The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River) (14 page)

Unfortunately, in the winter, there was not enough to keep five grown men occupied.

Moreover, the opportunities to grow Libby’s vision were not great. The ranch was too remote, so far removed from services and medical facilities that no one wanted to come. Libby was working tirelessly to shore up the program, and Emma was truly in awe of her tenacity—she would have given up long ago.

Of all of them, Libby made life look so
. . . effortless
. After her bad meltdown last summer, the result of a relationship gone way south, she’d bounced right back. Now she took a little pill each morning and she was happy in love, full of big ideas and smiles.

Emma wished she could be more like that, but really, she was more like Madeline. It would probably kill Madeline if Emma ever said that aloud, but it was true. Like Madeline, Emma was straightforward, never afraid to say what was on her mind. That is where their similarities ended. Madeline had more tact and a surprisingly big heart. She could learn to love anything, like dogs and damaged veterans and widows. Emma couldn’t seem to love anything.

Madeline wasn’t ready to give up on Homecoming Ranch yet, either, it was apparent. She was going to marry here, maybe even start a family here. She was starting her life over here.

That was okay with Emma. They could keep this money-eating ranch for now. Personally, she’d put a lot of money aside and could even float the ranch for a few months if necessary, if for no other reason than to have a place to be. That was what Emma needed from the universe right now—a place to be, a place to figure out how to make her way back to the world.

But eventually, she’d leave. Emma knew herself too well. She’d go on with her life and forget her sisters. It was an ugly but certain truth about her.

It was Madeline who shook Emma out of her thoughts by mentioning Grant. “I ran into Grant’s friend Sylvia Breslin,” she said. “Know her?”

Emma shook her head.

“Yeah, of course,” Libby said. “She’s been selling real estate forever in this town. What about her?”

“So Michelle Catucci, the banker? She introduced us, and mentioned that I was one of Grant Tyler’s daughters. You know, like that’s my identity,” Madeline said with a snort. “Anyway, Sylvia perked up. She said she’d heard about what had happened with Grant and his kids, and Libby’s meltdown last summer—”

“Oh my God!” Libby exclaimed. “I swear, you have
one
small meltdown in Pine River and no one will forget it.”

Libby failed to acknowledge that hers was a pretty spectacular meltdown, judging by what Jackson had told Emma—she’d taken a golf club to a man’s truck.

“Don’t worry about it,” Madeline said to Libby. “Anyway, Sylvia said that just before Grant got sick, he’d been talking to her about buying some property in Vegas. And I was like, seriously? Because he couldn’t pay his bills. But Sylvia said that’s what she’d heard and thought he was planning to move before he got sick. She asked if he had ended up buying property there—you know, like I would have any idea.”

The mention of Grant and Las Vegas was an unwelcome jolt of memory for Emma. She put down her fork, her appetite gone.

“Vegas,” Libby said, her voice full of disgust. “That’s just like Dad, to plan something without mentioning it to anyone. What would he do there?”

“Gamble, among other things,” Emma said. “How do you think he made the money to buy the ranch in the first place? It’s not like he ever held a real job.”

“Who would know?” Madeline said.

“Seriously?” Libby asked. “I mean, do you know that for a fact? I didn’t think you’d had much contact with him.”

“I didn’t,” Emma said. “My mom kept in touch with him.” She looked off, unwilling—unable—to think of how her mother had kept in touch with Grant after what had happened.

“So what was he like?” Madeline asked curiously.

“How the fuck would I know?” Emma said sharply, surprising even herself.

“Hey,”
Libby said. “She was just asking.”

“You think I knew him any better than either of you? He was never around for more than a minute, and when he was, he made trouble for everyone. He was a prick.”

“Hey!” Libby exclaimed again. “He was still our father.”

“Yeah, right,” Emma said. “And how’d that work out for you, Libby? He wouldn’t give you the time of day even when he was on his deathbed.”

Libby gasped.

Emma hadn’t meant to wound her with that remark, she’d meant to make Libby see just how awful
. . .
forget what she meant. If Libby hadn’t figured out what a prick Grant was by now, she never would.

“Well, I didn’t know him at all,” Madeline said, her back up now. “I don’t know if he was a prick or a saint because I couldn’t even pick him out of a lineup. You know what I remember about him? That he smelled like smoke. That’s it, that’s how much contact I had with my father. So pardon me if I am a little curious about the man who abandoned me. I just thought maybe you could give me some insight since you were closer to him than any of us.”

