Racing Hearts (11 page)

The boy pointed at Kate. “I'll take her, please.”

 

Trip rushed through the central annex of the festival, eager to get out of range of Emery and her tempting mouth. It took every bit of willpower he had to step away from her.

He remembered the year he worked under Beckett, learning from his expertise, and then a thousand secret moments with his daughter. At times, Trip thought of telling him, asking permission and praying he said yes. But then Trip had been twenty to Emery's seventeen. What decent father would approve?

He blew out a long breath and had started around toward city hall to check in with Mayor Phillips when he heard his name called from behind.

The day had warmed up, not a bit of wind blowing through the trees, making it all that much easier to smell Patty's perfume even before she made it in front of him. He fought the urge to cough as she took yet another step closer, her white bob shaking as she beamed up at him from an overly made-up face.

“Trip, sweetie, I thought that was you.”

Trip knew he had no choice but to speak now, forcing him to also take a giant whiff of Patty's candy-floral-God-knew-what scent. “You were right. What can I do for you, Patty?”

She sweetened her smile and placed her hand on his arm. “Well, you're on the town board, so I wondered if you knew of any new businesses coming to town? A new bakery, perhaps?” She peered around in disgust, her gaze landing decidedly close to Annie-Jean, who seemed to notice her gaze and took it upon herself to give Patty the finger.

Trip choked out a laugh before he could stop himself, because old ladies flipping each other off was funny any way you slice it, until he caught sight of Patty's glare, now pointed at him. The expression
if looks could kill
might very well have been modeled after Patty Tanner and the look she was using on Trip that very second.

He'd lived in Triple Run his whole life, leaving only for the various jobs and apprenticeships he'd taken over the years to learn the ins and outs of training. So, he'd known Patty a long time, and he knew he had all of thirty seconds to back out of that laugh or he would be stuck here for twenty minutes, listening to her dissect its deeper meaning. But Trip was a guy. He didn't have deeper meanings to pretty much anything.

“You know, I'm glad I ran into you, Patty. Mama V asked me to pick up one of your Bundt cakes. Did you make the white chocolate raspberry this year?”

Patty's face switched from anger to pride so fast you'd have thought it were programmed. “It so happens I did. How many did you say you needed? Two?” She gave Trip a look that said he would pay for his laugh in expensive cakes and cookies.

“Right . . . two. I'll swing by in a few minutes, then. I just have to talk to Mayor Phillips.” He started away, but clearly not fast enough, because Patty was back at his side.

“One more thing, Trip, honey. Was that Emery Carlisle I saw you with earlier?”

Trip blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“Out by the road. I saw you with Emery Carlisle. What was that about? She came by the shop a few days ago. Is she in town now? Is she visiting the stables? Is she working for you?”

He shook his head and took a step back, unsure how one small woman could ask so many questions without her head spinning. “Sure, that was Emery. If that's all, I need to—”

“I saw him with her, too.”

Trip drew a breath to calm himself and turned to see Hayden Christian leaning over his jelly and jam booth, accidentally knocking one of the jars to the ground and shattering it into pieces. Several people passing back jumped out of the way of the red glob and glass, but even that didn't keep Hayden from watching Trip for a reaction.

“I . . . yes, that was Emery, but I'm not sure how that's—”

“But what's she doing here?” a third voice asked, and Trip prayed to the Man above to give him an ounce of patience before glancing over to the booth on his left. Charlotte Myers had her hands on a rack of handmade purses and hats, but her eyes were fixed on Trip. Suddenly the warm air felt downright scalding. He needed an escape route, fast.

Just then, he felt someone's hand on his forearm and swung around, sure the whole town surrounded him now, only to find Emery standing impossibly close, her face lit with humor.

“Hey there,” she said, squinting into the sun. “Annie-Jean asked me to fetch your muscles for some lifting. You up to it?” She winked, and Trip thought that might be the best thing he'd seen all day.

He peered around at Patty and Hayden and Charlotte, and now even Mayor Phillips was outside town hall, suspenders fastened tight to his pants like always, scratching his head like he'd just seen the most peculiar thing imaginable. “I'm going with yes,” Trip said, pressing his hand to the small of Emery's back to lead her away. “Though of course you realize you just made this worse, right?”

Emery lifted her gaze to his. “What is
this
?”

“Our affair.”

“Our what?”

“Yeah, they're plotting out the details right now. Half the town saw me help you with that box, and then you came over and flashed me that smile. It's done now. Might as well hold my hand. Give them a good show, ya know?”

“Wait a sec.” Emery stopped walking, her hands on her small hips, her face all scrunched up in anger. Trip couldn't help but grin. Even mad, she shined. “How did I supposedly smile at you?”

