Falling for the Rebound Bride
Page 6
Almost grateful for her apparent invisibility, Emily wondered if Annie noticed the change in Colin’s expression, like a lightbulb not firmly seated in its socket. Huh. “Working on a book,” he said, his hands stuffed in his back pockets. “Figured this was as good a place as any.”
She also caught a flicker of skepticism—as though she didn’t quite believe him—in the older woman’s expression before she lit up again. “You may not know this, but your mama and daddy are real good about keeping everybody in the loop, showing off your work to anyone who’ll stand still long enough for them to shove it in their face. Whole town’s proud of you, boy.”
Adorable blush, Emily thought a moment before Annie seemed to realize Colin wasn’t alone. “Oh, my word, Emily—I didn’t even see you sitting there! I’m so sorry! Didn’t know you were back in town. But...wait.” Confusion blossomed in her eyes for a moment as she looked back and forth between Colin and her. “Did you two come together?”
Emily laughed. “Long story. And solely because of this guy,” she said, pointing to the puppy.
“What on earth...?” Her arms still crossed, Annie came closer. “Where did this little thing come from?”
“The ranch. Somebody abandoned him there, we think. So we brought him to Zach to get checked out.” Emily bent at the waist to cup the little guy’s head inside the cone. “Now we have to figure out what to do with him. I do, anyway. Since I found him.”
Annie shot her a look that said her “answer” had only provoked five times more questions. About what, Emily could only guess. But all Annie said was “Meaning you don’t want to keep him.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just...that would be tricky. Since, well, my life’s kind of all knotted up right now.”
“What with you getting married, you mean.”
“Um, actually...” Emily said, and Annie let out a soft groan. Because women understood these things before they were said out loud.
“Oh, honey...no.”
“Yep.”
“I’m so sorry.” The older woman leaned over to pull Emily into a hug before looking back up at Colin. “And I’m guessing you can’t take the dog, either.”
His brow furrowed, he glanced over at the puppy. “Since I’m rarely in one spot longer than a few weeks...no. I can’t. But maybe Josh and Deanna will take him.”
“They might at that. If not, I’ll be happy to put the word out, see what comes of it.” Annie looked back down at the dog, chuckling as he twitched in his sleep. “Sweet little guy. Somebody’s gonna love you, for sure. And for goodness’ sake, y’all don’t have to stay out here if you don’t want to! Charley Maestas brings his dog in here nearly every day, nobody cares. Least of all AJ and me.”
Colin chuckled. “Isn’t there some kind of ordinance against that, unless it’s a service dog?”
Annie swatted away his objection. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Unless you two would prefer to dine alfresco?”
“Actually...” Emily lifted her face to the sun, enjoying its sweet caress, a welcome reprieve from the bitterly cold spring winds that had assaulted the landscape every day since she’d come. “I wouldn’t mind. But it’s up to you,” she said to Colin.
Whatever was going through his head, she had no idea. Although she was guessing quite a bit, judging from the look in those weirdly light eyes.
“Out here’s fine,” he said, a sudden breeze ruffling his curls.
Which oddly made Emily shiver.
Chapter Four
“You sure?” Emily said, and Colin tamped down the sigh a nanosecond before it escaped. Because hell no, he wasn’t sure. Of anything, to be honest. On the one hand, there’d be other people inside. Other conversations, other noise, other distractions. Out here, it’d just be the two of them. And a comatose dog in a cone. Not much of a chaperone.
“Positive. Since now that I’m out...” He glanced toward the park across the street, where a host of dripping cottonwoods, their branches laden with the beginnings of their electric green summer attire, seemed to worship the clear blue sky. Innocence, he thought, wondering where the hell that had come from, before returning his gaze to Emily’s and seeing much the same thing there. Or...not? “It occurs to me I’ve been cooped up too long.”
“All righty, then,” Annie said—hell, he’d nearly forgotten she was there—then she took their orders: tamales and refried beans for Colin, a BLT for Emily. Colin waited to sit until after Annie went back inside, where they heard her bark their orders to her husband, AJ. Emily grinned, then leaned over to soothe the tiny beast, quivering in his sleep, and something clenched in his chest.
“I still can’t believe your fiancé made you get rid of your dog.”
Not that it was any of his business what’d gone on between this woman he barely knew and some dude he didn’t know at all. But Colin couldn’t help it, he had real issues with one member of a couple dictating what the other could and couldn’t do. Or at least making them feel bad about it. Meaning from the moment she’d told him about her dog, annoyance had latched on to his brain worse than a goathead sticker.
Emily’s brows lifted, disappearing underneath those wispy, goldish bangs as Annie swept out, plunked down two glasses of iced tea and straws, and disappeared again. After a moment Emily pinched three fake sugar packets from the container on the table, ripped off the tops and dumped the crystals into her tea. “I told you,” she said as she stirred, “he was allergic.”
“There’s stuff you can take for that, you know.”
Her spoon clanked when she set it on the saucer. “He tried, actually. It made him too sleepy to function. And I think that’s called compromise.” She took a sip of the tea. “Or don’t you believe in that?”
