9
Emerson smiled replying to Riker’s text. They’d been going back and forth since yesterday. This time, he asked about her favorite foods. She put pizza and sushi.
He responded back with a string of emoji faces with grimaces. Can’t do sushi, but I like pizza.
She replied. Oh, I like barbecue too.
He gave her a thumbs up emoji. I can’t wait to see you at church
She texted back. Can’t wait to see you either. I’ll be the freckle face in the green dress.
Love those freckles! I’ll be the one with the goofy grin thinking how lucky I am to have such a beautiful woman by my side.
The compliment warmed her through to her toes.
THANK YOU! she put in all caps.
They’d decided to meet in the church parking lot. Riker asked if he could pick her up at her home, but Emerson said it would be easier to just meet there. She was going to have to come clean about her identity—sooner rather than later, especially if this thing with Riker continued. Who was she kidding? Just thinking about seeing him again was turning her into a bundle of nerves. Of course, she wanted to continue it.
She applied her mascara and brushed powder over her face. The final touch was cinnamon lipstick. She fluffed her hair and sprayed a few squirts of hairspray. The trick would be getting out of the house before running into Mama. Yesterday, the intolerable woman had given her the third degree, wanting to know where she went during the barbecue. Emerson told her she’d met up with one of her work friends to have dessert. She hated lying to her mama, but, geez, she was twenty-five years old—way too old to have to give a play-by-play of where she’d been. Unfortunately, the minute Emerson moved back into the ranch, her mama started treating her like she was a teenager again. It was time to start looking for a place of her own.
She reached for her cologne and sprayed it into the air, stepping into the mist. Next, she placed her phone in her purse and slid the strap over her shoulder. She did one final check in the mirror before leaving the room.
When she got to the front door, her mama’s voice stopped her cold. “Where are you going all dressed up?”
Crap! The warden got to her before she could escape her gilded cage. Emerson turned. “Hey, Mama. I’m going to church.” Surely Mama wouldn’t give her flack about that.
Catherine arched an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. “Don’t tell me … it’s with that same co-worker you were with the other night.”
The cynicism dripping from Mama’s voice grated on her nerves.
“You should come with me, Mama, it couldn’t hurt you to get a little religion in your life.” Maybe it could make you a little kinder, she added to herself.
“No thanks,” she said dryly. She tapped her manicured nails on her arms. “I’m afraid you’ll have to put church on hold, dear, because we’ve got other plans.”
Emerson gurgled out a disbelieving laugh. The woman was impossible! Mama was also wearing a dress—not her usual Sunday morning lounge-around-the house attire. Her daddy came into the foyer and stepped beside Mama, draping his arm around her shoulders. He looked at Emerson.
“Morning, cupcake.” He smiled broadly. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” she said automatically. Daddy was dressed in tan slacks, a button-down shirt, and dress shoes. Even in his older age, he was stately with jet-black hair, graying around his temples and coal-black eyes. He was big and grand in looks and mannerisms. His sentences rolled out in soothing ballads. He reminded Emerson of the actor Alec Baldwin. Emerson frowned. “What’s going on?”
A puzzled look crossed his features. “We’re going to brunch at the club with the Landers.”
Emerson’s eyes bugged. “What?” She shook her head. “No, I have another appointment.” She had to get going, otherwise she’d be late. “I’m going to church.”
He turned to Caroline. “I thought you told Emerson we’re getting together with the Landers this morning.”
“Well, of course I told her,” Caroline spat, her face turning as red as her hair.
“No, you didn’t,” Emerson countered. “I would’ve remembered.” She planted her feet on the floor, letting Mama know she wasn’t backing down. Then she gave her daddy a pleading look. “She didn’t tell me, Daddy. And I’ve already made other plans.”
He rubbed a hand over his short salt and pepper beard, his heavyset brows bunching. “Cupcake, I’m sorry for the mix-up, but this brunch is kind of important.”
