by Robyn Neeley
“How can it when he apparently never got it back.”
“Maybe he just needs a little more time . . . or maybe, these batches are all wrong, too.”
“All four?” Emma sniffed.
Abby snapped her fingers. “What if the batter has a thing for reporters?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it predicted me for Brandon and that obviously isn’t going to happen. He’s a reporter just like Jason. Maybe the spell doesn’t work on journalists because their brains are hardwired for logic and facts.”
“Maybe.” Emma didn’t think Abby’s theory had much merit.
“I bet that’s it.” Abby reached down for two cupcake tins. Glancing up at the four bowls, she grabbed six more. “Wow, we’re going to have a lot of cupcakes this week.”
“Yes, we are.” Emma agreed, trying to muster up a smile. “We can take some to the library. I think they’re having a bake sale.”
“Good idea.” She reached over and gave Emma’s ponytail an encouraging tug. “I’m sure Jason will show you exactly how he feels tonight at dinner.”
“I’m not going.” Emma grabbed a bowl, but after seeing Emily’s name again in pink cursive writing, pushed it aside.
“What? Why not?”
“Because I can’t take it.” Emma shook her head. “I can’t take the heartbreak again.”
“This isn’t about Michael, is it?” Abby asked while pouring a glass of lemonade for Emma.
“God, no.” Emma picked up the drink and took a sip. “It’s so funny. I thought I would never get over Michael, but it was nothing compared to how I felt when Jason left here after seeing Emily’s name in the bowl—how I still feel.” She sighed. “This was just supposed to be a stupid summer fling—a way to keep tabs on him while he wrote his story.”
“But then you fell in love with him,” Abby added.
Emma straightened, burrowing her eyebrows. “I’m not in love.”
“Oh, come on. Anyone with half a brain can see you’re head over heels in love with that man.” She cupped Emma’s hands with hers. “And it’s okay to let someone in. Give your heart to him, Emma. Have faith.”
“Faith,” Emma repeated. A word she thought she understood. She’d certainly practiced it for most of her life. Her bachelors put their faith in her every single week. Why was it so difficult for her to have faith when it came to her own love life?
Grabbing another wooden spoon from below, Emma began mixing one bowl after another, folding in the pink coloring. “What I need is to get my head on straight. Just like Brandon’s not your soul mate, Jason’s not mine.”
She peered down at the final bowl and Jason’s cold, hard fact stared back.
18
Jason slipped on his shoes and fiddled with the buttons on his charcoal black shirt.
“Dude, tell me again why we’re going to this?” Brandon came into the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a white buttoned-down shirt. His wavy blond hair wet and wild.
Jason leaped off the bed, throwing Brandon the comb on his dresser. “Because I promised Emma that I would be there.”
Brandon arched an eyebrow. “Then, why am I going with you? Won’t that cramp your style?”
“In case I need back up. All the beer you can drink, on me.” Jason passed him and headed into the kitchen. He didn’t feel like explaining that he hadn’t talked to Emma since their conversation in the park and wasn’t sure where they stood.
Why was his friend so reluctant to go anyway? It wasn’t like Brandon to sit home on any night of the week when he could go to a party and throw back a few drinks on someone else’s dime. “Don’t you want to see Abby?”
“Don’t remind me.” Brandon followed Jason into the kitchen, running the comb through his hair. “For the umpteenth time, that girl and I are not getting together.”
Jason eyed his buddy’s freshly shaven face. For a guy that complained the whole afternoon about going, he’d certainly cleaned up for the evening. “Won’t mention it again. So, have you talked to Caitlin?”
Brandon leaned against the sink. “No. I saw her out last night with your girlfriend’s ex, though.”
“Michael?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I was at the Buttermilk Tavern with Tom and the guys, watching the game. Tom said the guy had dated Emma.”
Jason nodded. “He’s Caitlin’s ex, too.”
“Figures. She was trashed and didn’t see me.” He pushed up. “Totally all over that guy. I probably dodged a bullet with that one. You ready?”
