She hadn’t hesitated. She needed to get home. During the drive, her mother had called with the horrible news. Emma’s father had died of a cardiac arrest.
Earlier, he’d complained of chest pains. Her mother had thought he’d pulled a muscle chopping wood. His chest pain got worse after he’d dropped her off at the high school’s field.
Why hadn’t he mentioned his pain to her? She would’ve never left him. She’d want to stay near and keep him safe. Over and over she’d asked Drew that. As she had cried, Drew held her hand and had reassured her that he’d stick around for as long as she needed him. They’d been together since. First they were friends. Then their friendship changed into an exclusive relationship during their college years.
One morning, after spending the night in Drew’s dorm room, she found a note on her windshield. Stay away from Drew or else had been written on the note.
The message hadn’t scared her. What frazzled her nerves was the dead cat splayed on the leather seat of her car. She’d vomited before grabbing the cat by the tail and tossing its disemboweled body into the bushes next to Drew’s dorm.
Afterward, she had suggested to Drew the crazy idea of keeping their relationship a secret. He was into football for the long haul, had shared his dreams of someday coaching for an NFL team. No way would she let his concern for her safety distract him from making his dreams come true.
Of course, he had demanded a reason. She went with the old standby; she didn’t like change. Her reasoning was partially true. Taking their relationship to a higher level of everyone knowing was a huge change. In her opinion, anyway. Drew had caved, and said he’d go along with her insane idea.
However, he warned her there’d come a time when he might want a different arrangement. If she’d known “different” meant breaking things off with him, she might’ve told him about the dead cat and the note. Or the tingling-up-the-spine sensation of being watched as she’d rushed from her car to her mother’s place after she’d driven home from where Drew went to college. Now, there was more at stake than just her safety.
Taking a deep breath at the possibility of damaging yet another cherished secret she held close to her heart, she pulled in front of her house and parked in her driveway. The sight of her mother walking in the cemetery behind the house had her smiling though her chest ached.
Her mom missed her dad, and Emma . . . she swallowed past the lump in her throat. She missed her mother. At the age of seventy, her mom was slowly losing her mind to Alzheimer’s.
She got out of her car and shut the door behind her. When Jackie—her mother’s caregiver—saw Emma, she waved. Emma headed over and stopped at her father’s grave. Her mother was on her knees, swiping her fingers side to side across the grave marker.
“She wanted to visit your dad,” Jackie said with a nod at her mother’s head of gray hair.
Emma lowered herself onto her knees and enveloped her mother’s frail body in her arms. “I love you, Mom.”
“Mother, I want to go home,” her mother said, her tone childlike.
“It’s me, your daughter Emma.”
“Don’t know Emma.”
“Come on, Maureen.” She addressed her mother by her first name. “Show me your favorite headstones. Tell me what kind of person you think they were.”
She let go of her mother and helped her to her feet. Hand in hand, they walked among the headstones. As her mother talked, Emma squeezed her hand and smiled. This was the game they played. Afterward, she’d feel awful for misleading her mother. But she loved her too much to let a disease of the mind keep them from spending time together.
“How’s Dad?”
Emma’s steps faltered. Her mother must’ve thought she and Drew were her dead parents.
“Dad’s fine.”
Though her mind wasn’t completely there, her mom must’ve sensed something was wrong.
“Dad loves you.”
“Yes, Maureen, he does.”
“Dad makes everything right.”
No, not this time. Not when he’d said Tess’s name in place of Emma’s.
Her mother yanked her hand out of Emma’s and glared. Emma reached for her, but Mom recoiled back.
“You make it right again, Emma Lombardi, or so help me . . .” Wrapping her arms around herself as though giving comfort to a body she couldn’t understand, her mother whimpered.
“I’ll take her home,” Jackie said. “Come on now, Maureen.” Home was the adult family home at the edge of town.
