She was infuriating! Riker paced back and forth across the terrace. The nerve of that woman, thinking she knew what was best for him and his family. He wondered what Starr would do if he left right now and made her find her own way back to the rodeo grounds. That would teach her to butt into his business. Even as the thought entered his mind, he knew he couldn’t do it. Starr had some strange hold over him. That kiss had been like getting a taste of heaven. Then his dad came up and ruined it. He scowled, wanting to punch something. He should’ve known better than to bring Starr here.

Riker stomped down the steps and got on his bike, shoving the helmet over his head. What was it about Starr that he found so fascinating? Was it the determined look on her face when she was barrel racing? Maybe it reminded him of his mom. No, while he admired her competitiveness, he’d been taken with her before the race. Maybe it was because she socked him in the gut. He grinned, thinking about it. Talk about spirit! Yes, he definitely liked that about Starr. Even when it got him in sticky situations.

He started the bike and drove up to the house. Light from the windows spilled like a beacon across the yard. Although the sight was cheerful it did little to ease his nerves, which were jumping like an offside lineman before the ball was snapped. He removed the helmet, blowing out a long breath. The plan was to go into the house, stay a few minutes, get Starr, and get the heck out of Dodge. He opened the front door and stepped into the foyer. A feeling of nostalgia swept over him as he breathed in the familiar scent of home. He could imagine his mother’s boisterous laughter, her larger-than-life smile, her zest for life and how proud she was of her children. Riker only wished that she’d lived long enough to see him sign a contract with the Titans. His eyes went moist, the pang in his heart heavy. He blinked to clear the emotion as he walked through the living room and into the kitchen where everyone was.

Gavin, the fourteen-year-old, was the first to see him. He sprang out of his chair, a large smile filling his thin, angular face as he rushed over and gave Riker a tight hug. “I’m glad you came home,” he exclaimed.

Riker ruffled his hair. “Great to see you, Bro.” Emotion lodged thick in his throat. He’d forgotten how much he missed his family.

When Gavin pulled back, Riker was surprised to note that he was about an inch shy of his own height. “What the heck? You’ve grown a foot since I’ve seen you.”

“Yep, I’ll be taller than you before long,” he said proudly.

His jaw dropped when he saw the flash of metal. “When did you get braces?”

“A couple of months ago.” He frowned. “The blasted things are really uncomfortable. Especially when I have to wear the rubber bands.”

Riker looked past Gavin to Michael who was sitting at the table, watching him with a brooding expression. At seventeen, Michael was a cool cat. He was the star quarterback at Silver Creek High and enjoyed all the fame that went with it. When their eyes met, Michael gave him a surly nod. He was obviously mad at Riker for being MIA for so long.

His dad and Marley were sitting near Starr, chatting her up. When Starr saw him, she flashed him a relieved smile like she was glad he decided to join them.

“Come and grab some cobbler,” his dad said.

Marley stood, her round face creasing into a welcoming smile. “I’ll fix you a bowl.”

“I can make it myself,” Riker protested, not wanting to be beholden to Marley for a single thing. A good ten years younger than his dad, Marley was a pretty brunette with dark eyes and a wide smile. Back when she was the librarian at Silver Creek High, Riker thought she was a nice lady, always pleasant and helpful. As far as manners went, Marley was still sweeter than molasses, but that didn’t mean she was a good person. After all, no good person would agree to marry a man whose wife had only been gone four months.

Riker went to grab a bowl, but Marley took it out of his hand, flashing a jittery smile. “You just sit down by Starr, and I’ll take care of the cobbler,” she insisted.

Not having a choice, he sat down.

His dad leaned back in his seat. “Starr was just telling us how the two of you met,” he said, laughter in his eyes.

Gavin hooted. “I can’t believe you threw food all over her … all for a stupid ball.”

Unlike Riker and Michael who lived for football, Gavin was more into steer roping and tie down.

“A real player would’ve been able to hold onto the food and catch the ball,” Michael said dryly, rolling his eyes.

The comment broadsided him like a bone-jarring tackle as he looked at Michael in surprise. “Is that right, little brother?”

Michael looked him in the eye, ready for a fight. “Yep.”

Riker saw the apprehensive expression on his dad’s face—knew he didn’t want an argument between the brothers at the table. Even so, he was about to lay into Michael when Starr laughed lightly and put a hand on his arm.

“In Riker’s defense, he wasn’t expecting the boy to throw the ball.” She grinned. “Even so, I was ticked. I had on a white shirt and was running to the restroom just before the race.”

Marley shook her head, laughing. “That’s terrible.” She placed the cobbler and ice cream in front of Riker before sitting beside his dad and draping an arm around his shoulders. The casual display of affection churned Riker’s stomach.

“What happened next?” Gavin wanted to know, leaning forward like he was hanging on every word.

