Falling for the Rebound Bride

by Karen Templeton

  Especially to a guy who hadn’t had any in a while. And who, up to this very moment, had been perfectly fine with that. Or at least reconciled to it. Not liking at all where his thoughts—let alone his blood—were headed, Colin looked back at the chicken in his hand. “Hey,” he said, realizing he looked about as dumb as a person could look. He finally tossed the chicken in the cart, then looked back at Emily. Because what else was he supposed to do? Unfortunately, she still looked good. Especially with that amused smile.

  “I’m, uh...” He waved at the half-filled cart. “Stocking up.”

  “Us, too. I promised I’d cook while I was here. In exchange for...” She flushed slightly. “It just seemed fair, that’s all. Especially since Josh has his hands full with ranch stuff this time of year, and Dee’s getting her gallery set up in town.”

  “Her gallery?”

  “That’s what she did, before she moved back. Worked at a gallery. Doing acquisitions and such. But this one will be all hers, showcasing local artists, she said. I figured I could at least help out while I was here. Instead of playing the guest.”

  Colin nodded. “You know how long you’re gonna be here?”

  “I’m...playing it by ear.”

  “You don’t have a job or something to get back to?”

  “No, actually. Not at the moment. I mean, I did, until...” Looking away, she rubbed her nose, then poked through the packages of ribs. “These are really good done in the Crock-Pot.”

  “That so?”

  “You should look online, there are tons of recipes.” By now not even the sucky florescent lighting could wipe out her blush, which started at her neckline and spread to her eyes, making him think of other kinds of flushes, which in turn made him seriously consider sticking his head in the nearest freezer case. “Well. I’ll leave you to it. See you around?”

  “Sure.” Oh, hell, no.

  Clutching her package of ribs, she walked away, her very pretty butt twitching underneath a layer of clingy denim, her hair all shiny and bouncy underneath the lights. Colin would’ve groaned, but that would’ve been pathetic and juvenile.

  But far worse than the kick to the groin was the tug at something a bit farther north, where empathy had staked a claim all those years ago. Because he could—and would—ignore the butt and the hair and, okay, the breasts pushing against the sweater. But those eyes...

  Damn it. A blessing and a curse, both, being able to sense another’s pain.

  Especially when combined with the helplessness of knowing there wasn’t a single damn thing you could do to alleviate it.

  So. New goal, he thought as he pushed the cart up to the cashier, relieved to see the two women had apparently already checked out. Stay out of Emily Weber’s way as much as possible while she was still here.

  Which, with any luck, wouldn’t be very long.

  * * *

  Limbo.

  That was the only way to describe her current state of mind. Or current state, period, Emily thought as, breathing hard, she completed the loop around the ranch she’d been running every day for the past week. Oh, she’d been keeping busy for sure, cooking and cleaning and playing with little Austin and baby Katie, who was teething and drooly and fussy and absolutely adorable when she wasn’t screaming her head off. And at least—she rounded the training corral between the main house and the old foreman’s cabin—the stress and heartache were easing up...some. Although why she’d thought a week or two away would heal her, let alone really fix anything, she had no idea. At some point she’d have to return to real life, face her parents and her friends and everything she couldn’t face before. As it was, she was ignoring her mother’s calls, which had become more frequent because Emily was ignoring them. Although unfortunately she hadn’t yet found the cojones to delete Mom’s messages without listening to them.

  Then again, maybe listening to them was proof she had more balls than she was giving herself credit for—

  “Oh!”

  Her cry wasn’t enough to scare off the coyote, although the thing did glance her way, as if to ascertain whether Emily was worth its consideration. The critters weren’t really much of a threat to the horses, apparently—at least, Josh only shrugged when she’d told him she’d also spotted one on her last run—but City Girl Emily still felt it wise to steer clear.