“Compromise is working out an agreement where nobody loses. In my book, anyway.”
The pup twitched in his sleep; Emily picked him up, tucking him under her chin. Not easy with that damn plastic thing around his neck. Colin could have sworn the dog grinned. “Is that even possible?” she said, her gaze touching his. “I mean, aren’t there inevitably going to be times when somebody has to capitulate? Besides, it was only a dog.”
Except, judging from her voice’s slight quaver, it was a pretty good guess her words weren’t exactly lining up with whatever was going on in her head. Not that he didn’t know—all too well—where she was coming from. A thought that was clearly hell-bent on resurrecting old regrets of his own.
Like his agreeing to this meal, for one thing. Colin lifted his own tea to his mouth, took a long swallow. “Like hell,” he said softly, setting down the glass, “that it was only a dog. And in any case...”
“You don’t have to say it,” she said with a short, harsh laugh. “But at the time, the dog was the only issue—” Clamping her mouth shut, she shook her head. “I can’t believe I was such an idiot.” Then she shoved out a short, dry laugh. “Or that you’d be even remotely interested in the soap opera that’s been my life lately.”
A waitress—young, pretty, perky—appeared with their food, setting down the piled-high plates with a flourish before bouncing back inside. Colin picked up his fork and attacked the tamales. As in he ripped them to shreds. As much as part of him wouldn’t mind doing that to Emily’s ex. Ignoring the last part of her comment—because as long as they talked about her, they weren’t talking about him—he said, “And I’m gonna stick my neck out here and say it wasn’t you who was the idiot.” At least that got a little laugh. “Hell, Emily—everybody makes mistakes,” he said quietly. “Bad choices. Don’t beat yourself up.”
His face heated. And not only because of the hot-as-hell tamales. And what with them sitting out here in the sun...he was pretty sure she noticed.
But all she did was set the puppy back on the chair and pick up her overstuffed sandwich to take a huge chomp, sending mayonnaise
squirting down her chin. Unfazed, she wiped up the mess with her napkin, then sat back in the chair, her arms folded across her ribs as she chewed. Thinking, no doubt. As one did when they had a brain. Which this gal obviously did.
“Yeah, well,” she finally said after she swallowed, “giving up the dog was the least of it.”
Colin frowned. “What else?”
“Teaching.” She picked up the sandwich again and took another, neater, bite. “Kindergarten. Because Michael didn’t think I should work.”
“And what century is this again?”
Her mouth twisted. “His family is ridiculously traditional. Even more than mine, which is saying something.” She stared at her plate for a long moment before saying, “It’s funny how people assume if you grow up privileged, for lack of a better term, that you’re spoiled.” Her eyes lifted to his, the space between her brows pleated. “Especially if you’re an only child. Not that it’s not true, at least on the surface. Certainly I always had whatever I needed. And got a lot of what I wanted. To pretend otherwise would be disingenuous. But weirdly what made me happiest wasn’t the stuff, it was making sure everybody else was happy.”
“Even if that meant giving up something that was so important to you?”
Yep, he might’ve sounded a little pissed there. If Emily noticed, however, she didn’t let on.
“Apparently so,” she sighed out. “So naturally it made sense to carry that mind-set into my marriage. Although to give myself some credit, I figured I could talk him into letting me go back into teaching after we got married. So dumb.” Her mouth screwed up again. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Colin said, shoveling in another bite of his lunch. Breakfast. Whatever. “Like I said, you’re hardly the first person to...”
“Screw up?”
A dry chuckle pushed from his chest. “Funny how it’s a lot easier to tell someone else not to beat themselves up than it is to take your own advice.”
“Truth,” she said, lifting her tea in a mock toast. Then she frowned. “Nobody’s perfect, you know? And Michael and I were attuned to each other’s quirks, I suppose. We...” Her eyes met his. “Things were okay between us. Okay enough, anyway.”
“Aside from the dog. And his making you give up your career. And his screwing around on you.”
Another short laugh pushed through her nose. “When you put it like that...” She finally took a swallow of her tea. “I guess I figured the pluses outweighed the minuses. Well, until the final bombshell, which pretty much cleared the scoreboard. But in the beginning...oh, my gosh, our parents were thrilled. In fact, I think they were more caught up in the fairy tale than I was. The socialite’s daughter marrying a US senator’s son...cue the happy Disney critters flinging sparkly confetti, right?”
Colin almost smiled, but only because Emily did. “When did you find out?”
“About the cheating?” She took another bite of her sandwich. “A few weeks ago. By accident. He’d left his phone out, and I caught part of a text I doubt he’d expected me to see.” Colin’s brows slammed together. “Not the brightest move in the world. On his part, I mean. Although considering how relieved he looked when I confronted him, frankly I think he let things slip on purpose. Especially when he said that, actually, things would be easier now that I knew.”
“Easier? For whom?”
“Exactly,” she said. Only this time, he heard—saw—the scarring behind the innocence. Not to mention a worldliness he wasn’t sure how he’d missed. Recently acquired though it may have been.
“And how long were you two together?”
