Bad Reputation

by Jessa James

  “It’s very real,” I say, holding out my left hand. “Jameson made it official a few days ago.”

  “Jameson— Emma— what the fuck??” Asher says, anger tingeing his voice. “How could this happen?”

  I step closer to Jameson, my cheeks burning. “You had to know how I’ve felt about about Jameson for all these years.”

  Jameson cuts in. “I’m sorry that we broke your rule, but I’m not sorry about finding happiness with Emma. She makes me happy, Asher.”

  For a second, I think that Asher is just totally going to lose his shit. Every muscle in his body is clenched tightly, and he’s looking at Jameson like Jameson just betrayed him. When he speaks, it’s with a barely contained rage.

  “I don’t even know you anymore,” he says to Jameson. “I’ve felt like that for a while—”

  “You mean ever since you got back together with Evie and didn’t need me anymore?” Jameson growls.

  If looks could kill, the one passing between Jameson and Asher right now would be deadly, without a doubt.

  Asher looks at me pointedly. “Our parents will never allow this.”

  That is low, even for him. Asher doesn’t even speak to our parents anymore! “Really? That’s your tactic here? To invoke what our parents may do?”

  “I’ll tell them,” Asher threatens. “I’ll tell them you’re actually so confused as to think that you are marrying him. You know that he’s— he’s not like us!”

  “What, rich and privileged?” I spit back. “Jameson’s doing just fine by my book.”

  Asher levels a look at Jameson. “You’re basically guaranteeing that Cure doesn’t last another year. You know that, right?”

  Jameson glares at him. “Who do you think made this place so great? It wasn’t you, that’s for damn sure. If Cure goes under, I will just start another business, one that isn’t tied to your dirty family money.”

  “That’s it! You two are fucking making me crazy!” Asher yells, bursting past us both, headed for the front door. “Good fucking luck not running this place into the ground.”

  As I watch, Asher pushes open the door, and slams out of the building. I look to Jameson, my eyes a little wide.

  “Did he just quit the business?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Jameson says. “And… I hate to say this, but you had better call your parents. Tell them that you want to meet them as soon as you can. I think it’s better if we tell them about our engagement, rather than just hearing Asher spouting off about it.”

  Oh god. That’s a lot of people that will be angry at me, in such a short time. I feel like there is a huge lump in my throat.

  A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. I bite my lip, holding onto Jameson’s arm. “Are you okay?”

  Jameson looks down at the ground. “Yeah. I mean, it sucks that my best friend acted like that, but… I’m doing okay.”

  “I’m sorry that Asher was an ass. You don’t deserve that, at all.” I lace my fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze.

  Jameson shrugs. “Honestly, it went better than I expected. I thought he was going to take a swing at me and say horrible stuff. Instead, he just said horrible stuff.”

  I give him a faint smile. “I know. Still… I’m sorry, anyway.”

  He leans down for a kiss, slow and hot, making my toes curl up. “I still get you. Asher will come around eventually, or maybe not. But either way, I still get the girl. I’m the winner here, I think.”

  I beam at him, my heart swelling. “I really love you.”

  “And I love you. I keep telling you, I’m in this for the long run.”

  And for the first time, standing in Cure, I let myself really, actually believe him.

  27

  Jameson

  I straighten my tie again as we walk into Lyre, the fancy restaurant that Emma’s parents chose to meet her at. As Emma gives her name at the hostess stand and the hostess ushers us onward through the restaurant, I can’t help my racing heart.

  I put my hand onto Emma’s lower back as we walk, unnerved. She’s wearing a lemon yellow dress, and I’m wearing a full suit. I’m fucking sweating, and not just because it’s hot outside. I won’t show it outside, but in my head, I’m all but shaking with my fear.

  I know how this will probably go. In all likelihood, her parents will see us together, see us touching, and get angry. They’ll know who I am; after all, they kicked me and my brothers out of squatting on their property no less then four separate times.

  They’ll know that I come from nothing. They’ll know that I’m not good enough for Emma, and that my childhood poverty is only one of the reasons that makes me unworthy.

  And if Asher had anything to say about it, I’m sure that his parents already know that their family money financed Cure. So even the bar, which is definitely my baby, wont really help me out here.

  I am second guessing myself, second guessing everything I am, on this walk through the tables. Everything sort of blurs as we walk: the white linen tablecloths, the patrons talking, the faint chime of glassware and tableware being moved around. It only occurs to me when we see Emma’s parents that I’ve not only agreed to live out my worst nightmare, but I encouraged it.

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  But then there they are, the Alderisis. Albert is in his late fifties, tall and heavy and silver at the temples. Nancy is a few years younger, and thin as a dagger in her pink dress. My mouth goes dry, my expression hardens.

  I see them spot me. I see her father take in the way I’m touching her back. It takes them both a second to place me, but when they do her father turns red and her mother’s nostrils flare.

  I know that I’m a grown ass man, but in that moment, I’m also a scared little boy. I’m praying that they don’t kick my family out of our temporary home.

  Emma stands up a little straighter as we approach. Albert throws his linen napkin on the table and starts to stand up. Emma forestalls him with a gesture.

