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“Emma!”
Her heart lurched, and she spun around to see Kenny racing toward the gate. He looked terrible. His slacks were wrinkled, he was unshaven, and he’d stuck a navy Dean Witter baseball cap over rumpled hair.
“Hold on!” Kenny rushed forward, nearly knocking over an elderly woman in the process, and came to a stop in front of Emma. His chest heaved, and he took a deep breath.
Now what? As Kenny gazed at Emma silhouetted in front of the jetway, he couldn’t seem to get his air back. He’d run all the way from the parking garage, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t breathe. It had something to do with the way his lungs were crushed in his chest.
Last night, after he’d left the Roustabout, he’d driven around for a few hours, then found himself headed for Dallas. When he arrived, he’d gone straight to the golf course instead of to bed. He’d played thirty-six murderous holes; then, when he’d heard what Tiger was doing at Augusta, he’d hit the driving range for another hour. Bleary-eyed with exhaustion, he’d been about to make his way to his condo when he’d realized what day it was. That was when he’d turned around and headed for DFW.
“Ma’am, you’ll have to board now,” the gate attendant said with determined politeness.
Kenny saw Emma’s forehead wrinkle, and then her mouth crumpled. She banged her tote bag against his hip as she curled her hand around his arm. “Oh, Kenny, I’m so sorry about what happened. I never meant to involve you. I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted, and . . . I’ll never forgive myself. Everything happened so fast, and—”
He could see that, if he didn’t stop her, she’d spend the rest of their time together apologizing, but now that he was facing her, he couldn’t think of any of the dozen things he needed to say, especially not with Torie and Dex looking on. He just knew he couldn’t let Emma leave until he’d told her how she’d screwed up his entire life. And also . . . he had to say good-bye.
He whirled on his sister. “Will you get out of here?”
“Not until I’m good and ready.”
“You’re ready!”
Dex stepped forward, took her by the wrist, and drew her far enough away so Kenny could have a little privacy.
“Ma’am, we’re getting ready to close the doors. You have to board.”
He glared at the gate attendant. “Just tell them to wait a minute!”
“I’m sorry, sir, we can’t do that.”
Emma gave the attendant her boarding pass and shot Kenny a pleading look. “I have to go.”
Kenny gritted his teeth. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what you intend to do about the mess you’ve made of my life.”
Her eyes clouded. “I tried to reason with that awful television reporter—all of us did—but he refused to listen.” She began walking backward into the jetway. “I promise, Kenny, I’m going to talk to Dallie and set things right. I left several messages, but he hadn’t returned them by the time I left. I’ll call again as soon as I get on the plane.”
“You did what?” He dashed into the jetway and pulled her back out.
The attendant hissed, “Sir!”
He gave Emma a little shake to get her attention. “By damn, if you say a single word to Dallie about this, you’ll be sorry.”
The attendant stepped closer. “Ma’am, do you want me to call security?”
“No, no.” Emma shook her head. “Everything’s fine.” Once again, she grabbed his arm. “Of course I have to talk to Dallie. I’m the one who’s responsible. I have to explain how this is all my fault.”
“You’re damn right it is, and you’ve got a lot of making up to do, starting right now. Don’t get on that plane.”
“I have to. I have to go back.”
“And leave me to face the mess you created? Not hardly.”
“I won’t. I already told you I’d explain to Dallie, and—”
“And I already told you to mind your own business.”
“But . . .”
“Ma’am, are you getting on this plane or not?”