Trip leaned in close, catching the faintest scent of vanilla on her neck, before whispering in her ear, “You know, like you want me.” He pulled away with a smile of his own, and her face flushed Red Hots red. From embarrassment or rage, he couldn't be sure, though he had an inkling she erred on the rage side these days.

“You're impossible.”

His grin widened. “Impossibly right.”

“Ugh, forget Annie-Jean; I'd rather pull a muscle than ask you for help.” She stormed off, but Trip's long legs caught up in no time.

“Settle down, lady girl. It's been a long time since I've been able to mess with you. I've missed it.”

She flashed him a cocky smile. “First beautiful, now missing me? Damn, I must have done a number on you.”

Trip stared down at her, not a hint of humor on his face. “No denying that.”

They stopped in front of Annie's booth, Emery's expression unreadable, as her gaze went past him, her eyes going wide. She said something under her breath he couldn't quite make out and ran a hand over her face. He almost laughed until he turned around to see what had stirred her up and his eyes landed on his brothers, now almost to them.

“Shit.”

“Glad to see it's not just me who finds this awkward.” Emery started away as Trip reached for her hand, stopping her. And damn it all to hell. Warmth spread through him, every nerve ending at full attention, attuned to the feel of her hand in his, its softness, the scab on her palm that had yet to heal. His eyes flicked down and then up to hers, and he knew he needed to pull away, but he couldn't bring himself to let go.

“Don't go,” he whispered. “You should meet them formally.”

“Why?” Emery asked, and despite her facade, he heard the hitch in her voice. Was she feeling what he felt? Like eight years of pent-up emotions had burst free, refusing to stay contained another second.

“Because, I—”

“Hey, brother,” Alex said, smacking Trip on the back just enough to cause him to lurch forward into Emery, her forehead connecting with his chest.

“Ow.” She stepped back, rubbing the spot, which sent Alex into hysterics.

“Dude, you hit his chest. Not his head or even his chin. His
chest.
What are you, four-eight?”

Nick, the forever nice guy, reached out to her. “Are you okay?”

But her eyes were on Alex. “Five-two and a half, thank you. What are you? Five-ten instead of six-two or -three like them? I bet you needed psych sessions as a kid to boost your self-esteem, didn't you?”

Alex grinned over at Trip. “I like her. You can keep her.”

Emery started to bark out a retort as Trip stepped between them. “All right, then, show's over. Emery was just asking me to help her aunt lift something heavy.”

But when they all turned toward Annie-Jean's booth, it became apparent that their little exchange had an audience. A large audience. Trip peered down the long row of booths, and every one of them had a town resident half-hanging over his or her table or just straight in the path, readying their gossip.

“Christ Almighty.” He sighed heavily and eyed his brothers. “Go, please, before they publish an article in the morning
Tribune
.”

Alex smirked, then spread his hands out like he was showcasing a news headline. “Sexy jockey gets it on with the Hamilton brothers. Full story on pages six and nine.'”

Emery's face lit with fresh rage. “Cute. You know, you really are a piece of—”

Trip gripped Emery's hips and spun her around, easing her toward Annie-Jean's booth. “Yes, yes, he is, but you saying it out loud with Pastor Reagan in earshot won't change it.” Then he focused on Nick, pleading with him to help.

“Okay, we've had our fun,” Nick said, grabbing Alex around the neck and steering him away. “We're heading to Rudy's for the game. Come on by when you're done.”

Trip waved good-bye to his brothers, then stepped up in front of Annie-Jean expectantly. “All right, Ms. Annie-Jean, what did you need me to lift?”

Annie-Jean smiled brightly as her gaze traveled between Emery and Trip. “Sorry, what did you ask?”

“You said you needed Trip to lift something, Annie. Where is it?” Emery said.

“Sorry,” Annie-Jean replied, still grinning. “I must have been mistaken.”

“I
can't believe you didn't call me.”

Emery sighed heavily. “He was there for all of five seconds. I couldn't just whip out my cell to call you. But do we really have to go in here?”

Kate had Emery by the arm, dragging her toward Rudy's like a kid to a dentist appointment. “Yes! They said they were going to watch a game, and Annie promised us drinks.”

“That was hours ago. There's no way they're still here.”

But by the looks of the bar as they entered, it was entirely possible they were there—along with every other person in town.

“I'm sure they didn't go straight here. They probably looked around the festival and then came here after, like us.”

Just inside the bar, Emery tried to spy Trip. At the very least, maybe he wasn't there. But as she followed her friend toward the bar, she realized she wasn't so lucky.

Perched on three stools in front of one of the widescreens sat Nick, Alex, and Trip. Thankfully, their eyes were all locked on the game, so maybe she and Kate could slip in without—

“All right, just look natural,” Kate said, taking a seat all of two bar stools away from the men.

