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Unexpectedly Hers (Sterling Canyon #3)

Page 18

by Jamie Beck


  “Don’t change the subject. Tell me what’s going on with you and our guest. Did you really maul him in the middle of Kelsey’s party? I don’t want to believe Connie Buckman’s voice mail.”

  Connie? That biddy hadn’t even been at Kelsey’s party. Emma’s mind raced, trying to picture the chain of gossips that had worked so fast that this news had already reached her mom. Annoyance didn’t begin to cover the hot emotion coursing through her body. One day she’d love to find the courage to tell all the busybodies to mind their own business.

  “Mom, I’m thirty-one, so please don’t talk to me like I’m twelve.” There, that felt good. So good, in fact, it spurred an unusual burst of chutzpah. “And yes, I did kiss him in good fun because of a bet.”

  Emma then frowned because that statement made the second or third half-truth of the morning, and it was barely past seven o’clock. She didn’t like having to defend herself, and she also didn’t like lying. No matter what, at the end of the day, Emma had always considered herself a conservative, kind, and honest person. The recognition that things were changing nettled like a burr.

  Living with secrets proved everything her mom had always claimed about casual sex and lies of omission. Emma’s justifications of her recent behavior corroded her integrity, a part of herself she’d always relied upon to feel proud.

  “Emma Anne, honestly. According to Connie, everyone assumes you’re doing more than ‘kissing’ our guest. Our guest. That’s not what I meant when I asked to you to keep him happy. And Lord knows, I raised you better than to flaunt yourself in front of the whole town.” Her mother’s scolding stole her breath.

  Of course, when she recalled the way Wyatt had disrobed her and pinned her to the wall, sheepish acknowledgement cooled her anger.

  Before Emma found her voice, her mother continued, “I left you in charge of everything, Emma. I’m trusting you with our livelihood at a critical time, with an important guest and opportunity. You know the publicity from his stay could improve our future. What if this little fling you’re having goes south and jades his opinion? I can’t believe you’d jeopardize our family legacy for something so . . . base. Haven’t we both seen how those impulses can cost people everything?”

  Her mother’s histrionics aside, Emma wasn’t ready to be done with Wyatt and the sort of hopeful anticipation he inspired—even if it was stupid, dangerous, doomed, deceitful. At the same time, she despised herself for letting her mother down. And for the fact that her mother wasn’t completely wrong. Sure, if things went south, Wyatt could use his platform to burn the inn. Worse, he could very well end up costing Emma something more important—her heart. Not that she’d confess anything now.

  “Mom, don’t overreact because I kissed someone. I mean, honestly, can’t you hear how ridiculous that sounds? I’m not hanging out on the corner of Cottonwood and Main selling favors. I’m sorry if people are jumping to conclusions about me and Wyatt.” She paused to swallow the guilt about that truth, then teased, “But maybe a little notoriety could make the inn more popular.”

  The dead silence on the other end of the line told her that her joke had bombed. The quiet stretched on, making Emma’s eye twitch.

  “Emma, if anyone knows how easy it is to get caught up in a flirtation with a dashing, larger-than-life kind of man, it’s me. Don’t set your sights on a boy who’s always going to have women chasing him.” Her mother’s voice had softened and wavered, as if she’d just been nicked by the memory of her own lost love. “Trust me, honey. No matter how lonely you may feel now, taking up with someone like that athlete is not going to end well. He’s probably got women in every town. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Mom, I’m not stupid. Sooner or later you have to let me make my own choices without weighing in and criticizing.” Emma sighed, sorry that she’d upset her mother, and conceding that Wyatt definitely wouldn’t lack for women while on the tour. “Now listen, I need to pack lunch for the crew before they head out to the mountain. I’ll call you if I need anything, but just relax. Everything is fine. Tell Aunt Vera I said hi. Love you!”

  Emma hung up before her mom could protest. She shoved her phone in her pocket and went to work on snacks and lunch, trying not to think too much about how confused she was about her feelings, her morals, and her mother’s constant warnings.

  Tension tightened her chest. Her brief taste of freedom summoned something deep in her nature even as common sense struggled to hold its ground.

