Emily’s mouth dropped open, but Darlene continued as if they were discussing the weather.
“I mean, this will hit them hard, what with Rick passing only months ago. Your mother didn’t say who the father was.” Darlene was gunning for another dig, but Emily was ahead of the game and about to shut the inquisition down.
“That’s because she doesn’t know.”
“Why on earth doesn’t she know?” She made a tsk-tsk sound and shook her head. “I know you and Lorraine have always had a complicated relationship, but she didn’t mention you two were on the outs.”
“Nope. We’re good.” Emily’s fake smile widened even more as she tugged on Bilbo’s leash. “The thing is, Darlene, I’d tell her who the father is if I knew, but…I don’t.” She shrugged and then walked past Darlene, head high, holding back a giggle that didn’t leave until she got home. The look on that woman’s face had been worth it—at least that’s what Emily had told herself. But now regret and a healthy dose of fear had settled in, and she wasn’t sure what to do.
Folks in town were going to know she was pregnant sooner rather than later because of her mother’s mouth and people like Darlene, and because in a few months, she’d be showing. In a town where everyone knew everyone else’s business, it was normal for folks to ask questions. Normal for talk and wonder. Lord knows Emily had been the subject of much speculation and chatter in the years Rick was in a coma. That speculation and chatter had increased after his death. Everyone wanted to know what the young widow would do with this life that had been handed to her. Would she find love again? And if so, with who?
Once her pregnancy became common knowledge, they’d all be wondering who the father was. Cheeks hot, she leaned against the counter, sipping a big glass of milk. God, she hadn’t thought of Helen and Charles, Rick’s parents. What was she going to tell them? They’d worshipped the ground Rick walked on and treated Emily more like a daughter than her own mother and Ethan like one of their boys.
Would they understand the pain and grief that had brought Emily to Ethan’s door that night? Did she even understand it?
The ghosts of that hot summer evening came back to haunt her—Ethan’s dark, intense eyes, the shadows that played across his face as he looked at her, the hard muscles beneath her fingertips and the feel of him as he moved inside her. A tingling erupted between her legs at the thought, and immediately, her nipples hardened.
It felt wrong and so right at the same time. She bit her lip painfully to stop the memories and images.
But she couldn’t. God help her, but she couldn’t.
She slammed her eyes shut, but it did no good. She was back there at Ethan’s place. She could smell the rain, feel the humidity on her skin. An ache so big it felt like it could encompass the Grand Canyon spread across her chest. Time and distance hadn’t lessened any of it. She’d been on the edge of something dark that Sunday night. Alone and in pain, with only one thought as to who could make things right. The only person who could understand what she was going through. The one man who’d always been there for her no matter what…
Ethan.
The moon was low as she made her way down to the dock. It shimmered over the lake, sprinkling diamonds across the surface. Most people would see the scene in front of her as magical, but for Emily, the quiet and beauty only made the hurt bigger. She was lost in the pull of that hurt—a wounded animal who wandered aimlessly in search of relief. And tonight, her wandering had brought her to Ethan.
He sat in a low chair at the end of the dock, staring out at that magical moon. As she approached she noticed he was shirtless, wearing a pair of old jean shorts and nothing else. His hair was longer, touching the tops of his shoulders, and moonbeams slid across taut muscle, wide shoulders and long legs spread out in front of him.
Ethan Caldwell had always been a beautiful man, full of confidence and a quick, easy smile that had lit up most of the women in town at one time or another. But that light had disappeared the night of Rick’s accident, leaving only a cold hardness in its place. Now, with Rick recently gone, Ethan looked lost.
They’d both loved Rick so much, and it made her heart hurt even more to see Ethan like this. She must have made a sound or something, because suddenly, he yanked his head around and his eyes pierced hers through the darkness.
She shivered, though it was humid and warm.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “It’s late.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Ethan swore, though he didn’t take his eyes from her.
“I can’t sleep,” she replied again. “I was thinking about…” She let out a long breath and shuddered. “I was remembering that night we all went to the island and camped out.”
“Em, I don’t want to go back there.”
“But you remember, right?” She took a few more steps until she could see him better.
He didn’t answer at first and ran his hands through the thick waves at his nape. He must have realized she wasn’t leaving, and with a sigh, he slowly nodded.
“The night before grad.”
“Rick had been with Miranda Stokes the night before and…”
“You knew?” he interrupted, his voice rough.
“Yes,” she replied softly. “I knew. I was going to break up with him at the island. Embarrass him in front of his friends. But he always had this way of making me forget all the bad things. He’d look at me like I was his world, and he’d lie and I’d believe him until the next time, and then he’d lie again, and we’d rinse and repeat.”
Ethan cleared his throat and turned away from her, once more looking out over the water. “I didn’t know you knew about…Miranda.”
“I knew.” She studied him for a few moments, watching the play of light across the shadow of him there. He was hunched forward and looked so damn sad that it tugged at her. Ethan had always been there for Emily. Always. And she needed him tonight, but maybe he needed her more.
She walked over and stood in front of him, the night air heavy with pain and sadness, anger and regret. When he glanced up at her, the expression on Ethan’s face made her heart turn over. She tried to smile.
“You always tried to protect me.” She got caught up in her words and took a moment. She bent lower and swept a kiss across his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For being there for me.”
It started to rain, and she straightened. “Rick was complicated. Our relationship was complicated, and no one understands like you do. I can’t talk to anyone about him…about us, and I just…” She took a moment. “After the accident, you kind of went away. I respected that you needed space, but Ethan, I missed you, and I needed you, and now…now he’s gone, and I feel…”
She couldn’t put into words the emotions at war inside her.
Pain. Anger. Hurt. Disappointment.
“It’s like when he was in the hospital, in that coma, I knew how to be. How to act. I did what was expected. I went to see him, and I talked to him, and I rubbed lotion onto his hands and played his favorite music.” She attempted a smile. “He’d hate it if you knew, but he had a thing for Britney Spears.” A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, and she swiped at it. “Maybe I was dumb or silly or naïve, but I didn’t think he’d leave me. I always thought one day he’d wake up and life would go on. But now…” Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. “Now everything’s different. I’m the tragic young widow. I walk into a room and no one looks at me. Their eyes drop and their voices fall to whispers because they don’t want me to know they’re talking about me. They don’t know how to be around me, and I don’t know how to just be. It’s like I’m screaming inside, and no one is listening. No one can hear me. No one can see me, and I…”