  Until she noticed something fuzzy and small in the dirt about ten feet from the coyote. A possum? Squirrel? She couldn’t tell. But the gray varmint, who’d clearly decided to ignore Emily, was closing in, and—

  “Get out of here!” she yelled, flapping her arms like a madwoman and running toward the whatever-it-was, startling a bunch of birds from the top of the nearest piñon and spooking a trio of horses in the nearby pasture. “Go on! Get!”

  The coyote hesitated, giving her a what-the-hell? look.

  “I said—” Emily snatched a fair-sized stone off the ground and hurled it with all her might at the animal, where it pinged harmlessly in the dirt three feet in front of it, raising a cloud of dust. “Get!”

  And damned if a spurt of pride didn’t zing through her when the thing actually took off, loping up the road without looking back. Her heart hammering in her chest, Emily approached the small, now whimpering animal, her chest fisting when she realized it was a puppy. What kind and how old, she had no idea. And what to do next, she had even less. But she had to do something. Unfortunately, Dee and Josh were running errands separately with the kids, and while she knew Josh’s brother Zach had his veterinary practice in town, she had no idea whether he was there or not. Besides which, her cousin and her husband had taken both trucks—

  The puppy released the most heart-wrenching, plaintive cry ever, and Emily sank cross-legged onto the dirt to pull him into her lap, which was when she noticed dried blood on one of his paws. She carefully touched the spot and the poor little thing cried out in obvious pain. Damn. Hauling in a breath, Emily glanced over at the foreman’s cabin a hundred or so yards away. The rental car was there, meaning Colin was probably home, but...

  She gingerly hugged the mewling baby dog to her chest, stroking his soft fur and making soothing, if probably unhelpful noises. Despite Colin’s living within spitting distance of the main house, they hadn’t seen each other since that silly encounter in the grocery store. Dude had serious hermit tendencies, apparently. Although truth be told, given her reaction to him back there in the meat department Emily had been just as glad. Not because of the silly, awkward part, but definitely because of the dry-mouthed, wanting-to-plaster-herself-against-him part. Which flew in the face of everything she was. Or thought she was, anyway. As in, logical. Levelheaded. Not given to fits of insanity.

  Never mind that simply sitting here thinking about Colin’s mouth and jaw and eyes, ohmigod, and that little hollow at the base of his neck was making her feel as though molten ore was flowing through her veins.

  “Jeez, girl,” she muttered. “Get over it.”

  As if it was that easy. Because despite keeping busy, and running her butt off every day, and her determination to not think about her shattered heart and the bozo who’d shattered it, her heart had other ideas. In fact, the longer she was away, the more hurt and angry she got that she’d been played for a fool. That she’d let herself be played for a fool, taking the path of least resistance because...why? Because everyone else had been happy?

  Clearly, she needed to majorly overhaul her definition of that word. Not to mention her expectations, she thought as her mouth twisted. Meaning she knew full well all this fizzing and bubbling was nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction to Michael’s betrayal, a primitive—and completely ludicrous—urge to get even.

  The pup whimpered again, nuzzling her collarbone...

  Telling her wayward loins to shut the hell up, Emily heaved herself to her feet, the puppy cradled against her chest, and marched toward the cabin
.

  She thought maybe this was called taking back the reins.

  * * *

  Colin nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught Emily standing outside the front window with something furry clutched in one hand, waving like crazy at him with the other. And apparently yelling. Ripping out his earbuds, he set aside his laptop and reluctantly pushed himself off the leather couch, not even bothering to adjust his expression before opening the door. It’d taken two days before the right words had finally started to settle in his brain to accompany this particular photo. And now they were gone. So, yeah. Pissed.

  Emily’s flinch—and blush—should’ve given him more satisfaction than it did. Instead he felt like a jackass. For about two seconds, anyway, before all the reasons he’d gone out of his way to avoid her this past week came sailing back into his befogged brain. Because of that blush, for one thing. That her running togs left little to the imagination, for another. Toss in exercise glow and whatever the hell that scent was that she wore, the one that marched right in and rendered him an insentient blob of randy hormones, and—

  His eyes dipped to the puppy, looking about as blissful as Colin imagined he would be cuddled against those breasts.

