to talk,” Emily’s mother said, then pushed her way inside.

  Chapter Eleven

  Because his psyche hadn’t been battered enough. Got it.

  “About—?” Colin said, slugging his hands in his pockets and slapping on a neutral expression. He hoped.

  “Is there somewhere you can put the dog?” Margaret asked, scowling down at the pup. Who was bowing before her, butt in the air, tail a blur.

  “You allergic?”

  “No, but...” Eyes nearly the same color as Emily’s, but colder, harder, met his. “But he’s—”

  “A dog. Who’ll probably pass out in a minute, not to worry.”

  Her gaze still fixed on the pup, Emily’s mother pushed her chin-length hair behind her ear. And smiled. Not a warm, boundless grin, like her daughter would give. But the corners of her mouth definitely turned up. “A little undisciplined for my taste,” she said, more to herself than him, Colin suspected. “But cute. I don’t suppose you have any tea?”

  “Yes. Which I have no compunction about holding hostage until you tell me why you’re here.”

  That actually got a laugh. “You drive a hard bargain,” she said, which was when Colin realized a Southern accent soft-edged her words. The pup attacked the toe of what was probably a very expensive flat shoe. In a single move, the woman bent over to gather him into her arms, where he promptly snuggled in and went to sleep. Huh. “My daughter doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “Didn’t figure she did.”

  “And you’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?”

  Colin crossed his arms. “Out of deference to not only my parents, but your daughter, I’ll try not to be rude. But my loyalty is to Emily. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

  A long, harsh intake of breath preceded, “That girl’s already had her heart broken once this year. The thought of it happening again, especially so soon after the first time, breaks mine. In spite of whatever it is you might think about me, and/or my relationship with my daughter.”

  The woman had been in his space less than five minutes and had already surprised him three times. Not that he was about to let her know that.

  “And your point is?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, young man—please do not play the fool with me. Emily’s obviously in love with you. Only she seems convinced the two of you can’t work it out.”

  A long moment passed before, deciding she’d earned her tea, Colin yanked his gaze from hers and went into the kitchen to pull out assorted boxes of tea bags. Placing them on the counter between the two rooms, he indicated for Emily’s mother to make her choice. A moment passed before she pointed to what she apparently deemed the least offensive, then s
et down the puppy before hiking herself onto a stool on the living room side to watch Colin as he poured water into a mug, set it in the microwave.

  “So what I’ve gathered thus far,” he said as the microwave whirred behind him, “is that you’re worried I’ll break your daughter’s heart. Although whether because you’re afraid I’ll stay or leave I haven’t quite worked out yet. Let alone what you’d like me to do to remedy the situation.”

  “Can you even do that?”

  He felt his mouth tuck up on one side. “Assuage your guilt about what happened before, you mean?”

  “You sure don’t pull any punches, do you?”

  “Not if I can help it.” The microwave dinged; he pulled out the steaming mug, dunking the bag into it before setting it in front of the woman, along with a sugar bowl. She looked at it like he’d offered her arsenic.

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure why I’m here. Let alone what I expect, or want, the outcome to be. All I know is there’s been far too little truth telling in this family over the last thirty years. And when I overheard Emily talking to her cousin a little while ago... I guess I didn’t fully realize how much damage her father and I had done. Not that we meant to—we both love her, I swear—but sometimes when parents are so focused on what they think is best for their child, they totally miss what the child really wants. And needs. Especially when...” Staring at her tea, Margaret huffed a sigh. “When the parents have royally screwed up their own lives. Of course the irony is, the more things go wrong, the more you think you can fix them by repeating the same mistakes.”

  She finally lifted the mug, only to set it down again without tasting the tea. “I want to think Emily’s fascination with being out here stems from her being unhappy with, well, all sorts of things, I suppose. Things I don’t think she even knew she was unhappy with until this craziness with Michael. But now it occurs to me, she was living a lie, wasn’t she? A lie her father and I perpetuated, all in the name of appearances. So what I’m saying is...she’s vulnerable. A lot more vulnerable than I realized. And I should’ve done more, to protect her, to keep her from...”

  Her mouth clamped shut, Margaret lifted her tea again. Although more to hide behind the mug than to take a drink, Colin suspected.

  “To keep her from making the same mistake you believe your sister did.”

  The woman’s eyes shot to his. “What do you know about that?”

  “Only what Deanna told me. About how upset you were when Deanna’s mother married her father, made her home out here—”

  “Away from her real life, yes. It killed her, you know. Or maybe you don’t.”

  He knew enough, although Deanna hadn’t been specific. But what it boiled down to was that Deanna’s mother had made a choice her sister couldn’t reconcile herself to. Emily’s mother had then subsequently woven her own story about her sister’s death to suit her own prejudices.

  “From what little I know, I think it’s safe to say your daughter’s not your sister.”

  “Be that as it may, she’s not thinking clearly. Obviously. Whether Michael—” She took a deep breath. “Whether he was right for her or not, three years is a big chunk of your life when you’re that young. His cheating on her...” To his surprise, the older woman’s eyes watered. “Emily’s not like me. She has different...expectations. And she’s still so young, as I said—”

  “She’s not a child, Mrs. Weber. And pardon me for saying this, but I find it very strange that you want so much to protect her when you threw her into that situation to begin with. How does that work, exactly?”

