âIf you have such a problem with my familyâs money, why did you even ask me out tonight?â
âI told you I found you interesting,â Max said.
âThe front page of the newspaper is interesting.â
âAnd because I canât look at you without wanting you.â
Emilyâs lips parted, but her suddenly addled brain couldnât begin to frame a response.
âBut thatâs just about sex,â he added.
âAh,â she said faintly. âSex.â
âAnd the hitch isnât just your money,â he went on, sounding dogged.
âMy familyâs money,â she corrected.
âYouâre also my bossâs sister-in-law. So, like it or not, sleeping with you isnât ⦠smart.â
âPut that way, I suppose it probably isnât.â
She froze when he slid those blunt-tipped, warm fingers over the back of her hand.
âProblem isââ his fingers slowly inched upward ââI usually make a habit of doing things that arenât smart.â
Dear Reader,
Opposites attract. Everybody says so. But aside from that initial wham, when one thing instinctively draws close to another, what keeps them together?
Is it merely physical? Sometimes. But what happens if itâs not? When itâs something deeper? Something underneath the physical where two individuals sense theyâre not opposites at all, but entirely similar, sharing the same needs, harboring the same desires, striving for the same goals?
Thatâs the question Max Allen and Emily Fortune are dealing with, and I thank you for joining them as they discover that what really matters to them isnât their differences or their plans ⦠it is each other.
Allison Leigh
December
Jesus loves me, this I knoooow â¦
The verse of the lullaby that her mother used to sing circled around and around inside Emily Fortuneâs head.
Tears squeezed out from her tightly closed eyes. Sheâd closed them because of the dust and debris, but she knew if she opened them again, she would still be there in the dark.
Alone.
Jesus loves me, this I know â¦
She inhaled on a sob that ended in a choking cough.
She didnât know what had happened.
One minute they had all been walking through the airport. Her brothers up ahead while Emily tried to catch up to her motherâ
She coughed through another choking sob. Where was her mother? Had the world collapsed on her, too? On all of them?
Theyâd been visiting Red Rock for Wendyâs wedding.
More tears burned from the corners of Emilyâs eyes. Wendy. Her baby sister, whoâd looked so beautiful and happyâfinally, finally, happy and settledâas sheâd exchanged vows with Marcos during their Christmas Eve wedding.
Had all of Red Rock collapsed? Were Marcos and Wendy and their baby that she was carrying lost, too?
Jesus loves me â¦
Emily covered her mouth, coughing again. Crying.
She wasnât a crier. She was a planner. A doer. Even her father admitted that about her. Heâd often said thatâs what made her so valuable at her job at FortuneSouth.
But the only thought in her mind right then was that she was going to die.
Her feet were trapped. Numb. She could barely breathe. Couldnât even see her hand in front of her face. All she could hear were the screams inside her head that she couldnât even gather enough strength to let out.
What did it matter if sheâd focused her whole life on becoming valuable to the family business?
She was going to die there, never knowing what had hit the family, never knowing if any of them were safe or not. Sheâd die, never feeling the joy that had been in her little sisterâs face as she said âI doâ to the man she loved. She would never know how it felt to have the proof of that love growing inside her.
Sheâd never hold her daughter in her arms, rocking her to sleep the same way that Emilyâs mother had rocked her. Sheâd never calm a cranky, infant son with a lullaby. Never ⦠never ⦠neverâ
She coughed again as more dust suddenly collapsed onto her, sending off another round of shouting inside her head.
This was to be her only future, then. Ended beneath the rubble of a small, regional airport in southern Texas.
More dirt fell.
Even though there was no point, she curled her arms around her head. Light appeared beyond her eyelids. Beyond her arms. But there was no sense of peace coming over her. No sense of welcome.
Had she lived her life so wrongly that she wouldnât even have that? Just this choking, oppressive aloneness? No future?
She curled her arms tighter around her face. She tried to find the comforting lullaby again ⦠but even the childhood song that had been circling over and over inside her head had deserted her.