Run To Me: Spruce Pine, #1

By Leslie Ray

Sometimes, home is exactly where the heart is…

 

The one thing Emerson Grey never imagined for her life was clambering back to her hometown, her tail tucked tight between her legs. Trading the big city lights for her quiet, mountainous town of Spruce Pine, North Carolina, Emerson is desperate to outrun the disaster of her recent broken engagement. But when running lands her against the steel chest of the mysterious new guy in town, Emerson finds herself desperate for an entirely different kind of escape. A six-two statue of pure testosterone kind. And why not, she's only in town for two weeks…

 

Preston White never pictured himself as a small-town guy, but running mountain roads with picturesque views beats pounding the treadmill any day. It also beats facing the dark past lingering in his dreams. But the one thing Preston hadn't bet on was a fiery redhead blowing through this small town. From the moment her soft hands pressed against his chest, Preston felt the odd thump against his ribs that went silent the day his wife died…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leslie Ray
• Release date: Sep 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9798201733049

Leslie Ray

Hi! If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m Leslie Ray, a small-town contemporary romance author. Born and raised in the South, I center my stories around all the wonderful memories of growing up in a small town in the southeast. When I’m not writing, you can find me hanging out with my homesteading husband, our two daughters (who mostly love each other), and our array of animals. When I’ve had enough of the sibling rivalry or the husband’s canning, gardening, and chicken plucking, I love to mow. I can do amazing plotting spending hours on a mower. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

Twenty-four hours ago , Emerson Grey would have bet her soul she’d known precisely where her life was headed. It’s just too bad that wager would have cost her an eternity of hot yoga with the devil, because the only place her life was headed now, was straight to hell.

Standing on the top step of the old yellow farm house, she stared at the wooden door painted in the purest white, and felt the panic swell in her chest.

Oh God, she’d done it. She’d come home.

Barring the occasional holiday, Emerson had spent the better part of the last decade avoiding her rural, mountainous hometown, but now she was here. Back in Spruce Pine. Back in North Carolina for the foreseeable future.

Emerson? Turning, she took in the sight of her only sister, clad in a fitted black skirt, and cream blouse.

Stand them side by side in a mirror and you wouldn’t have thought they were sisters. For starters, Emerson was taller. At five-eight, she had a good four inches on her sister, but it was her wavy red hair and emerald eyes that really set her apart. Millicent Grey was the picture of pure beauty with her straight pale blonde hair and baby blues.

Of course, their differences hadn’t stopped at physical traits. Their personalities had been at odds for most of Emerson’s life.

A swirl of blonde moved past her, heading for the door. What are you doing here?

I, ah— I chose the lesser of two evils, Emerson finished the thought to herself. I’m here for the wedding.  

Like every Saturday, from March to October, Ridge Haven—one of the most sought out wedding venues in the southeast—buzzed with activity, and it was all due to her sister’s success. Nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains, a few miles outside of their hometown, Ridge Haven’s wide expanse held some of the most picturesque views. Sprawling green lawns surrounded by endless rows of Frazier Firs, pristine ponds, and its most charming beauty, the enormous red barn that had been converted into one gorgeous reception hall.

And it all belonged to her sister.

Unlike Emerson, her sister had been infatuated with the idea of fairy tale weddings since she was old enough to walk. After college, Millie had come home to the family Christmas tree farm, and sweet-talked her way into this twenty-five-acre plot of land.

Seven months later, Ridge Haven was born. The yellow farm house, which had originally belonged to their grandparents, had been renovated, and now served as Ridge Haven’s command central. And true to the hard-working nature of the Grey’s, it was a thriving success.

Opening the front door, Millie didn’t bother to stop, or even glance over her shoulder, as she started her interrogation. I thought you weren’t coming?

The open doorway was the only invitation Emerson was going to get. Following her sister down the wide hallway, Emerson did her best to keep up. For someone with short legs, her sister moved quick.

