by Amy Marie
The smile showed in his eyes as he pulled her body just a little bit closer to his. When he spoke again, his mouth was so close to her ear his warm breath tickled her ear.
“Do you love him?”
She instinctively pulled back slightly, but he didn’t release her; didn’t so much as loosen his grip on her.
“What kind of question is that?” She was shocked, horrified even that he’d ask her that.
“Should be the easiest question you’ve ever answered.”
Her heart stopped. Literally stopped. He was right; why was she hesitating?
“Judging by your lack of an answer, I’m going to take it as a no.”
Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him. Still, she said nothing for far too long. It was his damn hand on her hip. It was making her crazy. His long fingers had moved slightly, and everywhere he touched left a burning trail. A trail leading straight to parts of her body he hadn’t touched. Parts she wanted him to touch. Wait. No! She didn’t mean that.
“I’m sorry, but you don’t know me.” At least, she didn’t think so anyway. “And you certainly do not know who I love.”
Something about his smugness and certainty on the subject of her love life pissed her off.
“Tell me, Emmason, have you ever been in love?” His tone was mocking,
Why did this man seem to think he could say or ask anything he wanted? And all while holding her as close as a lover. She tried again—unsuccessfully—to pull away, but he held her there. Her blood boiled at his comments.
“I have most certainly been in love.” The face that came to mind wasn’t Roland’s, but that was likely because Ryder was her first love.
“Just not now.” His statement was so matter-of-fact, she seriously considered slapping him. If it wouldn’t have caused a commotion, she would have. Still, his voice remained barely above a whisper. “Because if that man is your great love, well, that would be unfortunate.”
What was she supposed to say here? She loved Roland, didn’t she? They’d been together for over two years now; marriage was the next step. Their relationship was perfectly acceptable.
Perfectly acceptable? Good Lord, that was her description of her relationship with the man she was going to marry?
“You deserve more.”
He was so close…was he going to kiss her? She wanted him to kiss her. “Who are you?” Her words were a whisper and for a moment she felt like she’d been setup. Who was this man who saw right through her?
As if summoned by the fact that she was melting beneath a stranger’s touch, Roland appeared at her side. “Mind if I cut in?”
Yes, she minded. Had it not been for the fact that someone was paying attention to her, he would have gone the whole night without so much as a cursory glance in her direction.
She didn’t say that, and as much as it pained her, she took a step back and released her mystery man, turning her attention to Roland. “This is my fiancé, Roland Spurlock, Roland, this is…” She paused, waiting for him to take the hint and introduce himself.
“You’re a lucky man,” he said instead and walked away, his hand moving from her waist, and for the briefest moment, moving lower across her ass before he was out of reach. “Goodbye, Buttercup.”
Wait… Did he call her Buttercup? Only one person had ever called her Buttercup. Ryder. And that was years ago. Surely, she didn’t hear him correctly. The words had left his mouth under his breath as he was walking away from her. It couldn’t be him. Her skin burned, her face flushed… She hoped Roland didn’t notice.
Roland wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close so they could dance but said nothing. She was trying to think of something to say, but she couldn’t seem to get her brain to form any rational thoughts. The song wasn’t over when someone grabbed Roland’s attention.
“I need to go make myself known,” he said, offering no further explanation as he left her there, alone on the dance floor.
Chapter 5
Emma
Days had passed since the masquerade ball but Emma’s head was still whirling from everything that happened that night. She even checked all the various social media sites for some indication Ryder was in New York. None of it made any sense. After what her mother had done, there was no chance he would ever want to see her again. Still, those blue eyes were so familiar, she couldn’t shake her suspicions.
When her phone rang, she had half a mind to ignore it and let it go to voicemail, but the area code gave her a pause—714. Anaheim, California. Her mother. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in over two years, but given the fact that she was on a conquest of sorts to get her life in order she picked up the phone.
The voice that greeted her wasn’t her mother’s, and she had to have the person introduce themselves twice, the first one not registering at all. An attorney. Deceased. The will. Land. Texas.
Nothing was making sense. Her mother was gone.
She sat at her desk but couldn’t focus on anything. Giving up on the concept of work, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door. It wasn’t quite four in the afternoon, but work was caught up, and she needed to get some air. What she really needed was to have that talk with Roland that she’d intended to do the night of the mascaraed ball. Now, she needed to tell him about her mother. They’d already had the funeral. There was nothing to say goodbye to.
Even more confounding was the fact that with her mother’s death she’d inherited land in Texas. Land that her mother had taken after a nasty divorce, land that belonged to the MacIntoshes.
After walking around aimlessly, she found herself in front of Roland’s building. Looking up at the high rise, she tried to contemplate how their conversation would go. The doorman and elevator operator both greeted her by name as she headed up to Roland’s floor. She tried to imagine what it would be like living in this building. It was beautiful, sure, and she liked everyone who worked here, still it all seemed too stuffy to her. That, and she hated how everyone else treated the employees like “the help.” It was a bit disconcerting.
