Always the Best Man (7 page)

Their support bolstered his confidence but his courage took a nosedive at Thompson's next words. “Come on up here, boy,” Charles said, his gaze boring in Jase's taught nerves. “I want to talk to you about the future of this town and family values.”

* * *

Jase banged through the front door of his office an hour after he'd left, holding on to his temper by the thinnest thread. Emily jumped in her chair, glancing up from the computer screen.

“How did it go?”

“Fine,” he bit out, not stopping. He could feel the mask he wore beginning to crumble and needed the safety of being behind a closed door when it did. “I have a meeting with Morris Anderson at eleven. Let me know when he gets here.”

He dropped his briefcase on the floor, slammed his office door shut behind him and stalked to the window behind his desk, trying to get his breathing under control as he stared out to the parking lot in back of the building.

“All those slamming doors don't sound like
fine
to me.”

He didn't bother turning at Emily's cool voice behind him. “Do you understand what a closed door means?” he asked.

“Better than you'd imagine,” she answered with a small laugh. “But in this case, I don't care. Either you tell me what happened at the meeting, or I can call Katie. Which do you prefer?”

Jase closed his eyes and concentrated on making his lungs move air in and out. He knew there were no secrets in Crimson, at least not for long. His phone had started ringing and beeping with incoming calls and texts as soon as he walked out of the community center.

“Charles Thompson is running against me for mayor. He announced his candidacy to the downtown coalition this morning.”

She didn't say anything, and Jase finally turned. Emily stood just inside the doorway to his office. After his secretary retired, Jase convinced himself that he preferred running the entire office on his own. So much of his life was filled with people and responsibility. This space had become a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he was in total control. He answered to no one.

In only a few days, Emily's presence had become the answer to a secret need he didn't know how to voice. Not only was she organized and efficient, but she breathed new life into an existence that had become so predictable Jase couldn't seem to force its path out of the familiar ruts.

This morning she wore a simple cotton dress with a light sweater thrown over her shoulders and strappy sandals. Her hair was held back with a clip but the length of it tumbled over her shoulders. The scent of her shampoo mixed with perfume tangled in the air, and Jase had noticed on Wednesday the hint of it lingered even after she left for the day.

“So what?” she asked when he finally met her gaze. “You've done more for this town than Charles Thompson. People love you.”

He shook his head. “He was sheriff,” he told her, as if that explained everything. The word
sheriff
captured the past Jase had worked so hard to bury under the duty and responsibility he shouldered in town.

“You've been the de facto leader on town council for several years. Noah told me you were instrumental in convincing Liam Donovan to move his company's headquarters to Crimson.”

She stepped farther into the room and, like he was magnetized, Jase moved around the desk toward her. Toward the certainty of her unmistakable beauty and the sound of her voice. Maybe if he listened to her long enough, he could believe in himself the way she seemed to.

“From what I remember, Thompson was a decent sheriff, but this town has never had a big problem with crime. Business and keeping things moving forward have been a struggle for some of the older generation. Things are different now than when I left, and people say you're the reason.”

If only it were that simple. “He knows everything about me.”

Her delicate brows came down, as if she couldn't understand the significance of what he was saying.

“Charles ran the department when we were kids,” he explained. “During the time when my grandpa died and Mom left with Sierra. My dad was still working at the mine, and he was at his lowest. It was worse than anyone knows.” He paused, cleared his throat to expel the emotions threatening his airways. “Except Charles. He knows every sordid detail.”

“That past has nothing to do with you.”

“That past
is
me,” he argued.

She shook her head. “Charles can't use anything he knows because of his position as sheriff in this election.”

“He already has. Most of what he talked about at today's meeting was family values. He had his wife of thirty-four years and his two sons sitting in the front row. Hell, Miriam brought muffins to hand out.”

“You want muffins? Katie will make you dozens of them. We can hand out baked goods to every voter in this town.”

“That's not the point. You know how perception plays into politics. He's sowed the seeds of doubt about me. Now people will start talking...about me and my family and our history in Crimson.”

“They'll understand he's running a smear campaign.”

“No, they won't.” He ran his hands through his hair, squeezed shut his eyes. “He was so smooth. Charles actually talked about how much he admired me, how much I'd overcome. He claimed he'd always felt protective of me because my mother abandoned me and my dad was so messed up. Would you believe he even compared me to his own sons?”

“Aaron and Todd?” Emily snorted. “Those two caused more trouble as teens than anyone else in the school. I haven't seen Todd, but from what I can tell, Aaron hasn't changed a bit. He's still a big bully. I don't know how many times I have to say no to a date before he quits calling me.”

