Always the Best Man (4 page)

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Authors: Michelle Major

BOOK: Always the Best Man
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Before he could answer, she walked away. He waited, watching until she'd gotten in the SUV and pulled down his street. Until her taillights were swallowed in the darkness. Then the silence enveloped him once more, and he wondered if he'd dreamed the past few minutes.

An increasingly insistent bark snapped him back to the land of the wide-awake. He jogged to the front door and unlocked it, moving quickly to the crate in his family room. Her fluffy tail wagged and she greeted him with happy nips and yelps. He led her to the back door and she darted out, tumbling down the patio steps to find her perfect spot in-yard.

He sank down to the worn wood and waited for her to finish, lavishing praise when she wiggled her way back to him.

“I've got a story for you,” he told the puppy as she covered him in dog slobber. “It's been quite a night, Ruby-girl.”

* * *

Early Tuesday morning, Emily pasted a bright smile on her face before opening the door to Life Is Sweet, the bakery Katie owned in downtown Crimson. The soothing scent of sugar and warm dough washed over her as she automatically moved toward the large display case at the front of the shop.

The ambiance of the cozy bakery cheered her, even with the hellish morning of job interviews and application submissions she'd had. No surprise that businesses weren't lining up to hire an overqualified, single-mom college dropout who could only work part-time hours and needed to be able to take off when her son had a bad day. Yet it felt personal, as if the town she'd so easily left behind wasn't exactly opening its arms to welcome her back.

Life Is Sweet was different. With the warm yellow walls and wood beams stretching the length of the ceiling, the shop immediately welcomed customers both new and familiar. A grouping of café tables sat in one corner of the small space and the two women working the counter and coffee bar waved to her.

Katie pushed through the door to the back kitchen a moment later, carrying a large metal tray of croissants that she set on the counter.

“Should you be carrying pastries in your condition?” Emily asked with a laugh. Last weekend during dinner, Noah hadn't let Katie bring any of the serving bowls out to the table on the patio or clear the dishes. In fact, he'd all but insisted she sit the whole time they were at their mother's house. No matter what any of the women had told him about Katie and the baby remaining healthy despite normal activities, he couldn't seem to stop fawning over his wife-to-be.

Katie rolled her eyes. “I would have never guessed your brother had such an overprotective streak. He wants me to cut back even more on my hours at the bakery.” She waved to one of the customers sitting at a café table, then looked at Emily. “I've hired a manager to run the front, but I'm still in charge of most of the baking. As long as my doctor says it's okay, I want to keep working.”

“He'll get over it. I'll talk to him. Dad's death made him funny about keeping everyone he loves healthy.” Her whole family had felt helpless when the pancreatic cancer claimed her father, and it had taken years for Noah to get over the guilt of not being around to help those last months.

When their mom had her health scare, Noah had returned to Crimson right away and remained at Meg's side for the duration of her recovery. But losing one parent and being scared for the other had taken a toll on him, and Emily understood his reasons for wanting Katie to be so careful.

“I know, and I love him for it.” Katie sighed. “The morning sickness is done, so I feel great.” She put all but two of the croissants in the case. “I'm just hungry all the time. Can I interest you in a coffee-and-croissant break? They're chocolate.”

“How did you know I need chocolate?”

“Everyone needs chocolate.” Katie set the remaining pastries on a plate, then poured Emily a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “You look like you've been through the job search gauntlet today.” She got the attention of one of the women working the counter and mouthed “Five minutes.” There was a line forming at the cash register so the worker gave her a harried nod. “Let's go to the kitchen. More privacy.”

“You're swamped right now. I'm fine.”

“Never too swamped for a snack,” Katie answered and picked up the plate. She led Emily through a heavy swinging door into the commercial kitchen. “I'm going to sit on a stool while you take my picture and text it to Noah. You're the witness that I'm not working too hard.”

Emily snapped the photo, sent it to her brother and then pulled off a piece of the flaky dough. “Fresh from the oven?” she asked as she popped the bite into her mouth. She climbed onto a stool next to Katie, trailing her fingers across the cool stainless steel counter.

“The best kind.”

“If my brother becomes too much of a pain, I'll marry you,” Emily said when she finished chewing. The croissant melted in her mouth, buttery and soft with the perfect amount of chocolate in the middle.

“Don't distract me with flattery,” Katie answered but moaned as she took a bite. “What happened today?”

“No one feels a burning desire to hire the woman who publicly ridiculed the town on her way out.”

Katie made a face. “It was a well-known fact that you had no plans to stay in Crimson any longer than necessary.”

“Or maybe I got drunk one night and announced to a bar full of locals that I was too good to waste away in this...”


Hellhole mountain slum
, I think you called it.”

