Unexpectedly Hers (Sterling Canyon Book 3)

by Jamie Beck

  Mrs. Lawson nodded thoughtfully, but said, “I’m glad Ryder took the whole day off. I appreciate the greeting.”

  Emma’s eye twitched. She glanced at Ryder, wondering if he enjoyed the disparity of his mother’s affection for her sons.

  “I didn’t take the day off for you, Mom. I’m not working on the film anymore.” Ryder tugged at his ear. It surprised Emma that he hadn’t yet told his mother of the change in plans.

  “Did your brother fire you?” Mrs. Lawson’s eyes lit with indignation.

  “I quit,” Ryder admitted. “Wyatt wanted me to stick with him, but I’m not interested in that w-world anymore.”

  “Who could blame you, honey? After what happened, I thought you were crazy to come in the first place.” Mrs. Lawson linked her arm with Ryder’s. “Why don’t you come home with me after the holiday?”

  That was it. Emma did not like Mrs. Lawson. Wyatt had already been hurt by Ryder’s decision, now his own mother would deprive him of what little time he had left with his brother.

  Ryder shrugged noncommittally. “We’ll see.”

  Doubts about her plans for the Lawson family reunion trickled into her consciousness, but she bit her tongue. “Let me show you to your room. You’ll probably want to freshen up after such a long trip.”

  She hefted the suitcase and escorted Mrs. Lawson to her room, where she gladly left her. When she passed through the lobby, Ryder was still there.

  “Is she always like that?” Emma huffed.

  “Like what?”

  “So uninterested in your brother.” Emma’s fists settled on her hips.

  “They’ve always butted heads. He blamed her for letting my dad get away with so much, and she blames him for my accident.” Ryder leaned against the front desk.

  “Why can’t you get her to quit blaming Wyatt so they might get along? The most important thing you three have is each other.”

  “It’s not that simple, Emma. She thinks Wyatt doesn’t respect her. In a way, she’s not wrong. You’ve seen how Wyatt shoots off his mouth when he’s mad, and he was m-mad a lot back in Vermont because my dad was . . . difficult.” Ryder shrugged. “They love each other. They just don’t trust each other.”

  Trust. Always difficult to regain once lost.

  “I guess he’ll never get what he needs from her.” A shiver passed through Emma because she worried Wyatt might very well end up dead in his quest for salvation from whatever sins he believed he’d committed.

  “Which is what?” Ryder crossed his arms defensively, obviously protective of his mother.

  Emma softened her voice. “For her to look at him like she looks at you. I bet this comeback attempt has more to do with some twisted kind of atonement to the two of you than with his desire to be back in competition.”

  “Maybe.” Ryder frowned.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to judge.” She frowned, reflecting on her own family. “Heck, I haven’t talked to my dad in seven months. Tomorrow is one of the biggest family holidays of the year, and I’ll be spending it without either parent.”

  Ryder cocked his head. Even though his darn sunglasses hid his eyes, she felt his intense gaze. “Maybe you should take some of your own advice and call him.”

  Call her father. A novel idea.

  Emma didn’t respect some of her father’s choices, but she’d never intended to cut all ties. His departure had devastated and angered her. She’d wanted him to miss her so much he’d come running back, so she’d refused to initiate contact.

  Her mother—pleased to see her ex punished however possible—hadn’t discouraged that behavior. Once her mom recovered from her depression, Emma’d refrained from reaching out to her father, afraid her mother would view it as a betrayal and slip back into darkness. The sad truth was that her father accepted the loss pretty easily, and his calls became less frequent each year.

  Still, the cumulative effect of her decisions deteriorated the relationship so slowly, she didn’t recognize it until it was too late.

  At thirty-one, she understood how exaggerated her parents’ reactions to their own divorce had been. If her mother had moved on instead of wallowing and blaming and praying, maybe Emma’s whole life could have been more of an adventure.

  Now Emma faced her own romantic dilemma. One she knew her mother would not understand. But what about her father?

