a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.
Wasn’t that what she’d always wanted, the high life with famous people? Some of their old friends accused her of being superficial and shallow, but he knew better. She’d been trying to fill some empty place in her soul with all the things she thought her simple life in North Carolina had been missing.
He wondered if she still saw that world as fascinating, if she’d gotten to know even one of those celebrities as a friend, rather than as a client. He’d learned a long time ago how much better it was to have a few people he could count on than a thousand acquaintances. The folks who’d been by his side when Jenny was sick and then stuck by him after her death had taught him the real meaning of friendship.
“I’d better go in and check on Grandmother,” Gabi said. She started toward the kitchen, then came back. “I’m sorry, Boone.”
He frowned at her serious tone. “Sorry for what?”
“The way Emily hurt you. She never meant to. There were just things she felt she needed to do. I think she always meant to come back, but then you married Jenny, and, well, you know how things went after that.”
Boone nodded, appreciating the sentiment but determined to make sure she knew it was unnecessary. “I accepted her decision a long time ago, Gabi. And just so you know, I don’t think she ever intended to come back. That’s why I moved on.”
Gabi glanced toward the kitchen and nodded. “Nobody blames you for that. And B.J.’s a great boy.”
“The best,” he agreed readily. “Probably no thanks to me. Jenny was an amazing mother. I think your grandmother’s influence accounts for a lot of that, too, same as it did with me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
Boone watched her go, then sighed. Why was it that all the women in this family thought he was worth something...except the one who’d stolen his heart all those years ago?
* * *
Emily had prepared herself for seeing Boone again. At least she thought she had.
And yet the sight of him atop a ladder, his excellent butt hugged by a pair of worn jeans, his faded T-shirt stretched taut over a broad chest and outstanding biceps, was good enough to give her palpitations. A baseball cap had been pulled low, which made it hard to see his face, but she imagined his granite jaw, dark-as-onyx eyes and dimples were the same.
It had always been amazing to her that a man could be flashing fire hot as a furnace one second, flip a switch to a look as cold as the North Pole the next, and then turn right around and grin with the impish expression of a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Boone Dorsett had always been something of a contradiction, in her opinion.
“Hey, Boone!” Samantha called out, when Emily just stood there, probably slack-jawed, taking in the view.
His head snapped around so fast he might have lost his balance if Emily hadn’t instinctively grabbed the ladder to steady it.
“Samantha,” he acknowledged solemnly before allowing his gaze to settle on Emily. “Emily.”
To her annoyance there was not one tiny shred of a difference in the way he spoke her name, no hint that she was any more special than her sister, that he used to have his hands and that sweetly seductive mouth of his all over her whenever they could sneak away to be together. Seriously, shouldn’t that have called for at least a hint of intimacy in the way he spoke her name?
That was then, she reminded herself sharply. The man is married now. He belongs to someone else.
“What are you doing here, Boone?” she asked irritably.
He held up a lightbulb. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“I mean here, helping my grandmother, instead of taking care of your own business.” She knew she sounded churlish and ungrateful, but she couldn’t help herself. The rules had all gone and changed on her, and yet her feelings for this man apparently hadn’t. That was a shocker, all right. Boone Dorsett could still stir her blood in a way that not one single man she’d met since ever had. And he’d done it from atop a ladder, without even touching her. The discovery was unsettling. She’d been so sure that the bitterness she’d felt at his betrayal would trump all those old feelings forever.
“Darlin’, I know you’ve been away a long time, but down here, folks help each other out in a crisis. I’d say this latest hurricane qualifies. Your grandmother’s in the kitchen, by the way. I’m sure she’s real anxious to see you.”
He turned back to his chore, essentially dismissing her. Emily just stared at him, then turned to see Samantha grinning as if she’d just witnessed a scene in some ridiculous romantic comedy.
“Oh, hush your mouth,” she muttered to her sister as she headed for the kitchen at a fast clip.
“Never said a word,” Samantha retorted, following along behind, still grinning. “But in case you’re interested in my opinion, that was hot.”
Emily blinked and stared. “Are you delusional? The man just shooed me away as if I were an annoying mosquito or something.”
“Hot,” Samantha repeated. “Again, in case you’re interested in my opinion, I’d have to say things between you two are far from over.”
“The man is married,” Emily reminded her.
Her sister’s grin merely spread. “Oh, didn’t anyone tell you that he lost his wife?”
“Did he happen to leave her behind in the Great Dismal Swamp?” Emily asked sarcastically.
Samantha’s expression instantly sobered, all hints of teasing gone. “No, sweetie. Jenny died. Just over a year ago, in fact.”
Emily stopped just inside the kitchen door and stared after her sister. Oh, God, that was awful. She was suddenly assailed by more emotions than she could even begin to untangle. Sorrow for Jenny, who’d been a genuinely nice girl. Heartache for Boone and for his child, who must have been devastated.
And a completely inappropriate and unexpected flash of relief, followed all too quickly by panic. It was one thing to discover she wasn’t immune to the man when he was safely off-limits, but it was something else entirely to realize he was available, after all. She had not needed to know that. She really hadn’t.
Because the very last thing she needed in her very busy and tightly scheduled life was to have feelings for Boone Dorsett, the man she’d very deliberately left behind.
* * *
Cora Jane’s gaze went straight to Emily when she and Samantha walked into the kitchen. In that first quick glance she saw that her granddaughter was too thin, her face bordering on gaunt. She’d been working too hard, not taking nearly enough time for herself, Cora Jane assessed.
There was also no mistaking the bright patches of color in her cheeks and the sparks in her eyes, put there by Boone, no doubt. Cora Jane turned away, hoping none of the others would see the satisfied smile she couldn’t seem to stop. She wished she’d been witness to the first meeting between those two after all this time, but seeing Emily’s face told her it had gone exactly as she’d hoped.
“My