My plans changed. And wasn’t that the understatement of the year. In a mere twenty-four hours, Emerson’s life had gone from thriving to crumpling. Driving her with a need to be as far away as possible from the disaster, but maybe the seven-hundred miles wasn’t far enough. Can I help with anything?

The five simple words would have felt normal had she spoken them to anyone else on the planet, but given they were directed at Millie, they earned her guarded look. No matter what Emerson may have hoped for, this wasn’t going to be easy. The decade long feud between the Grey sisters had never been much of a secret, but Emerson had bigger problems now. Problems she wasn’t ready to share. Problems that made her realize it was half-past time she made amends with her sister.

After all, Millie was the only sister she had.

Why? Millie halted her steps just inside her office door. You’ve never helped out, why now?

Before her mouth could open to respond, Millie’s eyes shifted with a hard edge at the exact moment Emerson felt two strong hands grasp her hips. Well, if it isn’t my long-lost Annie. I thought that was you walking in.

Emerson’s heart squeezed with joy at the old nickname. Spinning in his palms, she softened as a genuine smile spread across her childhood best friend’s face.

Cooper! she squealed in delight.

It was the first time in a very long day her smile felt authentic.

Once upon a long time ago, she’d accidentally shot Cooper Whitley in the backside with his own BB-gun. It’d been an accident, of course, but when she hadn’t backed down from his angry rant, Cooper had decided she was tougher than all the other boys their age, warranting her suitable for friendship. He’d nicknamed her Annie, after Annie Oakley, and they’d become inseparable.

Cooper Whitley, you know guests are not allowed back here, so scram! Millie scolded.

Anyone who knew her sister, knew Millie hated guests seeing what happened behind the scenes. The only thing she wanted her guests to see was the pristine product of her hard work. To be honest, it was the only way she wanted anyone to see any part of her life. Polished and completely put together.

There was also the small matter that Millie was not Cooper’s biggest fan. Emerson wasn’t sure if it was jealousy over their friendship or something else, but Millie had always kept a sour spot in her heart for Cooper.

Making a shooing motion with her hands, Millie took a few steps toward them. Emerson’s busy, so time for you to go.

But I just got here and I’m not a real guest. Cooper’s thick, deep voice whined in mock displeasure, as he batted his caramel eyes, which were futile where Millie was concerned. Pa...pa...please let me stay?

Letting out a heavy, annoyed sigh, Millie poked him in the chest, Today you are a guest, and a groomsman at that. You have two minutes. Do you hear me? Two. Minutes. With a flurry of blonde, she was gone.

Thanks for the save. I owe you. Emerson placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and hugged him tight.

Pulling back, Cooper tilted his head slightly, as though he were assessing her. What are you doing here, Annie? I thought you were going to Palm Springs?  

Right, Palm Springs.

She was supposed to be on a flight from the Big Apple to sunny California as they spoke, but after the unmentionable past twenty-four hours, she’d traded in her ticket and headed south instead.

What can I say? She shrugged, searching for an explanation. Palm Springs was postponed and since my schedule was clear, I decided I couldn’t miss Spruce Pine’s wedding of the year.

Her schedule had opened up alright, like a giant black hole trying to suck her down to some deep dark place, never to return.

I thought your wedding was going to be the wedding of the year? Cooper tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and winked.

Right, her wedding. Another casualty of the past twenty-four hours she wasn’t ready to talk about. Well, I’m not the mayor’s daughter. Emerson smiled, but the light didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Rayna Whitley, today’s guest of honor, however, was the mayor’s daughter, as well as, Cooper’s kid sister.

You okay?

I’m great, she lied. Never been better.

Cooper paused long enough she was certain he was going to call her on her BS, but he didn’t press. To which, she was eternally grateful. She needed time. Time to process the events she still couldn’t believe had happened. Time to determine what she was going to do next. And maybe with enough time, wake up from this unbelievable nightmare.

Except, she wasn’t going to wake up. There was no dream to render herself from. Only the reality and gravity that her life was irrevocably changed.

Your two minutes are up. Now out, Coop! Millie scolded as she reentered the room.