“He's calling you?” As angry as Jase was about Charles, temper of a different sort flared to the surface of his skin, hot and prickly. It was almost a relief to channel his frustration toward something outside himself. Something he could control. Above all else, Jase understood the value of control. “I'll take care of it.”

“Hold on there, Hero-man. I don't need you to handle Aaron for me. I can take care of annoying jerks all on my own.”

“You can handle everything, right?”

He regretted the rude question as soon as it was out of his mouth. Emily should snap back at him because he was lashing out at her with no cause. Instead, she flashed him a saucy grin. “Takes one to know one.”

The smile, so unexpected and undeserved, diffused most of his anger, leaving him with a heaping pile of steaming self-doubt. He sat on the edge of his desk and leaned forward, hands on his knees.

“I'm sorry. I know you can take care of yourself.” His chin dropped to his chest and he stared at the small stain peeking out from under one of the chairs in front of the desk. “But it's a lot easier to worry about other people than think of how quickly my own life is derailing.”

A moment later he felt cool fingers brush away the hair from his forehead. He wanted to lean into her touch but forced himself to remain still. “Did you ever meet Andrew Meyer who used to run this office? I took over his practice four years ago, and I haven't changed a thing.” He pushed the toe of his leather loafer against the chair leg until the stain was covered. “Not one piece of furniture or painting on the wall. You can still see the frame marks from where he took down his law school diploma and I never bothered to replace it with mine. I inherited his secretary and his clients, and I haven't lifted a finger to make this place my own. Hell, I think the magazines in the lobby are probably four years old. Maybe even older.”

“I switched them for current issues,” she said softly.

Her fingers continued to caress him and it felt so damn good to take a small amount of comfort from her. Too good. He lifted his head, and she dropped her hand.

“Why haven't you changed anything?” She didn't move away, and it was the hardest thing Jase had ever done not to pull her closer.

“Because this place isn't mine.”

“It is,” she said, her tone confused. “It's your office. Your clients. Your reputation.” She laughed. “Your mortgage.”

“This is the oldest law practice in the town. It was founded in the early 1900s and passed down through the Meyer family for generations. Andrew didn't have kids, so he offered a partnership position to me when I was still in law school. He wanted a Crimson native to take over the firm. This is his legacy. Not mine.”

“Jase, you are the poster child for the town's favorite son. Charles Thompson can't hold a candle to the man you've become. Whether it was despite where you came from or because of it, the truth doesn't change.”

“What if who people see isn't the truth? What if I've become too good at playing the part people expect of me?”

“You don't have to reflect the town's image of you back at them. You're more than a two-dimensional projection of yourself. Show everyone who you really are.”

Staring into Emily's crystal-blue eyes, it was tempting. The urge to throw it all away, create the life he wanted, curled around his senses until the freedom of it was all he could see, hear and taste. Right behind the whisper of release came a pounding, driving fear that cut him off at the knees.

Who he was, who he'd been before he'd started down the path to redeeming his family name was a lost, lonely, scared boy. The memories he'd secreted away in the parts of his soul where he didn't dare look threatened to overtake him.

He stood abruptly, sending Emily stumbling back a few steps. “I'm going to win this election. I need people to see the best version of me, not the grubby kid Charles remembers.”

Her eyes were soft. “Jase.”

“I've worked toward this for years. It's what people expect...” He paused, took a breath. “It's what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Charles isn't right for this. I'm going to be mayor.”

She placed a light hand on his arm. “I'm going to help you.”

He looked at her elegant fingers wrapped around his shirtsleeve. “Because you work for me.”

“Because we're friends.”

His eyes drifted shut for a moment. “Right. I forgot.”

He felt a poke at his ribs. “Liar.”

She had no idea. “I saw Katie at the meeting,” he told her, needing to lighten the mood. He was too raw to go down that road with Emily. As much as he craved her kiss, he couldn't touch her again and not reveal the depth of his feelings. He thought he could control how much he needed her, but not when he was carrying his heart in his hands, ready to offer it to her if she asked. “She asked about plans for the bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

Emily pulled a face. “No strippers.”

He laughed in earnest. “I wasn't even thinking that.”

“All men think that.”

“You've got the whole male population figured out?”

“Like I said before, you're not complicated.”

When it came to Emily, he wished it were true. His feelings for the woman standing in front of him had been simple for years. He wanted her. An unattainable crush. Unrequited love. End of story.

