divorce?â
Simone cast a worried look at her increasingly rebellious fifteen-year-old son, Andrew, who was hanging out with a group of friends on the other side of the green. âMy situation is different. My husband was a crook.â
Who was now in jail, Emily thought.
âAny guy your parents want you to meet would at least be honorable.â
True. Emily shrugged. âI like nice guys, but there has to be chemistry.â It couldnât just be conjured up on demand because her parents wanted it to be.
With Dylan Reeves on the other hand⦠Emily still couldnât believe the audacious cowboy had turned her down, and so rudely! Put his hands on her shoulders and invaded her space.
Simone glanced at the fast-growing crowd, then reached for another tray of brownies off the pastry cart. âHow are you going to explain not having a date with the horse whisperer after you told your brothers you did?â
Good question. Emily added apricot scones to the table. âI could always say something came up, that Dylan wanted to attend but just couldnât.â
âUhâ¦noâ¦you canât.â
Emily brought the buckets of fresh churned ice cream out of the portable cooler, and set them in tubs of ice on the buffet table. âWhy not?â
âBecause Dylanâs here. Talking to Holden and Hank right now.â
Heat flooding her cheeks, Emily turned around. Sure enough, Dylan Reeves was here, looking mighty fine in a starched white shirt, a clean pair of jeans and a black Resistol hat. It was all she could do not to wring her hands in dismay. âHolden and Hank are probably grilling him on why he didnât accompany me. If Dylan tells them I asked him for a date and he turned me down, Iâll just die of embarrassment.â
âMaybe he wonât.â
And maybe, Emily thought, already tossing her chefâs apron aside, there was only one way she could stop this. She hoped it wasnât too late. âAre you okay here?â
Simone nodded, her expression as resolute as Emilyâsmood. âIâll handle this. You go do damage control. And from the looks of it,â Simone said softly, as the menâs faces grew serious, âyou better hurry.â
Â
âS O WHATâS GOING ON with you and my sister?â Holden McCabe asked.
Didnât Emilyâs brothers ever lighten up? Dylan wondered, resenting the polite chitchat that was fast turning into a McCabe family inquisition.
Dylan folded his arms in front of him. âI make it a policy never to discuss my personal affairs.â Not that there was anything to report.
Hank McCabe paused. He exchanged confused looks with his brother, then turned back to Dylan. âSo the two of you are dating?â he asked finally.
Dylan was still contemplating how best to respond when Emily rushed up, looking gorgeous, flushed and a bit disheveled. Not that he was noticing the way the sunshine-yellow sundress hugged her slender waist and feminine curves. Or how sexy her legs looked when not encased in the usual jeans.
âHoldenâ¦Hank, for heavenâs sake!â she scolded.
Predictably, her ridiculously overprotective brothers refused to back down.
âWhatâs the problem?â Hank asked.
Holden added innocently, âWeâre just talking to your âdateâ here.â
Emily swirled around in a drift of jonquil perfume he found amazingly enticing. She shot Dylan a beseeching glance that only he could see. Her soft-as-silk hand curved possessively around his biceps, compelling him to remain silent.
Curious as to how she was going to get herself out of this mess, he merely smiled.
The panicked look in her blue eyes fading, Emily releasedher grip on him and turned back to her brothers. â Dating is for teenagers, guys.â
More skeptical glances. âWhat does that mean?â Holden demanded.
âIt means she doesnât like to put a label on things any