The Crush (21)



Emmett Ward lived up to the hype.

It wasn’t like I’d forgotten, but my brain probably blocked it out as some defense mechanism, and it only took half a day watching him interact with my family to remember exactly how much I liked him, exactly how much he lived up to his own hype.

He helped my mom in the kitchen without being asked, assembling sandwiches with his shower-wet hair slicked back off his forehead.

He asked thoughtful questions about our family history while we ate, laughing heartily at stories of what it was like when Mom and Tim got married and had to combine a household of six kids ages ten and under.

Not once did he dominate the conversation or steer it toward himself.

He was interested in Wilder Homes, asking Tim about how he started the business and his favorite part of building someone a home.

They briefly talked about trusses or supports, and my mind glazed over, but Emmett leaned forward with bright-eyed interest.

When someone answered one of his questions, he kept his focus on them, never a doubt that he was giving them his undivided attention.

Only in the moments when conversation happened separate from him did Emmett allow his gaze to settle back onto me.

I tried not to notice when it happened. But I was physically incapable.

As everyone dispersed, Tim and my mom settling onto the couch, I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

“Why are you glaring at him?” Greer whispered.

We were clearing the table, setting the plates and silverware on the kitchen island, because Emmett was washing the dishes so my mom could relax.

I know.

“I’m not glaring.”

Greer snorted. I was glaring a little.

“He’s got to have a flaw,” I hissed. “I mean, statistically, he has to, right?”

She nodded resolutely. “Yes.”

Emmett’s gaze snagged on mine, and his lips curled up in a slight smile when I fumbled the pile of plates in my hand.

“Steady there,” Parker said from the other side of me. “He’ll sense your fear.”

“Oh, bite me,” I murmured. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

He laughed. “What was I supposed to do? Tell my friend he can’t come for a visit because you’re afraid to be alone with him? It’s not like I knew that.”

I ignored Parker, setting the plates onto the counter and moving back toward the table. My voice stayed low so Emmett couldn’t hear us.

“I’m not afraid to be alone with him. There’s just no reason that I should be.” I held my stepbrother’s eyes, daring him to argue. “He’s here to visit you, not me.”

Wisely, he held his hands up and backed away.

Emmett finished drying a plate, the muscles flexing underneath the golden skin covering his forearms. Greer sidled up next to me.

“Maybe he kisses like a fish,” she whispered, “or he’s really bad in bed. Or has a tiny penis.”

“Gawd, that would be so sad,” I said without thinking.

She nudged me. “Why would it be sad if you don’t intend on being alone with him?”

My glare swiveled to my sister. She laughed, drawing Emmett’s attention back in our direction.

My family knew me too well. That was the problem.

Parker knew exactly why I didn’t want to be alone with Emmett.

Greer knew why I was trying to unearth some fatal trait that would make a girl run in the opposite direction.

Because something about this man always turned me upside down. And with the current state of my life, I needed it steady and sure-footed. There was absolutely no space to be disoriented by someone like him.

Someone, I reminded myself firmly, who had already hurt me once.

Emmett was, quite regrettably for him, my very first experience with an athlete who couldn’t see anything beyond his sport. Or least couldn’t see me, not in the big picture of whatever his football ambitions had been.

It was the reminder I needed, and it had my chest going a little tight. Nick might not have crushed my heart, but I was still feeling very, very tender.

So while he dried dishes and asked thoughtful questions and danced like a dream, while he had a jawline that was cut out of stone and biceps that you could balance a small child on, he still taught me a lesson that I hadn’t quite learned until it was too late.

It was impossible to force someone to make you a priority.

It was impossible to make someone feel the same way you did.

And it was impossible to force the stars to align when the timing wasn’t right.

And because I didn’t know exactly what Emmett’s priorities were these days, what stars were in alignment for him, I found myself in need of some fresh air. “I’ll be right back,” I said to the room at large.

My mom caught my eye from where she was reading a book. Her brows bent in concern, and I gave her an encouraging smile.

Parker and Cameron didn’t look up from whatever they were watching on TV, and Greer walked into the kitchen to show Emmett where the dishes went in the cupboards.

Even though I didn’t want to, I looked at him over my shoulder before I walked out the door, and there was a thoughtful expression on his face.

The log house where I grew up was smack dab in the middle of fifteen acres just outside of the town of Sisters, which was sandwiched between high desert and the Cascade Mountain range. Our backyard was jam-packed with towering fir trees, and even though we kept busy exploring the land when we were younger, one of the first things Tim did when they got married was to clear a bigger yard so he could build us the very best swing set any of us had ever seen.

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