But a new chapter had started since she'd returned to town, and it was tangled in ways Jase couldn't take the time to unravel. Not if he was going to stay the course to his duty to Crimson.

“Then we're talking beer and poker night?”

Emily opened her mouth, then glanced over her shoulder as the door to the outer office opened. “Your appointment's here.”

“Admit it, you like beer and poker.”

She shook her head. “Come over for dinner tonight and we'll brainstorm better options.” Her hand flew to cover her mouth as if she was shocked she'd extended the invitation.

“Yes,” he said before she could retract the offer. “What time?”

Emily blinked. “Six.”

“I'll be there.”

“Jason, are you here?” a frail voice yelled from the front office.

“In my office, Mr. Anderson,” Jase called. “Come on back.”

“I should go...um...”

“Finish editing the brief I gave you?” Jase suggested, keeping his expression solemn.

“Exactly,” she agreed.

As Morris Anderson tottered into the room, Emily said hello to the older man and disappeared.

“That Meg Crawford's girl?” Morris asked after she'd gone. Morris was here to revise the terms of his will, which he did on a monthly basis just to keep his four children on their toes.

Jase nodded, taking a seat behind his desk.

“I went to school with her grandmother back in the day. Spunky little thing.”

“Good to know where Emily gets it.” Jase pulled out Morris's bulging file. “Who made you angry this month?”

“Who didn't make me angry?” Morris asked through a coughing fit. “My kids are ungrateful wretches, but I love them.” He pointed to the door, then to Jase. “The spunky ones are trouble,” he said after a moment.

“Do you think so?” Jase felt his hackles rise. His protective inclination toward Emily was a palpable force surrounding him.

“I know so,” Morris answered with a nod. “Trouble of the best kind. A man needs a little spunk to keep things interesting.”

“I'd have to agree, Mr. Anderson,” he said with a smile. “I'd definitely have to agree.”

Chapter Seven

E
mily wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting on the hallway floor when a pair of jeans and cowboy boots filled her line of sight.

“Emily?” Jase crouched down in front of her, placed a gentle hand on her knee. “What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “Except dinner might be a little delayed. Sorry. I didn't realize you were here.”

“I could see you through the screen door. I knocked but...”

“Hi, Jase.” Davey's voice was sweet. Her boy didn't seem the least concerned to see his mother having a meltdown on the hardwood floor. “I built the space station hospital. Want to see it?”

“In a minute, buddy,” Jase told him. “I'm going to hang out here with your mom first.”

She tried to offer her son a smile but her face felt brittle. “Are you getting hungry, Davey?”

“Not yet.” Small arms wrapped around her shoulders. “It's alright, Mama.” The hug lasted only a few seconds but it was enough to send her already tattered emotions into overdrive. If her son was voluntarily giving her a hug, she must be in really bad shape.

She expelled a breath as Davey went back into the office. The tremors started along her spine but quickly spread until it felt like her whole body shook.

“Let's get you off the floor.” Jase didn't wait for an answer. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the family room. Jase was strong and steady, the ends of his hair damp like he'd showered before coming over. She breathed in the scent of his shampoo mixed with the clean, woodsy smell she now associated with him alone. How appropriate that the man who was the poster child for Crimson would smell like the forest. As much as she wanted to sink into his embrace, Emily remained stiff against him. If she let go now, she might really lose it. “Where's your mom?”

“Book club,” she managed between clenched teeth. “We should probably reschedule dinner for another night.”

“I'm not leaving you like this.” He deposited her onto the couch. “Not until you tell me what's going on.”

Emily fought to pull herself together. She was so close to the edge it was as if she could feel the tiny spikes of hysteria pricking at the backs of her eyes. The cushions of the couch were soft and worn from years of movie nights and Sundays watching football. She wanted to curl up in a ball and ignore the constant pounding life seemed determined to serve up to her.

She couldn't look at Jase and risk him seeing the humiliation she knew was reflected in her eyes. She stood, moving around the couch in the opposite direction. The kitchen opened to the family room, separated by a half wall and the dining room table. “I'd planned to make steaks,” she said quickly, ignoring the trembling in her fingers. “But I didn't get them out of the freezer, so we may be stuck with hot dogs. Do you mind turning on the grill?”

He let himself out onto the flagstone patio as she opened the pantry door and scanned the contents of the cupboard. She heard him return a few minutes later but kept her attention on the cupboard. “How do you feel about boxed mac and cheese? I don't know how Mom managed to make a home-cooked meal every night when we were younger. She worked part-time, drove us around to after-school activities, and still we had family dinners most evenings. You remember, right? She loved cooking for you and Noah.”