Irritation crawled up Emerson’s neck, her voice rising. “Because of the merger?”
He blinked like he was taken back by her outburst. “Well, yeah. That and the fact that Finley’s coming with Fiona and Kenton.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “I know he’d like for you to come with us. Finley was disappointed that you left the barbecue early. He’s a top-notch guy, sugar. If you’ll just give him a chance—”
“Save it,” she barked, then clamped her lips shut when she saw her daddy’s shocked expression. Emerson had been raised to respect her elders, but this was too much. She wouldn’t be corralled into marrying Finley. Silence descended over the room, sending guilt trickling over Emerson. She wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, only trying to get her point across. She eyed them both. “Look, I know y’all have it all worked out in your minds that Finley and I are going to end up together, but that’s not going to happen.”
Ethan’s face grew slack. “But you and Finley are crazy about each other.”
She let out a sharp laugh. “No, we’re not. We’re just friends. Nothing more.”
“You told me that you were over the moon for him,” Ethan continued. “Remember? We sat in the breakfast room and talked about it.”
Exasperation squeezed Emerson’s heart. “When I was sixteen.”
Ethan looked at Caroline in confusion. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.”
Caroline’s eyes sparked fire as she zeroed in on Emerson. Had her daddy not been in the room, Emerson was sure her mama would’ve have given her a tongue-lashing. Instead, Caroline gave Ethan a reassuring smile, placing a hand on his arm. “It’ll be all right,” she said smoothly. “Emerson’s not sure what she wants right now.”
“The heck I’m not,” Emerson countered, her hand going to her hip.
The doorbell rang.
Caroline ran a hand over her dress and put on her best debutante smile, but her eyes radiated a warning. “You will be on your best behavior,” she commanded through gritted teeth.
Ethan gave her a look of sheer panic. “Please, honeybun, do this for me, okay?”
Emerson didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The whole thing was ridiculous. They were treating her like a piece of livestock. Why in the heck had Daddy orchestrated a merger contingent on her ending up with Finley? What was this? The Dark Ages?
Her daddy’s eyes held hers. “Would you do it for me, honey?”
She thought of the church, how Riker would be waiting—blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, rugged features. An arrow shot through her heart, making her long to be with Riker so badly, that for an instant, she could hardly breathe.
Caroline strode to the door and opened it. “Fiona, Kenton,” she said, gushing warmth as she hugged them. “Come in.” A bright smile curved her cherry red lips. “Finley, I’m so glad you came. Emerson’s been dying to see you.”
A silent scream rose in Emerson’s throat. She had to get away from this world. It would beat the life out of her little by little until there was nothing left but a plastic smile, designer dress, and a litany of meaningless trivialities. In other words, she’d turn into her mama. Her thoughts rushed to Riker. He agreed to go to church with his family because of her. And she would be forced to cancel on him last minute.
As usual, Finley looked the part of privilege in his crisp, blue polo shirt and slacks rolled tight at the ankles. No socks—Docksider shoes. He was handsome with his boyish, rogue looks and charm. But zero sparks. She’d nearly flat-lined during their kiss
. Finley looked her up and down, not trying to hide his appreciation. “You look fantastic,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
“Thanks,” she said tightly.
Fiona and Kenton smiled simultaneously like they were taking their instructions from the same cue card. “You look lovely, darling,” Fiona said. She went to Emerson air-kissing her on both cheeks. Her bold perfume stung Emerson’s nostrils and tickled her throat. She averted her face, letting out a slight cough. Fiona’s honey blonde hair was short and spiky on top. Long, gold hoops dangled from her ears, and she was drenched in a thick gold necklace and matching bracelet. Tall and model skinny, Fiona had sharp, small features that reminded Emerson of a ferret.
Emerson forced a smile, her hand going to her neck. The noose kept getting tighter and tighter.
Caroline brought her hands together. “Are we ready?”