  “You both remember Jameson, don’t you?” she says.

  I slide my glance to her, impressed by how ice cold her tone has become. She primly presses her lips together for a second, waiting for them to speak. Her parents just glower at the two of us.

  “Emmaline…” her mother says, her voice high pitched. “This is inappropriate. We should talk about this privately, just the three of us.”

  “You are fooling no one, young man,” her father says to me. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here with my little girl--”

  “Talk to me!” Emma says, loudly enough to make the couple seated at the next table stare. “If you have something to say to Jameson, you can address it to me. There’s no reason to drag him into the dirt.”

  “Emma—” her father says, standing up. “I swear to god, you need to quit playing games, here.”

  Emma’s jaw juts out, and she cocks her hip. “My relationship with Jameson is serious. Dead serious. As in, I’m wearing his ring, kind of serious.”

  Nancy gasps, her hand flying over her mouth. Albert begins to sweat, his veins in his forehead popping out.

  “You listen to me, little girl,” he sneers.

  “No!” Emma says.

  “Em—” I try to interject, but she shoots me a look that makes me shut up.

  “Listen to me,” she says, taking my hand. “You already lost Asher over trying to dictate who he could and could not marry. Anything you do to punish me? It will only drive me away, just like it did with him. Are you ready to do that?”

  Her father loses his shit. “You foolish little—”

  “Stop!” Nancy shouts, drawing the eyes of everyone in the restaurant. She stands up, folding her napkin and putting it on the table. “Would you two like to sit?”

  “Like hell they’re going to sit!” Albert growls.

  Nancy looks at him, and there is something that passes between them, some sort of argument. After a second, it’s clear that Nancy wins. She turns to us with a frosty smile.

>   “You’ll sit, won’t you?” She motions to the two unoccupied chairs at the table.

  I blink, confused. Albert is still furious and red, but he just sits back down, yanking his napkin off the table. Nancy continues to look at us questioningly.

  I look to Emma, who looks like she’s just won some kind of war. “Are we going to sit?”

  “Yes, I think so.” Her lips curve upwards in a smile.

  I pull out her chair for her, and then sit beside her. Nancy sits too, tucking her napkin back on her lap.

  “Champagne?” Nancy asks, her expression unreadable. “One should toast good news, like that of being engaged. Right?”

  “Right,” Emma says lightly. “We definitely should.”

  Her mother snaps her fingers, calling for the waiter. When Emma picks her menu up, I can see her trembling. I stare for a second, then reach out and cover her shaking fingers with my own.

  Emma looks at me. For a moment, I can see everything she has been hiding since the moment we walked into this restaurant. The fear, the pain, the anxiety, all pent up.

  She was just as nervous as I was, just as afraid. She just spoke up anyway.

  I kiss her knuckles, unbelievably glad that I somehow got so damned lucky to be with this incredible, amazing girl.

  And I know that with every bit of my soul, I will do my best to keep this girl safe and happy.

  Forever.

  Want more? Read an excerpt from How To Love A Cowboy

  Pete

  I closed the ledger and leaned back into the rich cherry colored leather of the desk chair. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, thinking about how much easier things had been when my father was around running things at Killarny Estate. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t become accustomed to over the years. Being the oldest of the five Killarny brothers, it was expected from birth that I would be the one to take over the day to day running of the ranch. While all the brothers were equal partners in running the ranch, it was I who was the most responsible. Ask anyone. It was also me that my dad had turned to back when my mother, Emily Killarny, had first been diagnosed with breast cancer.

  At my mother’s request, I took on the additional tasks that my father had usually taken care of. Most of it was business, the sort of thing that didn’t capture my attention quite like the quiet, meditative work with the horses, but I knew what had to be done. Most of all, I hadn’t wanted to let my mother down.

  Emily Killarny was a force unto herself, but she had a kind and good heart, and above all, she loved her children. I was aware that I had a special place in her heart when she had gone out of her way to be the best kind of grandmother she could be to Emma. I’d been dejected and alone, raising a two year old daughter alone after my ex-wife, Kelly, decided one day that motherhood and married life wasn’t for her. My parents had been so kind to us in the days following that abandonment, and I would forever be grateful to both of them. My mother had especially done all that she could to make sure that Emma felt safe and loved after her mother’s abrupt departure.

  Back then my major responsibilities had been tending to the horses, something I still loved and wished I was able to do more of, but being the oldest, and since my father had relocated to Costa Rica, I knew I had to be the one to step up to the plate. My mother’s death three years prior had taken a toll on the family patriarch, and after suffering a severe bout of depression, he finally decided to make some major changes. One of those changes included leaving the states and relocating to a warmer climate, leaving the green Kentucky hills behind him in favor of sun and sand. Some days I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of that, but I knew that my heart would always be right here, wherever Emma was.

  I opened my eyes again and looked at my computer screen for a moment before getting up and heading for the door, grabbing my jacket on the way. There was still a chill in the air that early in the Kentucky spring and it was invigorating to step out into the morning air, breathing in the fresh smell of new grass and the less pleasing scent wafting from the nearest barn. The smell of manure might not have appealed to everyone, but for me, it was a reminder of home and childhood.

