“Why me, Tex? Why not someone else?”
“Because you’re the only one who knows how much blood, sweat and tears went into starting these orchards. Together, you and I can make them better than either of our folks ever dreamed. So what do you say, Emily?” Tex leaned forward urgently, hat in hand. “Can I count on you? Are you in?”
“THANKS FOR STAYING,” Emily told Dan several minutes later, after Tex had left.
Dan looked around her loft. The sleek, minimalist space didn’t seem to jibe with her any more than Tex Ostrander did. She seemed much more at home in his traditionally cozy kitchen.
“No problem,” Dan said. He had wanted to make certain she was all right. He watched as she walked to the stainless-steel island that served as both work surface and dinner table. She plucked an orange from the fruit bowl and began to peel it with single-minded concentration.
“Are you going to accept Tex’s offer?” Dan asked.
“I don’t know.” She offered Dan half the orange. “On the one hand, I’m really ticked off about the way he subverted my dream.”
“But not surprised,” Dan guessed as he popped a section of orange in his mouth.
Emily made a face. “He’s always been ambitious to a fault. It was never going to be enough for him to help run his parents’ orchard until they decided to retire.”
Curious, Dan asked, “Is that why you two never married?”
Emily downed one orange section, then another. “We got together when my mom died and I needed someone to be there for me. He stepped in and provided the stability and direction I needed at a time when just trying to decide whether or not to continue subscribing to the daily newspaper was a quandary.” She met his gaze. “When my grief ebbed and I no longer needed someone to solve all of life’s problems for me, I realized something else that had eluded me. He was always going to put his own needs first and think that his dreams were more important than mine. And that hurt.” Her eyes narrowed. “And he’s obviously still behaving in that manner—for example, thinking he’s doing me a favor by buying the orchard out from under me, because he can run it better than I can.”
“I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
She looked in the fridge. It was crammed with all manner of fresh fruit and vegetables. She moved the milk and cheese and withdrew a jar of dill pickles. Dan shook his head at her offer.
She withdrew a pickle for herself and recapped the jar. “Bottom line—I still want a hand in restoring the property where I grew up.” She took a bite of the pickle, catching the dripping juice with one hand cupped beneath the other. Appearing as if the sour taste were heaven—and who knew, maybe it was to a pregnant woman—she continued, “And the thought of having the money to start a restaurant and a line of peach, strawberry, blackberry and plum products with my family’s name on it is tempting.”
Dan studied the glitter of excitement in her eyes. “Even if it means working closely with your ex?”
Emily turned on the spigot and washed her hands with lavender soap. Some of her pleasure faded. “I think I can handle Tex.”
Dan ignored the stab of unaccustomed jealousy and pointed out, “You didn’t seem that sure earlier.” He watched as she dried her hands with a towel, determined to let her have her say. “When you were pretending I was someone of significance in your life.”
Emily flushed, as if guilty as charged. She helped herself to a wrapped candy on the counter, then pivoted toward him. The tantalizing drift of orange-blossom perfume teased his senses. “First of all,” she corrected archly, “I never actually said that.”
She hadn’t needed to. Tex had gotten the message and jumped to the necessary conclusion.
Dan waved off her offer of a candy. “It was implied, in the way you introduced me as your ‘um, friend.’”
She removed the foil wrapper from the treat and popped it in her mouth. Dan watched her savor it. Her eyes locked with his, she lifted her shoulders in an aimless shrug. “You could have refused to go along with it.”
“And desert a damsel in distress?” he retorted. “I don’t think so.”
The color in her cheeks went from pink to rose. “Whatever.” She waved off Dan’s concern. “It’s no longer necessary now that I know why Tex did what he did.”
“Sure about that?” Dan took comfort in the fact that Emily hadn’t given Tex an answer, had merely said she wanted to think about it before deciding.
“What are you insinuating?” she demanded, apparently annoyed.
