After a few minutes, Ruby stopped, her whole body going rigid as her focus shifted to the back of the house. Jase went to grab her but she dodged his grasp and took off for the porch. He called for her but she ignored him as a six-month-old puppy was apt to do.
To his surprise, she slowed down at the top of the patio steps and didn’t bark once at Emily or Davey. His puppy normally gave a vocal greeting at every new person or animal she encountered. She trotted toward Emily, stopping long enough to be petted before moving closer to Davey.
The boy was standing ramrod stiff against the house’s brick exterior, his gaze staring straight ahead. Jase could almost feel Emily holding her breath. Ruby sniffed at Davey’s legs, then nudged his fingers with her nose. When he didn’t pet her, she bumped him again, then sat a few feet in front of him as if content to wait. After a moment, Davey’s chin dipped and he glanced at the puppy. She rewarded him by prancing in a circle, then sitting again. He slowly eased himself away from the house and took a hesitant step toward her.
Ruby whined softly and ran to the edge of the porch and returned to Davey with a tennis ball in her mouth, dropping it at his feet. The ball rolled a few inches.
“She’s learning to play fetch,” Jase called. “Do you want to throw the ball for her?”
Davey didn’t give any indication he’d heard the question other than picking up the ball gingerly between his fingers and tossing it down the steps. Ruby tumbled after it, and in her excitement to retrieve the ball, she lost her balance and did a somersault across the grass. With a small laugh, Davey made his way down the steps toward the grass.
Ruby returned the ball to him and the boy threw it again.
“She’ll go after the ball all night long,” he told the boy. “Let me know when you get tired of throwing it.”
Davey walked farther into the yard.
Jase turned for the patio to find Emily standing on the top step, tears shining in her blue eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked, jogging up the stairs to her side.
She shook her head. “Davey laughed. Did you hear him laugh?”
“Puppies have that effect on people.”
“I can’t remember the last time he laughed out loud,” she whispered, swiping under her eyes. “It’s the most beautiful sound.”
“I’m glad I got to hear it.”
Ruby flipped over again as she dived for the ball and this time when Davey giggled, Emily let out her own quiet laugh. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
Jase wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard his mother laugh, too.”
“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.” She sank down to the top step and Jase followed, his heart expanding as she leaned against him. “He used to laugh when he was a baby. Then things went sideways... He became so disconnected.”
“You’re a good mom, Em. You’ll get him through this.”
She turned to look at him. “Do you really believe that? You don’t think I messed him up by leaving Henry and moving him across the country?”
“You protected him. That’s what a mom is supposed to do.” He tried not to let decades-old bitterness creep into his voice but must have failed because Emily laced her fingers with his.
“How old were you when your mother left town?”
“Nine. My sister was seven. I haven’t seen either of them since the day Mom packed up the car and drove away.”
“Have you ever looked?”
“My mother made it clear any man with the last name Crenshaw was bound for trouble.”
“She was wrong. You’ve changed what people in this town think of your family. She needs to know who you’ve become.”
“It’s too late.”
“What about your sister?”
“I don’t blame her. Who knows how my mother poisoned her against my dad and me. I’m sure Sierra has a good life. She doesn’t need me.”
Emily squeezed his hand. “I didn’t think I needed my family when I left Crimson. I was stupid.”
He glanced down at their entwined fingers and ran his thumb along the half-moons of her nails. “You used to wear polish.”
“You’re changing the subject.” She waved to Davey with her free hand when he turned. The boy gave her a slight nod and went back to throwing the ball.
“I don’t want to talk about my family tonight.” He threw her a sideways glance. “My turn for a pass?”
“Fine. Let’s go back to my former beauty routine, which is a fascinating topic. I had my signature nail color and perfume. I was determined to be someone people remembered.”
“You were.”
“For the wrong reasons,” she said with a laugh. “It’s pretty sad if the thing I’m recognized for is a top-notch manicure and a cloud of expensive perfume.”
“Now they’ll recognize you as a strong woman and an amazing mother.” He leaned closer to her until his nose touched the soft skin of her neck. “Although you still smell good.”
Her breath hitched. “I wish I hadn’t been so mean to you when we were younger.”
“I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”
She turned, and he was unnerved by her serious expression. “I’m not the right woman for you, Jase.”
The certainty of her tone made his gut clench. “Shouldn’t I be the one making that decision?”
“I’m doing you a favor by making it for you.”
“I don’t want favors from you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless they involve your mouth on me. Isn’t that what you told me you wanted?”
Color rose to her cheeks and she dropped her gaze. “Wanting and needing are two different things.”
He wanted to haul her into his lap and kiss that lie off her mouth. It was becoming more difficult to be patient when she was sitting so close that the warmth of her thigh seeped into his skin.