“But I
wasn’t
closer,” Emma said. “I’m not close to anyone.”

“No surprise there,” Madeline said flatly.

“He was always nice to me,” Libby said, sounding uncertain. “I mean, when he was around. Which he never was.”

“He wasn’t nice to me and he wasn’t around. He lied about everything,” Emma said. “That’s what you need to know about him, Madeline. He was a lying bastard.”

Madeline and Libby looked at each other. There it was again, that exchange of knowing looks between her sisters, the unspoken unity against Emma and her mouth. Emma didn’t blame them one bit, and, in fact, she sided with them. Her sharp tongue had put a damper on an otherwise perfectly enjoyable evening with them, had perhaps even taken a bite out of their fragile camaraderie. Her only regret was that she hadn’t meant to bite. Her reaction had been disturbingly visceral.

“I’m sorry,” Emma said tightly.

“It’s fine, it’s all right,” Madeline started, but Emma waved her hand.

“It’s
not
all right. Look, I can’t change—” She stopped. She wasn’t going to apologize for who she was. She felt as if she’d been doing that for a very long time. “It’s not my intent,
never
my intent, to hurt anyone.”

“Then why do you keep doing it?” Libby muttered.

Emma glanced down at her hands. “Touché, Libby. I wish I had an answer for you.”

“Well, that’s news,” Libby said pertly. “Can’t remember the last time you didn’t have an answer for everything.”

Emma sighed. She signaled the waiter. “Check, please,” she said.

“Madeline, is your mom coming to the wedding?” Libby asked, having turned away from Emma now, her attention on her other, better sister. She and Madeline began to discuss the wedding again, leaving Emma out.

Precisely where she belonged. Out.

TEN

At a quarter past eight, the three sisters emerged from the Stake Out. Emma was tired, ready to retreat to her room at Homecoming Ranch, but as she pointed her key fob at her car and clicked to unlock the doors, Madeline suddenly gasped. “My phone!”

“What about it?” Libby asked, glancing at her watch.

“It’s not in my purse! I must have left it on the table.”

“Okay, well, can you get a ride with Emma?” Libby asked, walking backward and away from them. “I’m supposed to pick Sam up at eight thirty and I’m going to be late.”

“Sure,” Emma said, and waved at Madeline, indicating she should go back and look for her phone.

“Thanks, Emma!” Libby hurried away from them.

A few minutes later, Madeline emerged from the restaurant. “It’s not there. I think I left it with Luke. You can drive me to Elm Street, right?”

Elm Street! Emma suppressed a groan. She did not want to drive to Leo’s, even if it was only a few blocks away and on the way home. She didn’t want to see Cooper again. She glanced at her watch.

“What?” Madeline said to her hesitation. “I’m sorry if I am inconveniencing you, but it’s like a block out of your way.”

“If you were inconveniencing me, I’d say so. Just come on,” Emma said, and stepped off the curb, headed for her car.

Madeline reluctantly followed.

Surely Cooper had left by now, Emma reasoned as Madeline searched her bag, muttering about all the places she might have left her phone. How long did a complete stranger stay at someone’s house?

“Call Luke and ask,” Emma suggested as she backed out of her parking space. “Use my phone.”

“I would, but he keeps his phone in his pocket and never hears it. Do you know how maddening that is? What is the point of having a phone if you can’t hear it and never answer it? Anyway, I’ll just run in and get it.”

When they turned onto Elm Street, Emma’s exasperation swelled at the sight of Cooper’s rental car in front of the Kendrick house. She unthinkingly sighed with displeasure.

Madeline made a sound of impatience and rolled her eyes. “Don’t get your panties in a wad,” she said. “I’ll only be a second.”

Emma pulled up at the fence. “I’ll wait.”

Madeline had hardly stepped out of the car when the front door of the house opened and light spilled out. Figures of two men emerged as Madeline went through the gate and half jogged up the walk.

On the porch, Madeline joined the two men, who Emma could now see were Cooper and Luke. Madeline threw her arms around Luke, then spoke to Cooper. Cooper turned to look at Emma’s car.

Emma groaned and slid a little lower in her seat.

