A Town Called Valentine

chapter Nineteen



After a lunch shift at the flower shop, Emily worked on the damaged finish to the restaurant bar, glancing at her cell phone too much. Nate was working all day, she knew. He certainly didn’t need to call her right away. But she was surprised how much she longed to hear his voice, how much she wanted to feel his arms around her and bask in the admiration he so openly showed her. She hadn’t felt so excited in years, and it was wonderful and scary all at the same time. She found herself hoping the hockey game would end early, so she could meet up with Nate.

She got a text from Brooke at six sharp, and met her and Monica in the alley. All of them wore jeans and long-sleeve shirts and carried fleece or denim jackets.

“I thought your sister was going?” Emily said to Monica.

Monica rolled her eyes. “She’s coming. She didn’t bring the right clothes for a rink, so she’s going through mine.”

They sat in the Jeep and chatted for another ten minutes until Melissa came outside, looking cool and unhurried, still elegant in jeans and a silk blouse. Monica grumbled something under her breath, and Emily bit her lip to keep from smiling.

When they reached the rink in Aspen, Emily bought a hot dog and Diet Coke before donning her fleece jacket to leave the warm lobby.

“So is this a local college team?” Emily asked Monica. “Do you know the players?”

“Sure I know the players. The Valentine Massacre is an adult rec league team. You’re dating one of the stars.”

Emily’s mouth dropped open, and she hurried ahead of the women toward the boards surrounding the rink, where Plexiglas windows protected them from the puck. She saw several dozen men skating around, warming up, shooting at the goal, bumping into each other.

Then someone slammed into the boards right next to her, and she flinched back. The man pulled off his helmet, and she saw Nate, his hair already damp with sweat.

She spoke loudly near the crack between the Plexiglas. “Your sister didn’t tell me you were on the team.”

He leaned against the boards and slowly smiled at her, green eyes glittering, making it very clear he was remembering what they’d been doing last night. She felt a wave of heat sweep over her and wondered if she was giving off steam in the cold rink.

“I’ll talk to you after the game,” he said, then winked at her.

She melted into a smile that made her feel positively glowing, then followed the other women up into the bleachers, filing past a few handfuls of people who’d come to cheer on friends.

“Woo-hoo, did you see that smirk on Nate’s face?” Monica called to Brooke.

Emily blinked and tried to appear innocent as she took a seat next to Melissa, who eyed her with interest, popping a cheese-coated french fry into her mouth.

Brooke sat down on the end, jostling Emily. “I saw it, and believe me, I know damn well what it meant. Someone’s been holding out on us.”

Emily munched her hot dog and just looked back and forth at them. They waited impatiently while she chewed and swallowed. “I’m not sure what you expect me to say.”

“Dish it out, girlfriend,” Monica said. “The truth.”

Emily opened her mouth, then embarrassment made her hesitate. She wasn’t used to talking about something so private. Nate probably wouldn’t appreciate it if she—

“Look at her,” Brooke said with a snort, “she can barely get the words out, and her face is as red as a tomato.”

“Leave the girl alone,” Melissa said mildly. “She doesn’t have to tell you busybodies everything.”

“Busybodies?” Monica echoed, rearing back as if affronted. “Are you my grandma? And you’re the one who heard Nate’s truck in the alley late last night.”

“I didn’t bring it up to her, did I?” Melissa said with exasperation.

They sounded like sisters, not distant acquaintances, Emily thought, feeling relieved for them. Maybe things were starting to get better.

“You brought it up to me, leaving me all wondering,” Monica grumbled.

“You didn’t tell me!” Brooke shot back.

“Okay, okay, you need to give this a rest.” Emily felt like another black-and-white-striped referee. All she needed to do was lace up a pair of skates and hold them all back from fighting.

They looked at her expectantly.

And again, she felt her face go all hot. “I can’t just . . . talk about it!”

And then they laughed, even Melissa.

When a whistle blew, Emily was vastly relieved. She watched the game, glad there was no outright fighting, the one thing she usually hated about hockey. And Nate was pretty good—fast on his skates, deadly with his aim, absorbing the occasional blow to his body when a defender got ambitious. She didn’t understand the rules, but it didn’t really matter. She found herself cheering when the score got too close, then giving a final whoop when Nate’s team won.

They waited in the lobby for the men, along with several other women Emily was introduced to. The players appeared, their hair slicked back from showers, carrying huge duffel bags stuffed with equipment.

“Hold your breath if one of those bags is open,” Brooke whispered. “The smell will kill you!”

Emily expected Nate to treat her as casually as always, but, instead, he gave her a smacking kiss and kept his arm around her. Monica and Brooke rolled their eyes knowingly, and all Emily could do was grin and shrug.

More food was ordered, and everyone sat down at tables to eat. Emily found herself next to Tony of Tony’s Tavern fame, and he grinned and held out his hand.

“Maybe we should meet properly—I’m Tony De Luca.”

She laughed. “Emily Murphy.”

“See you two are still kissing.”