  “Some coyote was trying to get him, or at least that’s what it looked like, and I think he might be hurt but I don’t have any way of getting him to the vet. If your brother’s even at the clinic.”

  Colin dragged his gaze away from the pup—and her breasts—and to her eyes, a move which jarred loose his libido’s stranglehold long enough for Oh, hell, to play through his brain.

  “Let me see,” he said, his knuckles grazing those breasts—damn—before he took the dog from her and carried him into the house. Emily followed, shutting the door behind her and sitting across from Colin when he sat back on the couch.

  “Heaven knows how he got here—”

  “Dumped, probably. It happens,” he said to her stunned expression, then tenderly examined the bloodied paw. The pup whimpered again.

  “Don’t think it’s broken, but I’m not the vet.” He paused, gaze fixed on the dog and not on those worried blue eyes. Clearly his afternoon was shot. Not to mention his resolve. “I had dinner with Zach and them the other night, he said he’s in the office every afternoon, all day on Saturdays, so...” Still holding the pup, he got to his feet. “So let’s go get this little guy fixed up.”

  “Oh! Um...” Emily stood as well, rubbing her hands across her dusty bottom. Colin looked away. “If you’d lend me the car, I could take him, you don’t have to come. I mean—” There went the pink cheeks again. “It’s pretty obvious I interrupted you. I’m sure you want to get back to work.”

  She had. And he did. However...

  “You know where the clinic is?”

  “In...town?”

  Pushing out a sound that was half laugh, half resigned sigh, Colin walked over to the door, snagging the keys off the hook that’d been there probably from long before he was born. “Somebody needs to hold the dog. And it’ll be quicker since I actually know where the clinic is. So come on. Unless...” Against his better judgment he gave her outfit a cursory glance. Okay, maybe not so cursory. “You want to change?”

  She pff’d. “I think as long as I’m not naked, I’m good.” And, yep, she blushed again. “What I mean is...”

  “I know what you mean,” Colin said, swinging open the door and handing back the pup as she walked through it, and her scent walloped his senses, making all those hormones laugh their little hormoney butts off.

  * * *

  Clinging to the bandaged-up pup wearing his Cone of Shame, Emily climbed back in the car, waiting while Colin chatted with his brother, who’d followed him out of the clinic. Hard to believe they were related, frankly, Zach’s slender build and straight dark hair making him look nothing like big, solid, curly-headed Colin, a beard-hazed cherub on steroids. It was good, though, to see Colin actually laughing as he talked with his brother, and the genuine guy hug they exchanged before Colin got back behind the wheel.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, earning her a frown as he rammed the key in the ignition.

  “Hugged my brother?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No. Paid the bill. Especially since I suckered you into going to the vet with me.”

  “Is that what you did? Suckered me?”

  The humor in his voice made her feel better than it should have. “Whatever,” she muttered, and he actually laughed. He backed out of the space in front of the office, then turned toward the center of town, glancing over at the dog. Who, clearly worn-out from his ordeal, had passed out in her lap.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “How do you think?” she said, and Colin chuckled again. But other than a sprain and a fairly minor wound, probably caused when the poor dog got dumped, he was fine. Or would be, once he got fattened up a bit. Although who was going to be doing the fattening hadn’t been decided yet. Male, about eight weeks, unchipped—no surprise there—indeterminate breed. Wasn’t going to be small, though, Zach had guessed. Emily frowned. “Who’d get rid of a dog they’d already had for a couple of months? And why at the ranch?”

  Beside her, big shoulders shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t the original owner. Maybe whoever’d been given the dog decided they didn’t want him, figured the ranch was as good a place as any to leave him.”

  “I can’t even imagine.” Lowering her stinging eyes to the pup, she toyed with one silky, floppy ear. “At least when I had to give up my dog,” she said through a constricted throat, “I made sure he went to a great home. I didn’t simply dump him somewhere and leave it to fate.”