“Right. Classy.”

“And endearing,” Katie agreed, clearly having trouble keeping a straight face.

“I'm stupid.” Emily pressed her forehead to the smooth stainless steel, let it soothe the massive headache she could feel starting behind her eyes.

“You can make this better,” Katie said, placing a hand on Emily's back. “Crimson has a long history of forgiving mistakes.”

“And an even longer one of punishing people for them.” She tipped her head to the side. “Look at how hard Jase has worked to make amends for trouble he didn't even cause.”

“But people love him.”

“Because he's perfect.”

“Why are you so hard on him, Em?”

Emily shook her head, unable to put into words her odd and tumbling emotions around Jase.

“You could work for him,” Katie said with a laugh.

“For Jase?” Emily asked, lifting her head. “What do you mean?”

“I'm joking,” Katie said quickly. “From what I can tell it bothers you to be in the same room with him.”

“That's not exactly true.” Emily had really liked Jase kissing her. It had been easy to lose herself in the gentle pressure of his mouth. His hands cradling her face made her feel cherished. She'd wanted to plaster herself against him and forget she was alone, at least for a few minutes. She was definitely bothered by Jase, but not in the way Katie believed. “Is he hiring for his campaign?”

“No,” Katie answered slowly, as if reluctant to share what she knew. “His secretary retired a few months ago.”

“The one with the litter of puppies?”

“How did you know about that?”

Emily ignored the question. “Why hasn't he hired someone?”

“He won't say, but as far as I know he hasn't even interviewed anyone for the position.” Katie took another bite of pastry. “There are plenty of people who would love to work with him.”

“Plenty of single women,” Emily clarified.

“He's pretty hot,” Katie said, her smile returning. “Not as handsome as Noah, of course. He makes me—”

“I'm working on being a good friend.” Emily held up a hand. “But I draw the line on listening to you ruminate on the hotness of my brother.” She hopped off her stool and took a final drink of coffee. “Break's over, friend. I just got a tip on a job opening.” She picked up the plate and walked it over to the sink.

“Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“Clearing my plate?”

“Asking Jase for a job.”

Emily straightened her suit jacket and smiled, pretending the nervous butterflies zipping through her belly didn't exist. “I'm not sure, but when has that ever stopped me?”

She gave Katie a short hug. “Thanks for listening. You're a pro at this whole supportive girlfriend thing.”

Katie returned her smile. “Good luck, Em.”

“I've got this,” Emily answered with more confidence than she felt. But bluffing was second nature to her, so she squared her shoulders and marched out of the bakery to get herself a job.

Chapter Four

J
ase reached for the file folder on the far side of his desk just as he heard Emily call his name. His hand jerked, knocking over the cup of leftover coffee that sat on another stack of papers, dark liquid spilling across the messy top of his desk.

“Damn,” he muttered, grabbing the old towel he'd stuffed under the credenza behind him. This wasn't the first time most of his work papers had been dyed coffee brown. The mug had been half-empty so this cleanup wasn't the worst he'd seen. He quickly wiped up the spill, then moved the wet files to the row of cabinets shoved along the far wall.

By the time he turned around, Emily stood inside the door to his office. Her blue gaze surveyed the disorder of his office before flicking back to him. “Is it always this bad?”

He kicked the dirty towel out of sight behind his desk. “I've got things under control. It only looks like chaos.”

She arched a brow. “Right.”

Jase hadn't seen Emily since she'd walked away from him Saturday night. Letting her go had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but Emily wasn't the same proud, confident girl she'd been in high school. Whatever had happened when her marriage fell apart had left her bruised and tender. Jase had always been a patient man, and if she needed him to go slow he could force himself to honor that.

She didn't appear fragile now. This morning Emily wore a tailored skirt suit that looked like it cost more than the monthly rent on his office space. It was dark blue and the hem stopped just at her knee. Combined with low heels, a tight bun and a strand of pearls around her neck, Jase could imagine her on the stage next to her ex-husband, the perfect accessory for a successful politician.

He wanted to pull her hair loose, rip off the necklace that was more like a collar and kiss her until her skin glowed and her mouth turned pliant under his. Until he could make her believe she was more than the mask she wore like a coat of armor.

“Why haven't you hired a new secretary?”

He blinked, the question as much of a surprise as her appearance in his office. “I don't need one.”

“Even you can't believe that.” She nudged a precariously balanced pile of manila folders with one toe, then bent forward to right it when the stack threatened to topple.

“I haven't had time,” he said, running a hand through his hair and finding it longer than he remembered. A haircut was also on his to-do list. “I did some interviewing when Donna first retired. She took a medical leave when her husband had a heart attack, and then they decided to simplify their lives and working here got cut. But she'd been with the practice when I took it over and ran this place and my life with no trouble at all. If I hire someone new, I'll have to train them and figure out if we can work together and...” He paused, not sure how to explain the rest.