Whatever Madeline was saying went on forever. The three of them kept speaking, a regular conversation in spite of the cold. Like they were old friends, catching up on many past years. Jesus, what could they possibly have to say to each other?
How was your dinner?
she imagined Madeline asking.
It was great, just great—haven’t had Hamburger Helper in years.

At last, at long last, Madeline and Luke went inside, and Cooper strolled down the steps and the walk, his hands shoved in his pockets and his formidable figure slipping in and out of the shadows beneath the mason-jar lights someone had hung up under the big elm tree.

Emma slid deeper into her seat.
Way
down, with a lot of wishful thinking that quickly evaporated when he tapped on her driver’s window.
“Shit,”
she muttered. She slowly pushed herself up, rolled down the window, and killed the engine. He’d slid down on his haunches beside the car door, and she looked at his face framed in the window, at how the shadows made him look even sexier than he’d looked at the Stake Out.

“
How was the Hamburger Helper?” Emma asked.

“What?” Cooper asked. “You mean the steak?”

Steak!
Bob never made anything that didn’t come from a box when she stuck around for dinner. She glared at the house.

Cooper smiled at her funnily. “It was good. How was
your
dinner? What’d you have, something light but heavy on the conscience?”

“Funny,” Emma said. She really didn’t like the way Cooper could see something in her no one else could see. She
did
feel guilty. And she didn’t like the way he was looking at her now, like he knew what was going on in her head. Emma abruptly opened the door, intending to topple him over, but Cooper was pretty agile and managed to stand and move before she could. “Sorry,” she said airily, and stepped out of the car.

It was cold; she leaned back against her car and folded her arms tightly over her sweater. She looked up at the night sky rather than into his piercing gray eyes.

The night was brilliant, a black swath of velvet between mountains, glittering with millions of stars that looked so close it seemed she could reach up and grab a handful. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Hey!”

Emma turned toward the sound of Madeline’s voice from somewhere near the house.

“Luke can’t find it, but he says it’s here. Just give me a couple of minutes more.” She disappeared back inside.

“Unbelievable,”
Emma sighed.

Cooper leaned up against her car beside her and tilted his head back to look up. His shoulder grazed hers, and Emma found herself pulling in a little tighter. It was instinct, a natural reflex. Protect yourself at all times from the advances of men who looked like him, men who attracted her on a supersonic level.

“I never think about stars like this in LA, do you? It’s like they don’t even exist there. Everything is so phony there that it’s really hard to imagine that there is this entire world out here,” she said.

Cooper didn’t respond. Emma glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He had shifted his gaze from the sky and was studying her. “What are you looking at?”

“Who, me?” His low voice trickled warmly through her like a good bourbon. “I’m enjoying the night sky as you suggested.” He smiled. Heat began to sluice through Emma.

“Whatever,” she said.

“I guess you think you won some little victory tonight,” he said.

She didn’t think that at all. But she said, “You’re kidding, right? Because I haven’t thought about it at all.”

“No? Not even a little?”

“No.”
Emma abruptly turned around to face him, her shoulder against her car, her arms folded tightly across her. “Out of sight, out of mind,” she said breezily. It was a lie, a huge lie. Cooper had been with her all through dinner, swirling around in the shadows.

“Funny
. . .
I thought about you,” he said, and damn him if he didn’t let his gaze slide down her body. “I thought, how am I going to get this girl to let go of that medal? Am I going to have to check her at every turn until we get this business resolved?”

Under any other circumstance, Emma might have invited him to check her now, check every inch and take his time. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing, because there was something veiled beneath his careful expression that made Emma feel a tiny bit short of breath.

“Would it be easier if I invited you to come up to the ranch and go through my things? Is that what you want?”

“Actually
. . .
that would be
great
,” he said, and looked at her mouth.

She wanted to kiss him. It occurred to her in that charged moment that maybe she’d been going about this all wrong. Maybe the way to get rid of Cooper was to seduce him. She didn’t exactly have the time or inclination to work out that reasoning, or how dangerous that thinking was for her, but brushing him off hadn’t gotten rid of him, so maybe he would forget the medal in favor of wanting her.

“You look like you want to kiss me,” Emma said flatly. “Are you going to try it, or are you going to deny that’s what you want again?”

He chuckled and touched his knuckle to her temple. “I thought we’d been over this already and established that you are delusional. One of us wants a kiss, and it’s not me. All I want is that medal.”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” she said, and shifted closer, her hand finding his waist and resting there lightly. He made no move to disengage from her hand. Emma wanted to remove it, to stop herself from doing something she would completely regret, but she was finding it impossible with the light of a million stars shining down on them on that cold winter night.