Angelica the housekeeper stepped into the foyer as if on cue. Caroline turned to her. “Tell the chauffeur to bring the car around the front.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She hurried away.
“I need to go to the restroom,” Emerson blurted.
“Now?” Caroline asked, giving her an icy look.
“Yes,” she countered, before anyone could argue. “I’ll be right back.” She rushed down the hall, her heels making a frantic clopping sound that mirrored the beating of her heart. She had to at least text Riker to let him know she wouldn’t be there. As soon as she got inside the bathroom, she locked the door and reached for her phone.
She wondered if she should call and try to explain it to him. No, he’d ask too many questions. Her fingers flew over the keypad. I’m so sorry, but something came up. I won’t be able to make it today.
She held her breath, waiting for a response.
Nothing.
Her heart dropped. Was he so angry that he wasn’t responding? Or maybe he was on his bike? Yes, that was probably it. She waited another couple of minutes, hoping he’d reply, but no luck. Having no other choice, she shoved the phone in her purse and went back to the foyer.
A few minutes later, when they got into the limousine, Finley brushed his leg against hers. She tensed, angling away from him so their legs wouldn’t touch. Amusement flickered in his acorn-colored eyes as he draped an arm around her.
“Don’t,” she warned through gritted teeth.
He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “How was the rodeo, Starr?”
Her first reaction was a sense of horror that he knew her secret, then fury took over. “Are you threatening me?” she asked in a low tone.
He winked. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
10
As luck would have it, Riker pulled into the church parking lot at the exact same time as his dad. He removed his helmet and ran a hand through his unruly hair before adjusting his tie. His dad and Marley got out of the King Cab truck first, followed by his brothers. They all looked shocked to see him.
His dad stepped up and gave him a tight hug and hearty pat on the back. “I’m glad you came.”
“Thanks.” He wasn’t sure what type of reception he’d get after the other night.
“Hey, Bro. Good to see you,” Gavin boomed, giving him a fist-bump. Michael just looked at him.
Riker felt bad for rising to the bait the other night. Michael was a teenager, acting out because he was frustrated that Riker hadn’t been coming around. As the adult, Riker should’ve taken the high road. Starr was right—he needed to spend some time with his brothers, especially Michael. The irony was that he and Michael were a lot alike in looks and temperament. Had he been in Michael’s shoes, he would’ve felt neglected too. He felt Marley’s gaze. When she realized he’d caught her looking, she offered a nod and hesitant smile but kept her distance, probably because she feared another blowup. That was fine with him. The less contact he had with her the better.
“Is Starr here?” his dad asked glancing around the parking lot.
“She’s meeting me here.”
A pleased smile stretched over his dad’s lips. “That’s good.” A sparkle lit his eyes. “I like her.”
“Me too,” he said, a smile forming on his lips.
“You and Starr are welcome to come over for lunch,” Marley added, hope springing in her voice.
“Thanks, but we have other plans,” Riker said quickly, rubbing a hand over his neck. Why did Marley feel the need to push the envelope?
She nodded, her eyes drooping. “Some other time then.”
“Yeah.” Riker forced a smile.
His dad shifted his feet. “I think we’ll go on inside. We’ll save you and Starr a seat.”
Riker smiled inwardly. His dad hated being late to anything. His motto was, If you’re not ten minutes early, you’re late.
“Yeah, we’ll save you a seat … smack dab in the front. Close enough for Preacher Lang to spit on your head when he talks,” Gavin teased. “The old geezer needs to get a hearing aid. He doesn’t realize his voice is ten volumes too high. When he gets going on his sermon, the saliva starts flying.”
“Hey, cut the preacher some slack,” James warned, but there was a hint of laughter in his eyes.
Riker shoved Gavin’s arm, then swiped his hair.
Gavin darted out of his reach. “Don’t be messing with the hair.”
Michael chuckled. “Gavin’s got his own little fan club on the back pew.”
Riker was surprised and relieved that Michael joined the conversation. It was starting to feel like old times. “Little brother’s picking up on chicks. Way to go.”