“Yes.” That was an understatement. Jason snatched his car keys off the counter. His heart had already taken off for the fairgrounds, now he just had to get the rest of his body there to claim it.
He’d seen Emma leave her cottage about an hour ago but hadn’t had the courage to go outside and confront her. He wasn’t sure if she’d talk to him, but he thought his chances were better in a public place like tonight’s Final Fling party.
Last night, he had planned the perfect meal for them out on the dock, firing up the grill and preparing sirloin kabobs with bell peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms, and fresh pineapple. A bottle of white wine from a local winery chilled in the refrigerator. He remembered Abby saying that Emma preferred sweet Riesling over a dry Chardonnay, so that’s what he got. He had also made a fresh garden salad and had even picked up a blueberry pie from the Star Lite.
As the hours ticked by and he sat alone on the deck, he realized she wasn’t coming. He’d tried to reach her at the Sugar Spoon and on her cell phone but no luck. He’d been stood up, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Abby had answered the Sugar Spoon’s phone and said that Emma was at her mother’s.
Why had she changed her mind about dinner? The story wasn’t the reason Emma was a no-show. He’d written it, but it wouldn’t be out until tomorrow. There was no way she could have found out about the piece. He had planned on showing it to her last night. Now he was running out of time. He’d need to tell her before she saw it in print.
His gaze zoomed in on the kitchen table where the copy he had printed out for her laid unread next to the fruit bowl. He only hoped she wouldn’t be infuriated with him and would understand his motives for doing it. He’d move heaven and earth to protect her. The words on those pages did just that.
During the short drive to the fairgrounds, Brandon went on and on about how he would not be getting together with Abby but then proceeded to ask Jason a hundred questions about Emma’s cousin. What was she like? Was she funny? Did she practice magic in bed? Like Jason would know the answer to that last question.
Jason pulled in and parked. He couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.
“So, I have some news,” Brandon said as they walked toward the fair entrance.
“Shoot.” Jason shoved his phone in his khaki pants pocket.
“I purchased a cottage on the lake.”
Jason stopped and stared at his friend. “For real?”
“Yeah.”
“Here in Buttermilk Falls?”
“Yeah. Right down the street from Emma’s.”
“Why?”
“I’m moving here.”
“Yeah, right.” Jason kept walking, sure his friend was playing some sort of a joke.
“I’m serious.” Brandon followed. “This place is kind of growing on me. I’ve been wanting to get out of L.A. for some time.”
Jason eyed him. There was more to this sudden desire to become a resident of Buttermilk Falls. “And you think you’d like it here?”
“Yeah. I think I would.” He paused, “Okay, I admit it. At first, it was about Caitlin and the sex. Thanks to your girlfriend, that’s over.”
“Um . . . I think given what you saw last night, Emma might have saved you from making a big mistake.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “I’m really inspired here. I’ve been running every day—and writing. I don’t know. The words for the novel I’ve always wanted to write are just flowing. It’s been pretty awesome.”
“You’re writing a book?” Now Jason had heard everything. Brandon hated writing more than two thousand words. He’d never pull it off.
“Why so surprised? I’ve wanted to for a long time.”
“Won’t you miss city life?”
Brandon chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “Probably. Who the hell knows? Maybe I’ll write a number one bestseller and then spend the rest of my life traveling and getting laid around the world, living off my kick-ass royalties.”
“Now, that’s my buddy.” Jason slapped his back. “I was worried for a second.”
“Hey, you can come and visit, anytime.”
Jason gulped. He also hoped to be more than a visitor passing through, but that would be up to Emma. If she didn’t want him, there’s no way he’d stay.
They headed into the fairgrounds and Jason could only laugh. The main area that had held all the rides for the Buttermilk Falls carnival had been transformed into what looked like one hell of a party.
A local band blasted out a recent pop number on stage, while a large crowd gathered around the dance floor. Other flings huddled near refreshment tables. A beer tent had been propped up to the right. Everyone was dancing, eating, or drinking, but one thing was sure: All seemed to be having a good time.
