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Emma was so nervous she thought she might actually throw up. Today was the Fourth of July. If things went well, then tomorrow citizens of Hart’s Ridge would likely cast their votes for her as their new mayor. If things went wrong, she’d be facing total defeat and humiliation.
Good times.
The first official guests of Holiday House, as she had christened the bed and breakfast, had arrived yesterday and immediately proclaimed everything charming, much to Emma’s relief. They had loved the welcome baskets she had put together for them. She had sent them to Dreamer’s Café for dinner, with a nice discount and a suggestion to try the lamb burgers, and showed them where they could rent bicycles to explore Main Street.
Not only that, but she had managed to get short blurbs in Road Trip Magazine and Southern Magazine about the Fourth of July event, and newspapers all over North Carolina had included it, as well. The budget was tight, but she had managed to get radio and social media ads for a reasonable price. She suspected that their local celebration was going to have a lot of new faces this year—and hopefully those new faces would be bringing their wallets.
She had managed to escape Hart’s Ridge being fined for the lamp posts. Ms. Lipscomb had come out to look everything over. Emma had provided photographs she had found that showed the lamp posts shortly after their construction. She had even managed to get similar flower baskets, which were now overflowing with festive red, white, and blue impatiens. Ms. Lipscomb had smiled at that, and determined that foreclosure had been avoided, whatever that meant.
Now it was seven a.m. and she was at the fairgrounds overseeing the setup for the day’s festivities. Everything was going well. So well, in fact, that she was honestly suspicious that it was a trap and something catastrophic would blow up in her face, like an evening thunderstorm rolling in over the mountains after a bluebird morning.
She cast a steely-eyed look at Hart’s Mountain. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she whispered.
“Who are we fighting now?”
Emma startled at the sound of Kate’s voice. She hadn’t noticed her friend standing there, although she wasn’t surprised she was already there, since Kate had a booth of her own to set up for the day’s festivities. “Weather. Mountains. Fate. The universe. You know, the usual suspects.”
“Oh, is that all. Sign me up. You know I’m always down to throw hands against the universe.”
Emma snorted and bumped Kate with her hip. Her gaze fell on Eli carrying rolls of lights to the barn and her eyes narrowed. He was here already? Interesting, since he hadn’t bothered to say hello. “And maybe Eli Carter, too.”
He hadn’t changed his mind the other day, after he told her about his mom. She had waited up to see if he would, and when it became clear that he wouldn’t, she considered going to him and having it out. But she had stopped herself, because that wouldn’t have helped him. If he needed space, he could have it. It would have been nice if he had told her why, but he didn’t owe her that. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend.
They had seen each other a few times since, quick moments where they talked about how busy they were before spinning off in different directions. Understandable, given that they were actually busy. Still. Something was off, she just didn’t know what. She suspected it had something to do with his mother, but that didn’t make a whole lot of sense, either, because he had started acting strange before her name had even come up.
And now he was avoiding her.
“Eli?” Kate repeated. She followed Emma’s gaze. “Ah. About that. Anything you want to tell me?”
Emma sighed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“How about with that time you made out with him on Main Street before he put you in his squad car? Start with that. Because the whole town is talking about it, but you haven’t said a single word.”
“We did not make out!” Which was true, but not the whole truth. “Not right then, anyway.”
“Ah ha! I knew it!” Kate shouted.
“Shh!” Emma looked around, but Eli was far enough away that he couldn’t overhear. “He’s going to know we’re talking about him.”
“Tell me everything. Especially the sordid parts. Let me live vicariously through you.”
Emma’s cheeks felt hot. Normally she was happy to share details, but somehow it felt different this time. The things that had happened between them were special. Intimate. She wanted to keep it all to herself. It was precious to her.
“It was good,” she said vaguely. “You know. Nice.”
“Nice.” Kate looked from Emma to Eli and back again. “No, I don’t believe that for a second. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him. The heat between you could start a forest fire in a rainstorm. No way was it nice.”
Emma couldn’t deny the truth of her statement. “It’s...intense. But it doesn’t matter. We made a deal. After the election, we’re done.”
“What? My God, Emma, why? Look at that man. I mean, look at him.”
Emma looked. Eli was now on a ladder, stringing a garland of fairly lights above the barn door. No doubt about it, he was a gorgeous man. She wanted to touch him, to wait for him to come down from that ladder and kiss him right there in front of everybody, like it wasn’t a big deal.