  Her face colored, but give the woman props for standing her ground. “I’m not saying her father and I didn’t make mistakes. Which is why I’m trying to head this one off at the pass now—”

  “There’s nothing to head off. There never was. While I’m hardly going to get specific about...things between Emily and me, we both knew going in exactly what the expectations were. Or weren’t. Trust me, I didn’t seduce her. Or make promises I had no intention of keeping. I was at least honest. And I’d put out my own eye before treating her like the man you picked for her did. My mistake...” Colin sucked in a breath. “My mistake was in not realizing how vulnerable we both were. And I cannot tell you how sorry I am for that. Especially since...since I care very deeply for your daughter. About her. And because I care, I wouldn’t dream of quashing her dreams. Or putting her in a situation that would only make her unhappy down the road.”

  “Exactly what she said you’d say,” Margaret said.

  And hell, yeah, that hurt, for a whole mess of reasons. Not the least of which was how well Emily knew him, even after such a short time. “The point is, whether you came over here to warn me off, or somehow fix things between me and Emily...” His head wagged. “The first is moot, and the second isn’t up to you. And never would be. Because nobody can make things work for someone else simply because they want them to. No matter what the motive. The fact is, Emily and I want different things. Need different things. And we’re both mature enough to see that. Right now. Before we make any more mistakes than have already been made.”

  Margaret’s eyes narrowed slightly. “One question—do you love her?”

  Speaking of not pulling punches. “If I didn’t,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t be leaving tomorrow.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “I’m going to say yes.” Then he crossed his arms. “But my question to you is...what do you really want for her? Not for yourself. For her?”

  Emily’s mother slid off the stool, leaving her tea mostly undrunk. Her eyes welled again. “Happiness. That’s all. Just...happiness.”

  “Then we’re on the same page,” Colin said, even as it felt like a knife was twisting in his gut. “Obviously you know your daughter a helluva lot better than I do, long-term. But you haven’t been around her in the last few weeks, haven’t seen...” He swallowed. “The way she smiles now...it’s nothing like when she first got here. Like...like she’s whole, finally. And finally herself. You really want her to be happy? Then trust that she’ll figure out whatever she needs to figure out, in her own good time. Even if that’s in some dinky little Southwest town.”

  “Which my niece hated. Which I gather you were pretty keen to leave, too—”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Deanna seems pretty content here these days, don’t you think? And my reasons for leaving back then...” His mouth pushed up at the corners. “Oddly, they were—are—not unlike your daughter’s for wanting to stay. Home’s a funny thing, you know? Some of us find it right where we were born, others...maybe not so much. Maybe I don’t feel Whispering Pines gives me the opportunity to do what I feel I need to do, but that doesn’t make it a bad town.” His voice softened. “And my family...they’re good people, all of ’em. They’ll keep an eye on Emily. Make sure she’s never lonely. Make sure she’s...safe.”

  This last part he said through a throat so thick he wasn’t sure how he he’d gotten the words out.

  Emily’s mother was quiet for a long moment before she said, “Guess you’ve given me a lot to think about.” She started for the door, then twisted back, her brow furrowed. “I can tell you’re a good man, Colin. From my experience, those are pretty rare these days.” A tiny smile flicked across her mouth. “And I wish you well. I really do.”

  Took a good five minutes after she left for Colin’s heart to stop hammering in his chest.

  * * *

  Emily didn’t see her mother again until the following morning, when she’d gone into the kitchen to make herself coffee and the older woman sat at the kitchen table, dressed and perfectly coiffed, lying in wait. Or sitting, in this case. In an ideal world, she would have acted as though everything was perfectly fine, that her mother’s presence was neither here nor there, that whatever the woman had to say—and Emily had no doubt she had plenty—would
simply bounce off her as harmlessly as Nerf bullets.

  In reality, however, she hadn’t slept worth spit, her heart was in tatters, and the anticipation alone of whatever was about to fall from her mother’s freshly reddened lips made her feel about five again.

  Except she wasn’t. And even though Emily still wouldn’t call herself fierce, she was a survivor, wasn’t she? Hell, she’d lived through not only the mortification of having to let several hundred people know that, nope, sorry, there wouldn’t be a wedding—not to mention the extra-added-value mortification of everyone knowing why—but the indignity of a broken heart brought on by nothing other than her own foolishness. Not that loving Colin was wrong, but letting things get as far as they had...

  Just hand over the dumbass medal and be done with it.

  So not really in the mood to chat with dear old mom right now.

  “Everyone else is gone,” Mother said, patting the space at the table next to her. “Although on Josh’s recommendation I went into town early to pick up some breakfast things at that diner. Annie’s. Since we all know I do not cook. Although I nearly killed myself in that truck—it’s been a million years since I drove stick.”

  Her mug clutched to her chest, Emily stood frozen to the spot in front of the coffeemaker, letting the steam open her pores. Her brain cells. She wasn’t sure who this woman was, but sure as shootin’ it wasn’t the one who’d given birth to her. By C-section after a twenty-eight-hour labor, she’d been told more times than she could remember. However...she was hungry, and Annie’s churros and breakfast burritos were the stuff of magic. So she sat—her mother had already set a plate—and took a burrito, not sure what to say. Or do. Or think.

  “You were already asleep when I got back from Colin’s last night,” her mother began, and Emily’s head whipped around.

  “What?”

  “I peeked into your room, but you were out like a light—”