Always the Best Man (5 page)

She took a deep breath of the sweet pine air. The smell of the forest surrounding Crimson always made her think of her childhood. But now as she walked down the sidewalk crowded with tourists, the town seemed a little brighter than it had been when she'd first returned.

A text came through from her mother, telling her Davey had fallen asleep on the couch so Emily should take her time returning home. What would she do without her mom? She hated asking for help when Meg had recently come through her own health scare, but her mother insisted she loved spending time with her grandson.

Baby steps. A job. Davey starting kindergarten. After things were settled, Emily could think about finding a place of her own. Jase hadn't mentioned a salary, and she didn't care. The job was enough.

The weather was perfect, brilliant blue skies, bright sun and a warm breeze blowing wisps of hair across her cheek. She shrugged out of the suit jacket and folded it over her arm. Just as she walked by a small café, her stomach grumbled.

When was the last time she'd eaten at a restaurant? Not since leaving Boston and then it was always for some law firm party or campaign event. She and Henry hadn't gone on a proper date since their honeymoon. Here in Crimson, Davey liked the quiet and routine of her mother's house.

She sent a quick text to her mom and walked into the restaurant. It was new in town, which she hoped meant unfamiliar people. This space had been a small clothing store the last time she'd been in Crimson. The inside was packed, and she wondered if she'd even get a table in the crowded dining room. It was a disappointment, but not a surprise, when the hostess told her there was nothing available. Just as she turned to leave, someone called her name.

A woman with flaming red hair was waving at her from a booth near the front window.

“You're Emily, right?” the woman asked as she stepped closer. “You must think I'm a crazy stalker, but I recognize you from the Fourth of July Festival. I'm April Sanders, a friend of Katie's.”

“The yoga teacher out at Crimson Ranch?”

April nodded. “I got the last empty booth. No pressure, but you're welcome to join me.”

Emily thought about declining. She knew Katie had a big group of friends. Hell, everyone in town loved her future sister-in-law. But even though she'd grown up in Crimson, Emily had no one. That's the way she'd wanted it since she got back to town. It was simpler, less mess.

But now the thought of a full meal with adult conversation actually appealed to her. So did spending time with April. The woman was a few years older than Emily but with her gorgeous copper hair and bright green eyes, she looked like she just stepped off the pages of a mountain resort catalog. “Are you sure you don't mind?”

“I'd love it,” April said, gesturing to the empty banquette across from her. “It feels strange to be eating alone when there's a crowd waiting for tables.”

Emily slid into the booth. “Thank you.”

A waitress came by the table almost immediately with a glass of water and another menu. Thankfully, the young woman was a stranger to Emily.

“Are you interested in staying incognito?” April asked when they were alone again. “You looked terrified the waitress might recognize you.”

Emily blew out a breath. “I don't have the best reputation in town.”

“A sordid past?” April leaned forward and lifted her delicate brows. “Do tell.”

“Nothing exciting,” Emily answered with a laugh. “Simple story of me thinking I was better than I should have as a girl. Life has a way of slapping you down if you get too big for your britches.” She shrugged. “People in small towns like to bear witness to it.”

“Life throws out curveballs whether you're big or small,” April agreed.

The waitress returned to the table and, as she took April's order, Emily studied the other woman. April wore no makeup but her fair skin was smooth, and her body fit under a soft pink T-shirt. She looked natural and fresh—perfect for Crimson. After Emily ordered, April smiled. “I met your mom a couple of times at Katie's bakery. She's lovely.”

Emily nodded. “One of the most amazing women I know.”

“How is she feeling?”

“She gets tired more quickly, but otherwise is back to her normal self. We were lucky the tumor was benign and they could remove it without damaging any other part of her brain.”

“She was lucky to have you and Noah come back to help her.”

“I wouldn't have been any other place but by her side. That's what family is for, you know?”

“I've heard,” April answered softly. “My friend Sara is the closest thing I have to family.”

Sara Travers, who ran the guest ranch outside town with her husband, Josh, had moved to Crimson a couple years ago from Los Angeles. Sara had been a famous child star and still acted when the right project came along. Otherwise, she and Josh—a Crimson native and one of Noah's good friends—spent their time managing Crimson Ranch. “Did you come to Crimson with Sara?”

April nodded. “We didn't plan on staying, but then she met Josh and...”

“The rest is history?”

“She had a tough couple of years and deserves this happiness.”

“If my brother is any indication, Crimson is
the
place for happy endings.” She smiled. “Have you found your happy-ever-after here?”

“It's a good place to build a life,” April said and Emily realized the words weren't an answer to the question.

