The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River) (17 page)

“I won’t keep you,” Cooper said, moving deeper into the hall. “In fact, we can discuss the medal you won’t admit you have after dinner so you won’t be late to family night.”

She laughed. “And what, you’ll just wait on the stoop? It’s freezing outside, in case you haven’t noticed.”

His smile deepened. “I guess Luke didn’t get the family-night memo. He invited me to have dinner.”

Emma’s brows sank into a frown. “Luke invited you to
family night
?” she repeated. “Did he clear it with Libby? Because she has some very specific rules about what is and is not allowed on family night.”

“I guess,” Cooper said with a shrug. “He didn’t mention it when he invited me.”

Emma’s brows dipped. “That is so
. . . unfair.
I didn’t know we could invite other people! Libby was very specific—
don’t make any plans tonight, Emma, it’s family night, Emma, don’t let me down, Emma
,” she said, mimicking her sister. “Whatever.” She sighed, glanced at what looked like the entrance to the family room and pursed her lips.

That kiss slipped into Cooper’s thoughts again and wended around, taking root. He didn’t want to think about it. He damn sure didn’t want to be another notch in her belt—which was exactly the way he’d felt when she’d kissed him under the stars. He liked to think he had some standards.

“Well,” Emma said, and cast a look over him as she stepped off the stairs. Now she was standing in front of him, close enough that he could touch her. Cooper shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from it.

She looked up at him with a wry smile. “Don’t think because you kissed me once that you can just waltz in here and make yourself at home.”

He laughed, fighting the urge to touch her. “I think you really are delusional. Once again, I must point out that you have the facts wrong. You
kissed
me
, Emma.”

“Keep telling yourself that, big guy,” she said, and walked to the door of the family room. She paused at the threshold and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Well? Come on, if you’re coming. Trust me, you do
not
want to be late to family night.” With that, she disappeared into the room.

Cooper didn’t follow her immediately. He stood there, his head down for a moment, focusing on one slow breath at a time. He didn’t know what was in his head about Emma Tyler, exactly, other than the fact that it was very different than what had been in his head when he’d shown up in Pine River a few days ago. But he could tell from the way his body was reacting to hers, the way he was tolerating her indifference, that internally, he’d begun to play a little Russian roulette with the big ball of fire that was Emma. The woman who could disgust and mystify just by breathing, who could make a man feel his knees with a look.

And he was the guy who usually saw right through women like her, who avoided her kind of drama in his life. Yet here he was, struggling to keep his hands to himself. Wanting to dine with a family he scarcely knew because she would be there, too.

This could not be good.

This was slightly alarming.

THIRTEEN

Emma gave Madeline an accusatory look when she entered the living room. In return, Madeline beamed at her and said gleefully, “Don’t look at me!” She moved past Emma to the dining room with a stack of plates. “Luke invited him, and I had nothing to do with it.”

Emma didn’t believe that for a moment. There was no point in talking to Luke, or any of them, for that matter. She’d never seen a group of people so eager to include a total stranger in their number. It was as if they’d been stuck up here on the mountain, waiting for someone to make it to the top and give them the news about the rest of the world.

Emma carried on to the kitchen, and went directly to the open bottle of wine, ignoring Luke, Libby, and Sam, who were all seated at the kitchen bar.

“Hello, Emma.” It was Sam who’d spoken. For some reason, the things Emma said never ruffled him. And because they didn’t, she had a special fondness for him. Sam was a recovering alcoholic, and oddly enough, sometimes Emma felt as if she and Sam were more alike than anyone else. They both sucked at letting go of things from their pasts, apparently. Emma smiled at Sam over her shoulder. “Hi, Sam.”

Sam looked pointedly at her, then nodded at Libby.

“Okay, all right. Hello, Libby. Hello, Luke,” she said with a bit of irritation, and turned back to her wine.

Someone grabbed her from behind, startling Emma so badly that she shrieked. It was Luke, who wrapped her in his ironclad band of arms and squeezed tight. “Hel
lo
, Emma,” he said, and let her go, but not before tousling the top of her head.

“Hey!” Emma protested irritably, and tried to smooth the hair that had come loose from her ponytail.

“Oh hey, dude, there you are,” Luke said.

That, Emma supposed, was Luke blaring the trumpets to announce that Cooper had come into the kitchen. But even if Luke hadn’t said it, Emma would have known. She could
feel
him, his presence big and bold, pressing against her. She turned around, and of course, Cooper’s eyes were on her. Firmly affixed to her, as a matter of fact. Boring holes right through her.

“Can I get you a beer?” Luke asked.

“Thanks,” Cooper said.

Emma poured more wine into her glass. She took a fortifying sip, then turned around to face the group.

“Oh look, it’s starting to snow,” Libby said, peering at the kitchen window in front of which Emma happened to be standing. All heads came up and riveted on her.

As if Emma could possibly feel any more awkward. She put down her wine and walked out of the kitchen as Sam filled them in on the possibility of accumulation.

