“It’s nothing,” he replied gruffly.
“It’s a lot.” Emily glanced back at him and swiped at the tears on her face. “Why? You didn’t want to come in last night, and I…” Her chin trembled and she bit her bottom lip. “I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”
He looked at her for several moments before answering, deciding honesty was the best way to go.
“Maybe I see something of myself in you.” He shrugged, feeling the heaviness of her situation, looking for the words to help her understand and maybe make her feel not so alone. “Folks have always thought I had it easy. That my God-given talent with a football or a hockey stick was the kind of gift that made everything okay. That it elevated me somehow. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a partner, but I know what it’s like to feel lost and screwed up and confused. I’ve had a few folks ask why I quit ball when I was at the top of my game, when I have a lot of good years left in this arm. They would never understand, so I say nothing. The truth is?” Throat tight, he took a moment. “I hated playing ball when I was playing. It was a monkey on my back I couldn’t wait to get rid of, and now that it’s not there, it’s all I think about.”
Shit. What the hell was he doing unloading on Emily like this?
“Can’t you go back?” she asked softly, sniffling a bit. “To football?”
“I could,” he admitted. Only the day before, his agent had been on the horn with chatter about talks for another contract. About the Saints willing to pay a fortune to have him on the field. “I just don’t know if I should.”
Her tears forgotten, Emily frowned. “Why did you hate playing ball? We all thought it was your dream. That you were living it.”
The irony was impressive. “The answer to that is complicated.”
Silence fell between them, broken by the call of a mourning dove. “I can’t thank you enough. The place looks great.” Emily offered a small smile. “Do you want coffee or something?”
“I can’t. I have this thing out at Wyatt’s place.”
“Oh. Right,” she replied woodenly. “I forgot about that.”
“Were you planning on going?”
A noncommittal shrug was his answer.
“I can give you a lift if you like. Wait for you to change and do whatever it is you women do before socializing. I just have to stop at my place and grab a shower on the way.”
“I’m not much fun these days.”
He cracked a grin. “Apparently, neither am I, but it beats sitting here alone, doesn’t it? Thinking about all those things that make you sad?”
“I guess,” she admitted. “Do you know if Ethan’s going to be there?”
Boone hadn’t seen much of Ethan Caldwell since he’d been back in town. Back in the day, they’d been pretty tight, Caldwell had excelled in hockey and had been the goalie on every rep team Boone had played on. “I don’t know. But if he is, maybe you guys can talk and clear the air between you.”
Emily seemed to think about that, and just when he thought she was going to decline his offer, she surprised him. “Give me twenty minutes to shower and make myself presentable.”
Of course, Emily being a woman and all, twenty minutes turned into nearly an hour, and by the time Boone got back to his place to shower and grab the cooler of beer he’d iced in the morning, along with the burgers and buns he’d offered to contribute, it was nearly three in the afternoon and he was about two hours late.
Wyatt and Ruby’s place wasn’t too far from his own. The house sat on a severed piece of land that belonged to the original Blackwell estate, and the house was over one hundred years old and built of stone. A local architect, Mackenzie Draper, had designed an addition to the back of the place that was something else. Incorporating wood, stone masonry, and large floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the natural beauty of Crystal Lake, it had recently been featured in several design magazines, earning Draper another award to add to his impressive collection.
Boone spied his mother’s sedan parked along the side of the driveway and pulled up a few feet in front of it. Emily offered to carry the food while he grabbed the large cooler of refreshments from the back of his truck, and they headed down the path at the side of the house. Voices echoed loudly, and they followed them to the backyard, where the party was in full swing. All the Blackwell men were in attendance, along with their wives and kids, as well as the Bookers, Jake Edwards and his wife, Raine, and local rock celebrity, Cain Black, his wife, Maggie, and their brood. There were a few others Boone hadn’t seen since high school, and some he’d seen quite a bit since he’d been back, including the Jacobs brothers, Nate and Beck.
He set down his cooler on the deck by the others and cracked open a cold one just as Wyatt appeared from inside, hands laden with trays of snacks.
“Ruby’s in the kitchen testing out the sangria with some of the girls,” Wyatt said to Emily before moving aside so she could sneak past with the burgers and buns. “Glad to see you made it.” Wyatt turned back to Boone. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s not great, but it’s good she came. Is Ethan here?”
“Caldwell?” Surprise lit up Wyatt’s face. “I didn’t even think to send him an invite. He’s been a bit squirrely lately. Hell, longer than that, to be truthful.” He lifted his chin. “His place is almost directly across the lake, but no one sees him much. He took Rick’s accident and death pretty hard. They were tight since preschool.”
“I heard.”
“So,” Wyatt said slowly. “You and Emily?”
“What?” Surprised, Boone shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. The lady needs a friend is all.”
He wasn’t sure if Wyatt believed him or not, but he followed him down to the lawn, where some of the guys were playing a pretty competitive game of cornhole. Farther down the beach, a bunch of kids in bathing suits were digging holes to fill with water. He immediately spied his son and smiled at the sight of the little guy, head bent over, pointing and talking animatedly with Cam’s daughter, Tawny.
God, he loved his kid. His chest swelled at the thought. He and the ex might not have gotten a lot of things right, but that kid right there was perfection. Whatever it was Benji and Tawny were looking at seemed mighty important, and he was just about to go investigate when he caught sight of Poppy a few feet away.
In a bikini.
A tiny, nearly obscene bikini.
Well, not really obscene so much as one that fit real good in all the right places. Places he’d touched. Kissed. It made him remember a bunch of other things. Hot things. Long legs entwined with his. Fingers dug into his back. Small breasts pushed up against his chest. Young bodies shaking with anticipation. He shook the memories loose and cleared his head, but it was no use—he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Her hair was loose and waved wildly around her shoulders as she laughed along with some of the women who were down watching the kids. She looked natural and beautiful and…Jesus, his heart took off again, making him feel like a damn teenager. What was it about Poppy Fairbanks that turned him inside out without a word from her? Hell, she hadn’t even noticed he’d arrived.