  Yesterday self-restraint had lost its iron grip. Perhaps Emma had been too lonely for too long to care enough to resist.

  She frowned then, because as much as she might enjoy a torrid affair, the risks were sky-high. Mari’s antennae had already been raised by what she’d seen last night, and Emma didn’t think she was cagey enough to fool Mari for too long.

  Mari could ruin her life. Her life, which quite honestly required her to set all this silliness aside and focus on her new manuscript. The one moldering upstairs despite the looming deadline.

  One might think Wyatt’s arrival would’ve have made it easier to finish her book. After all, her original encounter with him had spurred a million fun, fictional ideas. But she’d built Dallas’s character on archetypes and fantasy. Getting to know Wyatt better had increased a sort of nagging guilt she had about having used him to create Dallas in the first place. That guilt paralyzed her each time she sat down to write.

  Looks like her mother was right. Sex and lust were threatening to destroy her carefully tended life.

  At four o’clock, Emma shut down her computer, pleased that she’d accomplished sixty minutes of writing without interruption. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d consciously refused to write a scene in a senior citizen center. Nope. Straight up fiction with absolutely no basis in her reality. With discipline and determination, maybe she could manage all of her jobs and identities without a colossal screwup.

  She ran a brush through her hair and then slipped downstairs to prepare a snack for Wyatt and the crew, whom she expected would be back by five.

  “Hey, Em, you’ve kept yourself scarce, today,” Andy said, having been waiting for her in the kitchen. “’Fraid I’m going to razz you about last night?”

  “Razz me?” She hoped her face didn’t betray her discomfort. “It was one stupid kiss because I wanted Trip to lose a hundred bucks.”

  “Shit, that just means he’ll be more aggressive at tonight’s poker game so he can recoup the loss.”

  “Sorry,” she smirked. “Honestly, it’s a little ridiculous that my kissing someone causes town-wide shock waves. The rest of you do whatever you want all the time, but I go out on a limb and everyone comes down on me.”

  Andy fell silent, his expression chagrined.

  “You have to admit, it was really out of character.” Andy stepped closer, reaching out to touch her hand. But he pulled back, as if whatever he wanted to say next made him uncomfortable. “Em, all jokes aside, I’m glad it wasn’t more than a dare. Wyatt’s a fun dude, but he’s got a reputation for flings wherever he’s competing. Women are a great way for athletes to release some pressure. I don’t think he’s a bad guy, and I’m sure he’s a lot more exciting than guys like me, but I wouldn’t want to see you misled or hurt. And don’t forget, we local guys will be around after next month.”

  Emma might’ve been upset by Andy’s remarks if she weren’t used to his telling Avery, and sometimes her and Kelsey, about the many ways that men could be disingenuous when it came to women. She might’ve even pumped him for more information if she hadn’t once again gotten that odd feeling that he wanted something more from her.

  No doubt, her chances of a stable, healthy relationship were greatly improved if she chose someone like Andy. She stared at him now, with his boyish good looks and affable smile and almost wished that the long-ago crush she’d had would return. Dating Andy would be so much easier than seeing Wyatt. But that ship had sailed, on both counts. Apparently Emma Duffy wasn’t interested in easy. />
  “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know Wyatt’s not looking for love.” She pretended that she could care less, but her heart dropped as the words fell from her mouth. It hurt knowing she and Wyatt had no future.

  And not just because he’d have no interest. She couldn’t pursue a real relationship with him and keep Alexa Aspen a secret. Emma needed to view the expiration date created by his impending departure as a silver lining, because it meant this fling didn’t require her confession.

  Everything would work out as long as she could convince herself that it didn’t hurt at all.

  “I’m glad to hear you’ve still got a good head on your shoulders.” Andy flashed his lopsided grin before wandering out of the kitchen.

  Emma shook her head. Good head on your shoulders? Hell, if she heard one more comment like that she might fling herself off The Cirque. Sure, those remarks were meant as compliments, but boring was what she heard each and every time.

  For thirty-one years she’d liked being considered a mature, reliable, responsible person. Why, lately, did it chafe her like wet clothes in a rainstorm?