“Or rebuild a life.” The waitress brought their orders, a club sandwich for Emily and a salad for April. Emily leaned across the table. “I like you and I appreciate the invitation to lunch, but after seeing what you eat I'm not sure we can be friends.” She pointed to the bowl of dark greens. “Your salad is so healthy I feel guilty picking up a fry from my plate. You don't even have dressing.”

The willowy redhead stared at her a long moment and Emily did a mental eye roll. She had the uncanny ability to offend without meaning to by tossing off comments before she thought about them. Her family was used to it and she'd managed to tame the impulse during her marriage but now...

April burst out laughing. “You remind me of Sara. She gives me grief about how I eat, too. I've always been healthy but became more diligent about what I put in my body when I was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago.”

Emily thumped her palm against her forehead. “Now I feel like an even bigger jerk.”

“Don't,” April said, still smiling. “I've been cancer-free for over five years.”

“My dad died when I was in high school. Pancreatic cancer.” She took a bite of sandwich, swallowing around the emotions that always bubbled to the surface when she thought about her father. “I still miss him.”

“It's difficult for you being back in Crimson.”

“I thought I'd made a life beyond this little town. Returning to Colorado has been an adjustment.”

April snagged a fry and popped it in her mouth. “So is divorce.”

“Are you...”

“My ex-husband left me during my cancer treatments,” April answered. She shrugged. “He couldn't handle me being sick.”

“Jerk,” Emily muttered.

“And yours?”

“Another jerk.” Emily pushed her plate closer to the center of the table, a silent invitation for April to take another fry. When she did, Emily figured this friendship might stand a chance. “I was the one who did the leaving, but it was because my ex couldn't handle that our son wasn't the child he expected or wanted. Henry needed everything to appear perfect, and I bought into the lie.”

“And lost yourself in the process?” April's voice was gentle, as if she'd had experience in that area.

Emily bit down on her lip, then nodded.

“I don't have the same history with this town as you, but I can tell you it's a good place to rediscover who you are.” April nabbed another fry. “Also to reinvent yourself.”

“Is that what you've done?”

“I'm working on it. In addition to Crimson Ranch, I also teach yoga at a studio on the south side of town. You should come in for a class.” April leaned closer. “I like you, but I'm not sure I can be friends with someone whose shoulders are so stiff they look like they could crack in half.”

Emily laughed, feeling lighter than she had in months. “I may,” she told April. “If only to support a friend.”

April held up her water glass. “Here's to new friends and new beginnings.”

Chapter Five

J
ase walked toward the front door of his office at 8:05 the following morning. His tie was slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp from the quick shower he'd taken, but he'd made it almost on time.

Downtown was quiet this early in the morning, one shopkeeper sweeping the sidewalk in front of his store as another arranged a rack of sale clothes. Life Is Sweet bakery would be crowded, so Jase hadn't bothered to stop for his daily dose of caffeine.

He'd been second-, third-and fourth-guessing his decision to offer Emily a job since the words had left his mouth yesterday. He wasn't sure how he was going to handle being so close to her every day, especially when she'd told him their kiss had been a mistake. But he'd also woken up with a sense of anticipation he hadn't felt in years. Not much else could ensure that he was
almost
on time.

He opened the door, then stopped short, checking his watch to make sure he hadn't lost a full day somewhere. The entire space had been transformed. The reception desk was clear other than the papers stacked neatly to one side. The wood furniture in the waiting area had been polished, and the top of the coffee table held a selection of magazines. There was even a plant—one that was green and healthy—on the end table next to the row of chairs where clients waited.

He caught the faint scent of lemon mixed with the richer smell of fresh coffee. His office hadn't looked this good in all the years he'd been here. There was a freshness to the space, as if it had been aired out like a favorite quilt.

He was still taking it all in when Emily appeared from the hallway.

“I hope you don't mind,” she said, almost shyly. “I started cleaning up before we talked about how you wanted it done.”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, realizing in his haste to be on time he'd forgotten to shave this morning. “I didn't even know it needed to be done. Are you some kind of a witch who can wiggle her nose and make things happen?” He shook his head. “Because I'm five minutes late and what you've done here looks like it took hours.” He glanced at the closed door to his office.

“I didn't touch anything in there. Yet.” She reached behind her and shook out her loose bun, blond hair falling over her shoulders. Jase was momentarily mesmerized, but then she gathered the strands and refastened the bun. “I came in early,” she told him, moving to stand behind the receptionist's desk.

“How early?”

She moved the stack of papers from one side of the desk to the other before meeting his gaze. “Around five thirty.”

“In the morning?” he choked out. “Why were you awake at that time?”