The dining room, with its wall of double-paned windows, had been added on to the original house and required two steps down to enter. Madeline was setting the table. She’d already fired up the potbellied stove for warmth, a requisite in the room at this time of year.

“I’ll do that,” Emma offered, taking the tray of silver from Madeline.

“Thanks,” Madeline said. She watched Emma methodically lay out the silver for a moment, then pretended to straighten a leftover Thanksgiving centerpiece before leaning to one side to glance into the kitchen. She then scurried over to Emma like the rat she was. “So, he seems like a really nice guy,” she said low. “Luke likes him a lot.”

Emma paused what she was doing and glared at her sister. “What the hell, Madeline?”

“What?” Madeline asked innocently. “I’m just saying.”

“You’re just saying, my ass. Whatever happened to strong, independent women who don’t need men? Whatever happened to letting things happen organically rather than trying to steer them?”

“Whatever happened to being less defensive?” Madeline countered. “Why can’t you just be friendly and leave it at that?
You’re
the one that keeps making a big deal out of him. Why is that, Emma? I mean, since you came to Homecoming Ranch, you’ve been . . .”
She paused, pressed her lips together, as if she caught herself from saying something she didn’t want to say.

Emma’s head came up. “I’ve been what?”

“I don’t know. Rudderless? Adrift?
Cranky?
And then this guy shows up, this big, seriously good-looking guy, and you act like he’s poison. Of course we’re wondering what’s going on. If it’s not a big deal, then why not be nice to him?”

“And while I’m busy being nice, I guess it doesn’t bother anyone that he is badgering me for something I don’t have?”

“Just tell him you don’t have it,” Madeline said. “You don’t have to be such a
. . .”
Her voice trailed away and she averted her gaze.

“A bitch,” Emma finished for her. She couldn’t help but laugh a little at Madeline’s guilty look. “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time I’ve been called that.” She smiled wryly at the absurdity of everything—who would ever understand how difficult it was for her to be the sort of woman who always said the right thing? The kind of woman who instantly knew how to put everyone at ease? Emma had never grasped the softer side of her personality—if it even existed—even on those few occasions she’d really tried.

She was suddenly reminded of herself at fifteen, trying so hard to fit in when Laura had friends over for a sleepover. Laura had always included Emma, even when it was clear her friends didn’t want Emma to be included. On one of those nights, they’d played a silly game, a loves-me, loves-me-not sort of game. When it was Brenda Kingsley’s turn, she wanted reassurance from the others that she was cute enough, popular enough, for Jose Pachecho. To Emma, it had been a ridiculous question. In the rigid and cruel class system of high school society, of which they’d all been citizens, there was no moment when Brenda would be cute or cool enough for Jose Pachecho. Emma could see by the expressions on the other girls they were all thinking the same thing.
No
, she’d said to Brenda.
You will never be good enough for Jose
.

She hadn’t said it flatly, or without some regard for Brenda’s feelings. Honestly, Emma thought she’d said it as kindly as it could be said. Not so, Laura told her later.
You don’t tell someone like Brenda that she’s not good enough!
The girls hated her for being so mean, Laura said. Emma had tried to argue that they were all thinking the same thing, and maybe Brenda needed to hear the truth.

Laura had looked at her as if she were crazy. Of
course
they were thinking the same thing, Laura had said. But they would never
say
it.

“I don’t know if I can pretend not to be a bitch,” Emma said now, shaking off that ancient memory. “I’ll try, but I think that horse has left the barn.”

“I’m sorry,” Madeline said, looking stung. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t care.”

What Emma had meant to convey was that she wasn’t easily wounded, but of course, Madeline didn’t take it that way. “You
never
care. You’re so damn hard to deal with sometimes, you know that?” she said, the injured party now, and walked out of the dining room.

“Yes,” Emma muttered. “I know.” A curl of shame wrapped around her heart, and she stared down at the box of silverware without really seeing it. How did anyone become something different than what they were at their core? It was hard as hell to live in this skin.
Nothing but brass tacks coming out of that mouth.

The sound of laughter from the kitchen reminded Emma of her task; she finished setting the table.

When Madeline announced dinner was served, they all trooped into the dining room and took their seats. Somehow, whether by conspiracy or sheer dumb luck, Emma was seated directly across from Cooper. There would be no avoiding his intent gaze now. There would definitely be no forgetting that kiss now. Or the way he’d put her back on her heels. With him sitting across from her, his chin and cheeks shadowed by a beard, his hair finger-combed, there was no possible way Emma could avoid the lust and distrust and insecurity and interest that was beginning to leak into her belly in a confusingly sweet-and-sour mix.

As the salad was passed around, Luke regaled them with all the places he’d taken Cooper today. Which, to Emma, sounded like a big canyon where they’d climbed some rocks. That was the last thing she would do on a day like this.

“You should try it,” Cooper said, and Emma realized he was talking to her.

She glanced around them to be doubly sure. “Try what? Trespassing into closed national forests?”

“Luke!” Libby said, glancing nervously at Sam. “You didn’t take him up there to do that, did you? Those roads are closed.”