Jason stood by a refreshment table that contained BBB mini burgers. He grinned, grabbing one. “You saved my life, buddy.” He said to the burger.
“What?” Brandon grabbed a burger and popped it into his mouth.
“Oh, nothing.”
“What is in this? It’s freakin’ awesome.” Brandon reached for a second.
“Blueberry, blue cheese, and bacon,” Jason said without hesitation. “Get used to them. It’s quite the Buttermilk Falls delicacy.”
“I’m going to go get a beer. Want one?”
“Yeah, man. Thanks.”
Brandon left for the beer tent and Jason scanned the crowd. Everyone—and he meant everyone—was here. Betty from the Star Lite was holding court, while Mel flipped his mini burgers. Tom and Bridget were cutting a rug on the dance floor along with members of their wedding party whom Jason had met in Vegas. All of the auction flings were there, and from what Jason could tell from the intimate dancing going on on the dance floor, they looked like satisfied customers.
Who he didn’t see was Caitlin, but he assumed she’d make her grand entrance soon enough. He hoped there wouldn’t be a confrontation between her and Brandon.
Suddenly, his gaze fell on Emma and all the noise and commotion going on around him ceased to exist. Wow. The glimpse of her he’d caught earlier hadn’t done her justice. She was absolutely gorgeous in a light pink sundress and jean jacket. Her cascading blond curls hit both sides of the jacket. This causal country look definitely lit a fire inside him.
“Come on, Hot Shot.” Brandon handed him his beer in a red Solo cup. “Let’s go talk to your girl and up your chances of getting laid tonight.”
Jason drew in a breath and held it because there was no way he could do this without stalling for a few more seconds. He let it out. “Okay, let’s go, and I’d appreciate it if you’d tone it down a bit.”
“What’d I say?” Brandon asked with a huge joker’s grin. “Fine. I’ll behave.”
Jason made his way to Emma, side stepping his way through the dancers. “Hi,” he offered.
“Hi,” she replied. She could only hold eye contact for a few seconds before she looked away.
“Hello, handsome reporter,” Abby chirped.
“Someone call?” Brandon answered back.
Abby’s eyes rolled. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Is Abby short for Abracadabra?” He smirked.
“You’re such a comedian,” Abby retorted, disgust coloring her face.
“Hey, Abby, you look nice tonight.” Jason inserted a verbal referee flag between his buddy and the cute redhead as the lead singer of the band began to belt out a slow song. “Doesn’t she, Brandon?”
Brandon threw back his beer and set it on a nearby refreshment table. He reached for Abby’s hand. “Let’s get this over with.”
Abby yanked her hand away. “Are you drunk? I’m not dancing with you.”
“Do you have any other offers?” Brandon spun around.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Before Jason knew what was happening, Abby had a tight grip on his arm, leading him to the dance floor. He looked back at Emma, unable to read her reaction. Any conversation with his beautiful blonde fling would have to wait.
Emma stood next to Brandon, watching her cousin dance with Jason. Those strong arms should be around her, not Abby. Maybe she should cut in. She did owe him an explanation to why she bailed on dinner last night.
She felt awful for standing him up. That stunt was so not her, yet she had convinced herself after seeing Emily’s name again yesterday in the batter—strike that, in four batches of batter—it was the right thing to do . . . for both of them. She hated herself right now. He didn’t deserve to be blown off. It wasn’t his fault his heart wasn’t ready to move on.
She felt a tap on her shoulder. “Care to dance?” Brandon stood next to her, waiting for an answer.
Emma glanced around, catching Caitlin’s eye. She‘d just arrived with Michael by her side. How could Emma resist this opportunity to completely piss off her nemesis who no doubt was seething under all that makeup? “Sure, why not.”
Brandon led her to an open space and put his hands on her waist while she reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders. Keeping a healthy distance between them, she let him sway her to the music.