“I don't sleep much,” she said with a shrug. “I've gone through the filing system Donna set up and think I understand how it works. We need to talk about how you record billable hours.”

He stepped close enough to the desk that his thighs brushed the dark wood. “We need to talk about you not sleeping. How often does that happen?”

“A few times a week,” she said quietly. “It's no big deal.”

“How many times is a few?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Why do you care, Jase?”

“How many?”

“Most nights,” she answered through clenched teeth. “My doctor in Boston gave me a prescription for pills to help, but I haven't refilled it since I've been back. Davey had trouble adjusting when we first got here, and I wanted to hear him if he needed me.”

“And now?”

She shrugged. “I watch him sleep. He's so peaceful, and it makes me happy. This morning my mom's schedule allowed her to watch him for me when he woke up, so I came into the office to get a few things done.” She looked up at him, her gaze wary. He noticed something more now, the shadows under her eyes and the tension bracketing her mouth. It didn't lessen her beauty or her effect on him, but he kicked himself that he hadn't seen it before. This woman was exhausted.

“You didn't have to do this,” he said, gesturing to the shiny clean space. “But I'm glad you did.”

She rewarded him with a small smile. “It was a pit in here, Jase. It's like you don't even care.”

“I do care,” he argued. “I care about my clients and this town. So what if the office isn't spotless?”

“You're a business owner and you're running for mayor. People have expectations.”

He choked out a laugh. “Tell me about it.” He didn't mind taking grief from her because the brightness had returned to her gaze. The Emily he remembered from high school had been so sure of herself and her place in this world. She'd held on to that pretense since returning to Crimson, but the more time he spent with her the more he could see the fragile space between the cracks in her armor. A part of him wanted to rip away all of her defenses because they were guarding things that held her heart captive. But he hated seeing her troubled and knew she hated revealing any weakness.

“Thank you for this job. I know you didn't want to hire me.”

No. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and take care of her. The kissing and holding weren't going to be helped by working with her, but he could take care of her and that was a start.

“You were right,” he admitted. “I needed help. There are too many things on my plate right now, so I've been ignoring the office. It's starting to show in my work, and that's not going to help anyone.”

“The town loves you. They'll cut you some slack.”

“They love what I do for them.”

“You do too much.”

He shook his head. “There's no such thing. Not for someone with my history.”

“The Crenshaw family history isn't yours, Jase. The weight of a generations-old reputation shouldn't rest on one man's shoulders.”

If only that were true. “My dad isn't going to help carry the load.” He didn't want to talk about this. Emily was here so he could help her, not the other way around. “I have to be at the courthouse at nine, so we should talk about what else needs to be done. I'm going to get a cup of coffee first, and you're an angel for making it. For all of this. Thank you, Em.”

She tapped one finger on the screen of the desktop computer. “Eight thirty.”

“Already?” He glanced at his watch.

“No, you have to be at the courthouse at eight thirty.” She moved around the desk, her hips swaying under the fitted cropped pants she wore. She'd paired them with a thin cotton sweater in a pale yellow along with black heels. It was more casual than yesterday but still professional. “I'll get your coffee.”

“You don't have to—”

“I want to.” She tipped up her chin, as if daring him to contradict her. “So you can get ready to go.”

Before he could argue, she disappeared around the corner.

This place wasn't good enough for someone like Emily. His office, even though it was clean, was too shabby for her crisp elegance. He imagined that she'd fit perfectly into the upper echelons of Boston society. Emily looked like a lady who lunched, a fancy wife who could chair events and fund-raisers and never have a hair out of place. Yet as he followed her, he watched wisps of blond hair try to escape from the knot at the back of her head.

She poured coffee into a travel mug, and Jase was momentarily distracted by the fact that the clean dishes and coffee mugs were put away on the shelf above the utility sink.

Emily turned, thrusting the stainless steel mug toward him. Her fingers were pink from the water and had several paper cuts on the tips. Not as delicate as she looked, his Emily.

No. Not his. Not even for a minute.

But she was here. Although he'd done her a favor, he needed her. He wanted her. Any way he could have her.

“You're welcome in my office while I'm gone.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and felt a small amount of satisfaction when she sucked a breath. “I should be back by noon.”

“You have a meeting with Toby Jenkins here at one thirty.”

He nodded, thankful he'd set up the calendars on his cell phone and office computers to sync automatically. He was in the habit of entering meetings in his calendar, but that didn't mean he remembered to check it every day.

“I told my mom I'd be home by two today. Davey still naps in the afternoons, and I like to be there when he wakes up.”

“I can pick up lunch on my way back. Any requests?”