Riker took a bite of cobbler. The fact that it was delicious only added to his displeasure. In addition to her other qualities, Marley was an amazing cook. Why was he not surprised?

“I did the only thing a self-respecting girl could do,” Starr said, looking around the room, her eyes sparkling. “I socked him in the gut.”

The room exploded in laughter. Even Riker couldn’t help but smile.

Gavin pulled a face. “Seriously? You punched him?”

Starr laughed. “Yep, sure did.”

Riker rubbed his stomach. “She certainly didn’t hold anything back, I can tell you that.”

“Good for her,” Michael muttered quietly.

The hair on Riker’s neck stood as he glared at Michael. He’d let the first jab slide, but enough was enough. “Is there something you wanna say to me, little brother?”

“Not a dang thing,” Michael said with a snarky smile.

“That’s enough,” James warned, looking back and forth between Riker and Michael.

A frigid silence descended over the room.

Riker took another bite of cobbler, not tasting a thing.

“This is really delicious,” Starr said, taking a bite of her cobbler.

Marley gave her a strained smile. “Thanks.”

“Starr, where are you from?” James asked.

“I live outside of Ft. Worth.”

James nodded. “How long have you been barrel racing?”

“A little over five years.”

As the conversation drifted to barrel racing, Riker looked around the combination kitchen and living room. The decorating was different. New leather sectional, different pictures on the wall. Where was his mother’s Monet print? His blood boiled when he looked at built-in bookshelves on both sides of the flat screen television. There were two bronze sculptures and a basket of silk flowers where his mother’s trophies had been.

He turned to his dad, interrupting the conversation. “Where are Mom’s trophies?”

Marley’s face turned beet red and his dad flinched like he’d been slapped.

Riker didn’t try to hide the accusation in his tone. “What did you do with them?”

“They’re in my study,” James said, his voice calm.

It was disgusting how they could sit here like one big happy family. “Why did you move them from the bookshelves?” Riker knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. It wasn’t okay for them to just forget about his mom.

The words rushed out of Marley’s mouth as she offered an apologetic smile. “It’s my fault, I wanted to do a little redecorating.”

James put a hand on her arm. “You don’t have to apologize. This is your home too. You have a right to decorate it how you please.” He shot Riker a blistering look. “You’re way out of line, son.”

Riker could hardly believe what he was hearing. “I’m out of line? Seriously? I’m not the one who rushed out and married the first woman I saw.”

He heard Starr’s quick intake of breath. Saw the stunned expressions from around the table. Marley’s lower lip jiggled, tears brimming in her eyes. His dad’s face was tight with controlled fury. “That was uncalled for.”

“Why do you care about Mom’s trophies?” Michael piped in. “You’re never here to see them anyway.”

“Watch your mouth,” Riker warned.

Michael’s eyes blazed as he jumped up. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t?”

Riker also stood, blood thrashing against his temples. “Try me and you’ll find out,” he said through clenched teeth.

Michael’s voice went screechy as he choked down a sob. “You’re a lousy excuse for a brother. I wish you would’ve just stayed away.” He ran out of the room.

There was a look of weary disappointment on his dad’s face. “The one time you come home, and you have to stir up trouble.”

A brittle laugh broke through Riker’s throat. “That’s right. Blame me for everything.” He looked at Gavin whose face was pinched, tears brimming in his eyes. Even Starr was frowning in disapproval. They all thought he was a jerk. So much for making a good impression on Starr. “You know what? This was a mistake.” He looked at Starr. “I’ll be outside on my bike,” he barked as he stormed out of the kitchen.

Myriad emotions jumbled through Emerson’s mind as they rode back to the rodeo grounds. She could feel the animosity radiating off Riker’s tense body. No doubt he acted like a moron at his family’s house, but she felt somewhat responsible. Had she not insisted that Riker have cobbler with his family, the fiasco wouldn’t have taken place. What did she expect? That with one conversation the whole thing would be miraculously resolved? Riker had told her how he felt about his father marrying Marley, but she didn’t realize the depth of his anger.

The parking lot was empty except for her BMW. Riker pulled beside it and turned off the engine. She slid off the bike and handed him the helmet. Was this goodbye? The last time she’d ever see Riker Dylan? Her heart clutched. No, it couldn’t be. Things were clicking so well between them. That kiss had been incredible. His features were rigid, making his jaw look like it was carved from stone.

“Thanks,” she said flatly, searching his face for some sort of signal to let her know he was relenting.

He nodded.

She turned to go to her car, then stopped, a swift anger overtaking her. She whirled back around. “You know what? You can be a real jerk sometimes.”

He rocked back. “Excuse me?”

She stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “You heard me. You didn’t have to go on the rampage about the trophies.”

He chuckled in disbelief. “You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Can’t you see that your dad and Marley care about you?”

“Yeah, that’s obvious,” he said sarcastically.