  He might be the only person who could empathize with her desire to ignore caution. Who wouldn’t judge her for how she’d barreled ahead into a highly sexual, gratifying relationship with Wyatt. Who might even applaud her decision to press forward with her books even though, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she could never indefinitely hide behind a pen name.

  Wyatt exited the van and braced himself to see his mom. He knew Ryder hated being their mediator. Considering how his plans to help his brother had backfired so far, he was determined to do this one thing right. They’d all be parting ways soon, and Wyatt needed to leave for competition on a mental high note.

  Voices coming from the dining room beckoned, so he went there before changing out of his gear. Ryder and his mother were drinking tea and eating some hummus concoction Emma must’ve prepared. Emma, however, was nowhere to be seen. Smart girl.

  “Hey, Mom!” When his mom remained seated, he brushed off the insult and bent down to offer an awkward hug. “How was your flight?”

  “Fine, thank you.” She flashed a stiff smile and gestured toward a dining chair. “Sit down and have something to eat. Your brother has been filling me in on the past few weeks.”

  If Ryder mentioned the avalanche, his mother either didn’t care or chose not to ask. Wyatt didn’t know how to feel about that, so again, he pushed it aside. He couldn’t start an argument within minutes of seeing her, could he?

  Mari and Buddy were chatting as they strolled into the dining room. Upon seeing his mother, Mari quickly donned a polite expression. “Hi, Mrs. Lawson, it’s nice to see you again. I hope you had a good flight. This is your first trip to Colorado, right?”

  “Yes.” His mom spared Mari a placating glance. “It’s quite dramatic. The mountains are quite different from those at home.”

  “You should see them up close.” Mari cocked her head. “Perhaps you’d like to come out with us on Friday to watch Wyatt train. You can watch live feed from the video monitor in the van. It’s quite exciting. Your son’s an exceptional athlete.”

  “No, thank you.” Her mouth settled into a firm line. “Danger doesn’t appeal to me, especially after what happened to Ryder.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.” Mari shifted gears and pointed at the small camera in the corner. “Buddy, grab that camera so we can upload the video.”

  Video?

  “Why’d you film the dining room all day?” Wyatt asked, wondering whether Emma had noticed.

  “To get footage of your mother’s impressions when she arrived. I assumed we wouldn’t be here on time. Had one rolling in the parlor, too. Most of it’s probably useless, but we might’ve caught something worthwhile. Ah, the fun job of editing,” she joked, although it didn’t strike Wyatt as being very funny.

  Then again, Emma had probably spent the majority of her day in the kitchen and the office. He couldn’t imagine her passing through the inn would merit any interest, so she was safe.

  Wyatt pulled off his jacket. “Let me grab a quick shower and change, then I’ll be back down to visit.”

  “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” His mother dragged a carrot stick through the hummus.

  Wyatt nodded at this brother, then trod through the inn wishing his skin didn’t itch every time he interacted with his own mother. On his way up the stairs, he bumped into Emma.

  “You’re back.” Her welcoming smile made the itching stop.

  “Safe and sound.” Just the sight of Emma lifted his spirits.

  “Thank God.” She peeked down the stairs, muttering, “Did you see your mom?”

  “Briefly. Thanks for getting her, and f
or making snacks. I’ve got no idea how the next few days will play out, but it’s nice to know you’re here to talk to if things go south.” He reached for her hand and flashed a devilish smile. “In fact, got a few minutes now? My shower isn’t working great.”

  “Nice try.” She tugged her hand free. “I think I’ll pass given that everyone is awake and milling around.”

  Normally she’d say those things to him with a worried look on her face. Right now, however, she looked calm and confident.

  Wyatt narrowed his gaze. Her hair looked normal, smooth and tucked behind her ears. Her clothing looked comfortable and fresh as usual. Yet something seemed markedly changed. “You look different. What’s going on?”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow. Who knew you could be so perceptive?” She wrinkled her nose. “I called my dad today.”

