“Actually, Tink, I had already been thinking it’s past time to face my demons. Passing Circle H today was the first big one.” She holds my hand, using her free one to smooth the slight wrinkles from the shoulder of my fresh black t-shirt. “The dinner conversation we’re about to have is the next.”
A knock sounds on the door before my youngest sister, Finley’s, voice calls out. “Dinner’s ready, y’all.” I open the door to find my seventeen-year-old sister looking much too grown up as her gaze moves past me to land on Emmy at my side.
Her eyes light up as a smile stretches across her face. “I’m so excited to meet you, Miss Hart?—”
“Please, call me Em.”
Finley’s smile grows even broader, her big doe eyes shining in delight. “Did you break up with Lawson Wilde to be with my brother?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, continuing at top speed as Emmy and I exchange a smirk.
“I can’t believe you’re here! I’ve seen everything you’ve ever starred in.” She glances away almost shyly, which is absurd for my vibrant, outspoken baby sister. “I loved you since the first time Fordy brought me to seeLes Misérables.”
Emmy rounds on me as Finley rushes off downstairs, looking up at me with a questioning gaze. “You brought your sister to my show?”
I nod once as we move to follow Finley, my stomach protesting when I catch the scent of Momma’s cooking.
Fuck, I’ve missed that.
“And how many times didyoucome and see it?”
“Twice a week, every week, and as many matinee performances as I could manage.” I can feel her eyes penetrating me when she inhales sharply, so I glance down at her and brush the backs of my fingers against the apple of her cheek. “I told you, Tink. Every step of the way.”
She swallows, her eyes shining with unshed tears as a bittersweet smile tips her lips, and I can’t help myself from closing the gap between us to take her mouth with mine in a leisurely kiss, uncaring of who could easily see us at the top of the stairs.
Emmy winds her arms around my neck, pulling me close as she deepens the kiss, arching her chest against mine before pulling away. My groan of displeasure fills the space, and she giggles as she continues down the staircase, tugging me after her with a whispered, “Later.”
EMERSON
The atmosphere at the dinner table is frosty, and if it weren’t for Ford’s mom, Abi, and his sisters, Lissie and Finley, keeping the conversation moving, I’m entirely sure there’d be silence.
Ford’s eldest sister, Fallon, is sitting at the head of the table, glowering at her plate of beef enchiladas like they’re a personalaffront. Faith is to her left, steadily shoveling food into her mouth while keeping her eyes firmly down.
Whispering Willows ranch manager, Luke Sullivan—or Sully, as I recall him—joined in the conversation here and there throughout the meal, but he mostly watched Fallon. It isn’t until the inevitable showdown arrives that he sits back in his seat, taking everything in with a slight smirk on his ruggedly handsome features.
Abi stands up to bring the empty plates back to the kitchen, but Ford puts a gentle hand on hers.
“You sit, Momma. I’ll clean up.”
She smiles at him, opening her mouth to thank him, but is cut off by Fallon spitting, “I guess you’ll want a pat on the back for that, big brother.”
Ford’s shoulders sag as he shakes his head. “Come on, Fal. Get it over with. I’ve only been waiting for this conversation for the past five years.”
His sister pushes to stand, her chair hitting the ground behind her when the sudden motion knocks it over. “We would’ve had it before now had you not run away to New York, leaving the rest of us to deal with the fallout.” Fallon narrows her blue eyes, almost identical to Ford’s, as she glares at him. “I was eighteen, with no clue how to run this ranch. That’s whatyouwere supposed to do. Instead, you fucked off and never bothered your ass to come back.”
“Language, Fallon.”
Abi pins her eldest daughter with a hard stare, and Fallon’s jaw ticks before she murmurs, “Sorry, Momma.”
My eyes shift to Sully, watching as his smile grows broader, and I can’t help but think he’s enjoying this.
“I didn’tplanon stayin’ away, Fal.” Despite the seriousness of their conversation, my lips twitch as his Texan drawl reappears, just as it always does when he’s pissed off.
Or turned on.
“It just…” He sighs exasperatedly, searching for the right words. “It never felt like the time was right to come back. I didn’t feel like Ifithere anymore…”
He trails off, his forehead creasing heavily as he expels a sigh. “I haven’t felt like I fitanywherethese past five years, truth be told.”
The bare honesty in his admission makes my chest ache, and when Abigail catches my eyes from across the table, I send her a sad smile that she returns with one of her own.