He was standing directly behind her when she turned, close enough she was afraid he might reach for her. And if he did, she might shatter into a million tiny fragments of disappointment and regret. “I know I'm babbling. It's a coping mechanism. Give me a pass on this one, Jase.”

His dark eyes never wavered. “What happened?”

Her fingers tightened on the small cardboard box so hard the corners bent. “An overreaction to some news. My meltdown is over. I'm fine.”

“What news?”

“Does it matter?” She shook her head. “I lost the privilege of a major freak-out when I became a mother. Moms don't have a lot of time for wallowing when dinner is late.”

“Tell me anyway.”

She slammed the box of mac and cheese on the counter, then bent to grab a pot out of a lower cabinet. “I liked you better when you were nice and easygoing and not all up in my business.”

Elbowing him out of the way she turned on the faucet and filled the pot with water. “Apparently, my ex-husband got remarried last weekend. One of my former friends in Boston was nice enough to text me a photo from the wedding.”

She set the pot of water on the stove and turned on the burner. The poof of sound as it ignited felt like the dreams she'd had for her life. There one minute and then up in flames. “It was small—nothing like the extravaganza I planned—only family and close friends.”

She laughed. “My friends are now her friends. She was a campaign worker. What a cliché.” She glanced over her shoulder, unable to stop speaking once she'd started. “You know the best part? She's pregnant. A shotgun wedding for Henry Whitaker III. It's like Davey and I never existed. We're gone and he's remaking our life with someone else. Our exact damn life.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry.” She ripped off the top of the box with so much force that an explosion of dried macaroni noodles spilled across the counter. “I'm not.”

“You don't have to pretend with me.”

“I'm not sorry, Jase. I'm mad. It's mostly self-directed. I let myself be sucked into that life. I was so busy pretending I couldn't even see Henry for who he was.” She scooped up the stray noodles, dropped them in the water and then dumped the rest of the box's contents in with them. “My son has to pay the price.”

“Your ex-husband is an idiot.”

“To put it mildly.”

“There are other words going through my mind,” Jase said, his tone steely. “But I'm not going to waste my energy on a man so stupid he would let you go and give up his son because of a political image.”

Emily took a deep breath and released it along with much of her tension. “I don't miss him.” It had been a shock to get the text about Henry but she hadn't been lying to Jase when she told him she was most angry at herself. “How did I marry a man who I can feel nothing but revulsion for five months after leaving him?”

“He hurt you,” Jase answered simply.

“I should have seen him for who he was. My parents had a good marriage. There was so much love in this house.”

He reached out, traced a fingertip along her jaw. “There was also a lot of pain when your dad died.”

“Yes, and it left scars on all of us. But Noah managed to fall in love with an amazing woman. Mom is now dating someone who makes her happy. I seem to be the one with horrible taste.”

Jase smiled. “Did you meet any of the women your brother dated before Katie?”

“From what I've heard,
date
is a fairly formal term for Noah's pre-Katie relationships.”

“Exactly.”

“He's one of the lucky ones.” She sighed and stepped away from Jase. Staring into his dark eyes made her forget he wasn't for her. Jase Crenshaw was all about duty and responsibility. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, his image was a big part of his identity. He wasn't motivated by the hunger for power and prestige that had influenced her ex-husband. But it didn't change the fact he would eventually want more than Emily was willing to give.

She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a pack of hot dogs from the shelf. “Man the grill, Mr. Perfect. We're eating like kids tonight.”

Jase watched her for a long, heavy moment before his lips curved into a grin. “The only thing perfect about me is my grilling skills.”

She smiled in return, knowing he'd given her a pass. Maybe he'd sensed her frazzled emotions couldn't take any more deep conversation. “Let's see if your hot dogs can beat my mac and cheese.”

“I'm up for the challenge,” he said and let himself out onto the patio.

Alone in the kitchen, Emily went to check on her son. He was still busy with his Lego structures and she watched him for a few minutes before giving him a fifteen-minute warning for dinner. Davey's difficulty with rapid transitions had driven Henry crazy. Her ex-husband had loved spontaneity when he wasn't working or campaigning. A game of pick up football with the neighbors, a bike ride into town for dinner or an impromptu weekend at the shore. Henry had to be moving at all times, his energy overpowering and bordering on manic.

She'd kept up with him when Davey was a baby but as the boy grew into a toddler, he liked notice if things were going to change. Henry had never been willing to accept the difficulty of swooping in and changing Davey's schedule without warning. Davey's difficulty with change only got worse over time, and it had become a huge source of tension with Henry.

