I wouldn’t skip town for seven weeks after the event, leaving her unprotected.”
Yeah, Tremaine definitely didn’t like him.
“One, I don’t know if you heard, but Em can protect herself. She’s a crack shot,” Jack said with pride. “Two, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Bailey made a face at Cooper and then turned to Jack. “Okay, yes, not cool to leave after that happened, even if Em is Lara Croft. Jeez, she’s like a coin block in Super Mario Bros., except instead of coins coming out every time something hits her, secrets do.” She frowned. “That was one too many video game analogies. Anyhoo … we all know why you left, and looking after your family is noble.” She shot Tremaine an admonishing look before turning back to Jack. “Something I’m sure Emery completely understands.”
“Yeah?” Jack sipped his beer. “Is that why she told me to get the fuck off her porch?”
Bailey’s eyes widened. “She said that? The word ‘fuck’ and everything?”
Jack nodded.
She burst out laughing. Vaughn grunted with amusement at her side.
“Thanks,” Jack muttered sarcastically.
“No, I’m sorry.” Bailey patted him on the shoulder. “It’s just, I’m a little proud of her.” Her eyes bugged out at Tremaine. “A lot proud of her.”
Her fiancé gave her an affectionate, loving smile that transformed him.
That’s what women did to you.
Turned you from a badass, alpha male into a lovesick idiot. Jack would scoff at it, if he hadn’t already experienced the effects of being a lovesick idiot for the last nine years.
“You should write her a letter,” Bailey announced.
“What?”
“If she won’t talk to you, then write her a love letter.” She leaned into Jack. “Emery is a romantic. You want a chance with her, then you need to lay your cards on the table. Be completely honest with her. Write it all down. I promise … no woman can resist a love letter.”
“Is that so?” Tremaine murmured.
“Yes, that’s so.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “So, your vows better be something else.”
His eyes gleamed. “No pressure, then.”
The couple bent their heads toward each other. Jack turned away, Cooper watching him warily.
“What do you think?” Jack asked.
Cooper leaned in, lowering his voice. “I think … maybe something else happened between you … Otherwise Emery wouldn’t have told you to fuck off. Because the last time I saw you both, she didn’t look too unhappy about having your arm around her.”
“I didn’t … We were together. And then Rebecca called after and I had to leave. Em was still asleep,” he muttered. “I left a note about giving her some space to think—”
“You did what?” Cooper grimaced at him.
“I’m getting the strong feeling that was the wrong move.”
His old buddy sighed heavily. “You’ve screwed around with more women than I can count, and somehow you still don’t know the first thing about them.”
“Then tell me what to do.” Jack clenched his jaw in self-directed anger. “Tell me how to fix this with her.”
“Answer one thing first.”
He nodded.
“Do you love her?”
Jack’s gut twisted. “Since that night I first saw her, Coop.”
At his raw honesty, Cooper grinned. “Then maybe Bails is right. I wouldn’t know how to write a letter, but if it was what it would’ve taken to get Jess, I’d have written a fucking letter.”
A love letter.
Jack exhaled slowly.
Right.
25
Emery
“You did what?” I gaped at Bailey in disbelief.
She was my first customer of the morning, popping by before the store was even open. Standing casually with a to-go cup in each hand, one for her and one for Dahlia, Bailey smiled at me like she had done nothing wrong.
“You invited Jack to your wedding?”
“I did.”
“And he said yes?”
“Of course, he said yes. It would be rude to say no.”
I felt a flicker of nausea and took a deep breath to stem the tide.
“Em, it’s not that bad. You’re a bridesmaid so you’ll hardly get the chance to interact with him.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
I narrowed my eyes. “Do you think I’m a moron? I know what you’re up to, Bails.”
“Moi?” She pointed innocently to herself, all wide-eyed and cute. “I’m merely making sure that everyone who deserves it feels welcome to attend our wedding.”
“Deserves it?”
“We’re not overly persnickety. As long as you’re not a home-wrecking sociopath, a backstabbing sister, a murderer, or are currently in jail on federal charges, we’re pretty happy to extend an invitation.”
“So, no Dana, then?” I teased, despite my upset.
“Absolutely not. And she’s livid.” Bailey grinned wickedly. “The biggest wedding this town has seen in fifty years, and