Leaning in, Cooper placed a soft kiss against her forehead. We’ll talk later.

With a sigh, Emerson watched him slip out the backdoor. That’s what I’m afraid of.

AFTER A FEW SPECULATIVE glances from her sister, Emerson fell into place, helping the staff finish the last-minute details. As the ceremony started, avoiding contact with her sister became far easier. While Millie observed the event taking place out on the lawn, by one of the ponds, Emerson stuck to the reception hall, helping wherever she was needed. Keeping their distance made keeping the peace simpler for everyone involved.  

From the outside, the barn appeared to be like any other barn. Bright red clap boards trimmed in white. Just your run-of-the-mill, everyday barn. But stepping inside, guests were transported to a world of elegance. The high polished floors, the twinkling of lights, and mini master pieces adorning the center of every table were a thing of sheer grace. It was no wonder Ridge Haven had been named one of Bridal Magazine’s Top Twenty Venues.

Through the small window in the door that led to the kitchen, Emerson watched in amazement as dinner was served like a well-choreographed ballet. Staff glided their way through the sea of tables, balancing trays as though they were carrying nothing more than a down pillow. After half a dozen toasts, the happy couple cut the cake, and the band began to play. In no time, the dance floor was in full swing.

Wiping her hands dry, Emerson tossed the towel on the counter, and polished off a glass of wine. She could use another glass—hell, make it a bottle—but getting tipsy at a Ridge Haven event wouldn’t mend any fences with her sister.

Slipping through the swinging door, Emerson entered the reception area just in time to see the bride and groom swaying to a soft ballad. Locked in each other’s gaze, bliss curved their lips into bright smiles. She had to admit, they were adorable together, even if she wanted to snub her nose at the whole institution of love. After all, it wasn’t their fault her life was floating down the river without her.

No, that honor went to the one and only scumbag, ex-fiancé, Michael Reitner.

Moving through the crowd toward the steps leading up to the second-floor catwalk, Emerson glanced down at her dress, and swiped her hands across the fabric to make sure she wasn’t a complete mess. The last thing she needed was to be wearing scraps from the kitchen.

And then it hit her.

More like, she hit him.

The brick wall she’d collided with was the most gorgeous specimen of pure male she’d ever laid eyes on. His short, sandy blonde hair was tousled like a lazy Sunday morning, while a light stubble covered his strong jawline.

And then he spoke.

Hello there. With two simple words, his smooth, sultry voice nearly melted her into a puddle.

Chapter 2

Emerson stood motionless , her palms resting against his hard chest. Oh, God! I’m so sorry.

With a quick jerk, she drew back, removing her hands from where they’d landed to break her fall. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her words came out in a gasp.

The slow crimson burn—one she could never outrun—blossomed across her chest, and snaked its way up her neck. It was bad enough red heads fried after ten minutes in the sun, but having every emotion play out across her skin was just cruel and unusual punishment. She tried to fight the embarrassment crawling across her skin, but it was no use. She was glowing like a vine-ripened tomato.

Dropping her gaze, Emerson’s eyes locked on his empty glass and the dark stain spreading across his stark white shirt. Your drink!

Quite the tragedy. The stranger’s lips tipped up in a sinister smile.

Come with me.

Clasping her hand around his forearm, Emerson tugged the man back through the swinging door, and into the prep kitchen. Grabbing the towel she’d discarded on the counter a few moments earlier, Emerson blotted the stain to no avail. Based on the color, she’d guess it was a rum and coke. It was too light and lacked the deep red hues for wine. Either way, she was going to need more than a dirty hand towel to fix her mess. Take your shirt off. I need to put something on the stain before it sets.

As you wish. Two crystal blue eyes stared into the depths of her soul as his shoulders rolled back, and slipped out of his suit jacket.

Mesmerized by his slow, fluid movements, Emerson watched as his fingers clasped the red silk tie, and slipped it from around his neck, before tossing it on the counter. Without missing a beat, his fingers moved to the front of his shirt, and began pressing the round plastic through the holes, one tiny button at a time. 