Not expecting Roland to be home yet, she let herself inside the apartment, dropping her purse on the kitchen counter and slipping out of her heels before checking the refrigerator and cabinets for something to cook him for dinner. She didn’t cook for him often, as he usually preferred to go out to eat. His mother’s comments at the shower might be the catalyst for this impromptu dinner, but she didn’t give that prospect much thought. She needed to keep herself busy.
When she heard something in the apartment, she froze, her brain needing a moment to process the sounds she hadn’t expected in what should be an empty apartment.
Silently, she made her way through the kitchen to the large living room area. The place looked more like a staged apartment, one that was designed to look luxurious but not at all lived in.
She should call out, but the suspicious part of her refused to make a sound. She needed to see this with her own eyes. She needed to see it, or he would be able to convince her that she’d misinterpreted the situation.
When she reached Roland’s bedroom, the door was slightly ajar, the moaning sounds so close she could have stopped there; she knew what was happening.
She held her breath as she silently pushed the door open.
She froze. Maybe her heart was frozen, too, as her hand went to her chest, her breathing caught behind the large lump in her throat. Roland was in his bed, a blonde woman straddling him, her hips flexing against his as the sheet rested just above her hips.
The gasp that left her mouth came as much of a surprise to her as it did to Roland, and the platinum blonde bitch on top of him. Her eyes moved between the two of them, stunned. The woman smiled. Smiled as she looked over her shoulder at Emma while Roland appeared more…agitated.
After too long, likely only a few moments but what felt like five minutes, Emma turned and ran from the apartment. She was in shock, yes, but she wasn’t crying. Why wasn’t she crying? She grabbed her purse from the counter
but didn’t bother with her shoes. They would take too long and right now she just needed out of there.
She glanced behind her. She didn’t want to see Roland, didn’t want to hear his explanation. Only, he wasn’t chasing her. He hadn’t so much as said her name.
Twenty minutes later, she was in her apartment. As she paced her living room, her mind raced. She was angry. God, was she angry. Disgusted, embarrassed, and a little sick to her stomach. What wasn’t there spoke volumes. She wasn’t heartbroken. Maybe that came later?
Her phone vibrated, and the ringtone assigned to Roland echoed through her small apartment. She laughed. The sound that came from her lips was bitter, but a laugh nonetheless. He was just now calling? She’d fled her fiancé’s apartment twenty minutes ago after catching him in bed with another woman, and he was just now calling? Had he finished first? Her stomach rebelled.
Swallowing down the nausea, she went to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of vodka from the freezer. She wasn’t one for shots, but she was out of cranberry juice and wasn’t willing to take the time to make herself a cocktail. She took a swig from the bottle while pulling a shot glass down from the cabinet above the refrigerator. Sitting at the table, she shot back a few more before fetching her phone. Another laugh escaped her lips as she deleted her notifications and blocked Roland. That last part didn’t seem necessary. How many times would he call? Given the fact that he hadn’t followed her and took the time to get off before even calling her, she wasn’t expecting him to blow up her phone.
An hour later, Sommer arrived, a bottle of tequila in tow. The plan was to make margaritas, but as Emma replayed the day she’d had, the concept had been forgotten and replaced with more shots.
“What are you going to do?” Sommer’s mouth dropped open in shock once the Roland situation had been laid out.
“Well, I already quit my job.”
The decision to leave the company that Roland’s family owned was an easy one. There was a side to her, and hopefully not the more rational side, that knew better than to make such a big decision hastily. Still, she didn’t have one ounce of regret. Maybe now was the wrong time to make such a choice, but finding your fiancé in bed with another woman certainly made you take a look at your life and the decisions you make.
“Are you sure it’s wise to make career decisions after everything that happened today?”
When Emma started to answer Sommer cut her off, “And not just the whole Roland thing, but with your mom passing as well.”
“Leaving Locke Pharmaceuticals is the right decision despite the circumstances.”
“I could kill him,” her friend muttered.
“Well, better to happen now, I suppose.”
Sommer stared at her with concern, and Emma laughed. “I mean finding out he’s a cheating, asshole liar, not the killing him part.”
“Right.” Sommer laughed, but her relief was evident. “Well.” She refilled their shot glasses and held hers up in the air. “Here’s to true love.”
True love. She didn’t need to clarify it, Sommer meant what was to come, not what had just died between Emma and Roland. Still, when she spoke those two words, it was Ryder that came to mind first.
“There’s something else,” Emma confessed, all the alcohol and soul-searching no longer allowing for omissions.
“There’s more?”
Emma told her friend about the land her mother left her, land that she had no other choice but to return to the rightful owner.
“I’m going to go back to Texas to sign over the deed to them.”
“Okay… I get that you feel this”—Sommer paused,—“moral obligation, but given the fact that you just quit your job, maybe selling it is a better option.”
Silence filled the room as Emma thought through her response.
“And why would you need to go all the way to Texas just to sign the land over?”
Emma let out a long exhale. She’d never told her story to another person. Never so much as spoken it aloud. Yes, there was shame involved, fear of what other people would think, and while she doubting anyone would understand, she, along with Ryder, were both innocent.
