Make Me Love You

by Elizabeth Bright

  Mostly body, actually. Who knew being mayor was such a physical job? Her arms and shoulders still ached from scrubbing and painting the streetlights. Now in addition to that, her feet ached from walking up and down Main Street, talking to the owners of each and every business along the way.

  Cesar had taken full responsibility for the food truck, roping in his grandson, who was a few years younger than Emma, to help. They were doing little better than breaking even there, but it was hard work now that they no longer had an easy setup. But that would change, she hoped, once she got the bed and breakfast up and running.

  The first thing she had done, after leaving Eli Saturday morning, was submit her paperwork to City Council to get on the ballot. Well, no. The very first thing she had done was fume and cry to Suzie and Kate about how unfair Eli was, although she neglected to mention the kiss. Then she submitted her paperwork. From there, she hit the ground running.

  And it was a lot of running.

  If Hart’s Ridge was going to get tourist money, those tourists were going to need a place to stay—something slightly classier than Goat’s Tavern. And that meant turning her home into the bed and breakfast of her parents’ dreams.

  It was surprisingly fun, picking out new furnishings for the guest bedrooms. Cost was a factor, but she had savings. So long as her plan worked, she could recoup the cost with future customers. Of course, if it didn’t work, she’d be screwed. And broke.

  And her dad—

  And Hart’s Ridge—

  She gritted her teeth. No. She wasn’t going down that path. Everything was a risk, sure. Success wasn’t guaranteed. But failure was guaranteed if she did nothing. Not just for her, but for Hart’s Ridge.

  They were all in this together. There was no other way. With that in mind, she headed for Goat’s Tavern.

  The moment she crossed the threshold, nostalgia made her insides ache. Years ago, when they were kids and this was nothing more than a ramshackle barn, they all used to hang out here for long stretches of lazy hours—Eli, Luke, Suzie, and her. Luke had done a lot of work to turn it into a tavern when his parents had made the decision to retire from farming, but the bones remained the same. In fact, they had left their mark on one of these walls. It must still be here, somewhere. It was hard to get a sense of where, exactly, because Luke’s decorating taste seemed to be “more is more.”

  The tavern was decorated for the holidays—all of them. Christmas lights were strung up behind the bar. Some of the tables had Halloween-type centerpieces, and some had Easter bunnies and eggs. Patriotic bunting in red, white, and blue lined one wall. It was...a lot. But somehow it worked. The whole place looked cozy and festive.

  “Emma Andrews, it’s about time you came to see me! Get your tiny ass over here and give me a hug.”

  Emma laughed. She wasn’t tiny, but she supposed that compared to Luke, everyone was. At six-three, he looked like he had just stepped out of a lumberjack catalogue, if there was such a thing. There ought to be, because she had the feeling that most women and some men would pay good money to see Luke Buchanan, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, chopping wood. Or whatever it was lumberjacks did.

  She let him lift her off her feet in a big hug. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “How are you, Emma?” He set her down on her feet again, smiling. “Let me tell Ethan to take over the bar, and we can catch up.”

  “Actually, I’m here on business.”

  His smile cooled. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Right. Okay. What can I do for you, Acting Mayor Andrews?”

  Guilt hit her hard. There wasn’t anything wrong with catching up, was there? They had been friends once, great friends. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t talk anymore. No, that was on her. He had never taken sides. She was the one who refused to see him again, because she was afraid of running into Eli. And now she had gone and hurt his feelings. He deserved better than that.

  “We can talk business later.” Impulsively, she reached out and squeezed his arm—or tried to, anyway. It was like squeezing a rock. “Let’s catch up first.”

  “Awesome. I’ll tell Ethan. What are you drinking? You want something to eat?”

  “Vodka soda, light on the vodka because I’m driving. I already ate dinner, but I’ll take some sweet potato fries. I’ve heard they rival Delmy’s yuca fries.” Emma considered herself a connoisseur of fries, and she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to try Luke’s, no matter how full she was.