Emma’s mother set her hand in Jackie’s. Together they strolled back to Jackie’s car. Emma followed. With a touch of a button on her key fob, Jackie unlocked the doors to her car.
Emma helped her mom into the passenger seat and buckled her in. “I’ll be by at dinner to see you.”
Her mother didn’t say anything back, just gave Emma a dismissive wave. Their time together was over. Saddened but determined to break through to the strong woman inside the shell of what her mother had become, Emma leaned in and pressed her lips to her mom’s cheek. Her mother startled beneath her touch.
Emma was ready to close the door when her mother reached out and cradled her face in her warm palms. “Love you, Emma.”
The lightest touch, the softest gesture, and the best words. Oh, Mom. “I love you more.” Holding back tears, she gently closed the door and watched them until Jackie’s car disappear around the corner.
The tightness in her chest refused to go away. Of her friends, Emma’s parents had been the oldest. For years they had tried to have a baby. Imagine their surprise when her mother got pregnant at the age of forty-five. Though her dad wasn’t a spring chicken at ten years her mother’s senior, he took on the responsibility of fatherhood with the energy of a guy in his twenties.
Her father. She unlocked the door to her place, and rushed to the kitchen. She’d forgotten about the tulips she’d bought to put at his gravesite. He loved tulips. Had said they reminded him of the place where he’d proposed to Emma’s mom, up in Skagit Valley, Washington, in a field of tulips.
She grabbed the bunch and headed to his gravesite. On her knees, she spread the tulips across the granite marker. “For you, Dad. I miss you. Every day.” Emma started to get up, but something silver in the overgrown grass caught her attention. A silver chain. She held the chain in her hand then pocketed it. On the chain was a key. A key for my heart, Drew, she remembered whispering to him as she’d stuck her hand out, unfolded her clenched palm and had shown him the way to her heart. She reached inside her shirt and felt the coolness of the heart-shaped lock. Apparently, Drew didn’t want his piece of her heart.
Numb, she walked back to the house. Inside her place, she sat on the couch and turned on the television. She didn’t hear the words or see the images. Everything was silent. Everything a blur.
In the grand scheme of things, the finality of her breakup with Drew was small. Sandy’s little boy has leukemia for goodness sakes.
Her mind made up, she texted Eve. Sure, she’d love to head the reclusive guy retrieval team. Keeping people safe was her business.
With broken wrists and having his man friends hold his junk while he peed . . . well, Drew definitely wasn’t safe living by himself.
Chapter Six
“Why do I have the gut feeling this idea of yours is really, really bad?” With her hands on her hips, Emma looked from Eve to the two-story house. She’d always thought the wrap-around porch and picture windows were downright homey. Too bad she currently didn’t like the home’s owner.
“You said you’d help.”
“Help put together a plan,” she reminded Eve. “I’d be central command while you, Asa, and the guys are my troops. Get it?”
Eve’s arched brows pulled together. “What’s the harm in ‘dropping by.’” Eve gestured with air quotes.
“I wanted to head and command from a distance. Not be in the same space with him, alone.”
Eve leaned close to her. “If it’s over, then there shouldn’t
be any feelings for Drew, right?” Her voice had fallen to a whisper as though someone might be listening in on their conversation as they hid behind the trees surrounding Drew’s place.
Tipping her chin toward the woods behind the house, Eve scrunched her face into an expression Emma could only guess was determination. “Out here, it’s just you and him.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You’re starting to sound like one of those narrators from a horror movie right before someone gets axed to bits.”
Eve pouted. Maybe with a guy, it’d have an effect, but not on her.
“The mardi gras party was a disaster.” She eyed the house. “And he’s moved on.”
The front pages of the tabloid magazines had Drew and Tess plastered on them. From the way the magazines flew off the local store’s shelves, the townspeople were very interested in Drew’s business. She didn’t blame them for being curious. After all, Drew hadn’t been around town in months. Well, since Emma had broken up with him. They must wonder about his sudden move to the Bay area and why he kept the old, but charming house in the woods.