“You know.” She glanced into his sparkling blue eyes. Damn they were amazingly blue just like Jason’s. Was it a prerequisite for all reporters to have blue eyes you want to drown in? “You could be nicer to Abby. Your batter’s outcome surprised her just as much as it did you.”
“Yeah.” He nodded with a killer smile that she suspected always got him whatever he wanted. “I was kind of a jerk back there.”
“You think?”
“I’ll try to be nice.” He chuckled, adding, “Given we’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m moving here. I just bought a cottage a few doors down from you.”
“Really?” Emma stopped moving. She hadn’t seen that news coming. “You’re moving here—as in leaving the city for small-town life?”
“Why is everyone so surprised?” Brandon started to sway her around again. “Jason had the same reaction. I like it here.” He grinned. “It amuses me.”
“Well, I’m glad you find this place entertaining.” She glanced over at Abby, and her cousin immediately looked away, pretending she wasn’t totally watching them.
“You know, Brandon. I have an excellent track record with my batter, but maybe I was bound to finally fail. If you want to be with Caitlin, don’t let what you saw stop you, and don’t take it out on my cousin.”
“Caitlin and I are done. She’s not for me.”
“Sure she knows that?” She nodded in the direction of Caitlin and Michael. They’d moved onto the dance floor, too. Emma was pretty sure she could feel the tiny darts in her back that Caitlin shot over with her death stare.
“Doesn’t matter.” He smiled down at her. “You know, your cousin checks me out while I’m running.”
“Oh, really.” Emma giggled. Typical guy comment. “Kinda full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Maybe?” he admitted and, without warning, pulled her in and then dipped her to the music. “So, is it true you have a perfect record with that batter of yours?”
“Yeah.” She pushed herself up and out of the dip. “I don’t like to brag or anything.”
“And all of your bachelors are happy?”
“As far as I know. No breakups, no divorces.”
“Maybe I should get to know your cousin.” He twirled Emma in the direction of Jason and Abby. “May I cut in?” His gaze rested on Abby.
&nbs
p; Emma nodded her approval. “Go ahead. I’ve warned him to be on his best behavior.” She leaned in so only her cousin could hear her. “You’re going to love those tight arms around you. Just sayin’.”
Abby protested at first, but relented. Of course she did. Abby’s cool indifference wasn’t fooling Emma for a second. The redheaded spitfire definitely had her sights on Brandon whether she was ready to admit it or not. Emma stood in the middle of the dance floor for a few seconds and then turned to leave. She knew Jason was behind her, watching her every move.
“Would you like to dance?” Jason asked in a low voice.
Emma smiled and shrugged. “Well, there is music.”
“And we are on a dance floor.”
“Maybe you should ask Betty?” They both looked over at the refreshment table where the beloved waitress and Mel appeared to be stealing kisses.
Jason reached for her hand, pulling her close. “I think I’d like to dance with my fling, if that’s okay with her.”
Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and let Jason’s strong arms engulf her. Her heart pounded underneath her sundress as she inhaled his familiar cologne. She closed her eyes, letting his scent fill her lungs.
“Emma.” She looked up, and his beautiful blue eyes met hers. She’d been wrong. Brandon’s baby blues couldn’t even compare to Jason’s. Not by a longshot. While Brandon’s had shown mischief, Jason’s eyes were warm, welcoming, and held a hint of desire. She was all but certain that look was reserved for her. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, letting it linger on her chin. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She brought one hand down and threaded her fingers through his. “And I’m the one that should be apologizing after standing you up last night. Maybe we can talk later?”
“I’d like that. There’s something else I’d like to do right now.” He lowered his lips to hers. “Only if it’s okay with you, of course,” he whispered.
It was so okay. Her lips brushed over his in reply.
“Well, well, well . . . What do we have here?”
Emma and Jason both glanced sideways to see Caitlin circling them like a shark swarming its live bait. “Buttermilk’s most expensive summer fling, out together one last time.”