“Could you be a little more subtle?” Emery whispered.

Kate eyed her innocently. “This
is
me being subtle.”

Before Emery could argue with her friend, a man from behind the bar stepped up in front of them and pressed his elbows into the bar, leaning toward them. “What can I get you fine ladies?” He had a nice smile and clearly spent a lot of time in the gym, but he also had that I-screw-anything-that-walks vibe.

Kate grinned, and Emery thought she needed to get her friend a decent boyfriend before she hooked up with every guy in her path in search of the right one. “Corona with lime. Two,” Kate said, motioning between herself and Emery.

“Coming up.”

The bartender left, and Emery started to ask Kate how many drinks they had to have before they could leave, when she noticed Kate's attention had shifted to the Hamilton brothers. “Who's that?”

Craning her neck so she could see, Emery took in the pretty blonde standing beside Trip, her hand resting delicately on his arm, a flirty smile on her face. Then she leaned in closer to the bar, pushing her arms closer together and, in effect, exposing more of her cleavage.

A sharp pang of jealousy shot through Emery's chest, so intense she wasn't sure exactly what it was until she caught Kate's expression.

“Oh, Em.”

“No, I'm not—”

“We talked about this. He's not an option.”

Emery's gaze shifted back to the woman and Trip's grin back at her, and she thought she might break down right there. But then the bartender brought back their beers and returned to his leaning position directly in front of Emery. “I know you,” he said.

“You do, huh?” she asked, telling herself she could flirt with someone else, too. She didn't need Trip. Taking a long pull of her beer and setting it back on the bar, she matched his lean.

“Yeah, I'm a big fan.”

She smiled, but before she could reply, Trip stepped up beside her. “I'm sure you have something else you need to do. Right, Gage?”

Gage straightened, a hint of worry on his face as he took in Trip standing far too close to Emery. “Right.” He smiled once more between Kate and Emery. “Y'all give me a yell if you need something else.”

“I'll let you know if they need something.”

Emery glared at Trip once Gage walked way. “What the hell was that?”

He shook his head. “What?”

“I don't need you running interference for me.”

“Actually, with Gage you do. Unless STIs are your thing; then by all means, carry on.”

“What's your problem?”

“Depends on the day, but right this moment it's you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Sitting over here with Gage. You think that's the way I want one of my jockeys behaving?”

Rage rocketed through Emery and she stood up, getting in Trip's face. “You don't get to stand over there flirting with Ms. Blonde and Perfect and then pass judgment on me for talking to someone.”

He leaned into her, lowering his voice. “I wasn't flirting. Sam is an old friend and—”

“Right, I know just what kind of friend you mean. It's nice to know you haven't been lonely the last eight years.”

Trip's eyes flashed with anger. “You don't know anything about what I've been through.”

“
You've
been through? You—”

“I have been a half self. Breathing, but not living. Experiencing, but not caring. I have woken up every single day with one woman's face in my mind, only to know I couldn't do a thing about. Don't sit there and act like you know what's in my head. You don't know. You don't have the first damn clue.”

Emery blinked, trying and failing to calm her breathing. “I . . .” She bit her lip, and Trip's gaze dropped, holding there like it took every bit of his willpower not to take over the job. She wanted to tell him that she'd missed him, that it had broken her in two when he left, that she was seventeen and yet that hurt had remained with her like it happened just yesterday. But they couldn't do this—be this. Whatever
this
was.

“Hey, Trip, I was just . . .”

Trip and Emery both looked over to see the blonde standing next to them. Her eyes shifted between them, and that was when Emery realized just how closely they stood together—their bodies nearly touching. She swallowed hard and took a step back, her gaze finding the floor. She didn't want to see Trip with this woman. With any woman.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt,” she said.

Trip cleared his throat and sat back onto the bar stool behind him. “You didn't. Samantha Watson, this is Emery Carlisle.”

Emery started to say hello when Samantha's mouth fell slack, and she stared for a long time before returning to Trip. “Emery, as in . . .”

“Yeah,” Trip said, his tone hard, but below the surface lay something else. Something like hurt—but
he
left
her
. He didn't get to feel hurt. He left. She stayed and waited and longed for him to return, only to have him never call. Not even after the accident. Not once did he act as though she meant anything to him, so what was this? Some mind game to pull her back under only to run away again?

Frustrated, Emery turned back to ask Kate if they could leave, only to find the stool beside her empty. Dammit! She scanned the bar, hoping to spot her red-haired friend, and came up empty.

“It's really nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you.”

Emery's head snapped up. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Samantha offered a warm smile, and Emery felt guilty for thinking such horrible things about her earlier. It wasn't Samantha's fault that she was tall and blonde and too pretty to be real. “I said I've heard a lot about you.” She looked to Trip, as though to make sure it was okay she said that, but he just tossed up his hands and called down for Gage.