  I breathed in the air and made my way over to the stables where my brother Alex was brushing out the coat of a two year old mare.

  “She looks beautiful,” I said as I came up to stand on the other side of the stall door.

  Alex nodded. “Siobhan is quite a looker.” He brushed her russet coat to a glistening sheen that caught the early morning sun and made the horse look like a copper penny.

  “You think we’ll run her next year?” I asked him as I looked over the horse from nose to tail. She was beautiful, but I wasn’t sure if she was one of the horses that we would end up taking to the many derbies we were involved in.

  Alex shrugged. “Not sure. She hasn’t been run that much, and I really think that if we had planned on doing that with her, she should have seen a little more practice at this point in her life. I think she is a great horse, but I’m not sure the derby life is the one for her. However, I do think she is going to give us a lot of talented foals.”

  Alex was probably the quietest of all the brothers, so hearing him talk this much was a little unusual. The only time Alex had much to say was when he was talking about a horse. Not much for words and usually keeping to himself, he was definitely the most horse whisperer like among us and was more involved with the training of individuals here at the ranch. He was so in tune with the horses that it helped to have his expertise around to help people become accustomed to green horses. While most of our horses were bred here on the ranch, we did keep a group of wild ponies from the Dakotas on one of the spreads of land that was fenced off from the rest. Alex’s house was out there and visiting that part of the ranch felt like entering a wilderness. I could see why my parents had given him that parcel when they were divvying up the land to us. It fit my younger brother’s personality perfectly, and he was never happier than he was when he was among the wild horses.

  “Her mother is Spring, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah, and her father was David’s Lariat.”

  David’s Lariat had been one of Alex’s favorites. A horse that my father had acquired from a Colorado ranch when we were still very young, the horse had been a monster of an animal when we got him. He stood taller than any of our other horses but managed to be faster than almost any horse half his weight. He was a marvel and had produced many of our fastest horses. David’s Lariat had died just a year before, but we still had a few of his offspring around the ranch and would likely see his influence in our derby horses for decades to come.

  “Well, even if she isn’t going to run for us, she’s a beautiful girl, and I’m sure she’ll give us a few great runners.”

  “What are you up to?” Alex asked as he put away the brush and stepped out of the stall to join me where I stood.

  I shrugged. “Just needed to get out of the office for a little while.”

  “Already?” He looked at his watch. “It’s early in the day. Why don’t you hire someone to take care of some of the stuff you don’t enjoy? That’s what bookkeepers are for, after all. It would give you a break and let you have a chance to get back out here with the horses where you want to be.”

  Alex was perceptive with more than just the horses.

  “Yeah, well, I might do that after the next couple of derbies have passed. I’ve got too much on my plate right now to hand it over to someone totally new.”

  My brother sighed and shrugged. “Whatever you say. Just don’t be afraid to ask for a little help when you need it.”

  I gave him a firm pat on the back and continued on down through the stables, past the stalls that housed our many horses. A few of our ranch hands were leading some of the horses out to graze in the pasture, while some of them were headed to the arena and our track for training. As I exited the other end of the massive stable, I saw Emma atop her horse, Saoirse.

  “How’dya do, Miss Emma Lou?”

  Emm
a frowned at me, and I could see her brow furrowing under her helmet. I knew she hated it when I referred to her middle name, Louise, but told myself that someday she would come to think of it as endearing, so I kept up the practice.

  She tossed her head back. “Saoirse and I just went out for our morning run. I was about to take her back to the stable and then head in for my lessons. Is Hetty here yet?”

  I shook my head. “She wasn’t there when I left the house, but there’s a good chance she’s arrived by now. Better hurry on back, you don’t want to be late.”

  My twelve year old daughter beamed at me from where she sat on her horse and headed into the stable before dismounting. I watched her lead her young horse into the stall and couldn’t help but notice how much she was starting to look like her mother. It wasn’t a bad thing, but I did wonder how Emma would feel as she looked in the mirror and started to notice the resemblance she shared with the woman who left her—and me—behind when Emma was just a toddler.

  I walked toward the pasture as I recalled the time directly after Kelly left. It had been a shock to me when it happened, but when I had a little time to think it over, nothing about it was too surprising. We had married straight out of high school, and my parents had been opposed to the match from the start. Kelly’s parents were business owners in the nearest town, and ours had been the kind of wedding that made the local papers. Our courtship had been brief — we dated at the end of high school, and because I was an idiot, I had proposed to Kelly not long after graduation. We married and moved into a house here at Killarny Estate and had had a hell of a time for the first couple of years.

  Kelly was wild and looking back I could tell she had been just a little too wild for me. It wasn’t something I had noticed at the time, and while it was just the two of us, it was easy to forget that we were stepping into a new world that included all sorts of new responsibilities. Back then we would spend our weekends hopping around the bars in town before heading back to the privacy of our house at the ranch and going at it like rabbits. It was no surprise when Kelly got pregnant, and I was overjoyed, but she didn’t seem too enthused about it. Slowly she warmed to the idea, and once Emma was born, I could see that she really did love our daughter.