  The few times her father had come up, she’d sounded melancholy, so her happy expression threw him. He noticed her fingers toying with a heart-shaped locket he hadn’t seen before. “Really? How’d that go?”

  “He was surprised, but it went well. A good first step.” She glanced around, possibly concerned about someone overhearing them. It felt like the wrong time for him to press for all the details, but he needed to know one thing.

  “Just tell me, what made you decide to reach out?”

  She shrugged. “Your mom’s arrival. The holiday. Watching your family struggle with the past, all of it made me realize I needed to revisit my own relationships with my parents. To start making decisions that suit me instead of worrying so much about how they might perceive me.”

  “Is that the secret fear you’ve been worried about?” His chest filled with warmth, thinking maybe he’d played some role in helping her.

  Emma glanced at her feet for a second. “Not exactly, but it’s a step in that direction.”

  “Good for you, Em. That deserves a reward.” He nudged closer, only a little disappointed she still wouldn’t share all her secrets. “Sure you don’t have time to come check out my shower?”

  “Stop!” She pushed at his chest, laughing. “I’ve got to take care of some things for dinner. Clean up and go spend some time with your mom and brother. I really want to see you all settled before you leave here.”

  Wyatt heaved a sigh. “Wish me luck.”

  Wyatt, Ryder, and his mom had been hanging out in the parlor for the past ninety minutes, digesting another excellent dinner. He hadn’t seen Emma since she’d cleared the dishes. Mari had gone to her room to review the day’s footage, and Jim and Buddy had hit town for a drink.

  Every few minutes, Wyatt glanced at the clock, wishing his mother would go to bed. It should feel like eleven o’clock to her. Why wasn’t she sleepy?

  Ryder rubbed his temple. “My head hurts a bit. I’m tired.”

  Their mother brushed his bangs away from his forehead. “That’s okay, honey. We understand. Actually, I’m a little wiped out myself.”

  Thank you, God.

  “Me, too,” Wyatt lied. “Trip and I pushed hard today, so I could use some Z’s. Looking forward to a day off tomorrow, and no doubt dinner will be amazing.”

  “Emma’s an excellent cook. I’m surprised neither of you has gained weight this month.” His mom surprised Wyatt then, by finally acknowledging his generosity. “Thank you for buying my ticket and bringing me here for the holiday. That was very thoughtful of you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Wyatt would’ve given Emma credit, except he thought that might ruin the rare moment with his mom.

  The three of them said their goodnights and meandered to their rooms. Wyatt closed his door and then stretched out on his bed. Emma usually slipped in sometime after ten, but tonight he didn’t feel like waiting that long.

  He’d been melancholy all afternoon, especially after his mom asked Ryder to return to Vermont with her on Sunday. Although that would only be a few days before Wyatt would be moving on to Crested Butte, he hated the idea. It still hurt when he thought about Ryder bailing on this journey.

  Worse, he didn’t like thinking about saying good-bye to Emma so soon. He wished she could come on tour with him for a while.

  Glancing at the clock for the thousandth time, he decided to take matters into his hands. With so little time left to share, he didn’t feel like wasting any of it. After making sure no one saw him leave his room, he dashed up the stairs to find Emma. He knocked before turning her knob, but her door was locked.

  “Hold on!” she called from inside amid a tumble of noise. Several seconds later, she opened the door. “Oh, is everything okay?”

  “It will be,” he grinned, nudging his way into her room.

  “Did you ditch your mom and Ryder?”

  “They went to sleep, and Mari’s been in her room for the past hour. I realized I’ve never been in your room. I want to see where you live.”

  Oddly, she drained of color. Her shyness still surprised him, especially after all the things they done with each other this month.

  Her room dwarfed his guestroom. A queen-size bed and dresser took up one side of the space. Across the room, a sizable nook housed a seating area with a sofa and a coffee table decorated with eight or nine pillar candles. An antique standing lamp with a fringed shade stood beside the sofa, and a vine-patterned area rug covered most of the floor. On a blank wall between the two spaces sat a large desk.

