Chapter 5

5

R y Blackwood had almost kissed her…

At least that's what Emerson thought might have happened. She had no experience in reading those kind of social cues, however, because she had never been on a date, much less been kissed. She thought she had to be the only twenty-nine-year-old woman in Lost Creek who fit that particular description. Probably the only one in all of Texas.

Her life had not been an easy one, growing up in foster care. No time was devoted to boys and dating during her high school years. She was always either working or studying, trying to earn top grades in order to win a scholarship in order to have the opportunity to go to college.

Education had been her way out of poverty. She had to maintain a certain GPA in college to keep the scholarships and grants which had been awarded to her. Emerson had also worked long hours at various jobs when not in the classroom. While she was always friendly with other employees, she erected an invisible barrier around her that flashed FRIENDS ONLY . Her male co-workers had respected that. Respected her, because she was such a hard worker.

Things hadn't changed when she'd moved to Lost Creek. She was grateful Mary Miller had given her a job in the classroom, and Emerson had thrown herself wholeheartedly into teaching. Many hours outside the classroom also were devoted to being an excellent teacher, which left little time for a social life. She created lesson plans. Graded assessment from papers to projects to tests. Talked frequently with parents, keeping them apprised of their child's growth. All those things took up an inordinate amount of time. Once she got her feet under her, she decided to take on the part-time work at Ethel Frederick's bakery. Those hours ate into any free time where she might have gone on a date. Not that anyone had been asking.

Having lived with Finley during the six years they had been teaching at Lost Creek Elementary, she had seen Finley's boyfriends come and go. None of them— before Holden —had made her friend happy. Those failed relationships had Emerson grateful she had isolated herself the way she had. She enjoyed her work and was lucky to have a growing network of close friends she trusted. That was all she needed.

Not a complication like Ry Blackwood.

His hand had come to rest possessively on her waist, though, and Emerson had not known what to say or do. While her brain told her to move away from him, instinct had been whispering in her ear to step closer instead. There had been a moment when Ry looked at her and she felt a kiss was coming. Then it seemed he changed his mind, which she thought was a very sensible thing. Ry Blackwood oozed sex appeal, and he had probably kissed his way into the lives of dozens of women. She didn't need the former army vet distracting her, not when she was just beginning to figure out things at the bakery and in her own life.

Besides, one kiss— and he would be able to tell how inexperienced she was. That would be downright embarrassing. Someone like Emerson could never truly interest a man such as Ry Blackwood.

Still, a tiny part of her wished that he had kissed her. Just so she could experience what a kiss was like.

Emerson was aware of his palm fitted against the small of her back now, shooting tingles throughout her body. Her mouth had grown dry, and she hoped no one was expecting her to say anything for the next few minutes.

Ivy stopped and turned. "Wait here, Ry. Watch for Harper's signal." She looked at Emerson. "Come on. We're supposed to be seated. Shy and Shelly are about to bring in the plates from the kitchen."

Nodding, Emerson stepped away with Ivy. Suddenly, she felt bereft without Ry's warm palm against her. She fought the urge to glance over her shoulder and was pleased when she didn't give in and look back at him.

She and Ivy went to the two tables which Harper had set beautifully for tonight's dinner in Ry's honor.

Harper approached them. "Sit here, Em," she said crisply as Ivy moved away and went to the other table, where Dax seated her next to him.

Others were taking their seats, as well, and Emerson greeted Bill and Cecily Hart. Harper's parents took a seat to her right. Braden joined them and sat next to Bill, and Emerson counted the empty chairs, realizing she would be sitting at the table with Ry and his parents.

Immediately, she shot to her feet and took a few steps to Harper, whispering, "I should sit at the other table."

Her friend frowned. "I already have the seating arrangements organized, Emerson. I want even numbers at each table. Go back and sit next to Mom."

She knew not to question Harper when she was in coordinator mode. Harper planned every detail, down to the smallest one. Emerson would not rock the boat tonight, no matter how uncomfortable she was.