Aware he did not want to be shown the door as readily as Tex had just been, Dan shrugged and voiced his theory about what was really going on here. “Maybe this is all a ruse to get you back. Maybe Tex is still interested in you—romantically.” Certainly Dan couldn’t imagine letting Emily go without a fight if she was his woman.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Emily scoffed. “Tex and I haven’t been in contact with each other for ten years!”
“Plenty of time for him to realize he made a mistake and want to make amends.” And what better way than by being an integral part of Emily’s dream of restoring her family’s farm to its former glory?
Emily sighed resentfully. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Whatever the answer, Dan needed to hear her say it.
She folded her arms in front of her, the action accentuating the fullness of her breasts and the slight roundness of her tummy. “Because I’m not interested in Tex.”
The look on her face made him a believer. His heartbeat kicked up. “Not that it should matter to you either way,” Emily added bluntly.
Yeah. Well…“It does,” Dan shot back just as bluntly.
“Why?” she asked.
Aware she was close enough for him to see the turbulent emotion in her eyes and note the slight unsteadiness of her breathing, Dan retorted gruffly, “Because I don’t want to see you—or your baby—hurt.” And whether Emily realized it or not, this situation with Tex had the potential to do just that.
“So you’re what now?” Emily tossed back. “My unofficial protector?”
Aware that put him in the class Tex had been in—and look where that had gotten the man—Dan exhaled slowly. “And then some,” he murmured back.
She stared at him in confusion.
And then he did what he had been wanting to do from the first moment they’d met. He forgot all the reasons they shouldn’t tear down boundaries, took Emily in his arms and pulled her against him. She tipped her head back with a soft, anticipatory “Oh!”, which propelled him to continue. Caution fled as he cupped the back of her neck with one hand and slanted his mouth over hers. She moved against him provocatively as their mouths met. After that all was lost in the scent and touch and feel of her. Her lips were warm and mobile, and she tasted like chocolate, peppermint and woman. The fullness of her breasts, the slight roundness of her tummy pressing into him, increased his desire. Dan stroked his hands up and down her spine, and let himself fall even further into the kiss, aware all the while of the steady rhythm of her heart against his.
Emily hadn’t intended to give in to the simmering attraction any more than she had meant to lean on Dan’s solid, reassuring presence when Tex showed up. But from the moment he touched her, her spirits rose. There was just something about Dan that she could not resist. That left her wanting to know and experience more.
Like this kiss. Maybe it was because she was pregnant and had been alone for what seemed like forever, but Emily had never felt such pure, unadulterated passion, never wanted a man more than she did at this moment. He used no pressure, yet she felt overwhelmed. Persuaded. Seduced. And the fierce ardor welling up inside her was reason enough, she knew, to break off the sweet, steamy embrace.
Reminding herself that, like it or not, Dan was still her employer and, hence, she needed to exhibit at least a little common sense, Emily put her hands on his chest and pushed.
Dan lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire. Breathing hard, flushing with a heat
that started deep inside and radiated outward, Emily stepped back.
She noted with chagrin there wasn’t an ounce of regret in his demeanor. Or in her heart. Her mind, however, was a different matter.
“That,” she said flatly, calling on every ounce of inner fortitude she had, “was a mistake that can’t happen again. I work for you.”
HER TREMBLING WORDS were a shock to his system. As much as Dan was loath to admit it, Emily was right. She was his employee. There would be time to pursue this attraction when that was no longer the case. Right now, there were larger problems to address.
He still needed to bring order to his family’s mealtimes—and like it or not, she was the key to that.
Emily needed to figure out what she was going to do after December first. And with Thanksgiving coming up…Concentrating on the two weeks between now and the holiday seemed best.
“I crossed a line I shouldn’t have,” he admitted reluctantly.
Emily sighed and pushed her hands through her hair. “We both did.”
“So what do you say?” he prodded.
“Want to just forget it? Pretend—” she paused and briefly averted her eyes “—it never happened?”
Dan nodded, knowing even as he bid her good-night and left that it wasn’t that simple. That kiss had been seared into his memory, and, he suspected, hers, too.