“I have a view of the mountain peaks from the window of my room at Homecoming Ranch. Every morning I wake up and think of the nearly twenty-eight years I’ve wasted looking at billboards.” She tilted her head back and looked him directly in the eye. “It makes me wonder about what else I’ve missed.” She eased forward so that her body was touching his.

Cooper smiled. He was allowing her to play this game with him, to see how far she would take it.

She would take it far enough that he would forget that stupid medal, she thought languidly. “I wonder what might have happened at the bat mitzvah if I’d let you kiss me.”

Now Cooper grinned. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and his fingers lingered on her neck. Sizzling spots of skin on a cold night. “Maybe if I’d let you kiss me, you wouldn’t have slept with a married man,” he said, and put his hand on her arm.

“I didn’t sleep with Reggie. I just let him pretend he had a chance.” That much was true. Emma had let him beg like the dog he was, had even allowed him to kiss her. And then she’d turned him down, had made him get a car to send her home . . . with his tie clip in her purse. Stupid bastard—as if she’d ever get mixed up with a married man whose daughter was an over-indulged twat.

“Women don’t get in limos of rich and powerful men just to tease them.” Cooper’s hand went around her waist, drawing her closer.

“How would you know?” she asked. “Why would I sleep with someone like Reggie when I had someone like you practically begging for it?” She rose up on her toes, her mouth now directly below Cooper’s. Her heart was suddenly galloping; she could smell his cologne, could almost feel his lips on hers.

“Who’s begging now?” Cooper muttered.

He had her there. Emma touched her mouth to his.

She was instantly consumed by a conflagration of emotion and intense desire. She touched her tongue to the seam of his lips, pushing past them, into his mouth. He pulled her closer, opening his mouth to her assault. He cupped her face and nibbled at her lip, moving his free hand from her waist to her hip. He pushed her into his body, hard and solid, all the right angles and planes.

Cooper Jessup kissed Emma as thoroughly as she was kissing him, his tongue tangling with hers, his arm holding her steady, his body pressed against hers so that there was nothing left to her imagination.
She had never kissed like this, never!
She was always a disinterested partner, wishing for it to be over. But with Cooper, she felt molten, her body melting into his, ready to give in to whatever he would do to her.
Eager
for it.

Then Cooper suddenly put his hands on her arms and lifted his head. He firmly set her back a step or two.

For a few moments, Emma was confused by that. She should be fumbling to remove her clothes just now, and she ran her little finger over her bottom lip as she stared uncertainly at him.

Cooper’s smile was confident. He casually swept hair from her cheek, like he knew her, like he had the right to touch her that way. “That may work on every man you’ve ever met
. . .
but it won’t work on me.”

What did he mean it wouldn’t work? It
had
worked, judging by the bulge she’d felt in his pants and the way he’d kissed her. “You liked it,” she pointed out.

“Of course I liked it. I’m a man. But I’m not Reggie. And I’m not Carl. I don’t fall at the feet of a beautiful woman just because she kisses me. Like I told you earlier—I know when I’m being played. You think I will give up on the medal if you let me have a few liberties. But I don’t take from women like that, Emma. With me, it’s an equal proposition.”

Emma recoiled from the truth about her intentions. “You’re such an ass,” she said, and tried to turn away, but Cooper pulled her back around to face him, locking her in place with both hands on her arms.

“Furthermore, the only thing you’ve done here tonight with that kiss is succeed in making yourself look guilty as hell.”

She pulled free and pushed him back with both hands. She opened her car door, reached in, and honked the horn. And then she climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

Cooper squatted down beside her before she could start the car and raise the window, his eyes eerily luminous in the light of the streetlamp. “I’ll see you around, Emma.” He was smiling as he spoke, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was a hot, devilish smile. It was a determined,
I-will-win
smile.

“The hell you will,” she said, and started her car.

Cooper stood up, gave her car two friendly taps, and then he sauntered off, like he owned this two-bit town.

Emma shouldn’t have even noticed his exit. She should not have given him another look. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen that very exit a million times in a million different films. But none of the film versions of that departure had ever made her feel so floaty.

Emma rolled up the window, then banged both fists several times against the steering wheel.

Jesus, what was she going to
do
with him?