When she’d seen the headlines and speculation about Drew and the “stunning” redhead, Emma was glad she wasn’t in Tess’ place. However, at night, alone in her bed, she envied Tess for having what she lacked—courage. It took guts to be scrutinized under a media microscope day in and day out.
The rumbling of a truck cut into the silence and yanked her out of her thoughts. They both turned toward the noise. Eve started to do a dance of sorts with the swing of her hips and a wave of her arms. “They’re here.” She jumped up and down.
Lucas and Drew. Lucas’ Ford F150 truck drove up the dirt road and parked at the bottom of the slope to the house. Emma’s heart raced. Breathe, Emma. The driver’s door opened. From her vantage point on the slope, she watched Lucas get out of the truck. The passenger door opened. She began to break out in a cold sweat.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Eve rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Em. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
No, she couldn’t see. Her vision went in and out. “Seriously, I gotta sit.”
Eve helped her to the steps of Drew’s place. Emma sat. As the guys walked toward them, she shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand.
“What is she doing here?” Drew barked.
Emma glared. “Nice to see you, too.”
Eve tsked. “Now, now kids. Play nice. My man and Asa’s man are tired of holding your junk for you, Drew. We figured four years with you gives Em every right to that privilege.”
“I don’t need help.” Terseness reverberated in his tone. “Eve, can I have a private word with you?”
“No go, Hazard. Lucas and I will be leaving now after he gets Em’s things from my Jeep.”
“My things?”
“What do you mean Em’s things?”
She and Drew had spoken in unison.
Hands to the air, Eve slowly backed up. “We—Asa, Rhys, Lucas, and I—decided you two have things to discuss. You’ve got the weekend to do it.”
“I don’t need my ex staying with me,” Drew growled.
“Too bad, Mr. Super Bowl Champ. Emma has nowhere to stay, and no ride. Asa and Rhys took Emma’s Prius for a trip into Ashton. They’ll be back Sunday night. And my honey there—” Eve nodded toward Lucas “—changed the locks on Emma’s doors before he came to get you. He’ll change it back Sunday night.”
Lucas must’ve tampered with the locks while she and Eve had been visiting with Sandy and Chance. On the way back to Emma’s place, Eve had surprised her with an “emergency” detour to Drew’s place. Go figure. More meddling from the meddlesome Eve. This time she’d wrangled in their friends, too.
In her peripheral vision, she watched Lucas set the luggage on the wooden steps to Drew’s front door.
“I bought you a few items,” Eve said with a nod at the luggage. “I figured the rest is still in the house.”
The rest. Make-up, toiletries, extra panties and bras, her hairdryer—stuff she hadn’t gone back for after the breakup.
“Make sure the stubborn ass takes his pain meds and rests his wrists,” Lucas said to her as he went to stand by Eve’s side.
Without a word or an acknowledgement that she breathed the same air he did, Drew barged past her, stormed up the steps, and waited in front of the door.
Eve zipped over, and giving Emma a hug, whispered next to her ear, “Good luck. Text me later, okay?”
Ha, if Emma was still alive.
“And don’t worry. You’ll have your car and your house back in time for work on Monday.” She hugged Emma tighter before letting go and glaring at Drew’s back. “Tess bitch or not, Emma won’t take shit from you. So don’t you dare take advantage of her kindness. Otherwise, I’ll whoop your ass, you hear me, Hazard?”
If the situation weren’t so unbelievable, Emma would have laughed at the seriousness on Eve’s face and the scowl on Drew’s when he’d turned around before focusing on the door again. Hand in hand, Eve and Lucas walked down the slope and to his truck, leaving Emma with a stewing-mad Drew.
“Come open the damn door.”
She would’ve told him to shove off, but the pain and tiredness in his voice had her getting up and rushing to his side. Sweat trickled down his face, and dammit, his face looked a god-awful color.