  Her taste in décor matched her wardrobe. Clean, simple patterns in soft greens, yellows, and whites.

  It smelled faintly sweet, like her body lotion and spice-scented candles. However, the windows were smaller up here. Although the pale palette helped brighten the space, something about the attic settled heavily in his gut. Emma lived like a princess in a tower, locked away with too little sunlight and no adventure.

  He couldn’t change that, except perhaps for providing a little more adventure here and now. He gathered her in his arms. “Light the candles.”

  “You want to stay here?” she squeaked.

  “Yeah. I want to have you in your bed so you’ll think about me when I’m gone and you’re here alone.”

  She stroked his cheek before curling her arms around his neck. “I’ll think about you regardless, Wyatt.”

  Wyatt knew he’d remember that softness in her voice for a long, long time.

  “Good.” He kissed her, feeling suddenly restless and needy. Screw the candles, he couldn’t wait. “I assume living with your mom means you haven’t had many men up here?”

  “You’re the first.” She blushed at the admission like it was shameful, when actually it turned him on.

  “So tell me, what kinds of fantasies have you spun up here, and how can I make them come true?”

  Her eyes widened before turning mischievous. No matter how introverted Emma could be, when it came to sex, she always opened up to him. She eased away and crossed to her closet. Seconds later, she returned, dangling a robe sash from her hand.

  He’d always loved these games, but with Emma they were even better. The girl who retained supreme control by day handed it over to him at night. She trusted him enough to let go, which meant everything. “I suggest you get undressed and lie on the bed.”

  While she disrobed, he decided to light those candles after all. He brought one to the nightstand. Holding the sash between his teeth, he took off his shirt and pants and then straddled Emma and tied her hands to the wrought iron headboard.

  Golden light flickered from the nearby candle, making her creamy skin glow. She raised her knees to cradle his hips, but he pushed them open and lowered himself so he could kiss her.

  He hadn’t forgotten the feel of her tears on his fingertips this morning, or the sound of her wavering voice as she’d explained her flurry of emotion. He’d replayed the scene throughout the day because no one had ever reacted to him that way. Had ever made him feel that important. That needed. That wanted.

  Sure, women had wanted him before for superficial reasons. But Emma actually cared. She saw something worthwhile in him that had
nothing to do with his medals or even his face. She kissed him as if everything in the world depended on it. As if he made her come alive, which is exactly how he now felt in return.

  “Emma, I know I promised you this fantasy, but I really want your hands on me. I want to be closer than this.” He registered her surprise, and the warm green glow that shone from her eyes.

  “Untie me, then.”

  He loosened the knots until she slipped her hands free and ran them along his spine. “Don’t stop.”

  And she didn’t. Neither did he. Not for a long, long time.

  An hour later, their sweat-soaked bodies lay snuggled together sideways on her bed. The candles still burned, casting shadows all around them. Wyatt found himself wishing he could live two lives: one that allowed him to stay here longer and another that went off to compete.

  He combed his fingers through her silky hair, staring at the ceiling. “Do you ever take vacation time?”

  “Not often.” She propped her chin up on his chest. “I did go to Cabo in September for a few days.” She mirrored his sudden grin. “Why’d that make you smile?”

  “Because I’m glad you get out of here once in a while. Maybe you’ll come visit me this winter. Maybe you’d even come check out Switzerland in April.”

  “I’ve never been to Europe.” Her voice filled with a wistful sort of wonder, but her brows pinched with doubts.

  “If I make it to the finals, say you’ll come. Come for the competition, and then we can stay a few days afterward. I’ll be done, one way or another, and we can explore the area.”

  She kissed his chest, but her eyes weren’t dancing with anticipation. “Part of me wants to jump at that invitation. But when we started this . . . thing . . . we both knew it would end. Maybe we’re better off not making plans.”

  “Is that really what you want?” He sat up slightly to counteract the tightness in his chest.

  “It’s complicated.” She rolled away.

  “What’s so complicated? We’re two adults. We’re not doing anything wrong.”