Would she ever stop blushing? “Guess we are.”

“Hey, Dad!”

To Emily’s surprise, a boy of maybe ten or eleven came running up to them. He was overheated, his brown bangs damp, chocolate smeared on his cheek as he held out his hand.

“Dad, can I have some quarters?”

Tony groaned. “I gave you everything I had when I got here, Ethan. Didn’t your mom have any for you?”

“You know she doesn’t like me playing the games here.”

Emily said, “I have a couple quarters, if it’s okay with you, Tony.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, but didn’t seem upset at her interference.

She reached into her wallet and held out some coins. With a quick “Thanks!” Ethan grabbed the coins and took off with the other boys.

Emily eyed Tony, who shook his head. “So you’re a dad.”

“A single dad,” he said with a sigh. “His mom and I split a couple years ago.”

That perked her interest. “Do you find it hard being a single parent?”

“Sure, sometimes.”

“I’m thinking of adopting. I’d love to talk to you sometime about what it’s like raising a child by yourself.”

But was he truly alone, when he had everyone in Valentine? He must have all the support—and nosiness—he could ever need.

“I share custody with my ex, so it’s not quite like doing it by myself, but I’ll answer any questions I can.”

“My ex wanted kids, too,” she said ruefully. “But I found out that was all he wanted from me.”

Nate walked over just in time to hear this, and he stared at Emily, surprised she’d reveal something painful so easily. He told himself it was good that she could talk about the past instead of keeping it inside; but to his discomfort, he realized he wanted her to talk to him about those things, not Tony.

Why was she so determined to adopt if both she and her ex had wanted kids? It wasn’t like she was ancient. Or did she just not want to marry again? That should make him feel relieved, but it didn’t. It was as if every wall he’d built up around himself these last few years was starting to crumble. Emily was getting to him in ways he thought he’d long been on guard against.

He couldn’t let this happen again, couldn’t risk hurting Emily. And deep inside, part of him began to turn to ice.

“Hey, Nate,” Tony said, looking curiously between Emily and him.

Nate wondered what his face had revealed. He forced a smile. “Nice goal in the third period. You saved us.”

“Thanks.”

Another teammate called out, “Hey Nate, how’s the rodeo prep going? You doing like I said, and taking bets on the bronc riding?”

“Why should I, when you know I’m going to win?”

There was booing and cheering all mixed up together, and he saw Emily watching him with curiosity. He almost slid an arm around her waist, knowing he’d be aroused by the flare of her hip and the warmth of her all pressed to his side. But he stopped himself, and was relieved when she said she was going home with the girls.

“I came with them, Nate.” Her tone was apologetic.

“She’s our date,” Brooke said, spreading her hands wide. “Girls’ night out.”

He nodded, forced a smile. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

Wearing a saucy smile, she said, “I’ll look forward to it.”

And he watched her go through the double doors out into the night, not realizing Tony had come to stand beside him.

“So it’s like that,” Tony said mildly.

Nate shrugged. “Guess you could sort of tell the first night that we were interested in each other.”

“Guess I could. Don’t enjoy yourself too much. I’ll try to pretend I remember what it’s like have a free social schedule and time to pursue a woman.”

“Kids’ll do that to you.”

“Seems like Emily wants ’em, but without a husband.”

Nate eyed his friend. “She’s mentioned it.”

“Guess you should feel relieved.”

Nate smiled but didn’t say anything. He should feel relieved. But he didn’t.

“Tony’s a nice guy,” Monica said, as they drove back to Valentine.

Emily looked out the window at the solid darkness of the mountains blotting out the stars. She thought about young Ethan, running toward his father, his face alive with excitement and mischievousness. The slumbering ache inside her awakened as she remembered her brief motherhood.

And the way she controlled her grief was reminding herself that she’d taken control, that she was going to make a happy family life happen. She was already making good friends who could be like sisters to her.

Then Brooke launched into the story about spying on Steve Keppel and believing that Joe Sweet might be Emily’s dad, all for Melissa’s benefit.

“If you’re hesitant to talk to him outright,” Melissa said, “maybe there are hospital records you don’t know about. Were you born here?”

“San Francisco.”

“Oh.”

“Guess we’ll have to handle this with our own small-town ways,” Monica said dryly.

Emily saw Melissa press her lips together and look out the dark window.

“You know, Em,” Monica continued, “you could think about this from another angle, from people’s motivations. Maybe Joe would be thrilled to know he has another child, and you’re worried about approaching him for nothing.”

“Listen to Monica,” Melissa chimed in. “She’s always been good at reading people.”

Monica stared at her over the seat. “Is that a compliment?”

“Of course it is. You should go back for your master’s in psychology. Those were always your best classes.”

Emily couldn’t miss the hurt that flashed briefly in Monica’s eyes.

“I use my skills with people every day,” Monica said between gritted teeth. “What about you?”

“What do you mean? We’re twins; I certainly have people skills as well, and I use them.”

“From everything I hear, you’re only with people at work. Sounds to me like you lead a lonely life.”

