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The feminine way she moved, the tilt of her head, the way she wore her hair. God, she was breathtaking. She was so…so Jo Ellen.
He told himself he hadn’t been pining for her. But seeing her brought about an almost painful awareness, making his skin grow tight and foreign. He couldn’t work his lungs right, and his hearing went wonky so he couldn’t make out anything Emma Leigh said to him past the buzzing in his eardrums.
He quietly exhaled a long breath, trying to calm himself before he nudged Em’s elbow. “Expecting any more to join your party tonight?”
Chapter Nine
Jo Ellen took a deep breath as she entered the tavern, paying careful attention to dropping her keys into her purse and clicking the latch closed.
She hated entering a social establishment alone. She should’ve just told Emma Leigh she’d meet her at their parents’ house where they were staying the entire week.
Thank God she heard her sister’s voice as soon as she tucked her purse under her arm. “Hey, Joey. Over here.”
She didn’t know what she would’ve done, loitering aroun
d the bar and looking pathetic all by her lonesome until Emma Leigh had arrived. Relieved she didn’t have to worry about any of that, she smiled and glanced toward the call to find Alexa and Dexter gathered around Branson and her sister. Her step faltered before she regained her momentum, forcing herself to suck it up. If she was going to be stuck as their fifth wheel for the entire week, she might as well get used to it now.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I ran into a traffic jam on the interstate and—”
“You’re not late.” Em checked the Rolex on her wrist. “You’re ten minutes early.”
“I am?” Jo Ellen frowned and consulted her own slim, silver watch. “Then what’re you doing here?”
Her sister really had changed if she actually ran on time these days.
Emma Leigh tossed back her long, dark hair and laughed before explaining, “Oh no. I haven’t changed that much.” She hooked a loving thumb Branson’s way. “Even Mr. Dependable here can’t keep me on time for anything. This one is all Lexi’s fault. She was starving, which forced us to get here early.”
As they glanced in unison at Dexter’s wife, the bartender served her a plate of steaming barbeque. She grinned and waved before she picked up a sauce-dripping rib with her bare fingers and tore into the juicy meat.
Jo Ellen smiled fondly and neared Alexa to set her hand on the baby bump. “How’s my little goddaughter doing in there?” She stroked once before she felt an answering kick. The sign of growing life caught her in the throat, choking her up. So bittersweet, it had her blinking back tears as she dropped her fingers from Lexi’s abdomen.
Nearby, Dexter corrected her, saying, “Godson.”
She brightened. “Oh, you found out the gender?”
“Oops.” Emma Leigh cringed. “Forgot to tell you. They’re having a boy.”
Jo Ellen rolled her eyes. How typical of her sister to forget something so important. Setting her hand on her hip in a scolding manner, she angled a frown at Emma Leigh’s husband. “I thought we discussed this, Branson. You were supposed to work on her communication skills, remember?” She tried to look stern but was sure he could see the teasing glint in her eyes, not to mention the lips she tightened to keep from grinning.
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Hey, she has no problem communicating to me, telling me whenever I mess something up.” Then he grinned, showing how much he didn’t mind such communication.
Jo Ellen laughed, pleased to see her sister so happily married to a man who adored her. This was exactly the life she’d always dreamed of for her twin…and herself.
As the amused sound chimed from her vocal chords, she heard a sharp intake of breath nearby, from the man seated at the bar next to her group. She could make out a vague, blurry image of him from her peripheral vision. By his jeans, boots, and hat, he screamed local, which was exactly why she refused to glance over and focus on his face. From the instant she’d entered Rio’s, she’d been too nervous to look directly at anyone besides the four she’d come to see, too afraid she might recognize someone from years ago.
Cowardly move, sure, but she didn’t care. Her nerves had wadded themselves into a huge, messy ball and she was performing as well as could be expected, faking all her smiles.
But Emma Leigh just had to go and say, “Oh, hey. Look who we ran into as soon as we got here.”
She grabbed Jo Ellen’s arm and revolved her toward the man, practically shoving her into his lap, right between a pair of spread knees. Eyes widening, Jo Ellen gaped at those thick, masculine knees, covered by thin, fraying denim. Her eyes strayed up of their own will, taking in strong, muscled thighs and somehow landing on his crotch, where the fly of his jeans stretched over an impressive bulge nestled under a big shiny brass belt buckle.
She gulped as the man scooted upright, obviously also alarmed by Emma Leigh thrusting her so close.
“Coop’s here,” her sister announced.
Coop?
As in Cooper Gerhardt?