She scowled. “You know our history. It just doesn’t work between us.”
“Really? Then explain all this.” Kate spun in a circle, her arms spread wide, to indicate the fairgrounds around them, where everything was coming together perfectly. “Look at what you did together. It looks to me like things work between you just fine. What you mean is you can’t forgive him.”
For a moment, Emma considered agreeing with her. To take this confusing knot of thoughts and feelings twisted up inside of her and boil it down to one simple concept: He had arrested her dad, and she couldn’t forgive him. Simple. Easy.
But it wasn’t true.
“I think maybe I can forgive him,” she said slowly. “Maybe I already have. I just...I don’t know how to live with it.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked.
“I mean...” Emma kicked at a tuft of grass with her sneaker and frowned. “I don’t know what I mean. All I know is that two months ago, I could say with absolute certainty that I hated Eli Carter, and I could name my reasons why. Everything made sense then. Black and white, good versus evil. I wanted him to rue the day he decided to run for mayor. Remember when I said that?” She shook her head, almost in wonder. “I don’t feel like that now.”
“You don’t feel like what, exactly? Oh, my God, you don’t mean you actually want him to win this election, do you? Because I swear to God, Emma—”
“No. Hell no. Eli doesn’t even want to win, anyway. I mean...I don’t know. Things aren’t so black and white. And they’re not even gray, either, because that’s just black and white mixed together. This is more than that. This is... You know how in kindergarten you would mix all the paint colors together until it was an ugly brown? That’s what this is. It’s all the pretty colors mixed into something ugly.”
Kate tilted her head and studied her. “So, you’re saying you don’t want him to rue the day, then.”
Emma allowed herself a tiny smile. “No, I don’t want him to rue the day. I hope he has a very nice day, actually.”
“So you don’t hate him anymore, you have very good sex, and he’s handy with hanging fairy lights. What’s the problem? Because I’m not following.”
“The problem is that the better I feel about Eli, the worse I feel about myself. I feel awful, Kate. Like absolute shit.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Because once I realized that everything wasn’t black and white, that what Eli had done wasn’t evil, then I understood that what I had done wasn’t all that great. Actually, it was probably worse, because I think I used my anger at Eli as a way to hide from my own actions. And I don’t know how to live with that.”
“Oh, honey.” Kate pulled her into a hug. “It was eight years ago. You were barely an adult, and you had just lost your mom. Do you really want to carry this weight with you for the rest of your life? Let it go.”
“How do I do that?”
“The same way you did it for Eli. The same way we do for anyone we love. You have to forgive yourself. You’re not perfect. No one is.”
That’s what Eli had said, too. Why did everyone keep saying that? “I know that.” She frowned. “Of course I know that.”
“Do you?” Kate tilted her head and studied her. “Because you look kind of annoyed about it.”
“I am annoyed, Kate,” Emma said crisply. “I was really hoping you would give me better advice. Because forgiving myself isn’t going to make any of this any better, and if it’s not better, than I can’t feel good about myself, now can I. And I really like to feel good about myself, Kate.”
Kate snorted. “Okay, then here’s my advice. Fix it.”
“Right. Now, how am I supposed to do that, again?”
“Generally I go with the same formula for every screw up. Apologies and acts of service.”
“Oh.” Emma blinked rapidly. “That’s pretty good.”
“It is, isn’t it? So you apologize to Eli for the eight-year freeze out and, I don’t know, give him a blowjob and call it even.” She paused. “And if that doesn’t work—but I think it will—then you try something else. You’ll think of something. You always do.”
Emma took a deep breath. Apologies and acts of service. And if that failed, blowjobs. She could do that.
Just as soon as she located her courage.
***
The event went off without a hitch, and Eli wasn’t the least bit surprised. The Whittakers had been right when they said it practically ran itself. Hart’s Ridge had been celebrating the Fourth of July with fireworks, a Ferris wheel, and a party for seventy-five years now. But this year was different.
For as long as Eli could remember, the celebration had gotten smaller with every year as the town contracted in on itself, with the older generations dying and the younger generations moving out. But this year was different.
Thanks to Emma, people all over North Carolina, and some from South Carolina and Virginia, were discovering that Hart’s Ridge was a place they liked to visit. And maybe, if one visit became another and another and another, the people who lived in Hart’s Ridge could afford to stay.
That was the plan. And while it was too soon to tell whether it would really and truly work, it was a huge step in a better direction. He had faith. He had faith in Hart’s Ridge. In Emma.