“And Michael and Gavin.” Moisture rose in her eyes. “They need you. If you’d quit being so selfish and look outside yourself for one second, you’d realize—”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I should realize,” he roared. “I told you I didn’t want to step foot in that house, but you didn’t listen.” He glared at her. “This whole thing is your fault.”

“Yes, you’re right,” she flung back. “I shouldn’t have strong-armed you into having the cobbler. I’m sorry.”

He rocked back. “What?”

“You heard me,” she growled. “I take ownership for my mistake.” She lifted her chin. “But that doesn’t in any way excuse your rotten behavior. Goodbye, Riker, and good riddance.”

She turned to leave, but stopped short when she heard his bark of laughter.

Fury burned through her as she spun around. “What’s so funny?” Her hand went into the air. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She went to her car.

“Wait!” He put down the kickstand and hopped off the bike, putting the helmet on the seat. In two steps, he was by her side.

“Why were you laughing?”

“Because, I couldn’t believe how things could get so tense between us after just one night. One minute you’re slugging me, a while later we’re kissing, and now you’re chewing me out.” A quirky smile tugged at his lips. “Personally, I liked the kissing the best.” He slid his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry for being a jerk.”

As she looked at his apologetic expression, she couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, you are sorry. I’m sorry for butting into your business.”

“So, are we friends again?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

He laughed. “So much more than friends.” Intensity darkened his eyes. “I wanna see you again,” he murmured, leaning in and nipping her earlobe. Tingles danced down her spine. “Is that possible?” he whispered in her ear.

“Maybe.”

His lips moved down her neck, planting a string of light kisses. Then he drew back, searching her face. “Will you go out with me tomorrow evening?”

“Sorry, I can’t.”

Disappointment registered in his eyes.

“I have a previous commitment.” Unfortunately, that commitment involved dinner with her parents, her brother Graham, and his family. She was tempted to skip it, but knew if she did, her mama would go on the rampage—especially after she’d ditched the barbecue. The last thing she wanted right now was for her mama to get suspicious. “I’m free on Sunday.”

He brightened. “I can do Sunday. What would you like to do? Go on a picnic?”

“That sounds fun.” She hesitated.

“What?”

“Before you came into the house tonight, your dad and Marley asked if we would attend church with them this Sunday.” She winced when his face scrunched.

“What?” he blustered.

Emerson didn’t want to get into another argument. “I told them I’d talk to you. We don’t have to …”

He let out a long sigh. “It never ends with them.” He surveyed her. “Do you want to go to church with them?”

“Yeah, I’d like that, actually.” Her family hadn’t gone to church together in years. Hope sprang in her breast when she realized Riker was considering it. At the beginning, before things had turned sour, Emerson really enjoyed talking to Riker’s family. The easy conversation and immediate acceptance of the down-to-earth family was a breath of fresh air compared to what she was used to.

He sighed in resignation. “Okay, for you, I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Yep, but only church. I don’t want to go there for lunch.”

“It’s a deal. We can go to church and have a picnic afterwards.”

“I like the way you think.” He leaned closer, his eyes going to her lips, sending thrills of anticipation over her. “Now for more pressing matters,” he said softly, his lips taking hers in a long, breathless kiss.

As Riker watched Starr drive away, he marveled at the turn this night had taken. He knew so little about her background and history, and yet, he felt like he knew her—a souls connecting kind of thing. He chuckled. Maybe that was wishful thinking. All he knew was that she’d just left and he already missed her. Sunday couldn’t come soon enough. They’d exchanged numbers. He’d text her tomorrow, letting her know how much he’d enjoyed tonight, notwithstanding the incident at his dad’s house.

His phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket. It was a text from Trisha. How did the evening go? Did you get that kiss?

He texted back. No dice.

It was poor form to kiss and tell. He regretted making the wager with Trisha, not wanting anything to cheapen his relationship with Starr.

Trisha responded. Poor, baby. Let’s meet tonight at Skinny Steves for fries. You can tell me all about it.

No way was he telling Trisha anything about Starr, but he wanted to let Trisha down easily. I’ll have to take a raincheck. I’m headed home to get some rest.

How about tomorrow?

Ugh! He didn’t want to hurt Trisha, but he also didn’t want to give her false hope. Sorry. No can do.

Sunday then?

Trisha wasn’t giving up. Her persistence was kind of irritating. Won’t work for me either. I’ll catch you later.

She didn’t respond back. Riker figured she was ticked, but that was okay. Sooner or later, Trisha would have to realize that friends was all they’d ever be. He grinned thinking how he’d told Starr they were so much more than friends. Funny how he’d known Trisha for years and had waffled back and forth, trying to decide if he wanted to date her again. He’d only known Starr for a few hours and yet he was sure to the bone—he wanted her in his life. And it had nothing to do with mere friendship.

He put on his helmet, started his engine, and headed for home, whistling as he went.