She saw Shy and Shelly Blackwood appear, both of them rolling a cart filled with covered plates. Shelly went to the table of six, which now held Dax and Ivy, Holden and Finley, as well as Wolf and Ana Ramirez. The director and his producer wife lived nearby at Meadow Creek Ranch with their two children and had started their own production company. They were now filming Hill Country Homicide , based on the second novel Holden had written. Holden had written a screenplay from his own novel, and Finley was taking stills and working on an ad campaign for the movie. Emerson liked the couple and thought Ry would, too.

Shy approached Harper, who stood nearby and said, "I see not everyone is seated. Should we go ahead with the service?"

Harper smiled. "Yes, Shy. Distribute all the dinners if you would."

The caterer nodded at his wife, and Shelly Blackwood began setting plates of food in front of those seated at Finley's table. Shy did the same at the table Emerson sat at.

Once Shy had set the last plate on the table, he looked to Harper. "Anything else? If not, Shelly and I will be cleaning up in the kitchen."

"There is one more thing." Harper motioned Shelly over and as the town's diner owner came toward her, Harper glanced over her shoulder.

Ry began walking toward them, and Emerson couldn't help but be attracted to the tall, muscular, former soldier. He was as handsome as sin and had a smile the Devil himself would envy, one he now used to full effect as he marched toward his unsuspecting parents. Both Shy and Shelly had their backs to their son, and Harper pointed, drawing their attention to the banner hanging on the wall.

Emerson watched the couple and heard Shelly's gasp when she understood what was happening. Shelly whirled just as Ry reached his parents, and she threw her arms about her son, burying her face against his chest. Emerson heard her sobs of joy.

"It's okay, Mom," Ry comforted. "I'm here. I'm finally home."

A tearful Shelly Blackwood raised her head, looking into her son's eyes. "Oh, Ry. I never thought this day would come."

Glancing to Shy, Emerson saw tears filled his eyes, as well.

"Come here, son," Shy ordered, and he wrapped Ry in a bear hug, slapping his son on the back several times before clutching him as if he never wanted to let go.

Harper slipped into a seat next to Braden, satisfaction on her face.

Ry beamed at his parents and then said, "Hope you enjoyed the surprise."

Shelly took a napkin from the table and removed the ring from it, mopping her eyes with the fabric. "You certainly know how to make an entrance, son," she said.

"Have a seat," Harper urged. "I know Ry's been looking forward to seeing you and eating some Blackwood BBQ."

Shy seated his wife, and Ry sat next to Emerson. He turned and smiled at her.

"Thanks for being a part of pulling off the surprise," he said, his eyes full of sincerity. Then he glanced to Harper. "Thanks for all you did to make this happen, Harp. Now, if y'all don't mind, I'm ready to dig in to the best barbeque in Texas."

Everyone laughed and for a few minutes, Ry didn't say a word. Emerson watched as he sampled a bit of everything on his plate. Brisket. Sausage. Pulled pork. Potato salad and baked beans. Fluffy, yeasty rolls.

As far as the Blackwoods were concerned, both of them would take a bite and then stare lovingly at their only son. In their gazes, Emerson saw great love. It hurt for her to swallow her own food, and she reached for the iced tea in front of her plate, trying to get a few bites of pork down. She was happy for Ry and his parents, being reunited after so long a time apart. She had never known that kind of love or support from her own parents, though. At least she had her friends, who were fast becoming the family she never had.

"I've tasted everything— and it's even better than I remembered," Ry pronounced, causing those gathered to chuckle.

"When did you get in, Ry?" asked Shelly.

"I flew in this afternoon," he told his mother. "Harper and Ivy picked me up in San Antonio and stashed me away so I wouldn't run into you. I wanted to surprise you and Dad, and I think I did."

Shy gestured with his fork, asking, "So, what time will you be at Blackwood BBQ tomorrow morning?"

