Cougar

by M. A. Foster

  I had no idea Max had done that.

  “So what happened with the so-called easy piece of ass?”

  “I married her.”

  “You married that whore?” I ask a little too loud, earning curious looks from a few of the staff members.

  “Hey, now. That’s the mother of my child you’re talking about,” he chides playfully.

  “Sorry.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe you, Mr. Popular-football-star, married the high school whorebag.” My parents never mentioned that he’d gotten married. Although, any mention of Chris, Mike or Elizabeth was a nonstarter for me. They were part of my past.

  “She wasn’t that bad.” Guess no one ever told him she’d almost screwed his best friend just hours after she’d been with him. “After you left, she came around a few times, but I didn’t want anything to do with her. A few years later, we bumped into each other during winter break. She got pregnant. We got married.”

  “Congratulations?” I shrug. I mean, if he’s happy….

  He scowls. “The only thing good to come out of my marriage to that woman is my daughter. Last year, I caught Becca having an affair with her boss. Our divorce was final last month.”

  My eyes go wide. “Oh. Wow. I’m sorry.” I really am.

  He huffs out a humorless laugh. “Talk about karma.”

  “Maybe.” I shrug. “Or that’s what happens when you marry a whore.”

  “Smartass.”

  “How did your daughter take it?”

  “She doesn’t know. She’s starting her first year of college, and Becca wants to wait until she gets settled before we tell her.”

  “Do you think it’s wise to keep something like that from her?” Pot meet kettle.

  “You ready to go, Emi bear?” my father’s voice cuts in. I look over to see him standing just a few feet from our table, his eyes flicking between Chris and me.

  “Yes.” I stand up and pull my purse over my shoulder.

  “It’s really good to see you again, Emerson.”

  “You, too, Chris.” And I genuinely mean it.

  “Does Mom know you eat here?” I ask my father as I slide into the booth across from him. My mother is always on him about eating healthy. Tijuana Tex-Mex is a little cantina on the boardwalk of Pelican Cove overlooking the bay. The walls and ceiling are painted a bright orange and covered with an array of caricatures and graffiti art.

  My father nods. “She does. I come here every Tuesday for the two-dollar tacos and ice-cold beer.” He lifts his beer and takes a swig. “I take it you and Chris made up.”

  I shrug a shoulder. “If that’s what you want to call it. He apologized.” I take a deep breath. “And I apologized, too.”

  He raises his eyebrows slightly.

  “I was too angry and hurt when I left,” I continue. “I never took into consideration that he’d been hurt, too. Whether it was really a mistake or not, it changed both our lives. Looking back at the whole situation, I can’t imagine how hard that had to be for an eighteen-year-old kid. We technically never broke up. I just left, and a week later I was married to another man. I should’ve broken things off that night instead of just running away. At least he would’ve gotten some kind of closure instead of harboring the guilt of what happened all those years ago.”

  “True.” He nods. “He still should’ve kept it in his pants. He knew better.”

  I smile. “Chris told me that when he came to apologize, you told him to fuck off.” I snicker. My father hardly ever curses. My mother curses enough for both of them.

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I had to. Your mother was too upset, so I took one for the team.” That makes me laugh out loud, earning a smirk from my father.

  “He said Max kicked his ass.”

  “He did.” My father grins proudly. “Kicked his ass real good. Then he gave him Lilly’s number and told him to man up and apologize.”

  Chris had called every day. I remember Lilly telling me that he was calling at least ten times a day and she’d tell him I wasn’t there.

  She wasn’t lying. I wasn’t there because I was with Marcus.

  And after Marcus and I eloped, the calls stopped. My dad must’ve told him I’d gotten married.

  I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “For what?”

  “Because not only had my life changed, but yours had, too. You put me on a plane against your better judgment because I cried and begged you to. Because you loved me. You trusted me. And how did I repay you? By lying and then running off to Vegas and eloping with a rock star.” I shake my head. “If Jay ever did something like that to me, I would strangle her. I don’t regret one second of my life with Marcus, but I do regret hurting you.”

  I’ll never forget the day I broke the news to my parents that Marcus and I eloped. They didn’t even know I was seeing him, or anyone for that matter. I talked to them daily. They thought I was spending my summers lying on the beach under the California sun with my cousin Lilly. Because that’s what I told them. And Lilly covered for me. Less than twenty-four hours after I broke the news that I’d eloped, my parents, my brothers, and Jessica with little Dylan in tow all flew to California.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen my father cry. My mother was angry, dropping F-bombs left and right. My brothers were too star-struck to care, and Jessica—God love her—gave me a conspiratorial wink. She was always on my side. Marcus took the blows from my family like a champ, and by the time they boarded their flight back to Heritage Bay, they had approved of my new husband.

  My father takes a swig of his beer and sets it down with a soft thud. “Don’t apologize. Yes, you hurt us. Not just your mom and me, but your brothers, too. But we all forgave you a long time ago. It helped that you married a good man. It hurts my heart that he was taken away from you, and my granddaughter. Hell, all of us.”

  “Did you… have you ever… hurt Mom?” I start, but I can’t bring myself to ask the real question. I pick at the label on my beer.