“What's up, man?” Gage asked.

“My regular. Then whatever they want.” Trip motioned to Emery and Samantha, like they were all friends, but nothing about the moment felt natural. Samantha clearly knew Trip, but how well? Were they friends or more? She wanted to ask but didn't want to come across as the jealous ex-girlfriend, especially when she'd never technically been his girlfriend. Her heart ached at the truth in her thoughts.

Gage flashed the women his best smile, which received a prompt glare from Trip. “What?”

“I'll have another Corona, please,” Emery said, interrupting before Trip went all alpha on them again, and Samantha asked for the same. Silence fell over them, each second more awkward than the last. Then, unable to stand it another second, she faced Samantha. “So, how do you know Trip?”

Samantha stared at Trip, clearly at a loss for what to say, and Emery's stomach seeped into the floor. “Oh . . . right,” Emery said. “I really should . . .” She glanced around the bar again. Where the hell was Kate?

Trip's cell rang then, saving them from continuing down this path of hell, and he peered down at it, then back at the ladies. “Sorry, I need to take this.” He eyed Emery. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine; go.”

He nodded to her, then walked outside to take the call, and Emery considered making a quick exit herself, when Samantha took Trip's seat. “We never had what you had, if that's what you're wondering. I don't think he's ever had with anyone what he had with you.”

Emery searched the bar for Kate again, cursing her for leaving Emery alone with this mess. Of all the conversations in the world, this had to make the top five most awkward.

“Yeah, well, we weren't . . . he didn't . . . it was a long time ago.”

Samantha cocked her head. “I don't know.” Her gaze traveled to the door, where Trip stood, his eyes locked on Emery. “It doesn't seem so long ago to me.”

Emery tried to swallow and failed. What she wouldn't give for that to be true.

He reached them, then, his soapy scent hitting her full-on, mixing with the alcohol, making her want to take chances she shouldn't take. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked.

The bar buzzed with life now, packed from wall to wall, every seat filled. There was no place to go, and Triple Run liked gossip as much or more than Crestler's Key.

“I don't want to talk in here.”

“Then come for a walk with me.”

Emery glanced to the door. “But, my friend, Kate, she'll worry. She's—”

“She's fine. See?” Trip guided Emery's face to the left, where Kate sat with Nick and Alex, shouting at the widescreen right along with them. She couldn't help but smile. Kate had been raised with three brothers, all very athletic, so she'd grown up wearing cleats instead of ballet shoes and helmets instead of crowns. It felt nice to see her in her element.

“All right, then.”

“Okay?” He stared down at her, his eyes full of warmth and memories, and she wanted to tell him she would go anywhere he asked, anytime. Just say when and show the way. But she couldn't afford to put herself out there like that. Not again.

“Lead the way.”

The streets of Triple Run were quiet for the early evening, the shops all closing down around them, the air cool but not cold—just the way Trip liked it. He'd spent years working out what he'd say to Emery if he had her alone and the moment was right, and here it was. A clear night with a nearly full moon, empty sidewalks, and the quiet rustling of trees in the wind their only song. This was his opportunity to tell her everything—why he'd left, why he didn't call, why he wanted to and why he hated himself for not being brave. But nothing about the timing felt right.

Emery hadn't even ridden yet. She'd just started working for him, and she hoped to re-launch her career under his name. How could he complicate all that by telling her he'd never once forgotten her?

He couldn't, so instead he went with the truth. “I like having you here, but at the same time, it's . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“It's hard.”

“Yes. I had no right to step in when you were talking to Gage, and I'm sorry for that. But I wasn't wrong—he's the last guy in town you should date.”

Emery grinned over at him. “Then who should I date in town?”

He smirked back. “No one. Of course.”

She laughed, swatting his arm, and without thinking, he took her hand, threaded his fingers with hers. They fell into silence as they walked, a thousand words in the air that refused to settle into logical thought. He shouldn't be here with her, yet he couldn't stay away, and the thought of her with someone else, especially someone in town, made him want to break something—or fall apart. He'd spent so much time trying to forget her that he'd never stopped to realize that maybe you never forgot your first love. Maybe that person stayed with you for the rest of your life.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Emery said as they reached the bridge overlooking the Cherokee River. “What do you want to talk about?” She turned to face him, leaning up against the bridge's railing, and hell if he didn't want to take her right there—scoop her into his arms and say screw everything else. Just let them be together and he'd figure out the rest. But he knew that wasn't reality, not for him and not for her.

He took a small step toward her and lifted her hand, running his thumb slowly over her palm, careful to trace each line. “I don't want to talk. There are a lot of things I want to do with you, but talking isn't one of them.”