“Let me guess.” She arched a brow. “The women applying for the job think they're also interviewing for the role of your wife?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, grabbing the empty coffee cup from his desk and walking toward her. There were plenty of single men in Crimson, so it was an irritating mystery how he'd ended up on the top of the eligible bachelor list. He didn't have time for dating, and even if he did...

“It would have been easier if Donna had helped screen the applicants.”

One side of her mouth curved even as she rolled her crystal-blue eyes. “Because you have trouble hurting their feelings.”

“You think you've got me all figured out.”

She shrugged. “You're nice, Jase. Not complicated.”

He touched the tip of one finger to her strand of pearls. “Unlike you?”

She sucked in a breath and stepped back so he could pass. There was a small utility sink in the kitchenette off the hallway, and he added the cup to the growing pile of dirty dishes. When he turned around, Emily was standing behind him, holding four more mugs by their handles.

“You forgot these.”

He sighed and reached for them. Add washing dishes to the list.

“I appreciate the social call, but was there a reason you stopped by?” He turned and moved closer, into her space. “Unless you want to continue what we started Saturday night. That kind of work break I can use.”

“No break and Saturday night was a mistake.” She frowned. “You and I both know it.”

He wanted to kiss the tension right off her face. “Then why can't I stop thinking about how you felt pressed against me?” He dropped his voice. “The way you taste...”

Color rose to her cheeks.

“I'm not the only one, am I? You walked away but you came back.” His fingers itched to touch her. “You're here now.”

“This isn't a social call.” Emily straightened the hem of her jacket, looking almost nervous. “I think you should hire me.”

Jase almost laughed, then realized she was serious. “No.” He shook his head. “No way.”

“Don't I at least get an interview?” Now her gaze turned mutinous. “That's not fair. I can do it.” She spun on her heel and marched toward the front of his office. The space had a tiny lobby, two interior offices and a conference room. Jase loved the location just off Main Street in downtown Crimson.

The receptionist desk had become another place to stack papers since Donna'd left, and as he followed Emily toward the front door he realized how cluttered the area had become. Damn.

She picked up a thin messenger bag from one of the lobby chairs and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “My résumé,” she said, handing it to him. He stared at it, but didn't take it from her. Her mouth thinned. “During college I was an academic assistant for two law school faculty members. I managed calendars, helped with grant proposals and assisted in the preparation of teaching materials. I'm organized and will work hard. I can come in two days this week, and then make my hours closer to full-time once Davey starts school. I'd like to be able to pick him up, but my mom can help out if you need me later in the afternoons.”

She kept pushing the résumé toward him, the corners of the paper crumpling against his stomach, so he finally plucked it out of her fingers.

“Emily,” he said softly. “I need a legal secretary.”

“Right now,” she shot back, “you need a warm body that can do dishes.”

She had a point, but he wasn't about to admit it.

“I can do this. I can help you.” She kept her hands fisted at her sides, her chin notched up. It must have cost her to come to him like this, but Emily still made it seem like she was doing him a favor by demanding he hire her.

“This isn't a job you want.” He folded the resume and placed it on the desk. “You're smart and talented—”

“Talented at what?” she asked, breathing out a sad laugh. “Shopping? Planning parties? Not exactly useful skills in Crimson. Or maybe I'm good enough to kiss but not to work for you.”

He pointed at the sheet of paper. “You just told me why you're qualified. If you can work for me, you can find another job.”

“Don't you think I've tried? I spent this entire morning knocking on doors. I'm a single mom with a son who has special needs, which is a hard sell even if someone did want to hire me.” She bit down on her lip. “By the way, they don't. Because I wasn't nice when I was younger and that's what people remember. That's what they see when they look at me.”

“I don't.”

“You're too nice for your own good,” she said, jabbing a finger at him. “That's why I'm here begging.” A strangled sound escaped her when she said the word begging. He studied her for crying, but her eyes remained dry.
Thank God.
He couldn't take it if she started crying. “I'm begging, Jase, because I need to know I can support my son. When I left Henry, I wanted out fast so I took nothing. Hell, I'm borrowing my mom's car like I'm a teenager again. I have to start somewhere, but I'm scared I won't be able to take care of Davey on my own. He's about to start kindergarten, but what if something happens? What if he—”

“He's going to be fine, Em.” He could see her knuckles turning white even as color rose to her cheeks.

“This was a horrible idea,” she muttered, turning her head to stare out onto Main Street as if she couldn't stand to meet his gaze another second. “I'm sorry. I'm a mess.”