“Three years. I know. Although he swore they ‘only’ reconnected in the last year or so.” Her mouth twisted. She looked back at the dog. “In every meaning of the word reconnected.” She met his gaze again. “He actually promised it was over,” she said, then pff’d a little laugh. “As if I’d actually believe him? Not hardly. Oh, and it gets better. It’s someone else he’s apparently known since college. An old girlfriend. Or something.”
Shrugging, Emily picked up her sandwich again, poking a bit of bacon back inside the bread before taking another bite.
“You seem amazingly calm about the whole thing.”
She pff’d again. “I’m nothing if not a product of my upbringing. Never let ’em see you sweat and all that. Inside, though, trust me—it feels like a nest of pissed-off rattlesnakes. Especially since...”
This time, her blush was so furious Colin briefly wondered if she was okay.
“Emily?”
But she shook her head. “Never mind.”
And Colin thought he’d wanted to smack the guy senseless before. Yes, despite having no clue what lay behind that never mind. Because her red cheeks said it all, didn’t they? At least, enough. Worse, though, was the realization that his impulse to inflict bodily harm stemmed from something way deeper than simple protective instinct.
And far, far more scary.
“What I don’t get is why?”
Her forehead crimped. “I didn’t see the signs?”
“Signs? What signs?” Colin reached for her hand, having to take care not to crush it, he was so damned mad. “For God’s sake, you’re not supposed to be looking for signs from somebody you trust, okay? No, what I meant was...” He let go to cross his arms over his chest. “Why on earth would this dipwad think he could get away with it?”
At least that got her to smile. “I guess because he knew rocking the boat wasn’t my style, that...” Her mouth pulled flat. “That I’d do almost anything to not embarrass myself. Or the people I felt I owed.”
Owed. What an odd word choice. “Except they all overestimated how far you could be pushed.”
She gave him a funny look, a tiny smile poking at the corners of her mouth. “Apparently so. Especially once I had all the facts. I might be a people pleaser, but I’m not a masochist, for crying out loud. So strangely I’m actually very grateful for how things played out. Because if I hadn’t found out when I did...” Another breath left her lungs. “I can’t even imagine the hell that would have been. For any of us, frankly. And I am here to tell you, this chick’s doormat days are over. And they probably wouldn’t be if none of this had happened.”
Only the fierce determination in her eyes was clearly wrestling with what Colin could clearly see was raw heartbreak, that somebody she’d loved—or in any case believed she had—had been lying to her for at least a year, probably longer. Maybe his situation hadn’t been exactly the same, but he knew, too, what it felt like, that breath-stealing sensation of having been catapulted into an alternate dimension when you suddenly realized you were in a relationship based on dust—
And seeing the tangle of emotions on Emily’s face provoked another spurt of protectiveness. Which was the last thing she probably wanted, and definitely the last thing he could afford to feel right now. If ever. But a weird...pride, he guessed it was, flickered in there somewhere, too, that despite her obvious mortification, no way was she going to be, or even play, the victim. Not now, or ever again.
Because this was no child, not by a long shot, but a woman...one whose newfound inner strength was a force to be reckoned with.
A realization that only shined a big bright light on why Colin needed to ignore the physical tug more than ever. Because she’d been used before. And he’d been had. So no way was he even going near that road again, for both of their sakes. But especially hers, he thought, as a family with two young kids passed their table on their way into the diner, and the little girl—four or five, maybe—went nuts over the puppy.
“You can pet him if you like,” Emily said, heaving the sleepy little thing up so the kids could get to him, her chuckle warm at the little girl’s giggles when the pup nibbled her fingers.
“What’s his name?”
“He doesn’t have one yet—”
“Why’s he wearing that thing around his neck?” the child asked, her face scrunched into a combination of curious and concerned.
“So he won’t mess with the bandage around his boo-boo. It’s only for a week or so, though. Otherwise he’s fine. And we’re actually looking for a home for him,” Emily said to the kids’ parents, grinning. “You interested?”
The mother laughed. “Oh, gosh, sorry—we’ve already got as many animals as we can handle. But as cute as he is, I doubt you’ll have any trouble placing him. Come on, guys,” she said to the kids, steering them inside before her resolve crumbled, Colin was guessing. But she smiled back at Emily. “Good luck!”
“So what’s the plan?” he asked Emily as she settled the pup into her lap again. “For you, I mean. Not the dog.”
“No earthly idea. Although I suppose go back to DC, start the job search. I can probably get another teaching position, if I want it.”
“Do you?”
“More than anything. I’m crazy about little kids.”
Colin thought of how her voice had gentled as she talked to the little girl, and his own gut cramped. “I kinda got that impression. Private school?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “No. Public. Why would you assume private? Never mind,” she said when he flushed, realizing his gaffe. “Don’t answer that.” Then she snorted. “As close to rebellion as I ever got, first wanting to go into early childhood education, then wanting to work with kids who wouldn’t necessarily be ‘easy.’ Who maybe hadn’t had many of the advantages I’d had.”
Colin linked his arms high on his chest. “Kind of a sweeping indictment of the public school system, isn’t it?”
“More true in the areas I asked to teach than you might think.”
“Why?”