Fortunately the house was quiet when he got home.
Kayla was already asleep, the older two kids ensconced in their rooms. Walt was in the study, printing out photos for a client.
Dan noticed the digital pictures coming out of the printer. One glance told him why Walt had waited to print until the kids weren’t around. “Another cheater?”
“Unfortunately. Client’s not going to be too happy. On the other hand, she’ll be relieved to find her husband’s infidelity was not a figment of her imagination, as he claimed.” Walt indicated the machine connected to the phone. “You had a fax come in a few minutes ago.”
Dan plucked the pages out of the feed. It was from Emily. She hadn’t wasted any time completing the paperwork and sending him a copy of her agreement. Dan wished her timing had been better. He turned back to Walt. “I imagine you looked at this?”
Walt nodded. “With the exception of your friend Grady McCabe all her references are from the restaurant work she did four to ten years ago.”
Before she became a personal chef for hire. Dan scanned the pages Emily had sent, relieved to note that nothing else looked out of the norm. “We discussed that.”
Walt ran a hand over his hair. “And?”
She hedged in a way that made him want to back off, for both their sakes. Once again going with his gut, Dan shrugged off his uncle’s concern. “I trust her,” he said flatly. He held up a hand before Walt could interject. “But to make you feel better, I’m giving you the okay to do a routine background check.”
Finally Walt was happy. “Want me to follow up with the references, too?”
Dan nodded. “But don’t go overboard,” he cautioned. He knew his uncle. The years as a private investigator had left Walt seeing trouble around every corner. And trouble was something Dan did not want to find. Not now, and certainly not before the Thanksgiving holiday.
TO EMILY’S RELIEF, DAN filled out the paperwork as quickly as she did. She reported for work on Monday afternoon at four. Determined to meet the needs of the Kingsland family without becoming emotionally involved with Dan and his kids, Emily set about preparing nutritious after-school snacks to hold the kids until their six-o’clock dinner. And immediately hit a snag.
“I can’t do my homework,” Kayla told Emily when she got home from school.
Although child care was not part of her job description, Emily reminded herself, creating a warm and welcoming environment for them was. She set a snack of apple slices and yogurt dip in front of Kayla.
“Why not?” Emily cut shortening and salt into flour and added just enough water to make dough.
As if she had no appetite whatsoever, Kayla glumly pushed the dish away. “Because we have to ask our parents what their Thanksgiving traditions were when they were our age, and my mommy isn’t here.”
“She has e-mail, doesn’t she?” Emily asked as she put golf-ball-size rounds in the cast-iron tortilla press.
“Of course Mom has e-mail,” Ava said, walking in the door, heavy backpack of books in one hand, a tall iced latte in the other.
“Do you know the address?” Emily asked, determined to solve the problem before it became a full-blown catastrophe that would interfere with the dinner hour.
Ava sat down at the desk in the kitchen and switched on the personal computer. A series of key clicks later, she had logged on to the Kingsland-family e-mail and started a new message for Dr. Brenda Kingsland. “There you go.” Ava grabbed her backpack and coffee and exited.
“Dinner’s not for another two hours,” Emily called after Ava’s retreating figure. “Do you want a snack?”
“Nope. Not hungry!” Ava responded without turning around.
Kayla wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist. “Will you type the message for me?”
Knowing the task was beyond the eight-year-old’s capability, Emily smiled. “Sure,” she said.
A few minutes later, it was done.
The question had been sent, and Kayla began happily munching the apple slices Emily had prepared.
DAN WALKED IN AT SIX to find a make-your-own-taco bar had been set up on the kitchen counter. Emily was standing at the stove flipping fresh flour tortillas on a griddle while the rest of his family, drawn by the delicious scents filling the house, made their way into the kitchen. The scene was cozy and welcoming, despite the continuing lack of total cooperation from his children.