Again, laughter filled the air.

"At least I'm assuming you want to come to work with me and not your mama," Shy added.

"Smoking meat is in my blood, Dad," Ry said. "No offense to you and the Lone Star Diner, Mom, but I'm a barbeque man at heart."

Shelly grinned at him through tears. "I never thought you would come and work at the diner, Ry."

"Don't say that," he protested. "I put in my fair share of a few summers there. Busing tables. Washing dishes. But I've always wanted to put roots down in Lost Creek and go to work at Blackwood BBQ."

"You mean that, son?" asked Shy. "You've worked out that wanderlust of yours?"

Ry nodded. "I've seen a lot of the world. More than most people ever have a chance to do." He glanced around at the guests who had come to welcome him home. "Without a doubt, I can say that Lost Creek is the best place in the world to be."

"I second that," Braden said, raising his wine glass.

Lifting his glass of wine, Dax said, "I third it. Is that even a word?"

Everyone laughed.

"I really mean it," Ry told those gathered. "There's something special about Lost Creek that makes it home. I wouldn't want to live any other place." He slipped an arm about his dad's shoulders. "And I can't think of a better boss to work for than you, Dad."

They returned to their dinners, and Emerson ate sparingly. Normally, where Blackwood BBQ was concerned, she would have cleaned her plate.

Things were different, though. Tonight was different. Her insides were churning in an odd way. She felt almost breathless and restless at the same time, being seated so close to Ry. She had a sensitive nose and could smell his very essence. No cologne, just a clean, masculine scent that had her heart racing.

When Emerson saw that people were almost done eating, she slipped from her chair and went to the cake she had baked. She glanced to Finley to make certain her friend had taken a few pictures of it, and Finley nodded, confirming that she had.

The cake was situated on a table which rolled, and so Emerson moved it to where it was close to both tables.

She looked at Harper to see if she should cut it, but Harper shook her head slightly, mouthing, "Wait."

Emerson stepped behind the table and saw Ry glance her way.

"Ah, as much as I was eager to dine on Dad's barbeque, Emerson has outdone herself tonight and baked something ooey-gooey chocolatey for me." Looking to Harper and then Ivy, he said, "Thanks for passing along the fact that I live, eat, and breathe chocolate."

Ry rose and came toward her, offering Emerson a warm smile. "Would you do the honors and dish it up for us, Emerson?"

"I'm happy to do so, Ry," she said calmly, surprised at how even her voice sounded.

As she sliced into the cake and placed a serving on each plate, Ry distributed them to the guests. He placed the last two dessert plates in front of their empty seats, and Emerson returned to the table.

Ry continued to stand, however, and it was obvious that he wanted to address those gathered.

"I missed this place more than I thought possible. I'm eager to be back and become a part of this town again. I want to thank everyone who came tonight to welcome me home, both those familiar faces and the new ones which have become part of the fabric of Lost Creek, people who are important to those I already love. Thanks again for such an incredible welcome home."

He paused. "And nobody better ask for seconds on desserts— because those leftovers are coming home with me."

Laughter broke out, and Ry returned to his seat. Emerson watched out of the corner of his eye as he took a bite of her latest concoction. He let out a soft moan.

Turning to face her, their gazes met. "I may just have to marry you, Emerson. Just for your ability to make my belly happy."

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as everyone at their table laughed at his teasing remark.

"You don't have a husband to divorce or a boyfriend I have to compete with, do you?" Ry asked playfully.

"No," she said softly. "I'm married to my job, but you're welcomed to come to The Bake House and purchase whatever you want."

She turned back to her cake, lifting her fork and taking a bite of dessert, pleased with how it had turned out.

Suddenly, her free hand in her lap was engulfed with warmth, and she quickly glanced down, seeing Ry's large hand atop hers. Her eyes flew to meet his gaze.

"Since there isn't a husband or boyfriend in the picture, Emerson, maybe you'd like to go out with me Friday night."