Page 71 of That One Night
“I guess she means well.”
“I know she does.” Jed nodded. “She’s a good woman. She’s just a little adrift, is all. She needs to find herself again.” A smile ghosted his lips. “And that way she won’t spend all her time thinking about you.”
“You’re a wise man, Jed.” Emery grinned. “You know that?”
“I’m just a farm man.” He shrugged. “But people aren’t that different to cattle.”
A low hum of an engine came from the main road. She turned to see a cloud of dirt lifting behind a motorcycle. And of course her breath stuttered, because even though she’d seen him a couple of hours ago, it felt like so much longer.
Like he could read her mind, Jed turned to see the motorcycle taking the curve from the main road onto the track that led to their farms.
“He’s gonna hurt himself riding like that one day,” he murmured.
“I think he knows how to take care of himself,” Emery replied. For a second she could feel Jed staring at her, like he was trying to read something in her expression.
The bike took a turn into Hendrix’s driveway, coming to a stop with a skid. He climbed off and looked over at her, a smile pulling at his lips.
And that was all it took for her heart to slam against her chest.
“Well, I’d best be getting back to work.” Jed patted her arm. “Give your mom some time. She’ll get used to the fact you’re a grown up and can make your own decisions.”
“I hope so.” She gave him a soft smile.
“And honey?”
“Yes?”
“Your dad would be proud of you, you know? For trying to help your mom.”
Her throat felt tight. “Thanks Jed.”
“No problem.” He winked. “Now go fetch those eggs. That cake isn’t going to bake itself.”
“Honey, I’m heading out to book club,” her mom said later that day, walking into the kitchen to grab the cake she’d left on the table. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
Glancing out of the kitchen window, Emery saw movement coming from Hendrix’s house. The front door opened and he called something out to Frank, who turned his head to look at the stupidly handsome man walking toward him.
Her breath caught. He was fresh out of the shower, his chest bare, his jeans loosely fastened at his waist, revealing the band of his boxers. His hair was slicked back and he had a bottle of beer in his hands, beads of condensation clinging to the brown bottle.
He lifted his head, like he was looking straight at her. Then he put the beer to his mouth, tipping his head back to take a sip. She watched, fascinated, as his throat undulated as he swallowed the ice cold liquid down.
“That man,” her mom huffed, her voice making Emery jump, because she hadn’t realized her mom had gotten up from the table and was right behind her. “He’s always parading around half naked. Like he’s some kind of… what did Rita-Mae call it? Thirst trap.”
Emery tried not to laugh.
“He’s probably just overheated,” she murmured to her mom. “He’s been working on the farm all day. Remember how Dad used to get bright red and sweaty?”
“He always wore an undershirt,” her mom pointed out.
“Yeah, well, I remember you sneaking looks at him like he was the hottest thing this side of the Mississippi River,” Emery told her.
A smile pulled at her mom’s lips, like there was a secret memory there. For a moment she looked younger than her years. Like the woman Emery remembered from when she was a kid. So pretty in her dresses. Giggling every time her dad made a joke. The two of them would sneak kisses every time they thought Emery wasn’t looking.
“Yeah, well he might be easy on the eye,” her mom said, nodding over at Hendrix. “But he’s still trouble.”
“Aren’t they all?” Emery said.
Her mom actually laughed. And it sounded so sweet that it made Emery’s heart ache. Was this the first time she’d heard her mom giggle since she’d come home to help get the house ready?
