“Wait a minute. She wants you to patch things up with Darion?” Which wasn’t the same as Darion wanting to patch things up.
Em leaned closer and he was suddenly aware of the crisp floral scent that was so her. He remembered how she smelled because she spent so much time hanging around him and Len, driving them crazy when they were younger, wanting to be part of whatever they did because Len was her “real” brother. Her full brother. And now he was gone.
“She wants me to wear the freaking dress that she paid too much for.” She lowered her voice for another stage whisper. “As if I asked for it. For the record, I did not. I wanted the five-hundred-dollar dress, but she liked the other one.” Emma leaned closer still and her long reddish-brown hair brushed over his arm like a whisper of silk. “She wants to impress the neighbors. Outdo Marilee’s wedding. Since I’m the only girl in the family, I’m the only shot she has.”
“Come on, Em. She isn’t going to encourage you to get married just so she can pour money down a wedding rathole.”
“Oh, yeah?” She sank into her chair. “Well, she can’t get her deposits back. The money is already poured.”
Jess gave his head a shake. “Not much anyone can do about that.”
Emma’s expression brightened. “Maybe you can take Darion’s place? Just for a while? Fake wedding? Keep Selma happy?”
“I’d rather take a bullet in the leg.”
Emma’s mouth drooped again. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that.”
“Nothing personal, Em.”
“Yeah.” She leaned back in her chair and started surveying the room, as if trying to pick out another husband prospect.
“Do you want a ride home?”
A look of horror crossed her face. “No.” She cleared her throat, trying to sound nonchalant as she said, “I’m no longer staying at home.”
“Then where?”
“Starlight.”
“The motel?”
“Howard lets me park my truck in his garage.”
Howard had been one of Em’s friends in high school, but probably wasn’t on her mother’s radar because he was kind of shy and retiring. “Mom knows I’m okay because she stops to see me at work, but I won’t tell her where I’m staying. I’m one step away from blocking her number, too.” She gave a small snort as she stared down at the table. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tailed me.”
Jess knew from growing up with Len just how intense Selma could get when she was on a mission.
“How do you know she hasn’t?”
“I watch my rearview mirror.”
“Things were that bad with Darion?” Bad enough to call off a wedding? Although he had to give her credit for calling it off six months before the big day instead of waiting for the last moment.
She let out a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, I refuse to marry him just to get Selma to leave me alone.”
“But you’d fake marry me.”
Emma smiled. “Because it’s you. There’d be no complications.”
“Ain’t going to happen.” Besides, he wasn’t certain if anything went down with Emma without complications. Even getting engaged to one of the nicest guys he’d ever met hadn’t kept things from getting complicated. No one knew exactly what happened with Em and Darion, and it didn’t appear that Jess would be the exception to the rule. One minute they were on, the next the wedding was off. Darion was now working up north in Kalispell, having left right after the engagement was broken, and it didn’t appear that he was coming back anytime soon.
“How are you getting home tonight? To the Starlight, I mean.”
Her shoulders sank a little. “Good question. It looks like Willa did leave with someone.” Just as Jess had hoped to do. Well, that wouldn’t be happening. Talia had her arm linked with a tall cowboy who seemed satisfied with the way his night was playing out.
“I’m going that way.”
“You barely got here.”
“I think it’s time to leave. I’m taking off tomorrow, so maybe a decent night’s sleep is in order.”
“Yes,” Emma said in a mock stern voice as she got to her feet. “One must get their eight hours a night. And eat three square meals a day. And brush their teeth two—”
Jess took hold of her arm and gently propelled her forward. “What do I owe you?” he asked Gus, who waved his hand.
“See you tomorrow morning. Bring back some big purses.”
“That’s the plan,” Jess said. He glanced down at Emma, who looked as if the booze was hitting her harder now that she was standing. “Do you have everything?”
“Everything except for a husband.”
“You’re not getting one of those here.” He put an arm around her, drawing her close to his side to keep her on her feet as they negotiated the crowd. Again, her light floral scent drifted to his nostrils, and Jess was surprised at how well he remembered it. Well, it was said that traumatic memories are often triggered by scents, and while his experiences with Emma didn’t qualify as traumatic, they did qualify as annoying.
When they stepped out into the damp evening air, Emma gave a small shiver. Jess’s instinct was to pull her even closer, but instead he eased back, putting a hand on each shoulder and steering her toward his truck. She was keeping her feet well, but he wasn’t taking chances.
“So you’re into purses?” she asked as she negotiated around a puddle.
“Rodeo purses.”
“I have one of those. Lots of silver and fringe—”
“Prize money, Emma.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, then dropped it and said, “I wasn’t thinking rodeo because, well, you haven’t been competing much. That’s embarrassing.”
“For a girl who used to chase cans, I imagine it is.”
Emma had been one hell of a barrel racer, because the word caution never appeared in her vocabulary. She’d stopped after Len had been killed in the rollover accident on the road leading to their ranch.
He felt her stiffen and figured her thoughts were following the same line as his. He opened the door and handed her up into the truck, thinking that he’d probably never touched Emma this much, ever.
She let out a breath and let her head fall sideways against the window when Jess got into the driver’s seat. He headed for the Starlight—an older, yet immaculately kept motel on the edge of town—and slowed to pull into the lot when Emma jerked suddenly. An instant later she was practically on the floor.
“Drive on.”
“What?”
“Don’t. Pull. In.” When he looked over at her, she was scrunched down so far that she was invisible from the outside. He scanned the parking lot, then saw what had Emma curling up into a ball. Her younger brother Wylie was parked at the far end of the lot. And if he wasn’t mistaken, there was another Sullivan ranch truck parked next to him. Selma, no doubt.
“Take me to your place,” Emma murmured.
Jess opened his mouth to say “No,” but the utter desperation in her voice made him shut it again. He abruptly put the truck into gear.
“Thank you.” She spoke so low he barely heard her.
“I think you can sit up now.”
She