We turned onto the road leading to Carson's Ranch and Farm and my jaw practically hit the dashboard.
It wasn't a street; it was a welcome committee. A rather large one and they were waiting.
About two dozen people were clustered on the sidewalk outside a charming house, their heads turning in unison as Carson's car—well, my ridiculously expensive car—rolled into view.
Most of them were women. Young, pretty women, who looked at us— well, me with the unified disappointment of a choir that had just been told the show was canceled.
Carson stopped the car midway. His hands tightened on the wheel.
I saw his eyes dart around, and for a thrilling second, I thought he was going to throw the car in reverse and make a run for it.
He did exactly that.
With a quiet, "Nope," he reversed, turned down a side alley, and drove us right out of there.
"Running from your fan club, Mr. Gibbs?" I teased him.
"Preserving our sanity" he corrected, but he was smiling.
He drove me on a tour of the town instead, and it was like stepping into one of my books. Quaint little shops, towering old trees whose leaves formed a green tunnel over the road, and beautiful sidewalks.
He parked by a sparkling river and bought us ice cream cones from a little stand. As we walked along the water, he grew quiet.
I didn't say anything. I realized it must be hitting him right about now that the decision to bring me here, to bring me home was a bad one.
"I have an aunt in Normal, Illinois. I bet she wouldn't mind me staying with her for a couple of days while I sort myself out and I could go to my maternal grandparents in Spokane. We haven't spoken in years but I bet they would be thrilled to have me—"
It was a lie. I had no aunt in Illinois and my maternal grandparents died when I was five.
"Don't be ridiculous" He said, stopping to smear ice cream on my nose. "Who's going to bring the drama if you move to Illinois or Spokane, Sweet wife?"
"Carson, I don't want to ruin your life anymore than I already have. And don't worry, as soon as my inheritance comes in, I will pay for Liliana's hospital —"
"That's enough" He said firmly now. "Must everything be transactional with you? Can't we just let things be"
Transactional. It offended him a lot, I understand it's because he was a proud man and a good person but money... paying him money was the only reason that made sense for why he was turning his life upside down to help me.
People generally don't go out of their way to help me.
I wonder if he understood that trying to pay him wasn't a dig at him. It was more about me feeling unworthy of his kindness than being a bitch who was used to paying her way through life.
"Fine. I will stay" I spared him a smile. "But fair warning, Willows Creek is about to get a whole lot interesting with me here. I always bring the Drama, darling!"
He laughed. "Wouldn't have it any other way"
We walked in silence for a while before he spoke again.
"We need to talk about the girls," he said, his voice soft. "This is new territory for me. I'd rather we keep our… arrangement… private from them. And from the rest of the town. They don't need to know the details. We were already selling the fake love in New York. Maybe we should do the same here."
My heart did a little flip. Yes. Yes, please.
Anything that meant he'd have to be closer to me. Anything that might lead to another one of those world-stopping kisses, the kind that proved I wasn't the "dead fish" Preston had told the world I was.
"I agree," I said, maybe a little too quickly.
He looked at me, his hazel eyes searching my face. "Any objections? Any questions?"
And then my mouth, completely without my brain's permission, blurted out: "Will there be kissing involved?"
He blinked. Twice. I could see I'd thrown him completely off balance.
"There might be," he said carefully. "The occasional… light kiss. When necessary."
"What about heavy kissing?" I pressed, my courage fueled by the sugar and the river air. "Like the one you gave me in front of the cameras?"
He just looked at me. He opened his mouth to answer, but was saved by the bell. Or, more accurately, by his phone buzzing loudly in his pocket. The relief on his face was so obvious it was almost funny.
"It's getting late," he said, checking the screen. "We should probably head home."
On the drive back, I spotted a small toy shop. "One second!" I hopped out, clutching the few coins I had left from Lark's wallet. I came back a few minutes later with a small, rustling bag.
"What's that?" Carson asked.
"A surprise. I've got to make a good impression on the mini Gibbses, don't I?"
He laughed "Mini Gibbses. Good one. Good luck."
Thankfully, the crowd had dispersed when we pulled up to his house.
It was a beautiful, slightly worn-looking two-story home with a big porch. The only person waiting for us was a woman sitting on the porch steps.
I didn't expect her to be so young. Or so pretty.
Carson got out and gave her a warm hug.
"Carrie."
I felt a weird, sharp twist in my chest watching how familiar they were. I pushed it down. He was just being neighborly.
"This is Carrie Kent, our lifesaver and the girls' babysitter," Carson said.
I extended my hand, putting on my best Vanderbilt-smile. "Hi. I'm Emilia,Carson's wife."
Carrie's smile was frosty at best. Those amber eyes disliked me instantly. "I know."
She turned back to Carson, completely dismissing me like a bad sushi.
"Walk me to my car, would you Carson?"
He walked her to the gray sedan parked out front, I could hear her talk to him in whispers.
"How the hell do you expect the girls to feel when you do things like marrying that snobbish little rich girl without talking to anyone?"
Carson opened the car door for her and got her situated in it.
"Liliana has barely been gone a year and you pull this—"
"Good night, Carrie" He slammed the door, he was pissed off but the smile on his face never wavered.
With a final, cool glance at me, she left.
"Lovely Lady" I commented.
"Liliana's best friend" he told me.
"Oh. Sorry" it stopped being funny.
Carson opened the front door, and a blonde blur came shooting across the room.
"Daddy! You're home! You're home! I missed you!" a little girl yelled, launching herself into his arms.
He caught her with a grunt and a laugh, spinning her around before holding her tight and planting a kiss on her forehead. "I missed you too, my wild thing."
I stood there, stunned. This wasn't the three years old or younger that I was expecting. She looked seven.
She was all sunshine and energy, with messy blonde hair and his same hazel eyes. She was absolutely beautiful. I smiled at her.
Babies were considerably easier to win over than seven year olds.
When her eyes finally landed on me, she tilted her head.
"You must be Joni." I said.
The little girl giggled. "I'm Lorraine. Joni is the mean one. Who are you?"
"I'm Emilia," I said softly. "You can call me Emmy."
Lorraine, the little smartass, put her hands on her hips. "You haven't told me who you are."
Before I could answer, another voice came from the hallway.
"Haven't you heard, Lorraine?" A girl who looked about thirteen stepped into the room. She was the spitting image of Carson—same strong jaw, same serious eyes. She crossed her arms and gave her dad a look that could freeze lava. "Dad went and got us a new mother." She turned her icy gaze to me. "She's Daddy's wife."
Lorraine gasped so dramatically I thought she'd seen a ghost. Her little hands flew to her cheeks. Carson immediately pulled her into a side-hug, his eyes on his older daughter, a silent conversation passing between them.
I just stood there, my bag of little gifts feeling suddenly very small, like I'd just stumbled into a field of beautiful, complicated, and slightly explosive landmines.