  “You heard correctly. Grab that table in the corner and I’ll join you in a minute.”

  “Great.” She took a step and then paused, looking around, and called after him, “Hey, Luke, where’s—”

  “Under the dartboard.” He grinned at her surprised face. “You’re asking about our initials, right? I wanted them protected. You’ll notice that there have been a lot of initials, and some profanities, added to these walls since then. So, under the dartboard, where the filthy animals couldn’t get to it.”

  Hearing evidence that underneath the mountain man exterior still beat the most sentimental heart this side of the Mississippi made her chest tighten. Why had she stayed away for so long?

  Because you’re a terrible friend, that’s why, came the accusing voice of her conscience.

  She could fix that. She would just...add it to the list of everything else she needed to get done. She only had five minutes to contemplate how, exactly, she would do that when Luke returned with her vodka soda and a beer for himself.

  “Fries will be out momentarily,” he said, sliding onto the seat across from her.

  “Great.” She raised her drink and gave an appreciative nod. “Thanks.”

  He took a swallow of beer, then leaned back in his seat with a smile. “So, Madam Mayor. How did that happen?”

  Emma groaned, dropping her face in her hands. “Can you believe it? Me, mayor. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. Asking me to be mayor and Ethan to be deputy mayor, now that was ridiculous. He hates people, especially if they want something from him. But you? You have a way of making things happen. You always have.”

  “What about you? You made this happen.” She gestured to the room around her. “This place is amazing.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty happy with it.”

  “Who is Goat? Did you pick up a new nickname since I last saw you?”

  He shook his head with a laugh. “No. Goat is Goat. I’ll introduce you before you leave.”

  “Sweet potato fries.”

  Emma looked up at the sound of a familiar voice to see Luke’s younger brother balancing a platter of food. “Hi, Ethan.”

  He set the platter down in front of her. The spicy-sweet smell made her mouth water. “I thought he must be lying when he said you were here. I had to see it for myself.”

  She cringed inwardly at the unspoken accusation. Ethan was another innocent casualty in the war between her and Eli. “Well, here I am.”

  “Yeah.”

  He didn’t say anything else, just stalked back to the bar. Emma bit her lip, watching him go. How many people had she hurt, when she cut Eli from her life?

  “Don’t mind Ethan,” Luke said. “That’s just his way of saying don’t stay away so long next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time. Promise.”

  He reached forward, gave her hand a squeeze. “Good.”

  “Well, this sure looks cozy. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  Emma looked up to see Eli, arms crossed over his chest, mouth pressed into a firm line, dark eyes glittering. Even without his uniform on, power and authority rolled off him in waves. She snatched her hand back like she had been caught raiding the cookie jar before dinner.

  “Hey, man. I was hoping you would swing by tonight,” Luke said. If he noticed the air had suddenly gone thick with tension, he didn’t show it. He cocked his head at Emma. “You should have brought Suzie along. We could have made it a reunion.”

  Eli contin
ued to glower. “I didn’t expect to see you here. It doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”

  Emma narrowed her eyes. “And what kind of place would that be?”

  “Wherever I’m not, would be my guess. But you know I come here. You know my friends come here. Which means this isn’t your kind of place.”

  The tension rolling off him gave her pause. Was he seriously mad that she had encroached on his turf? What did he think, exactly? That she was here to turn Luke against him? Rude. It occurred to her that once upon a time, she had done exactly that—with Suzie, not Luke. But that was when the wound was still fresh and she was still young. She wouldn’t do that now. She might want nothing to do with Eli, but she wouldn’t dictate who other people could see.

  “I like it here,” she snapped back. “I like Luke.”

  Luke beamed. “Of course you do, honey.”

  Eli clenched his jaw so tightly she could see the muscle tic in his cheek. “Outside. Now,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

  She stared at him with patent disbelief. “You must be joking. In the first place, because you do not get to order me around like I’m your lapdog. I am your boss now, thank you very much. Secondly, my fries would get cold, and cold fries are disgusting. And lastly, nothing good can come of me following you into the dark where there are no witnesses.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you chicken, Ms. Andrews?”