Since returning to Crimson, Emily had done her best to keep her son on a regular schedule. Her mother and Noah had quickly adapted, making her understand the issues her ex-husband had were his own and not her or Davey's fault.

She filled a plastic cup with milk for Davey, then pulled out two beers for her and Jase. As she was setting the table, Jase let himself back into the house. “Perfect dogs,” he said, holding up a plate.

“Do you know Tater?”

Emily turned to find Davey standing behind her, looking at Jase.

“She's my uncle Noah's dog,” the boy explained. “Her fur is really soft, but she has stinky breath and she likes to lick me.”

“Tater is a great dog,” Jase answered, setting the hot dogs on the kitchen table.

“Let's wash hands,” she said to her son. “Mac and cheese and hot dogs for dinner.”

He climbed on the stool in front of the sink, washed his hands, then went to sit next to Jase at the table. “Tater used to live here with Uncle Noah. Now they both live with Aunt Katie. Do you have a dog?”

Jase nodded. “I have a puppy. Her name is Ruby.”

“Does she have soft fur?”

“She sure does and I bet she'd like you. She's six months old and has lots of energy. She loves to play.”

“I could play with her,” Davey offered, taking a big bite of mac and cheese.

“Would you like to meet her sometime?”

Davey nodded. “We can drive to where you live after dinner.”

“If that's okay with your mom,” Jase told him.

“A short visit,” Emily said, trying not to make Davey's suggestion into something bigger than it was. Which was difficult, because her son never volunteered to go anywhere. She planned outings to local parks and different shops downtown, and Davey tolerated the excursions. But there was no place he'd ever asked to go. Until now. She wondered if Jase understood the significance of the request.

He tipped back his beer bottle for a drink and then smiled at her. “I love mac and cheese.”

She rolled her eyes but Davey nodded. “Me, too. And hot dogs. Mommy makes good cheese quesadillas.”

“I'll have to try for an invitation to quesadilla night.”

“You can come to dinner again.” Davey kept his gaze on his plate, the words tumbling out of his mouth with little inflection. “Right, Mommy?”

“Of course,” she whispered.

Jase asked Davey a question about his latest Lego creation. Once again, her son was talking more with Jase than he normally would to his family. Henry had a habit of demanding Davey make eye contact and enunciate when he spoke, both of which were difficult for her quiet boy. The last six months of her marriage had been fraught with tension as she and her ex-husband had waged a devastating battle over how to raise their son. The arguments and tirades had made Davey shrink into himself even more, and she'd worried the damage Henry was unwittingly doing might leave permanent scars on Davey's sensitive personality.

The way he acted toward Jase was a revelation. When Jase smiled at her again, his eyes warm and tender, Emily's heart began to race. How could she resist this man who saw her at her worst—angry or in the middle of an emotional meltdown—and still remained at her side, constant and true?

The answer was she didn't want to fight the spark between them. For the first time since returning to Crimson, Emily wondered if she hadn't squandered her chance at happiness after all.

* * *

“She needs to go out and do her business, and then you can play with her.” Jase unlocked the front door of his house as he spoke to Davey.

The young boy stayed behind Emily's legs but nodded.

Emily gave him an apologetic smile. “He always takes a few minutes to acclimate to new places.”

“Take all the time you need, buddy.” As soon as the door began to open, Ruby started yelping. “She's usually pretty excited when I first get home.”

“Davey, let's go,” Emily said, her voice tense.

Jase looked over his shoulder to see the boy still standing in front of the door, eyes on the floor of the porch.

She crouched down next to her son. “It's okay, sweetie. You wanted to meet the puppy. Remember?”

“Take your time,” Jase called. “I'm going to bring her to the backyard because it's fenced. Come on out whenever you're ready.” The yelping got more insistent, a sure sign Ruby needed to get to the grass quickly. He lifted the blanket off the crate in the corner and flipped open the door, grabbing the puppy in his arms as she tried to dart out. She wriggled in his arms and licked his chin, but as soon as he opened the back door she darted for her favorite potty spot near a tree in the corner. He followed her into the grass with a glance back to the house. Emily and Davey hadn't emerged yet.

Ruby ran back to him and head-butted his shin before circling his legs. He didn't bother to hide his smile. Even after the worst day, it was hard not to feel better as the recipient of so much unconditional love. It didn't matter how long he'd been gone. She greeted him with off-the-charts enthusiasm every time.