Who he had successfully avoided all day, until now, when dusk had just settled over the valley, and people were spreading out blankets and preparing for the fireworks to start.
“Hey.” She shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and bounced on her toes. “Busy day, huh?”
“Yeah. I think this is the first time I’ve stopped moving all day.” He looked down at her, her eyes and hair luminous in the glow of the barn lights. So damn beautiful. His chest ached. “You did good, Ms. Andrews.”
“So did you. I’m aware that I didn’t pull this off entirely on my own, and I have you, the Whittakers, and dozens of Hart’s Ridge businesses to thank for it.” She touched the shiny blue ribbon pinned to his shirt. “And you won the pie contest. Of course you did. Did you save me a slice?” she asked hopefully.
Eli grinned. “I did better than that. I saved you a whole damn pie.” He moved in closer, catching her by the wrists so he could loop her arms around his neck. “But you have to come home with me to get it.”
Her expression turned crestfallen. “I can’t. I have to make sure my guests at the bed and breakfast have everything they need. How about you come home with me, and tomorrow we have pie?”
Tomorrow. The word sat like a lead brick in his stomach. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow.
From inside the barn came a long glide of a bow over strings, signaling that the band was ready to play again. Jane Freeman, the lead singer for the Lady Killers, spoke into the microphone. “It’s almost dark enough for fireworks, but I think we have time for one last dance. What do you think?” The statement was answered with stomps and whistles of agreement. “All right. Let’s make it a slow one.”
Without thinking, Eli grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her through the doorway and onto the sawdust dance floor. She gave a stunned laugh as he used their linked hands to spin her into his arms.
“Damn, Eli. You have moves.” One hand settled on his shoulder, the other stayed clasped in his. “What happened to the awkward shuffle from homecoming? I was counting on a repeat performance.”
He laughed. “I can do that, if you really want.”
“No.” Her grip tightened, and he laughed again.
He had fantasized about this exact moment. Emma in a pair of jeans that showed off her heart-shaped ass, dancing in his arms right there in front of everybody. Now it was actually happening and he didn’t know what to do with that. He liked the way she felt in his arms, relaxed and easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world to dance together. He liked the way she looked at him, like she liked what she saw. Like she wanted to look at him. The moment wasn’t even over yet, and he was already feeling nostalgic for it.
“I’m going to miss this,” he said.
She looked at him in confusion. “You’re going to miss what? Dancing?”
“I don’t know. Working together. Making something big happen. All of it.” Especially her.
“I’ll tell you what. Next year, when I’m mayor, if you want to volunteer to help run this thing, I won’t say no. In fact, what if...what if we just kept doing this? The mayor gets to choose their deputy. Why can’t I choose you? The loophole that lets you be acting mayor when you can’t be mayor—that means you wouldn’t have to quit being an officer. Couldn’t we do that?”
For a moment he let himself imagine it. Working together during the day—with a healthy amount of time apart to keep their sanity intact. Sleeping together at night. It seemed so logical the way Emma said it. But it was a fantasy, that’s all it was. Emma had a way of making fantasies seem doable and then actually doing them, but not this time. Reality would win, and the reality of their particular situation was that it was a fucking mess.
“This only works because we have an expiration date. We could mostly ignore our past so long as we didn’t have to face a future. I don’t want to go into work every day wondering if this is the day you’re going to remember you hate me.”
She stumbled slightly, and he slowed enough to allow her to regain the rhythm. But she stood there like a tree, staring up at him with gray eyes he knew better than his own.
“Eli—”
“Not tonight.”
Tomorrow. The end was coming and he couldn’t do anything about that. But by God, he was going to have his last night with her.
“Let’s go,” he said, heading for the exit, tugging her along with him.
“Before the fireworks?”
“Oh, there will be fireworks, honey. On that, you can trust me.”
She huffed a laugh. “I can’t argue with that.”
“Did you drive here?”
“Yeah. I brought the Airstream with Cesar. We made a killing on burritos today. But he has the key to the Tacoma, and he’s already planning on driving it back tonight. I told him I would be finding my own way home.”
“Presumptuous of you.” But he liked that. They were on the same page. Tonight was for them, no one else.
He helped her into his truck, even though she didn’t need the assistance. He just wanted to keep his hands on her as long as possible. It felt like a thousand heartbeats until he got from her door to his, slid into his seat, and put his hand on her thigh. She smiled at him in the darkness right as the first firework lit up the sky.