  It was exactly what he had said three days ago, right before she had grabbed him by the face. Right before the kiss. Was it rage or lust that made her cheeks heat from the memory? A combination of both, probably. That seemed to be the way of things, when Eli was around.

  “Your schoolyard taunts have no effect on me. I am an adult.” But because this was so obviously a lie—schoolyard taunts always got a rise out of her—she slid from her seat and stood. “Fine. We’ll talk outside. Don’t go anywhere, Luke. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  “It will take longer than that,” Eli said. “You might as well go back to the bar.”

  Emma spun furiously to face him. “I am here to discuss business. Don’t get in my way, Eli.”

  She pivoted on her toes and stalked toward the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the dartboard. She hated to ruin her dramatic exit, but she couldn’t resist taking a quick peek. She lifted the dartboard and peered underneath.

  There they were, four sets of initials, carved into the wooden beams. Suzie had encircled them with a heart, because Suzie was like that. Emma slid the dartboard back in place with a hollow feeling in her stomach.

  Funny how the marker of their friendships had outlasted the friendships themselves.

  Chapter Nine

  Eli knew what Emma was looking for when she lifted the dartboard, but he didn’t know if she would find it. He hadn’t seen it for himself in five years, when Luke hung the damn thing after it became apparent that hikers liked to leave their own marks. For all he knew, five years of dart games had worn their initials smooth. Or maybe the wall was so scratched and scuffed that their initials weren’t readable.

  It was hard to tell by her subdued reaction. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown. It was a strange response for Emma. Her emotions were always close to the surface. Fury, ecstasy, despair, whatever she was feeling was usually written all over her face. But now her expression was carefully blank. It was unlike her, and it made him nervous.

  She pushed open the door, leaving her palm against the rough wood just long enough to keep it from slamming shut in his face. He grinned to himself as he followed her into the warm darkness. Even pissed as hell, Emma couldn’t bring herself to be rude.

  The second the door closed behind them, she whirled to face him. “Well?” she demanded. “You have five minutes, Eli. My fries are getting cold.”

  “You—”

  Eli broke off, nodding a polite hello to a twenty-ish man who looked like he hadn’t seen a brush or razor in a month—which he probably hadn’t. Thru-hikers weren’t known for their stellar hygiene. He grabbed Emma by the elbow and steered her around the corner, out of the yellow circle cast by the cast-iron lamps guarding the doorway. Random hikers might not care who they were, but plenty of nosy locals would be thrilled to have something to gossip about.

  “Why are you here, Emma?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Business, like I already told you.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Business? I’m the deputy mayor. I know it’s weird because we’re running against each other, but I should still know what’s going on.”

  “It’s not mayor business. It’s my business.”

  “You mean the food truck?”

  “No, I mean—” She paused, cocking her head to the side so her hair spilled over her shoulder. “I guess I didn’t tell you. I’m turning the house into a bed and breakfast. I had this idea, that if people aren’t coming to Hart’s Ridge for work anymore, well, then maybe I could get them to come here for fun. And while they’re here, they would need a place to stay, so I might as well get paid, too. The house would be a source of income instead of another bill I have to pay. Plus it would give Dad something to do when he gets home.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “I’m all for people coming to Hart’s Ridge for a good time and staying at your B and B. But how are you going to get them here? We don’t have a resort like Piedmont. I mean, we have the same exact mountains as them, but no one even knows we’re here. What’s the plan, Emma? Because I know you have one.”

  She lit up like the finale Fourth of July fireworks. Christ, she was beautiful when she was excited about something.