“We should talk about plans for the prewedding parties.” She tugged her fingers out his and inched away from him until the cool evening breeze whispered in the space between their bodies. Jase hated that space. “Since so many of Noah’s and Katie’s friends overlap, I think the bachelorette and bachelor parties should be combined.”
“Makes sense. Party planning is not exactly my strong suit.”
“You’re lucky I’m here.”
There were many more reasons, but she was already spooked, so he didn’t mention any of them. “I can tell you have an idea.”
She flashed him a superior grin. “A scavenger hunt.”
“Like we did as kids?”
“Sort of. We’ll put together groups and give everyone clues to search for items important to Noah and Katie. They both grew up here so there’s plenty of things to choose from.”
“I like it,” Jase admitted.
“Because it’s brilliant.”
“That’s the Emily I know and...” He paused, watched her eyes widen, then added, “like as a friend.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Mr. Perfect and a comedian—quite a combination.”
“We’ve already established I’m not perfect.”
“I like you better as a real person.” She nudged him again. “And a friend.”
As the sun began to fade, they watched Davey throw the ball over and over to the puppy.
“I wonder who will give up first,” Jase muttered. The answer came a few minutes later when Ruby dropped the ball on the grass in front of Davey, then flopped down next to it.
“Wavy-Davey, it’s time to head home,” Emily called to him. “Bedtime for puppies and little boys.”
The boy ignored her and sat next to Ruby, buried his face in the puppy’s fur and began to gently rock back and forth.
Emily sighed. “Too much stimulation,” she said, a sudden weariness in her eyes. �
��You might want to go inside. Chances are likely he’ll have a tantrum.”
“How do you know?”
“The rocking is one of his tells.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I should have monitored him more closely but...” She gave Jase a watery smile. “I was having fun.”
“Me, too,” he told her and lifted his fingers to the back of her neck, massaging gently. “I’m not going to leave you. He’s a kid and if he has a tantrum, so be it.”
“I don’t want the night to end like this.” She walked down the steps slowly, approaching her son the way she might a wounded animal. Jase followed a few paces behind.
“Davey, we’re going back to Grandma’s now.”
The rocking became more vigorous.
“Do you want to walk to the car or should I carry you?”
“No.”
“You can decide or I’ll decide for you, sweetheart.” Emily’s tone was gentle but firm. “Either way we’re going home. You can visit Ruby again.”
Davey’s movement slowed. “When?”
“Maybe this weekend.”
He shook his head and Jase stepped forward. “Hey, buddy, you did an awesome job tiring out Ruby. I bet she’s going to sleep the whole night through.”
“She likes the ball,” the boy mumbled.
“She likes you throwing the ball,” Jase told him. “But even as tired as she is, I bet she’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a ton of energy.”
Davey gave him a short nod.
“Do you think it would be okay if I brought her out to your grandma’s farm in the morning? You can puppy-sit while I go to a meeting.”
The boy glanced up at him, then back at Ruby. He nodded again.
Jase crouched down next to Davey. “I’ll ask your mom if it’s okay with her, but you have to get a good night’s sleep, too. That means heading home now and going to bed without a fuss. Do you think you can do that?”
Davey got to his feet and lifted his face to look at Emily before lowering his gaze again. “Can Ruby come over in the morning, Mommy?”
Emily reached out as if to ruffle her son’s hair, then pulled her hand tight to her chest. “You’ll have to eat breakfast early.”
“Okay.”
“Then it’s fine with me. Your grammy will love to meet Ruby.”
“She can walk with us.” Without another word, he turned for the house. “Let’s go home, Mommy.”
Jase bent and scooped the sleeping puppy into his arms. Ruby snuggled against him.
Emily ran her hand through the dog’s fur, then cupped Jase’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.
“A better way to end the night?” he asked against her lips.
“Much better. Good luck at the breakfast tomorrow.” She kissed him again, then ran up the back steps.
Jase followed with the dog in his arms, watching as Emily buckled her son into his booster seat. He waved to Davey as they drove away.
“You did good,” he whispered to the puppy sleeping in his arms and walked back to his house.
Chapter Eight
“You’re looking at those pancakes like they’re topped with motor oil instead of syrup.”
Emily smiled as Jase spun toward her, almost spilling his cup of coffee in the process.
“You came,” he said.
She glanced around at the basement reception room of one of Crimson’s oldest churches. The last time she’d been here was after her father’s funeral, but she tried to ignore the memories that seemed to bounce from the walls. Instead she waved a hand at the display of Sunday school artwork. “Where else would I be on a beautiful Saturday morning?”
“I don’t really need to answer that, do I?”
“No, but I would like to know why the candidate who sponsored this breakfast is hiding out in the corner? Are you familiar with the term glad-handing?”