“I think you need to lie down.”
“No shit.”
“Where are the house keys?”
“Inside the left pocket.”
“Pants or jacket?” Please let it be his jacket.
“Pants.”
Groaning, she stuck her hand into his left pant pocket and fished out his keys. She found the house key and slipped it into the keyhole. It didn’t unlock the door.
“The golden one.”
He’d had the lock changed. Emma wouldn’t take it personally.
“Just poke it in already before I keel over.”
Clutching the key he mentioned, she put it into the lock and turned the doorknob. “When was the last time you took any pain medication?”
Having two broken wrists hurt, right? Wait a minute . . . “What were you doing while out with Lucas?” What had Drew been up to that had him close to passing out from pain? “Drew?”
“I’m not telling you anything. It’s none of your business anymore.”
He headed straight for their bedroom. No, Emma couldn’t think like that. There was no “theirs” anymore. Even with a child to connect them, they weren’t a couple.
She went after him. Please don’t let him be passed out on the floor.
She found him on the bed fully clothed with his feet dangling off the edge. He still had his shoes on. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched him sleep.
Something had bothered her since she’d heard Drew was in town, isolating himself in his place. Where was his girlfriend, Tess? And why hadn’t he manned-up and returned his part of the necklace rather than leaving it at Emma’s father’s gravesite?
That damn necklace. Since she’d found it, she’d removed the key from the chain that had belonged to him and placed it on hers. Now the key and heart lock belonged to Emma. Had it always been like that? Was Drew’s heart never fully in their relationship?
Tears stinging her eyes at a possibility she’d rather not think about, she rushed out of the house and went to sit on the stairs, next to the luggage she’d forgotten about.
Mid-afternoon sunlight filtered in through the spaces where the trees didn’t meet. Beneath her, the wooden step was cool. Stretching her short legs in front of her, she pulled her cell phone out of her sweater’s pocket and dialed.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Chris.” She passed a trembling hand over her brow.
She shouldn’t be doing this, sneaking off to ride. But she needed a release like no one’s business. And her obstetrician had given her the okay to do limited riding after she’d made it past the first trimester.
“Can you pick me up at s
even tomorrow morning, my place?” Drew was a late riser while she was a morning person. She’d walk to her place, meet Chris and be back at Drew’s by the time he got up at nine.
“Sure thing. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, dandy. Why?”
“You sound down in the dumps.”
“I just need a few grabs on the track. A rough ride to get my mind off things, you know?”
“Drew again, huh?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Come on, Em, the guy’s got a firm hold on you. So firm, even I can’t compete.”
She laughed. Chris had nailed it. How could she move forward with any guy when they couldn’t compare to sexy, funny, tender—but currently a jerk—Drew?
“So we ride tomorrow,” Chris reassured. “He might be the man on the field, but I’m the shit on the tracks.”
“Okay, big guy.” She smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hung up and put her phone away. Grabbing the luggage, she stood. Her gaze drifted to the lock. He’d had the lock changed and hadn’t said a word of it to her. Why change one thing? Why not sell the house, already?
Chapter Seven
Drew woke up to the memory of frustrated words directed at him. As he was marched up the steps of the private jet that would take him to Oregon, his PR guy had given him a good ass-chewing.
“Your life’s in a tailspin of partying, drinking, and being just a plain shithead,” Jones had tactfully pointed out. “Get a reality check. Go somewhere quiet and think about your future, man. You got two broken wrists. Whatcha gonna throw when you got two fucking broken wrists?”
Yeah, Jones definitely didn’t mince words.
A movement in the corner pulled him out of his thoughts. Emma had shifted in the overstuffed chair, tucking her legs beneath her. It was the chair she’d picked out to make their bedroom “cozier.”
Though she must’ve realized Drew was awake, she hadn’t said a word to him. Instead, she had stared at him with those wise eyes of hers.
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