Phoenix Burning(61)

Emory couldn’t resist nudging Alex in the ribs with her elbow.

“We’re engaged,” Fox announced happily. “Chris and I are going to marry as soon as we get home. And these two” —he jabbed a thumb in their direction— “are also engaged, though they haven’t set a date just yet.”

“Well then, I suspect ya’ll will be just fine up there without me chaperoning.” Maude clapped her hands together. “You boys can take the bedroom at the top of the stairs to the right. Emory and Alex can have the one to the left. Just keep it down up there. An old lady needs her beauty rest.”

Emory managed to wait until her aunt’s bedroom door had snicked shut before covering her mouth against the giggles threatening to burst forth. Foxy did the same, the both of them suppressing peals of laughter that were a result of the stress as much as the situation.

“I think I’m relieved we don’t require chaperoning,” Alex drawled.

Chris chuckled. “Me too. As much as I appreciate your looks, Alex, I don’t relish the thought of sharing a bed with you.”

Fox stopped laughing. “Damn straight.”

“I think you mean, I’m straight,” Alex quipped.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need a shower.” Fox stood up.

Alex nudged Emory to her feet. “And I need to call Gabriel. We’re expecting a shipment of hard liquor, and I need to tell him where it goes. Last time I let him handle a delivery solo, we ‘lost’ three cases of top-shelf vodka.”

Emory’s heart gave a little lurch when Alex pressed an affectionate kiss to her brow. “Don’t stay away too long,” she said.

He gave her a heart-stopping grin on his way out the door. “I’m not sure I’d make it more than a few minutes.”

Chris waited until the front door closed behind Alex. “With all of the family drama, I haven’t even had a chance to process this thing between you and Alex.”

“And now that you have?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Chris looked pensive. “It’s hard to reconcile that guy with the one I’ve seen tending bar at the Phoenix for the last several years.”

“Alex has his own share of issues. I think the reason this relationship works is that our baggage just kind of fits together.” She laughed, reminded of the twisted path that had led to this moment. “He’s taught me to let go, Chris. I never thought I’d be able to do that, but he’s changed how I think about things, about the past.”

Chris reached over and tugged a loose curl. “Then you belong with him.”

“God knows I’d never make it through this without Alex’s support.”

“I know what you mean, Emmy Lou. I’m not sure either of us would’ve had the balls to come back down here and face that bastard until now.”

She knew her twin was right, but Emory couldn’t help but worry that facing her father was going to push her courage past its limits.





Chapter Nineteen





The drive through their tiny hometown was beyond surreal. Scrunched into the backseat between Fox and Alex, Emory tried not to dwell on the unpleasant memories. The town was only four blocks long and three blocks wide. The paved main street wound its way past a squat municipal building that functioned as the local sheriff’s office, post office, and meeting place of the village council. There was a grocery, a gas station, and a barbershop all built from the same dull brown stone, with faded lettering on their weathered signs.

“Good Lord, Chris, is that your school?” Fox pointed at the tiny A-frame schoolhouse.

“That would be it,” Chris murmured. “K through twelve all in the same place.”

Emory was glad for Alex’s strong arm around her shoulders as she watched children playing in the yard of the white clapboard building. It looked exactly the same as it had the day the twins had left town.

“Oh, God.” Emory couldn’t choke back her whimper as they drove by her father’s church.

The pristine stone structure shared the quaint style of the schoolhouse save for the whitewashed cross firmly planted in the neat green square between the buildings and gravel parking lot. A flat-roofed structure sat slightly behind the church building. The fellowship hall had been the site of many potluck dinners, youth activities, and her father’s torturous revival meetings.

“It’s just a building, love.” Alex’s soothing tone helped her to breathe. “There’s no power in a building. It’s just a pile of stone and wood.”

“Your young man is right, Emmy Lou,” Aunt Maude added. “It’s your daddy that thinks that place has power. And we all know what he’s full of.”