“I thought we’d fill our plates buffet-style,” Emily told everyone. Her cheerful smile buoyed Dan’s spirits even more than when Walt had let him know—first thing that morning—that the routine background check had turned up nothing at all. There wasn’t even a parking ticket on Emily’s record.
“I’m not all that hungry,” Ava announced, tossing her empty latte cup in the trash.
“Maybe some salad topped with a little meat and cheese?” Emily suggested gently.
“I guess I could do that.” Ava reluctantly headed up the buffet line.
Dan relaxed as some of his eldest daughter’s recalcitrance faded away. The air of serenity falling over the kitchen was exactly what he had envisioned.
“Will you make mine?” Kayla asked Emily from her perch at the computer keyboard in the kitchen. Behind her, the e-mail screen glowed.
“Sure,” Emily said, beckoning Kayla to her side so the little girl could show her what she wanted.
Tommy—who had showered after wrestling practice for once—added spicy beef, greens, pico de gallo and black beans to his plate, passing on the rice and tortillas.
Walt showed no such restraint—he loaded up his plate with a bit of everything, including the freshly made guacamole and sour cream. Stomach rumbling, Dan followed suit.
“Is your baby going to be a girl or a boy?” Kayla asked when Emily had fixed a plate for herself and sat down.
Although technically it was none of his business, Dan had wondered as much himself.
Emily’s face lit up, the way it always did when she spoke about her baby. “I don’t know yet,” she said.
Ava leaned forward eagerly. “Are you going to find out?”
Emily nodded. “In a couple of weeks, when I have my ultrasound.”
“What’s an ultrasound?” Kayla asked.
Emily briefly explained the procedure. “I’ll bring a picture so you can see. That is—” she flushed and looked at Dan “—if it’s okay.”
A lot of things were okay, Dan thought. Including Emily’s presence there with them. “Sure,” he said.
At the kitchen desk, the mail icon sounded with a little ding. Kayla got up so quickly she knocked her chair over. “Look!” she shouted in excitement. �
��It’s a message from Mommy!”
“I WISH YOU HADN’T done that,” Dan said as he walked Emily out to her van after dinner.
Emily could see that in the implacable set of his mouth and the disapproval in his eyes. She also thought Dan was wrong. “Kayla got the information she needed, as well as a promise that her mom would try to call the kids tomorrow, talk with them.”
His handsome jaw took on the consistency of granite. “A promise that Brenda might not keep.”
Emily shrugged. “And that she very well might.”
Dan eyed her like a grizzly on a bad day. “Look, I gather you meant well…but my kids have been hurt enough by their mother’s abandonment.”
Emily turned up the collar on her coat to ward off the chill of the November evening. “And you think you’re helping them by encouraging their low expectations of their mom.”
Dan looked at the half-moon in the dark night sky. “I’m encouraging them to be realistic.”
Emily leaned against the side of her van and folded her arms in front of her. She knew she risked overstepping her bounds by getting involved in this, but she had to speak her mind. “Even if it devastates them in the end? Brenda works in dangerous parts of the world. She could easily succumb to illness, earthquake, flood or heaven knows what else. You don’t want their last thoughts of her to be angry, or for their last contact with her to be hurtful. You don’t want your kids to have to carry that kind of burden for the rest of their lives.”
Dan paused. “Are we talking about them now, or you?”
“Both, I guess.”
He waited.
Emily sighed. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to explain. “My dad was a fantastic businessman and farmer. He grew the Stayton Orchard from nothing. Whereas my mom was dependent on him for literally everything. When my dad died, she fell apart and let the business go all to hell in just a couple years. She destroyed the legacy he’d built, my college funds, everything. I was furious with her when she sold the farm. I hitched a ride to Fort Worth with a friend who went to college here, got a job in a restaurant and didn’t look back.” Emily shoved a hand through her hair and continued miserably. “Two years later Mom died of complications from pneumonia. Although at the very end we were able to see each other and express our love for each other, I still can’t forgive myself for all the time we squandered. I can’t forgive myself for not taking the time to understand things better from her point of view.”
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