“You don't need to—”

“It's the least I can do, Emily. The way you transformed the office went beyond anything Donna could have done. It feels good not to be surrounded by my usual mess.”

One side of her mouth curved. “I'm glad to be useful.”

What had her ex-husband done to beat down the spirited girl he'd known into this brittle, unsure woman? Jase wasn't a fighter, but he would have liked to punch Henry Whitaker.

Instead, he gave Emily a reassuring smile. “You're the best.”

Her smile dimmed, but before he could figure out why, she tapped her watch. “You need to go or you're going to be late.”

“They're used to me being late.”

“Not with me running the show.” She pointed to the door. “Now go. I've got your inner sanctum to tackle.”

He laughed, then wished her luck and headed back out into the bright sunshine. It was the best start to a morning he'd had in ages.

* * *

By the time he parked in front of his father's trailer a few minutes before noon, Jase's mood had disintegrated into a black hole of frustration. Even though he expected it from Emily's text, seeing the Crawfords' 4Runner at the side of the mobile home only made it worse.

He didn't want Emily here. This part of his life was private, protected. Most people in town knew his father, or knew of him if they'd lived in Crimson long enough. But even as a kid, Jase had never let anyone visit the run-down home where he'd lived. Not even Noah.

He stood on the crumbling front step for a moment trying to rein in his clamoring emotions. Then he heard Emily's laughter spill out from the open window and pushed through the door.

Her back was to him as she faced the tiny counter in the kitchen. “Canned spaghetti is not real food,” she said with another laugh.

“It's real food if I eat it and like it,” his dad growled in response, but there was humor in his tone. His father sat in one of the rickety wooden chairs at the table. He watched Emily like she was some sort of mystical being come to life inside his tumbledown home.

“I'm not a great cook,” she shot back, “but even I can make homemade meatballs. I'll teach you.” He could see she was dumping the can of bright red sauce and pasta into a ceramic bowl.

“If we're having Italian night,” his dad said, pronouncing Italian with a long
I
, “you'd best bring a bottle of wine with you.”

Jase let the door slam shut at that moment. Emily whirled to face him, her smile fading as she took in his expression. Declan shifted in the chair, his own smile growing wider.

“Just in time for lunch,” his dad said, even though he knew how much Jase hated any food that came from a can.

“How was the courthouse?” Emily covered the bowl with a paper towel and put it in the microwave shoved in the corner of the counter.

Taking a breath, he caught Emily's scent overlaid with the stale smell of the trailer. The combination was an assault on his senses. The hold he had on his emotions unleashed as he stalked forward, shouldering Emily out of the way to punch in a minute on the microwave timer. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, crowding her against the kitchen sink.

“My fault,” his father said from behind him. “I forgot I had a doctor's appointment this morning. When you didn't answer your cell phone, I called the office. Emily explained you were unavailable but was nice enough to drive me.”

Jase looked over his shoulder. “You should have rescheduled the appointment.”

“It wasn't a problem,” Emily said. “Your office was organized and I—”

“I offered you a job as a legal secretary,” he bit out. “That's work with professional boundaries. Inserting yourself into my personal life isn't part of the job description.”

Those blue eyes that had been so warm and full of life iced over in a second. He expected her to argue but instead her lips pressed together and a moment later she whispered, “My bad. Won't happen again.”

“Jase, what's crawled up your butt?” his dad asked, his voice booming in the tense silence that had descended between him and Emily.

She lifted one eyebrow. “I'm not going to stick around to find out.” Skirting around him, she gave Declan a quick hug. “Enjoy your spaghetti. I'm going to hold you to that cooking lesson. But grape juice, no wine.”

“Thank you, darlin'.” His dad's voice softened. “You're a good girl. I'm sorry about this.”

“It's not on you,” she whispered.

Jase didn't turn around, his hands pressed hard to the scarred Formica. He heard the creak of the door as it opened and shut, not the angry bang he expected but a soft click that tore a hole in his gut. Still he didn't move.

The chair scraped as his father stood. He moved behind Jase to take the bowl out of the microwave. For several minutes the only sound was the spoon clinking and the rustle of a newspaper.

“She doesn't belong here,” Jase said finally, rubbing his hand over his face as he turned. “Emily works for me now. That's all, Dad. She isn't part of this.”

“That girl has been a part of you for years,” Declan answered, setting down the spoon in the empty bowl.

Jase felt his eyes widen before he could stop the reaction. He'd never talked to anyone, especially his father, about his feelings for Emily. He understood Noah knew but had never spoken it aloud.

“I'm a bad drunk,” Declan said with a shrug. “But I was never blind, and you're my son. I know you better than you think.”