“How flattering.”
“She might have a point. What are your plans for the weekend? Katie and I are going out to Mom’s place for a barbecue tomorrow night. Want to join us?”
Jase rarely had plans for the weekend. Juggling both his law practice and taking care of his dad left little free time. But Emily would be there and while the rational part of him knew he shouldn’t go out of his way to see her, the rest of him didn’t seem to care. If he could get his father settled early tomorrow...
“Sounds good. What can I bring?”
“Really?” Noah’s brows lifted. “You’re venturing out on a Saturday night? Big time. We’ve got it covered. Come out around six.”
“See you tomorrow,” he said and headed over to his gym bag at the far side of the stands. He stripped off his sweaty T-shirt and pulled a clean one from the bag. As he straightened, Emily walked around the side of the metal bleachers, eyes glued to her cell phone screen as her thumbs tapped away. He didn’t have time to voice a warning before she bumped into him.
As the tip of her nose brushed his bare chest, she yelped and stumbled back. The inadvertent touch lasted seconds but it reverberated through every inch of his body.
His heart lurched as he breathed her in—a mix of expensive perfume and citrus-scented shampoo. Delicate and tangy, the perfect combination for Emily. Noah had accused him of mooning but what he felt was more. He wanted her with an intensity that shook him to his core after all these years.
He’d thought he had his feelings for Emily under control, but this was emotional chaos. He was smart enough to understand it was dangerous as hell to the plans he had for his future. At this moment he’d give up every last thing to pull her close.
Instead he ignored the instinct to reach for her. When she was steady on her feet, he stepped away, clenching his T-shirt in his fists so hard his fingers went numb. “Looks like texting and walking might be as ill-advised as texting and driving.”
“Thanks for the tip,” she snapped, tucking her phone into the purse slung over her shoulder. Was it his imagination or was she flushed? Her breathing seemed as irregular as his felt. Then her pale blue eyes met his, cool and impassive. Of course he’d imagined Emily having any reaction to him beyond distaste. “My mom sent a photo of Davey.”
“Building something?” he guessed.
“How do you know?”
“I was at the hospital the day of your mom’s surgery. I made Lego sets with him while everyone was in the waiting room.”
She gave the barest nod. Emily’s mother, Meg, had been diagnosed with a meningioma, a type of brain tumor, at the beginning of the summer, prompting both Emily and Noah to return to Crimson to care for her. Luckily, the tumor had been benign and Meg was back to her normal, energetic self.
The Crawford family had already endured enough with the death of Emily and Noah’s father over a decade ago. Having been raised by a single dad who was drunk more often than he was sober, Jase had spent many afternoons, weekends and dinners with the Crawfords. Meg was the mother he wished he’d had. Hell, he would have settled for an aunt or family friend who had a quarter of her loving nature.
But she’d been it, and lucky for Jase, Noah had been happy to share his mom and her affection. With neither of her kids living in town until recently and Meg never remarrying, Jase had become the stand-in when she had a leaky faucet that needed fixing or simply wanted company out at the family farm. He’d taken the news of her illness almost as hard as her real son.
“I remember,” she whispered, not meeting his gaze.
“Every time I’ve been out to the farm this summer, Davey was building something. Your boy loves his Lego sets. He’s—”
“Don’t say obsessed,” she interrupted, eyes flashing.
“I was going to say he has a great future as an engineer.”
“Oh, right.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze dropping to the ground.
“I know five is young to commit to a profession,” he added with a smile, “but Davey is pretty amazing.” Something in her posture, a vulnerability he wouldn’t normally associate with Emily made him add, “You’re doing a great job with him.”
Her rosy lips pressed together as a shudder passed through her. He’d meant the compliment and couldn’t understand her reaction to his words. But she’d been different since her return to Crimson—fragile in a way she never was when they were younger.
“Emily.” He touched a finger to the delicate bone of her wrist, the lightest touch but her gaze slammed into his. The emotion swirling through her eyes made him suck in a breath. “I mean it,” he said, shifting so his body blocked her from view of the group of people still standing a few feet away on the sidelines. “You’re a good mom.”
She stared at him a moment longer, as if searching for the truth in his words. “Thanks,” she whispered finally and blinked, breaking the connection between them. He should step away again, give her space to collect herself, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.
She did instead, backing up a few steps and tucking a lock of her thick, pale blond hair behind one ear. Her gaze dropped from his, roamed his body in a way that made him warm all over again. Finally she looked past him to their friends. “Katie told me you’re the best man.”
He nodded.
“I’ve got some ideas for the wedding weekend. I want it to be special for both of them.”
“Let me know what you need from me. Happy to help in any way.”
“I will.” She straightened her shoulders and when she looked at him again, it was pure Emily. A mix of condescension and ice. “A good place to start would be putting on some clothes,” she said, pointing to the shirt still balled in his fist. “No one needs a prolonged view of your bony bod.”
It was meant as an insult and a reminder of their history. She’d nicknamed him Bones when he’d grown almost a foot the year of seventh grade. No matter what he’d eaten, he couldn’t keep up with his height and had been a beanpole, all awkward adolescent arms and legs. From what he remembered, Emily hadn’t experienced one ungainly moment in all of her teenage years. She’d always been perfect.
And out of his league.
He pulled the shirt over his head and grabbed his gym bag. “I’ll remember that,” he told her and walked past her off the field.
Emily lifted the lip gloss to her mouth just as the doorbell to her mother’s house rang Saturday night. She dropped the tube onto the dresser, chiding herself for making an effort with her appearance before a casual family dinner. Particularly silly when the guest was Jase Crenshaw, who meant nothing to her. Who probably didn’t want to be in the same room with her.
Not when she’d been so rude to him after the football game with her reference to his body. He had to know the insult was absurd. He might have been a tall skinny teen but now he’d grown into his body in a way that made her