  Emma stirred the hummus she was making, adding cayenne for a kick. She chopped veggies, and toasted some pita bread, then arranged everything onto a big platter and set it on the dining table. Anything to keep busy and leave little room for depressing self-evaluation. Then, like sunlight peeking through a cloud, a little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. At least with Wyatt she wasn’t so dull. He didn’t treat her naughty, spontaneous side like a capital offense.

  Taking advantage of a few extra minutes, she ran upstairs to apply a bit of lip gloss and mascara. She couldn’t change her top or overdo the makeup because Andy would notice and then pity her. A quick glance in the mirror suggested she looked pretty enough, so she headed back downstairs to wait for Wyatt’s return.

  When she reached the lobby, she found Andy engaged in conversation with an attractive, athletic-looking young woman.

  “Hey, Em, this is Jessie Taylor.”

  Emma immediately recognized the woman’s name. Jessie was a competitive boarder and had run in the same circles as Wyatt and Ryder. In truth, her name had been romantically linked with Wyatt’s for a brief time before Ryder’s accident. She remembered because she’d been slightly jealous at the time.

  From behind Jessie’s back, Andy cast Emma a sympathetic glance. “Came to visit Wyatt.”

  The niggling envy from yesteryear surged forward, compressing Emma’s heart into a hard little raisin.

  “Em?” Andy prodded. “Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry. I’ve got so much on my mind.” Aiming for something between polite detachment and friendly demeanor, she stepped forward and shook Jessie’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same.” Like Emma, Jessie had green eyes. No freckles, of course. Silky blond hair only enhanced the young woman’s natural beauty. She looked even younger than Wyatt. Perhaps twenty-two?

  Jessie tucked her hands in her jeans’ pockets and smiled, unaware that Emma could not have appreciated her presence less. “Andy mentioned that Wyatt and Ryder might be back any minute.”

  “They usually return by five.” Emma cleared her throat of the frog stuck in there. “Are they expecting you?”

  “Sort of.” Jessie casually shrugged, her carefree gaze wandering the lobby. “Wyatt texted me when he decided to train here. I live in Durango, so he thought we might hook up if I was around.”

  Hook up? Hook up as in visit, or as in have sex? The image scorched Emma’s lungs like a hot poker, but she wouldn’t let Jessie or Andy see the jab. She had no right to be angry. She and Wyatt weren’t a couple. Of course he’d reach out to an old flame if he knew he’d be nearby. What guy—especially one who needed “to release some pressure,” as Andy had so aptly stated—passed up guaranteed sex? Still, Wyatt should’ve warned Emma that Jessie would be coming.

  Emma—apparently little more than his sexual stopgap until a younger, more compatible partner arrived to replace her. Wyatt had more in common with Jessie, another thrill-seeking competitor, than he ever would with Emma. Jessie led an exciting life and shared his dreams. Emma was too timid to reveal all of herself to her friends and family, let alone race down the side of a mountain.

  Humiliation left her weak-kneed. Her nose tingled, making her want to run and hide. “Well, make yourself comfortable in the front parlor. I’ve got to start dinner.”

  Emma nodded at Andy and Jessie and then bolted to the kitchen. The kitchen that had so often brought her comfort now shrank around her like cellophane wrap. Dammit, she could not fall apart over something so utterly ridiculous. How had she turned into Kelsey in little over a week’s time?

  Regroup, Emma Duffy.

  Methodically, she retrieved the spices needed to prepare the steelhead trout she’d bought for dinner, while forbidding herself from adding eyedrops to the Meyer lemon sauce.

  Wyatt jumped out of the van and high-fived Ryder. “Best day yet, just like I knew it would be. I can’t wait to watch this footage. Did you see the sweet little jump Trip built for me with his shovel? It’s cool to land in soft snow instead of hardpack. Anything about my jumps look troubling on the monitor?”

  “Not really.” Ryder shrugged noncommittally, and Wyatt immediately regretted his insensitivity. Ryder could only stand on the sidelines with his cane and watch Wyatt getting back into the groove. Yet pity would increase Ryder’s discomfort, which left Wyatt perplexed as to how to proceed.

  “When’s your next pottery lesson?”