“Yeah,” Luke said with a wave of his hand, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe we crossed a boundary or two. You have to break a rule every now and then.”

“Please don’t suggest that to her,” Sam said, pointing to Libby, and settled back, draping his arm across the back of Libby’s chair. “We finally convinced her
not
to break rules, remember?”

“Point taken,” Luke said to Sam, and smiled fondly at Libby.

Sam was referring to Libby’s infamous meltdown last summer. Libby had lost it over a bad breakup and then would not obey a restraining order to stay away from her ex-douchebag’s children, to whom she’d become very close. Which, in that way these things had of working themselves out, was how she’d come to be with Sam. As a deputy sheriff, Sam had enforced the restraining order.

“I meant canyoneering,” Cooper said to Emma. “Climbing rocks. Sliding down waterfalls. It’s fun.”

“I’ll pass,” Emma said.

“You don’t like the outdoors?”

“I like the outdoors just fine. But I do
n’t like climbing rocks.”

“Me either!” Madeline said. “Luke is forever trying to get me to do that with him. I’d rather eat nails.”

“That’s my girl,” Luke said with a laugh.

“So what’d you think of the canyon, Cooper?” Sam asked.

“I thought it was fantastic. It’s perfect for the kind of work we do. We want to stage one of our extreme outings here late next spring if we can get the approvals we need.”

No, no, no . . .
he was coming back? Emma couldn’t get rid of him
now
, in the dead of winter! How long would he stay as spring turned into summer, when this place was beautiful and there were so many things to do? She knew the kind of guy Cooper was—he’d bounce from one sport to the next and never leave.

Wait
. . .
was
she
going to be here next year?

“You’ll love it here in the spring and summer,” Sam said, further ruining Emma’s hope for peace. “There’s a lot to do.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Cooper said, and took a plate of lasagna Madeline handed him. “Thank you.”

“There’s really not much beyond climbing rocks, though,” Emma pointed out, suddenly desperate that he not come back, desperate that she have this place to herself if she needed it. “And Pine River is far from any real city. The closest one is Montrose. There’s only one decent restaurant in town, and it’s not really even decent by LA standards. And there’s one tiny grocery and Wal-Mart. No Trader Joe’s here. No women to speak of. You’d be happier closer to Denver.”

“Don’t extend the welcome mat too far, Emma,” Luke said wryly. “Sure wouldn’t want Cooper to trip on it.”

Cooper laughed. “I do appreciate your concern for me, Emma. But you don’t need restaurants or groceries or even women to zip over forest.” Luke and Sam laughed at that.

Emma shrugged. “I’m just saying,” she said, and picked up her fork, stabbing at the lasagna.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Madeline said, sounding like a matriarch. “Are you originally fro
m LA, Cooper?”

“No. Texas,” Cooper said. “My partners and I grew up there.”

“Texas,”
Libby said dreamily. “I always wanted to go there. It sounds so mythical. Cowboys and horses and big orange sunsets.”

“Maybe it used to be mythical. Now it’s like any state, just bigger and hotter.”

“Your family is there?” Madeline asked.

“What’s left of them,” Cooper said, and looked down at his plate. “My dad died a few years ago. My mother is still there.”

“No siblings?” Madeline asked.

Emma noticed the slight hesitation in Cooper’s devouring of the lasagna. “I have a brother,” he said.

“I feel your pain,” Libby said. “I have two. Twins, even.”

Cooper smiled.

“You never know what you’re going to get when it comes to siblings. Isn’t that right, girls?” Libby said, and laughed.

Madeline frowned. “Would you like to rephrase that?”

“Why should she? It’s true,” Emma said, and sipped her wine.

“That didn’t come out right,” Libby quickly clarified. “I mean that I consider myself to be very lucky.” She smiled, clearly pleased with herself. But Libby couldn’t possibly think she was lucky to have landed Emma as a sister. The idea struck Emma as so amusing, she couldn’t help a laugh.

“Don’t laugh at her,” Madeline chided Emma, and smiled at the men. “I think what Emma finds amusing is that our father didn’t clue us in as to each other’s existence when he was alive. So to discover we
had
siblings was a very big surprise for us. I guess you never know what you’re going to get in a father, either.”

“I’m sorry,” Libby said. “I made a very lame joke. The truth is that the three of us have a really complicated story.” She smiled at Cooper. “But if you’d known my dad, you would never have guessed he wasn’t Father of the Year. He was very personable.”

That was Libby for you, always trying to make Grant into some sort of misguided saint, and it made Emma furious. “He was a
dick
, Libby,” she blurted.

“Emma!” Libby cried.

“Well, he was. I don’t think it’s fair to me or Madeline to portray him as a good guy.”

Libby colored slightly. “Look, I know he had his issues, but we all do. He wasn’t malicious—”

“Are you kidding?” Emma said, suddenly sitting up, suddenly angrier than she’d been in a very long time, suddenly
raging
inside. “Do you really believe that? Let me tell you just how malicious he was, Libby. He
slept
with
Laura
!”