  A moment’s silence preceded, “You had to give up your dog?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed out, facing out the windshield again. The puppy whooped in his sleep, making her smile. “This little mutt I’d rescued after I first moved into my own place. Barnaby. But Michael was allergic.”

  “Ah.”

  Amazing, how much meaning the man could cram into a single syllable. Despite the tightness in her chest, Emily smiled. “It made sense at the time. And it was an open adoption. I get pictures. Updates. He seems happy enough. Especially since now he has kids to play with. But my point is, if I had any idea who tossed this one like he was a piece of trash, I’d rip ’em a new one—”

  Colin’s stomach rumbled so loudly the pup lifted his head.

  “Sorry,” Colin muttered. “I hadn’t bothered with breakfast, and then you showed up with fuzzy-butt there, and...” He shrugged. His stomach growled again, making the puppy yip and growl back. Sort of.

  “Okay, that’s settled,” she said. “You know where Annie’s is?”

  “Of course I know where Annie’s is—”

  “Good. Then let’s go. Since the least I can do is feed you, after everything you’ve done. Unless you really need to get back right away?”

  “No, that’s... I mean...” His hand tightened around the wheel. “Now that you mention it, I could eat my weight in tamales right about now. And it’s not as if I’m on a time clock or anything. I can stay up all night to catch up if I want. So...sure. Why not?”

  Then he tossed a brief grin in her direction and she thought, And you’ve gone and done it now, girl, haven’t you? Although what, exactly, she’d gone and done, she wasn’t entirely sure. But whatever it was, her own stomach was fussing up a storm, too. And not from hunger. Not that kind of hunger, anyway. And yet his accepting her offer pleased her beyond all reason.

  Not to mention that smile.

  Honestly. The man was the world’s suckiest curmudgeon.

  “So you know Annie’s?” he said.

  “Since one of your sisters-in-law works there, I most certainly do,” Emily said as they pulled into an empty space in front of the diner, across from the town square. But even after cutt
ing the engine, Colin stayed behind the wheel, one hand resting on the top as he stared out at the nondescript whitewashed building. Shadows from the trees in the square, however, flickered across the giant plate glass window, as well as the trio of small tables and chairs set up to take advantage of the warmer weather, lending, if not exactly charm, at least a certain comfortable unpretentiousness that was very appealing. Especially considering the slew of fancier restaurants in town that catered more to the ritzy ski resort patrons than locals. But that was just it: while the pricier places might make their clients feel indulged, Annie’s Diner made a person feel like family. As though you’d come home. Emily liked that.

  Unbuckling her seat belt, she cast a sidelong glance at Colin and asked, “When was the last time you were here?”

  “Too long,” he said on a telltale sigh.

  Emily shifted the puppy, who’d conked out again. “We certainly don’t have to eat here, if you don’t want to. I hear that new Asian fusion place is pretty good. Although we’d probably have to leave the dog in the car—”

  “What? No, this is fine. And I somehow doubt I can get tamales at the Asian place.” Finally, he unbuckled his own seat belt. “But we should probably eat outside. Because of the dog. If it’s warm enough, I mean.”

  In the sun it was. Emily set the sleeping dog on one of the unused chairs, swiveling it around to make a nest between the building’s wall and her purse, which she’d grabbed before they’d headed into town. Not ten seconds later, however, they heard a muffled shriek from inside the restaurant, followed by one very excited Annie barreling outside, arms outstretched and babblings of joy tumbling like a waterfall from her mouth. Whatever Colin’s reason for leaving Whispering Pines, it sure wasn’t because nobody liked him.

  The small woman yanked him into her arms, held him back, cackled out, “Holy hell, it’s really you!” then yanked him back down again, wisps of her salt-and-pepper hair escaping her messy bun. And Colin, bless his heart, hugged the woman back. She released him again, smacked his arm, then folded her arms across her flat chest, shaking her head. “I’d about given up on ever seeing you again. What brings you back now, after all this time?”