  “That’s the best part. Have you noticed how busy Dreamer’s is lately? Demy says it was all because of that girl who was here from L.A. We saw her taking pictures of her food, remember? Anyway, she has, like, two million followers on social media. She posted a picture of Demy’s food, and suddenly everyone within an hour’s drive of here showed up. I was thinking I could invite her back for the Fourth of July celebration, give her a free stay at the B and B, invite a few others like her, and boom. Business for Hart’s Ridge. I mean, I hope so, anyway. What do you think?”

  The question hit his bloodstream like a double shot of whiskey, making him feel a little unsteady on his feet. She cared what he thought?

  “I think it’s worth a shot. It could work. Yeah.” It would take a lot of work, for sure, but Emma had never shirked from hard work—witness her determination in tackling the streetlights on Main Street. And he would help her, if she would let him.

  But maybe she had someone else in mind. Luke. Was that why she was here tonight? His gut twisted. “So what does all this have to do with Luke?”

  Her light dimmed slightly at the question. She crossed her arms, mimicking his posture. “You don’t need to get all proprietary about Luke. I’m not going to take him from you. I know what I said eight years ago, but I’m not twenty anymore. He can be friends with both of us.”

  “I’m not being proprietary about Luke. I’m being proprietary about you.” He leaned in, close enough that she could see the seriousness of his expression. He wasn’t playing around here. It wasn’t a game to him, and he wanted her to know that. “I don’t want you here because I don’t want you flirting with him. I don’t want him touching you.”

  He watched her blink in confusion as she tried to make sense of his words. “I can flirt with whoever I want. But...I wasn’t flirting. We were always just friends.”

  “You were just friends then. Now, he looks like he does and he knows it. I’m pretty sure there’s a note about him in all the Appalachian Trail guides. Stop by Goat’s Tavern in Hart’s Ridge. Have a beer and bang the owner.”

  Emma snorted with laughter. “Okay,” she admitted. “Maybe I’ve heard a rumor here and there. Luke is certainly, um, popular with women. But that doesn’t mean—” She broke off, frowning. “What’s that noise? Is that...do I hear a goat?”

  A goat? Oh, shit. He turned so fast he nearly gave
himself whiplash, eyes straining to see in the inky darkness. “Where? I don’t hear anything.”

  “Huh.” They were both silent, listening. “Maybe I imagined it?” she said uncertainly.

  “Maybe.” But Eli wasn’t about to let his guard down just yet. The little bastard could be anywhere.

  And then he heard it: The unmistakable crunch of a hoof on gravel. Slowly at first, one deliberate step after another, and then suddenly picking up speed as the beast broke into a run. Eli searched frantically through the darkness as the sound came closer. There. A few yards behind Emma, head lowered to better make use of its horns.

  “What in the world—ahhhhh!” Emma ended on a shriek as Eli scooped her up in his arms.

  “Not today, Satan!” he hollered.

  Goat apparently disagreed. He rammed Eli behind his knees, sweeping his legs out from under him. With Emma still in his arms, he rolled mid-air, ensuring that he hit the ground with his shoulder, rather than his back or, God forbid, Emma. By some miracle they fell onto the patch of soft grass rather than the gravel. She landed with him, her head cradled by his bicep, her legs thrown over his thigh.

  “What. The. Hell,” she gasped out. “What was that?”

  Eli couldn’t speak. The wind had been knocked out of him. A triumphant baaaaa from Goat echoed through the darkness, followed by the rapid retreat of hoofbeats.

  Emma lifted her head. “Eli?” she asked, her voice shrill. “Are you alive?”

  “Garghhhhh,” he grunted.

  “Oh, thank God.”

  The relief in her voice made him stupid. Made him think that maybe it wasn’t so bad, being knocked flat on his ass by a psychotic goat.

  “What was that?” she asked again.

  He struggled to get his breath before answering. “That,” he panted, “was Goat. As in, Goat’s Tavern. Luke found him when he was nothing but a baby, had to bottle feed him and everything. No idea where he came from. Has a nasty habit of knocking people behind the knee. Thinks it’s hilarious when they fall.”