The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)

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. “Hello, 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?”