  “Tonight at seven.” Ryder’s mouth quirked upward, which it so rarely did these days.

  Pottery, of all things. Who’d have thought?

  Emma had. Emma saw things about people that Wyatt missed. She cared about others, whereas Wyatt had lived a fairly self-centered life until Ryder’s accident.

  Looking back, he could see that he’d spent most of his time chasing his goals to make sure he’d never live in fear and uncertainty again. He’d been generous with his money, but not with his time. Until he’d met Emma, he hadn’t considered that maybe time was the most valuable thing he could offer. He could probably learn a lot from her if he chose to explore that path. But that would mean giving up his other goals, which he couldn’t honestly consider.

  “Wonder what Emma’s cooking for dinner?” Wyatt asked, searching for neutral territory with Ryder.

  “Something good.”

  “No doubt.” Wyatt slapped Ryder’s shoulder before grabbing his gear from the back of the van. He’d been focused all day, heart pumping, legs burning up the slopes. Now the thought of Emma had his heart pounding and body burning in a different yet equally satisfying way. He jogged up the steps to catch up to Ryder before he opened the door. “Can’t wait for a shower.”

  “You need one,” Ryder joked, which Wyatt took as a good sign. A near-perfect day, and he planned on an even better night. He strolled into the lobby expecting to see Emma, then stopped in his tracks.

  “Jessie?” Ryder’s voice cracked. “Holy sh-shit.”

  Ryder actually smiled—a real smile—and hugged Jessie. While those two embraced and said hello, Wyatt glanced around for Emma. He wondered if she knew who Jessie was and if she knew anything about his and Jessie’s past. Either way, he suddenly found himself in a tight spot and not at all pleased Jessie’d showed up without any warning.

  Of course, if it hadn’t been for Emma, he wouldn’t have cared about the lack of notice. In fact, he might’ve been happy for her company. Now things were complicated. Not that Emma seemed to be all that invested in him or that he’d made any promises. Still, seeing Jessie here felt wrong.

  Ryder released Jessie, so Wyatt opened his arms to greet her with a hug as well. “Hey, Jess. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  She squeezed him tightly and then planted a quick kiss on his lips. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

  Mari came inside just in time to catch them still arm in arm, her eyes lit with curiosity.
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  Double shit, this would be unpleasant. “Mari, this is an old friend of mine and my brother’s, Jessie Taylor. One of the best boardercross competitors out there.”

  “Jessie Taylor . . .” Mari seemed to be remembering something. She’d researched Wyatt’s past fairly extensively, and he saw the moment her memory snapped into place. “Oh, yes, I remember. You two were something of an item a couple of years ago, just before . . .” then she trailed off, realizing that referencing Ryder’s accident probably wouldn’t win her any friends. “Before Wyatt took a break from competition.”

  “An item? I suppose you could say that.” Jessie’s pretty green eyes twinkled. He’d always liked her pale green eyes. Emma’s were greener, clearer, sharper . . . prettier.

  Naturally, Emma walked in on the scene, her gaze briefly snagging on Wyatt and Jessie’s joined arms.

  “Welcome back, everyone. I’ve set out some snacks.” She gestured toward the dining room, giving no hint of her emotions. “Dinner will be at six thirty. Should I set an extra plate?”

  To everyone else, that breezy voice must’ve sounded normal. But Wyatt instantly detected the detached tone, the rigidity of her spine, and the slight upward tilt of her nose. She’d never admit it, but Jessie’s arrival bugged her. He didn’t want her to be hurt. He needed to fix this before it got out of hand.

  “Jess, go catch up with Ryder while I shower.” Then he called out to Emma’s retreating back. “Emma, that radiator is still acting funny. Can you come take a look now so my room isn’t freezing when I get out of the shower?”

  Emma stopped and glanced over her shoulder, her green eyes clouded with emotion. “I’ll send Andy right up.”

  She’d called his bluff and risked a slew of questions from Andy when he saw that the radiator worked fine. Oh yeah, Emma Duffy was pissed.

  Wyatt refrained from reacting to the snub, aware that Jessie, Ryder, and Mari were all watching him. He brushed aside his own emotions and smiled. “I’ll be back down in ten minutes.”

 

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