Moving into the living room with their bottle and shot glasses in tow, Emma took a seat on the floor, and Sommer sat on the couch in front of her.
“My mom and I moved to Jackson, Texas, just before my freshman year of high school. The town was tiny and I was completely out of my element there.” She picked at the rug but smiled at the memory of being so out of place.
“It took a while for me to adjust, and I struggled to make friends at first. I met Ryder in a class, and he was your typical cocky, sure-of-himself cowboy. He was gorgeous and confident in a way I’d never seen before.”
Sommer smiled and pulled a pillow into her lap.
“He was intimidating in just about every way. Popular, when I was still without friends, smart, and oh my God the looks the girls would give me when he talked to me. And no matter how many times I rejected him, he just kept asking me out.”
“I like him already.” Sommer laughed.
“You would like him,” Emma confirmed. “You guys are a lot alike in terms of your bold personalities.”
Waning insult, Sommer pressed her hand against her heart. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or—”
“No, it’s a good thing.”
“Anyway, carry on. He wouldn’t stop asking you out, so you finally accepted?”
“I did. Turns out he lived on a ranch, and when he found out that I wanted to learn to ride, well, he found his in. After that, we were inseparable. He taught me how to ride, and I spent every minute with him when I wasn’t in school or sleeping. The ranch is on thousands of acres, so we would just get lost in it. Riding, swimming, hiking…it didn’t matter really as long as we were together.”
“This is the sweetest story,” Sommer gushed.
“Yeah, just wait,” Emma warned. “So, he was my first everything. First real kiss, first love, and the person I lost my virginity to. He was a virgin, too, and we waited until our junior year.”
“No judgment here, I lost my V-card when I was fifteen in the back seat of a Ford Focus.”
They both laughed, but as if Sommer could sense that the story was getting ready to turn, she sobered. “What happened?”
“My mom, being, well, my mom, had her sights set on husband number three. When things didn’t work out between the two of them, I was certain she was going to want to leave Texas and find our next adventure, a.k.a. her newest rich husband prospect. But she didn’t. I thought maybe she felt bad for being the way she was and decided to let me stay at my school since it was my last year.”
Emma had told Sommer enough stories about her mom for her to know that the woman didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. If Marian was doing something it was because it would benefit her, and her alone.
“Staying in Texas at that point ended up being the worst thing that could happen. Ryder’s dad, Bill, was like a father to me. I spent the better part of the previous three years with the two of them nonstop, and when strangers thought I was his kid, he didn’t correct them. He always treated me like I was his daughter.”
“After my mother’s future husband fail, she was more available. The stupid kid in me that was still seeking my mom’s attention and embraced the fact that she was around more, and since I was always with Ryder, that meant being around Ryder and Bill.”
“Oh no.” Sommer’s shoulders slumped as realization hit her. “She didn’t.”
“Yup.” Emma nodded bitterly.
“The summer before my senior year was the whirlwind romance of Ryder’s dad and my mom. I hated her for it.” Time did nothing to heal the betrayal that burned through her veins.
“At first I wanted to say something to Bill, tell him all the terrible things my mother had done to men before him, how her only goal in life was take advantage of rich men before taking off with their money, but I just couldn’t.”
“It was
your mom,” her friend reasoned.
“Maybe. Part of me was too embarrassed to tell him who she really was. I didn’t think he’d ever look at me the same way if he knew the kind of person I came from.”
“What about Ryder? He had to know.”
“He did, and he tried. Bill just thought Ryder couldn’t get over the fact that he’d moved on, being that Ryder’s mom had died years prior. Bill was just blind when it came to my mom. Stupidly, I thought that maybe she’d finally seen the error of her ways. I mean, Bill was amazing. Just one of those genuinely good people. I thought my mom was actually happy with him, and I tried to accept the fact that I couldn’t stop what was happening between them. In true Marian fashion, they were married before school started my senior year.”
“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” Sommer clasped her hand on Emma’s shoulder.
Emma only shrugged. “Ryder rationalized that we didn’t need to end our relationship, since we weren’t blood relatives, and for a minute I believed him. We lived under the same damn roof, so it wasn’t like it was easy to just forget our relationship and the previous three years. Then, school started.”
“Shit.”
“Yup,” Emma agreed.
“Kids are assholes.”
“Oh, you have no idea. In a town with that few people in it, we were certainly the talk. They were relentless. ‘What’s up, brother fucker?’ ‘Should we be expecting any two-headed babies anytime soon?’”
“I couldn’t do it anymore, and all that love I had for him, mixed with the rage of the situation, it just sort of merged into hate.”
Nodding in what seemed like understanding, Sommer wiped a tear from her eye.
“It got to the point where we couldn’t be in the same room together without fighting. His friends hated me; my friends hated him. My senior year was hell. By graduation, all the plans we’d made together were gone. The concept of going to college together, getting married, all of it was gone. I went as far away as possible and never went back.”