Jase took a step toward her. It was stupid and self-destructive and a bad idea for both of them, but the truth was he didn't care if Emily was a mess. He wanted her to be his mess.

* * *

Emily felt the tips of Jase's fingers on the back of her hand. She couldn't look at him after everything she'd said. All of the shattered pieces of herself she'd just revealed.

But her fingers loosened at his touch, and she wanted to sway into him. Somehow he grounded her and just maybe...

The front door to the office opened, a rush of fresh mountain air breezing over her heated skin. “Jase, you're late.”

Emily whirled around to see a short, curvy woman in an ill-fitting silk blouse and shapeless skirt staring at her.

“Sorry,” the woman said quickly, glancing between Emily and Jase as she adjusted the bulky purse on her arm. “I didn't realize you had a meeting or...”

“It's fine,” Jase told her, stepping away from Emily. “I'll grab my keys, and I'm ready. The Crimson Valley Hiker's Club today, right?”

The woman nodded. “If you're busy—”

He shook his head. “Mari, this is Emily Whitaker. She's Noah's sister and just got back to town. Em, Mari Simpson. Mari works at the library in town but has been kind enough to help keep me on track with my campaign.” He gave Mari a warm smile, and Emily's throat tightened. Jase could smile at whomever he wanted. It didn't matter only...

“He'll be a great mayor,” Mari chirped with a bright smile of her own. While the woman wasn't classically pretty, the smile softened her features in a way that made her beautiful. “I'm happy to do whatever I can.” Her face was sweet and hopeful. The face of a woman who would make a perfect wife. Emily forced herself not to growl in response.

“Keys,” Jase said again and disappeared into his office.

Mari continued to smile but it looked forced. “So you're Noah's sister?”

“I am.”

“You moved back from Boston, right?”

A simple question but Emily knew it meant that although Mari Simpson wasn't a Crimson native, she'd been downloaded on Emily's past and reputation in town. “Yes,” she answered, forcing herself to stay cordial. This was new Emily.

Emily 2.0. Nice Emily.

“It's good to be close to my family and friends again.”

Mari tapped a finger to her cheek. “I think I saw your name on the application list for our reference desk opening.”

Emily nodded. “I applied at the library.”

“Too bad we filled the position already,” Mari said a little too sweetly. “Lots of talented people want a chance to live in such a great little town. We only hire people with at least an undergraduate degree. I'm sure you'll find something.”

Emily 2.0.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said through clenched teeth. “I think—”

“Emily's going to work for me,” Jase said, pocketing his phone and keys as he came back into the room. He kept his gaze trained on Mari.

Her jaw dropped and Emily was pretty sure her own reaction was the same.

“Here? But I've heard... I thought...she's—”

“Organized and hardworking,” Jase said, repeating Emily's words from earlier. “Just what I need to get the office back on track.” He patted the tiny woman on the shoulder. “It'll be easier for you, too, Mari. You won't have to keep tabs on me all the time.”

She gave a small nod but muttered, “I don't mind.”

Finally Jase turned to Emily. “Does tomorrow work for an official start date? I can be here by eight. We'll keep your hours flexible until Davey starts school.” For once his eyes didn't reveal any of his feelings. It was as if he hadn't said no and she hadn't broken down in an emotional rant. As if he wasn't offering her this job out of pity.

He held out his hand, palm up. On it sat a shiny gold key. “Just in case you're here before me.” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “Punctuality isn't one of my best qualities.”

No, Emily thought, he didn't need to be on time. Jase had more important traits—like the ability to rescue distressed women with a single key.

She should walk away. He knew too much about her now. If there was one thing Emily hated, it was appearing weak. She'd learned to be strong watching her father lose his battle with cancer. She'd married a man who valued power over everything else in his life.

During her divorce she hadn't revealed how scared she'd felt. She'd been strong for Davey. Even when she'd been nothing more than a puddle of uncertainty balled up on the cool tile of the bathroom floor. Every time she got dressed, Emily put her mask into place the same way she pulled on a T-shirt.

But she'd kissed Jase like she wanted to crawl inside his body, then pleaded for a job as if he was her only hope in the world.

When she'd left behind her life in Boston, she'd promised herself she would never depend on a man again. She'd create a life standing on her own two feet, strong and sure.

But maybe strong and sure came after the first wobbly baby step. Maybe...

Forget the self-reflection. Right now she needed a job.

Her pause had been too long, and Jase pulled back his hand, his brown eyes shuttering. She snatched the key at the last moment and squeezed her fingers around it. The metal was warm from his skin and she clutched it to her stomach. “I'll be here in the morning,” she told him and with a quick nod to Mari, ducked out of the office before he could change his mind.

A job. She had a job.

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