Gavin’s face was scarlet, but he grinned from ear to ear.
“All right, guys. Enough horsing around,” James said, linking his arm through Marley’s. He looked at Riker. “See ya inside.”
As they walked away, Riker pulled out his phone, wondering if Starr had tried to reach him. It was ten minutes past the time they were supposed to meet. His heart dropped when he saw her text. He felt frozen, looking at it. Was she trying to blow him off? She didn’t say what had come up. His pulse throbbed dully against his neck. It never even occurred to him that she might not come. His throat tightened as he swallowed. They’d been texting back and forth since yesterday. This morning, all was good.
He replied. Is everything okay?
No response.
It dawned on him that aside from her name, he knew very little about Starr. He’d tried to open a conversation about her background on the terrace, but she turned the conversation back to him. At the time, he didn’t think much about it. But now … sweat beaded across his forehead … now he realized how lax he’d been. He should’ve at least found out where she lived. When they were eating cobbler, she mentioned that she lived outside of Ft. Worth. That could mean anything.
He blew out a heavy breath, shoving the phone back into his pocket. When he heard a familiar voice, he jerked, surprised to see Trisha coming toward him.
“Hey, you.” A large smile filled her face as she embraced him. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said joyously like he’d come to see her.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Gavin told me.” She thrust out her lower lip in a petulant pout. “He said you were out here waiting for someone.”
“Yeah.” Okay, this conversation was awkward. He kept half-expecting his phone to vibrate. Hopefully, Starr would respond soon.
Trisha cocked her head, her long hair swishing on her shoulder. “Is it anyone I know?”
He could tell from the crafty look on Trisha’s face that she already knew who he was meeting. He wasn’t in the mood for her silly games. “I don’t think so,” he said casually.
She linked her arm through his, giving him a coy smile. “You owe me some fries. Maybe we can stop by Skinny Stevens after church.” Her dark eyes flashed with adoration as she looked at him like he was the best thing since sliced bread. This was over-the-top, even for Trisha.
“Sorry, but I have to leave right after church.” Maybe Starr would respon
d to his text. If so, he hoped to meet up with her later today. If she didn’t … He tightened his fist. Now that he’d committed to go to church, he had to follow through. After it was over, however, he planned to go back to his condo and do a Google search for Starr. If that didn’t yield anything, he’d hire a private detective. His Titan buddies were always razzing him about living so conservatively. He’d might as well put his money to good use.
Trisha ran a hand over his bicep. “You’re so tense. I could fix that, you know.”
He jerked. “Huh?”
She leaned in, her voice going sultry. “I could give you a back massage.”
“Thanks, but I’m good,” he said firmly.
She scowled. “Why’re you playing so hard to get?”
He turned to face her. No doubt about it—Trisha was a beauty. Her white cotton sundress with bold red flowers molded to her shapely figure. She had a fabulous tan, perfect makeup, and hair so glossy it would’ve made a hair-model jealous. It was obvious that she was used to getting her way with the opposite sex. There was a time when she could work her wiles on Riker, but all he could think about now was Starr—his fiery, redheaded siren. A smile quivered on his lips. Interesting that he was already thinking about Starr in terms of his.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Trisha’s brows furrowed. “You are playing hard to get, aren’t you?”
“I know you find this difficult to believe, but I’m not.”
The corners of her full lips turned down. “Then what is it?”
There was no easy way to say it. Better to just face it head on. “Look Trisha. We’re pals, with a long history. But that’s all we’ll ever be. I care about you, but not like that.”
Her face fell. “How can you say that to me?”
This was getting old fast. “I’m not telling you anything I didn’t tell you the other night at the rodeo.”
She scowled. “You mean before you went off in pursuit of that barrel racer?” Her eyes flashed with understanding. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Her!” Accusation coated her voice. “Admit it. You’ve got a thing for her.”
The Hometown Groom Page 7