  “You mean have I ever cheated?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you met your mother?” he asks through a chuckle as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Did your mother ever tell you about Sally Taylor?”

  I tilt my head. “I don’t think so. If she did, I don’t remember.”

  “If she told you, you’d remember.” He winks. “I was a bit of player back when I was in high school,” he starts, and I roll my eyes. Of course he was, and every Mackenzie male after him. “I was the captain of the football team, and Sally Taylor was a cheerleader. Sally was a pretty girl and she liked me a lot, but I had my eye on this smart-mouthed socialite named Ella Elizabeth Edwards.” He grins. “I finally got up the nerve to ask her out on a date and she said yes. I spent all day Saturday cleaning my dad’s Chevy. I took her to Steak ’n Shake, and I remember she had on a short pink dress and silver shoes. She still has the outfit, and every so often she pulls it out to remind me that I’m a lucky sonofabitch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  My brows furrow. “Daddy.”

  He shrugs unapologetically and continues. “Back then, Steak ’n Shake was the place to go.”

  “I remember it. You should take Jayla there sometime and show her where you and Mom had your first date.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Tell me more about Sally Taylor,” I prompt before taking a swig of my beer.

  “Your mom and I had the perfect date. Afterward, I drove her home, walked her to the door and kissed her on the cheek. At school, she let me carry her books and walk her to class. Everything was perfect. The following weekend, my parents called me into the living room. When I walked in, Sally Taylor was sitting on the sofa with her parents. I didn’t even know our parents knew each other. Turned out, Sally’s father was my father’s boss, and my parents had invited them over for dinner.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Yep.” He nods. “Anyway, after dinner, my fat
her strongly insisted that I take Sally to Steak ’n Shake for ice cream.”

  “This is bad,” I chime in.

  “You have no idea.” He chuckles. “And as luck would have it, your mother was there with Kate having a girls’ night. I could see them through the window, but I didn’t think she saw me. Sally and I placed our orders, and a few minutes later the girl arrived at my window with two milkshakes. Except it wasn’t the same girl who took our orders. It was your mother. Without a word, she reached in the window, dumped the milkshakes in my lap and walked off.”

  My eyes widen and I bring my hand to my mouth. “What did you do?”

  “I drove home with a shocked Sally sitting in the passenger seat. My parents were furious and forbade me from ever seeing your mother again. I told my father it was his fault for sending me off with Sally in the first place, because I was dating Ella Edwards and he’d made me look like a cheater. Everyone knew you didn’t disrespect Laurence Edwards’s daughter. Your grandfather was a very powerful man, and he owned more than half the land in Heritage Bay. I was sick to my stomach all weekend, and the following week at school, she wouldn’t even look at me.”

  “How’d you get her to forgive you?”

  “My mother called and asked if she’d come for dinner, and she graciously accepted. At dinner, my parents explained that they had sent me out with Sally. Ella was embarrassed, and she apologized for the way she reacted. By the time dinner was over, she forgave me and we were back together.”

  “That’s why Mom says we shouldn’t make assumptions because things aren’t always as they seem.”

  “Exactly. She’s speaking from experience.”

  Emerson

  I’m officially bored.

  Now that we’re all settled here in Heritage Bay and Jay is in school for most of the day, Bass and I are both going a little stir-crazy. Nothing has changed for Grace other than our address; she still spends her days either shopping, cooking or watching Lifetime movies.

  With the extra security around the house, Bass has too much free time on his hands, so he spends his days either playing games on his phone, hanging out with Max at the restaurant or on the golf course with my father.

  And me? Here I am, a forty-year-old woman sitting at my mother’s table at eight in the morning, drinking coffee and counting down the hours until my daughter gets home from school. This is now my life. I have a degree in public relations, yet my only clients were Marcus, Royal Mayhem, Lucas, and Jay. Now it’s just Jay. Ever since her interview with Rhythm & Riffs, the calls and emails have been nonstop. However, her career has been put on hold for now. Lucas and I have our weekly chats, but I think it’s because he misses us more than anything. Especially since I’ve turned over his PR stuff to Lilly. My life has gone from 60 to 0 in a matter of days.

  “How are things coming along with the foundation?” Mom asks.

  “Surprisingly well, thanks to you.” I sigh. “I wish I’d gotten more involved in your charities back when I was a teenager. I had no idea how much work goes into it.”

  “You can always volunteer to help me.”

  “You know I’d love nothing more than to help you, but I don’t think I can stand to breathe the same air as Elizabeth.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Emerson, it’s been over twenty years. You’re not teenagers anymore. You’re grown women. Squash whatever this is between you two before your children get dragged into it.”

  I shrug as I bring my cup to my lips and avert my eyes.

  She huffs. “Fine. Maybe you should find yourself a little hookup to take the edge off.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

  I suck in a breath, shocked, and choke on my coffee.

  Oh my God! She did not just say that.

  “Mother!” I cough. “How do you even know what a hookup is?”

  “Oh, please.” She flicks her wrist. “Between Liam, Dylan, and Cole, I know everything. I’m just saying it’s okay to lose yourself for a few hours. How long has it been?”