She meant to move, but then his muscles began to flex and release as he worked the soft fabric off his shoulders, and down his arms. Her eyes followed the trail of exposed skin across his taunt shoulders, and landed on the expansive real estate that was his chest. Blessed be, she could practically count every ripple tucked beneath the cotton men’s tank barely containing all his glory.

"Ahem, he cleared his throat. I believe you wanted this."

Emerson shifted her gaze to the stained shirt hanging on his fingers. Of course, I want you. Your shirt! I mean, I want your shirt. To get the stain out.

Turning quickly toward the cabinets, she tucked her tongue back in her mouth before she could trip on it, and started her search. Cabinet after cabinet, she rifled for anything she could use. A nice Tide wipe would be handy right about now, but it didn’t seem Millie kept those in stock. She’d almost given up hope, when she spotted the unopened bottle of club soda in the last door.

This should do. Emerson held up the bottle as she turned back toward her victim, and froze.

Across the room, the live cover of GQ was leaning against the counter, his palms resting on the edge, with one foot crossed over the other. Tall, tanned, and handsome he looked like he’d just stepped out of the September issue.

So, you’re going to get me all fixed up? He tilted his head just the slightest.

Unsure of her control, Emerson approached with caution, as though he were a Viper waiting to strike. It won’t remove the stain, but it should keep it from setting. You’ll want to wash it right away.

Stepping in close, Emerson dropped the shirt in the sink beside him, and opened the bottle. She tried to force her focus on the work at hand, but she couldn’t help noticing how even in heels, she had to look up to meet his eyes. A bonus for a woman who was five-eight flat-footed. He had to be at least six-two.

You are not here to find a rebound guy. The little reminder seemed futile against the man standing next to her.

Where’d you learn this trick? His voice trickled over her shoulder.

Lifting her head, she realized all too late that he’d shifted his stance, and was now facing her full-on. I umm, I really don’t remember.

She could barely remember her damn name at the moment, much less where she’d learn to care for clothing. Aside from losing her mind, it seemed she’d lost control of her jaw too, because it suddenly went lax. She’d never drooled over a man in her life, but there was always room for firsts.

I’m really sorry about the drink. She smiled apologetically, dabbing the stained area.  

No worries. Can I tell you a secret? His warm breath caressed the exposed curve of her neck.

A shiver tingled its way down her arms. If his secret had anything to do with him lifting her onto the counter and kissing her until the sun came up, she was definitely interest. Trying her best to sound indifferent, Emerson shrugged, Sure.

God, had she ever been this affected by a man?

I was looking for an excuse to get out of here and you’re my ticket. He winked one of those beautiful blue eyes, and she nearly fainted at the innuendo.

Tucking her left hand beneath the fabric, she spun the meaningless diamond around on her finger. She’d debated taking it off a million times on her flight, but at the time, she hadn’t been ready to admit her engagement was over. Nor was she ready to announce it to the world.

Now, standing so close to Mr. September, all she wanted to do was chunk the damn thing into the North Toe River.

You don’t like weddings? She asked, trying to distract herself from his proximity.

I like beautiful women at weddings.

She would have sworn his body leaned closer, but her brain was too busy melting into a pool of lust to be sure. After the last twenty-four hours, maybe blowing off some steam with a gorgeous stranger was just what she needed. It definitely couldn’t hurt. Honestly, at this point, it wasn’t any crazier than the rest of her disastrous life.

Before Emerson could give in to the temptation, the kitchen door swung open, and her sister appeared. Millie stopped dead in her tracks, her icy glare running over the shirtless wonder standing next to her supposedly engaged sister. Emerson? Is everything okay?

Hey, Sis! Everything’s great. I was just helping one of our guests get a stain out of his shirt, and we’re all set. Lifting the garment from the sink, Emerson thrust the shirt in his direction.

She’d almost convinced herself she was reading too much into his comments when she felt his palm rest against the curve of her lower back. Electricity lit her up like the Fourth of July.  

Thank you, Emerson. Taking the shirt, he let his hand graze across the small of her back as he stepped away.