There was no question in his mind which one he would rather look at.
And right now he was going to revel in her smile, the one he had somehow earned with a simple touch. He wasn’t going to think about tomorrow, when she would no longer smile at him and he could no longer touch her. Those things were as inevitable as the sun rising over Hart Mountain, but that didn’t mean he had to dwell on them. Tonight was enough. It had to be.
He knew she would need to be at Holiday House, in case her guests needed something during the night and to make breakfast in the morning, so he headed in that direction. He focused on the feel of her warmth under his fingertips and the festive lamp posts on Main Street as they drove by. And this, too, was a moment he felt nostalgic for before it was even over. Sappy, but he didn’t care.
He took her hand again as they walked up the path from the driveway to her door, releasing it only so she could bustle around and make sure everything was in order for her guests. The house was empty, so they were still at the fireworks, he reckoned, which gave them a little more privacy.
He took advantage of that by squatting low to drop a shoulder to her belly, then tossing her up in a fireman’s hold. She gave a shocked shriek-laugh that made his heart nearly burst with pride. It struck him that she hadn’t laughed much during their years of friendship, not once her mom got sick, and now her laugh always sounded a little bit surprised, like she hadn’t expected to be happy. He wanted to spend every day for the rest of his life making her laugh.
He carried her upstairs and deposited her on the bed with a bounce that made her giggle. Emma Andrews! The most non-giggly woman he knew! He toed off his shoes while simultaneously grabbing the hem of his T-shirt in an attempt to get naked as quickly as humanly possible. But she propped herself up on her elbows and watched him with avid interest, and he found himself slowing down to give her a show.
The shirt came off over his head and he made sure to flex his abs as it went. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. He liked that. His hands dropped to his belt buckle, she licked her lips, and he really liked that. He moved a little faster after that, sliding his jeans and underwear down at the same time, in part because he was losing restraint, but also because if there was a sexy way to remove himself from his pants, he hadn’t found it.
She didn’t seem to agree, because the look in her eyes was downright hungry. He took a step toward her, but she stopped him.
“Don’t move. I want to look at you.”
Eli wasn’t a bashful man, but it was a vulnerable thing to stand there bare-ass naked while Emma, fully clothed, perused him at her leisure. Usually he was the one in control. He insisted on it. But this was Emma, and she could have him any way she wanted him. God, he wanted to please her.
Their gazes clashed and held. Without breaking eye contact, she peeled off her tank top, then reached around her back to unclasp her bra. Next went her jeans and panties, her gaze still never leaving his, and apparently she did know the secret to getting out of her pants in a sexy way, because he was nearly salivating when she was done.
He hadn’t moved from the spot where she told him to stay, despite that every cell in his body was aching for her. He waited, his muscles coiled like a lion who had sighted prey. Her hand slid across her belly and then, so damn slowly, farther down until her fingers disappeared in the honey-colored curls at the apex of her thighs, all the while her gaze stayed on him.
He couldn’t breathe for aching.
“I’m wet,” she said.
That was it. He was done. Waiting any longer was impossible, as impossible as keeping his hands from filling themselves with her breasts and his lips from kissing hers. He grabbed a condom from her bedside table, tore open the packet, and rolled it over his length.
Her neck arched on a gasp as he entered her. He paused there, holding himself still, trying to get a check on this sudden overwhelming need. Christ. His chest felt like it was cracking open. No, not his chest, his entire being. Like the feeling inside was too much to be contained by things like bone and muscle. It shocked him with its enormity. What was he supposed to do with all this need?
“Eli?” She looked at him with a question in her eyes.
He couldn’t answer. He was afraid of what the words might be.
Whatever she saw in his face made her own expression soften. “Eli,” she said again, so sweet, and this time it wasn’t a question. It was an answer. To everything.
He moved now, unable to hold back. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her legs locked around his hips. And now he knew what to do with all that need. Give it to Emma. Share it with her. Harder. Deeper. More.
She pressed her face against his neck, rained quick kisses there before scraping with her teeth, her internal muscles pulsing around him as she found her release. He was on the edge of his own, desperate now to slow it down, to give himself a little more time here inside her. A moment longer, just a moment.
But it was too late. Pleasure roared through him in a thundering wave, blindsiding him with ecstasy and breaking his damn heart. He held on tight to Emma, desperate to keep her close.
Just once more. For the last time
Everything was for the last time.