“I’m eating breakfast,” he mumbled, pointing to the paper plate stacked with pancakes that sat on the small folding table shoved against the wall. “They’re actually quite good.” He set down his coffee cup and picked up the plate, lifting a forkful of pancake toward her mouth.
“I had oatmeal earlier.”
“Edna Sharpe is watching. You don’t want her to think you’re too good for her pancakes.”
Emily rolled her eyes at the glint of challenge in his gaze. But she allowed him to feed her a bite. “Yum,” she murmured as she chewed. Her breath caught as Jase used his thumb to wipe a drop of syrup from the corner of her mouth.
“Jase,” she whispered, “why aren’t you talking to everyone?”
He dropped the plate back to the table and folded his arms across his chest. “I hate how they look at me.”
“Like you’re Crimson’s favorite son?”
“Like I’m the poor, pathetic kid with the mother who abandoned him to his drunken dad.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “I understand most people in town know my family’s history. But I’ve worked hard to make sure they see me and not the Crenshaw legacy. Now Charles Thompson is leaking small details about my childhood—dirty laundry I don’t want aired—to anyone who will listen. You know how fast those bits of information travel through the town grapevine.”
“So you’re going to let him have the last word? Give up on everything you’ve done for Crimson?”
“Of course not.”
She pointed toward the crowded tables. “Then go visit with these people. Shake hands. Kiss babies.”
“Kiss babies,” he repeated, one side of his mouth curving. “Really?”
“You know what I mean. I understand what happens when you let someone else’s perceived image guide your actions. That’s not who you are.”
“They expect—”
“You’re not perfect. Neither is your history. People can deal with that. But you have to put yourself out there.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“I’m supporting a friend,” she said and straightened his tie.
His warm hands covered hers. “I’m glad you’re here, Em. I could use a friend right now.”
“What you could use is a kick in the pants.”
His smile widened. “Are you offering to be the kicker?”
She nodded. “Katie and Noah are stopping by in a bit and I left a message for Natalie.”
“You didn’t need to. It’s a Saturday morning and they have lives.”
“Support goes both ways, and you’ve given plenty to your friends. They’re happy to return the favor.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. “There wasn’t supposed to be this much scrutiny.”
“Welcome to the joys of a political campaign.”
“And part of a life you left behind.” He bent his knees until they were at eye level. “This isn’t the plan for rebuilding your life.” His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from her face. A flicker of longing skittered across her skin, one that was becoming all too familiar with this man.
“I can help,” she said with a shrug. “It’s what I know how to do.”
He glanced over her shoulder and cursed. “My father is here,” he said on a harsh breath.
Emily could feel the change in Jase, the walls shooting up around him. “You mingle with the voters,” she said quickly. “I’ll talk to your dad.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Too late,” she called over her shoulder. She hurried to the entrance of the reception hall, where Jase’s father stood by himself. A few of the groups at tables nearby threw him questioning looks. Emily knew Declan Crenshaw’s history as well as anyone. The man had been on and off the wagon more times than anyone could count.
Once Jase and Noah had become friends, Emily’s who
le family had been pulled into the strange orbit circling Declan and his demons. Jase had slept over at her parents’ farm most weekends, and she remembered several times being woken in the dead of night to Declan standing in their front yard, screaming for Jase to come home and make him something to eat.
As a stupid, spoiled teenage girl, Emily had hated being associated with the town drunk. She’d unfairly taken her resentment out on Jase, treating him like he was beneath her. Shame at the memory rose like bile in her throat. She’d been such a fool.
Now Declan’s gaze flicked to her, wary and unsure behind the fake smile he’d plastered across his face. Without hesitating, Emily wrapped him in a tight hug.
“Jase is so glad you could make it,” she said, loud enough so the people sitting nearby were sure to hear.
“You’re a beautiful liar,” Declan murmured in her ear, “and I know you hate these events as much as I do.”
She pulled back, adjusted the collar on his worn dress shirt much as she’d straightened his son’s tie. Declan would have been a distinguished man if the years hadn’t been so hard on him. “Maybe not quite as much. I wasn’t very nice, but at least I never embarrassed the people who loved me.”
“Good point,” he admitted with a frown, his shaggy eyebrows pulling low. “But things are different now. I’m sober for good. Am I ever going to live down the past?”
“I’m more concerned Jase feels the need to live it down for you.” She led him toward the line at the pancake table.
“I know what Charles Thompson is trying to do.” Declan picked up a paper plate and stabbed a stack of pancakes with a plastic fork. “It’s my fault and it’s not fair.”
“Life rarely is.” Emily took one pancake for herself. “We both know that.”
“You’re good for him.”
She shook her head. “I’m not. As small of a community as Crimson is, the life Jase has here is still more public than I’m willing to handle.”
Declan greeted the older man standing behind the table wiping a bottle of syrup. “Morning, Phil.”
Always the Best Man Page 9