Folding the shirt, her perfect stranger slipped his coat over his cotton tank and grabbed his tie. I appreciate the hospitality. You ladies have a lovely evening.

And then he was gone.

What the hell was that? Millie gestured to the door as it swung to a close. "And who the hell was he?"

Emerson didn’t miss the emphasis on the who. Her sister may have given Mr. September one of her signature ice-cold stares, but she hadn’t escaped his radiating heat. "I don’t have a clue on the who, but the what is one gorgeous specimen of the male species."

Says the engaged woman?

Right, for the moment she was still the doe-eyed bride-to-be. Sooner or later, she was going to have to break the news to her family, but in the middle of someone else’s wedding hardly felt like the right time.

Hey, I can’t help I have eyes. And apparently, neither can you. Emerson arched a brow, daring her sister to disagree.

Yes, well, I am not the one sporting a rock on my finger. I can look all I want. The hard edge slipped from Millie’s tone as she continued. So, what were you doing in here with the gorgeous specimen anyway?

The ever-present blush began its march back up Emerson’s neck. I ran into him, as in the literal kind.

Millie laughed, "What do you mean you ran into him? Like ran, ran into him?"

"Yes, like ran ran into him. You know, the kind where I made him spill his drink down the front of his shirt. I brought him in here so I could put club soda on the stain and then you walked in. End of story."

Laughing harder, a small snort escaped Millie’s lips. I’ll have to remember that trick next time there’s a super sex guest.

Hope blossomed in Emerson’s chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her sister truly laugh, especially when Emerson was involved. Most of their interactions were centered around one of them being completely annoyed with the other. Even if the laughter was at her own expense, the moment felt like a huge step in the right direction.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Emerson stood on the second-floor catwalk with a glass of wine, watching the crowd beneath. Prior to her glorious mishap, she’d been headed up here to get a moment to herself. Now, she found herself watching the crowd below for a very different reason.

Unfortunately, however, it seemed Mr. GQ hadn’t been lying when he said he was looking for an excuse to leave. She’d searched the crowd several times, but her mysterious stranger was nowhere in sight.

Giving up her search, Emerson took a sip of her wine and let her thoughts drift. The last thing she needed was another man added to her emotional wreckage, but for the few minutes they’d been alone, she’d felt more alive than she had in months.

Once upon a time, she’d felt that way with Michael, but lately, things had been less than exhilarating. She hadn’t thought much about it at the time. They’d been together for eight years, they were both climbing the professional ladder in the most competitive city in the country, a little dry spell didn’t seem like a big deal. They were just comfortable.

Quite the show, huh? Cooper’s familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

Emerson glanced over her shoulder at her best friend. That it is. Rayna looks stunning, as usual. And your mom, she’s absolutely glowing. I am sure she is already dreaming up grandkids.

Mom’s pretty sure Rayna’s her only hope since I have no plans to settle down. Cooper leaned on the railing beside her.

You might be smarter than the rest of us there.   

What’s that? Did you just say I was smarter than you? Are you feeling okay? He laughed, nudging her with his elbow.

Oh stop, there’s a first time for everything. 

So, what exactly is it that makes me smarter? I want to hear more about that. Lounging against the railing, he flashed a wicked smile. 

The not settling down part. Maybe it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Emerson felt the weight of the world settle back on her shoulders.

How much have you had to drink? Cooper straightened from the railing.

Not nearly enough.

She was fighting the tears back for all she was worth when she felt Cooper wrap his arms around her, pulling her into his chest.

What’s going on, Annie? His voice was soft but serious. 

Don’t mind me. She tried to wave him off, but a damn tear escaped, rolling its way down her cheek. Cooper hadn’t missed it, his thumb swiping the hot streak.

"Please tell me this is just some girls get emotional at weddings kind of thing? She could hear the worry, even as he tried to play it cool. Although I have to tell you, I’m pretty sure you have it all backward. Aren’t you supposed to get all gushy and romantic, you know like that crap in Cosmo?"

"What the hell do