  Two years, but I’m not about to tell her that. “Mother.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. I don’t need a hookup or to lose myself.”

  “Oh?” She leans forward with her elbow on the table and her chin propped in the palm of her hand. “Do you have one of those vibrating penises?”

  I drag my hands over my face and snort a laugh. “They’re called vibrators.” I laugh harder. “I thought you knew everything.”

  She shrugs. “Boys don’t talk about vibrators. They talk about pussy and hooking up.”

  Hanging out with rock stars for nearly twenty-two years, I thought I’d heard it all. Yet my mother still has the ability to shock me with the stuff that comes out of her mouth. “Jesus, lady. Where is your filter?”

  She scoffs. “Since when have I ever had a filter, Emerson?”

  True. But still… “It’s never too late, Mother.”

  She waves me off. “You know Chris divorced his wife. She was having an affair with her boss.”

  I roll my eyes again. Ella Mackenzie is the damn queen of gossip. I don’t know how she’s managed to keep our family’s personal business to herself all these years. “Chris told me,” I admit. “I bumped into him the other day when I was meeting Daddy for lunch.”

  Her face screws up in disgust. “I never cared for her. Not even when you were teenagers. Something about her never sat right with me.”

  “That’s because she was a backstabbing whore pretending to be my friend so she could screw my boyfriend.” I drop my gaze to my coffee cup. “And she did.”

  My mother nods. “I know. He came to the house. He told your father he’d made a huge mistake and begged him to bring you back home. Your father told him to fuck off.” She barks out a laugh. “And Max kicked his ass.”

  “I heard.”

  She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry he hurt you. I wish you’d told us.”

  “It was a long time ago.” I wave her off. “He apologized and we’ve moved on.”

  “I’m glad you’re finally opening up and talking about it. I hate that you’re so closed off. You never used to be this way until….”

  My head jerks up. “Until what?”

  “You were always such an outgoing, vibrant young girl with big dreams and—”

  “And what… then Marcus came along?” I hedge.

  “Honey, no. That’s not what I’m saying. Marcus was the best thing that ever happened to you. I’m talking about you. You couldn’t get away from here fast enough, and then you became a whole different person in California. You’re so… guarded.”

  That’s the second time this week I’ve heard that word.

  “I was married to a rock star. A very famous one. The only people I could trust in my daily life were Marcus, Bass, and Grace. And for the longest time, I struggled to trust Marcus.”

  “Well you’re here now. We want you to be happy. We want the old Emerson back. Let us be here for you.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mother, but this is who I am. I’m not that eighteen-year-old girl anymore. I’m a forty-year-old widow with a sheltered teen. I’m guarded because it’s the only way to stay strong. Some days I struggle because I don’t even know who I am without Marcus. If I wasn’t managing his life, I was preparing him for death.”

  “Emerson!” she chides, shocked.

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it that way, but it’s the truth. While you all were here preparing for our transition, I was preparing Marcus for his. There were things he needed to do before he was too sick to do them. He wrote letters to Jayla, one for every important milestone or holiday over the next year, one for the day we finally tell her about Alex, and one for her wedding day. I’m the one who has to give them to her, and I’m the one who has to put her back together every time she falls apart. You saw her the other day with those sunglasses on her face. You heard what she said. ‘Her eyes hurt,’ and you know why that was. Because she’d been crying over a simple letter welcomi
ng her to her new home. That was just the first one. So I’m sorry, Mother, but if I let my guard down, I will completely fall apart.”

  Cam

  “Cameron,” Emerson drawls on the other end of the phone, and I stifle back a groan at how sexy she sounds.

  “I need a favor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I need to borrow your washing machine. Mine isn't working, and the guy can't get here until tomorrow. I could take it over to my parents’, but then I’ll have to listen to my mother drill me for three hours about how thirty will be here before I know it, and I should find a nice girl to settle down with and start a family.”

  “How do you know I won’t drill you for three hours?” she asks, and I nearly drop my phone. She’s killing me. I’d love nothing more than to drill her for three hours.

  “Because you’re not my mother,” I reply.

  “True that.” She snickers. “Come on over. I’d love the company.”

  “Here,” Emerson said as she set down a platter of marinated steaks beside the grill before turning to head back inside the house.

  I hadn’t realized I was staring until Marcus stated, “You love her.”

  I jerked my gaze to him. His eyes were still locked on Emerson as he took a sip from his water bottle. His eyes were always on her, tracking her movements. The man was obsessed with his wife. Not in a creepy way, but in an admirable way.

  I tried to pretend as if I hadn’t been busted ogling his wife. “Who?”

  He nodded in the direction of where Emerson had just gone.

  “Em?” I frowned. “Of course I do. She’s family.”

  Marcus turned his skeptical eyes on me and pinned me with a knowing look that said I was full of shit. “I see the way you look at her.”

  “How do I look at her?”

  “The same way I do.”

  I had always had a crush on Emerson, but that’s all it ever was. Or so I’d thought.

  “And if I told you it was just a stupid teenage crush?”