Melissa stiffened. “That’s not true.”

“Okay, no squabbling, kids, or I’ll have to stop the car,” Brooke said mildly, looking into the rearview mirror to meet Emily’s eyes.

“I heard the guys mention a rodeo,” Emily said, changing the subject.

“The Silver Creek Rodeo,” Brooke said. “My family’s been running it for decades. You mean you haven’t heard about it?”

“I’ve seen the posters—who could miss them?” But Nate had never told her, and now that he’d confided in her, she understood why. But after all their intimacy, it was hard for her to still feel casual about him, which should be a blinking Caution sign for her to pay attention to.

“It’s only a few weeks away,” Monica said. “You can’t leave before then. It’s the highlight of early summer around here.”

“I’m a champion barrel racer,” Brooke said, holding up her arm to flex a muscle.

Monica laughed. “And so modest, too.”

Brooke continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Josh and I do a little team roping, although Nate and Dad often beat us. Emily, there’s even a baking contest. I’ll forward you the info.”

Emily nodded but figured she’d talk to Nate first.

As she was getting ready for bed, Emily heard her doorbell, and when she looked out the window, she saw Nate’s pickup in the alley. With excited anticipation, she wrapped a robe around herself to hurry down the stairs. After she opened the door, he stood looking at her, his expression so intense that it took her breath away. Then he swept her into his arms.

“Damn, but you looked so good tonight,” he said into her hair.

Between kisses, she laughed. “In my jeans and fleece?”

“In your robe, I don’t care. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t wait—”

He slammed the door behind him and carried her upstairs. And then they were undressing each other, her tugging loose his shirt, him pulling free the belt of her robe.

“Emily.”

He said her name between a whisper and a groan, and her blood hummed with pleasure and need. They fell naked on her bed, and it was like a scene from a movie as they kissed and caressed and rolled about with abandon.

“I can’t get enough of the taste of you,” Nate murmured, exploring her body with his lips and tongue.

She lay there, quivering and feeling worshipped, gasping as he spread her thighs and with the torture of his tongue made her beg for him. When her orgasm practically shook her off the bed, he came up on his hands and stared down at her, dazed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said hoarsely. “In my pants—”

“Hurry,” she panted back.

He grinned down at her like a pirate anticipating plunder, all dark-haired and wicked-eyed. With a giggle, she pushed him away, and when he returned with the condom, helped him put it on. She took over, mounting him, controlling both of their pleasure. His grin faded and they stared into each other’s eyes as their bodies, their very wills, took hold, sweeping away lighthearted play, leaving them desperate and yearning and overcome.

Only when she was collapsed at his side, staring stupidly up at the ceiling, was she able to think rationally. “I have ice cream.”

He gave a hoarse chuckle. “You should have said that before. It might have made things interesting.”

“Instead of boring?” she asked sweetly.

He slapped both hands to his chest as if she’d shot him. When she sat up, he said, “No clothes allowed.”

“But I think my front curtains are open!”

“No clothes.”

Giggling foolishly, she crept down the hall, ducked into her galley kitchen for chocolate ice cream and two spoons, then dashed back to her bedroom. Nate was waiting for her, propped up on pillows against the headboard, still naked. She skidded to a halt, her mouth open, and almost tossed aside the ice cream. Damn, he looked good, all lean, long muscle.

He was watching her just as intently, and she was as unembarrassed as if he’d been looking at her nude forever. It was daunting—it was exhilarating—it was confusing. So she opened the ice cream and took a spoonful, her gaze never leaving him.

“You can be my second dessert,” she said.

He laughed and patted the bed, then scooped her against his side. They shared the ice cream, feeding each other or themselves, and when a dollop landed on her breast, he licked it off.

“Wait, wait,” she said, laughing, putting her fingers over his mouth. “I have something to ask you. I heard you and your friends talking about the rodeo. Brooke explained that it’s your family tradition.”

“Yep.” He slowly licked his spoon, and he wasn’t watching her face, as if he anticipated licking other things.

It would have been so easy to melt into a chocolate puddle beneath him.

“I’m surprised you never mentioned it,” she said curiously.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” he said, “and I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”

“The girls will probably pressure me to enter the baking competition. Are you okay with that?”

He smiled, but for some reason, she wasn’t certain it reached his eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We’re . . . just dating. This is your family event or tradition or whatever, and if you felt I’d be intruding . . .” She felt like an idiot, worried about his reaction when it was a public event anyone could attend. Much as she wanted to keep things casual, it was starting not to feel that way for her, but she couldn’t let him know that. Maybe the sex had changed things since she’d always considered herself an old-fashioned girl. But she had to grow beyond that girl.

“I was simply waiting to see if you’d still be here for the rodeo before I asked,” Nate said. “I’d like you to come.”

“Then it’s a date.” But she still felt awkward, and he must have sensed that, because he cupped her cheek and leaned forward to softly kiss her.

“Sorry,” he murmured against her lips.

“It’s really okay,” she murmured back, then forgot about the ice cream.