by Lori Wilde
“I’m bored, too,” Azure said. “I want to go.”
Leigh laughed and asked the group, “Quick, what do you call a seesaw with nothing to do?” When they all shrugged, she said, “Board.”
Azure frowned. “I don’t get it. Is this another of those old people sayings?”
Emma bit back a laugh and glanced at Nathan. He winked at her, and she felt her heart do a little flippy-flop.
Yep, no matter how much she tried, she was finding it impossible to resist Nathan Barrett.
Nathan eyed the newspaper on top of the roof. Damn. How come it always ended up there? He wasn’t expecting his newspaper to be resting on the doorstep when he came out each morning, but was it really too much to expect it to be on the ground? Muttering, he tossed his basketball up on the roof and watched as it bounced and rolled to the edge, thankfully knocking the paper down on its way.
“Danny, you have the worst aim of any person on this planet,” he muttered as he picked up the basketball and newspaper.
“Who’s Danny?” Emma asked from behind him.
He hadn’t heard her walk up. “My paperboy,” Nathan explained. “He always tosses my paper up on the roof.”
Emma glanced at the roof and whistled. “Wow, that’s quite a feat. You should have the local baseball coach put him on the team.”
“I would except Danny’s aiming for the porch.”
She smiled. “Oh. That would be a problem.” Moving up the walkway a few steps, she said, “You’re awake earlier than usual.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Man, that was an understatement. He’d been wired when they’d gotten home from Chase’s house last night, and after several restless hours, he’d finally given up and come outside to get the paper.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I get up this early every morning so I can jog before work,” Emma said.
For the first time, Nathan noticed she was wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and running shoes. Her outfit was hardly racy, but it definitely got his blood pumping.
“Want to come along?” she asked with an inviting smile.
“Sure,” Nathan found himself saying before his mind had a chance to override his hormones. Damn. What a stupid thing to agree to. Here he was trying his hardest to fight the attraction he felt for this woman, and he’d just agreed to jog with her.
Had he completely lost his mind?
Apparently. And since he’d agreed, Emma was smiling at him like he’d invented electricity. He certainly couldn’t back out now.
“Give me a second to put on running shoes,” he said. “Can’t jog in jeans and cowboy boots.”
She smiled. “Not hardly.”
He brought the basketball and paper inside and set them in the foyer. It took him only a couple of minutes to change, and then he was back outside.
“You pick the direction,” he said. “But remember, I don’t jog every morning so I may have trouble keeping up with you.”
“Now why don’t I believe that?” She headed down the driveway at a modest pace. Nathan had no trouble keeping up with her. He worked out regularly on a treadmill. The terrain around Honey was flatter than a stagnant stock market, so jogging here was easy.
“I’ve never seen you out running,” Nathan said when he drew near Emma.
“I always run early,” she said. “Before you leave for work.”
“You know what time I leave for work?”
“Sure. Seven-thirty. On the dot. Except on Saturdays. Then you go in at eight.”
They headed toward town, and Nathan came to a couple of conclusions. First, he liked that Emma had paid so much attention to his schedule. And second, he realized he was the most boring man alive. He always went to work at the same time every day? He gave a rut a bad name.
“I had no idea I was so structured,” he admitted, none too happy to find out that he was.
Emma glanced at him. “What’s wrong with structure? It’s a good thing. It gives life a framework.” She smiled slightly. “I like structure. It’s not something I had growing up, and now I find it comforting.”
Emma found structure comforting? For a split second, Nathan felt good about that until, of course, he realized that the last thing he wanted Emma Montgomery to feel around him was comforted.
“Maybe Azure’s right. Maybe I am old and boring,” he said.
Emma bumped her arm against his. “Trust me you are neither old nor boring.”
He grinned. “Damned by faint praise.”
“Fishing for a compliment?” she teased. “I would have thought all those trophies would have fulfilled your need for praise.”
Nathan chuckled. “We all need an attaboy now and then.”
“Or an attagirl.”
“Or an attagirl,” he agreed, keeping his pace even with hers. “You’ve done a lot in your life to deserve praise. Was your mom the type to cheer you on?”
“Oh, yeah. Big time.”
Nathan glanced at Emma. She sounded wistful, and he couldn’t help wondering how long it had been since she’d had that kind of encouragement. “And your dad? Is he big on cheering for you?”
Emma smiled and shook her head. “No. He’s very proper. But he’s kind and always does the right thing. That’s very important, too.”
“I think so.”
She slowed her pace, and when Nathan shot her a questioning look, she said, “In a way, you’re like him.”
Nathan groaned. “I remind you of your father?”
With a laugh, Emma explained, “No. Not like that. I only meant you’re kind. You think of other people. You try to do the right thing even if it isn’t easy. I admire you.”
“I admire you, too,” he said.
“Why? For mooching a job and a place to stay from you?”
He chuckled. “No. For working hard. For throwing yourself into a project and pitching in.”
This time, when Emma smiled, he could tell how pleased she was by what he’d said. But he meant it. He really admired Emma. He was all set to discuss this some more when he noticed Steve Myerson up ahead on the sidewalk tugging on Rufus’ leash.
“Hey, Steve,” Nathan said, wishing he and Emma hadn’t been interrupted just when the conversation was getting interesting, but unable to ignore an old family friend.
“Hey, Nathan. Mind giving me a hand with Rufus? You did so well last time that I’m glad you came along. He has an appointment with the vet, but for some odd reason, I can’t get him to move.” Might be because Rufus hasn’t moved since his last vet appointment over a year ago.
Nathan looked at the dog, then looked at Steve’s minivan. Finally, he looked at Emma.
“Didn’t a pink tennis ball work last time?” she asked. “Why don’t you do what you did last year?”
Nathan looked at Steve, who scratched his bald head. “Don’t have any of those left. The last one I cut a hole in and stuck it on the back of my van.”
“What?” Emma sounded as confused as Nathan felt.
“My van doesn’t have an antenna I can put it on, and I need a way to spot my van when I go to Food Factory.” At their baffled expressions, he added, “That warehouse store is gargantuan, and the parking lot is huge and filled with vans, trucks, and SUVs that look like mine. I could never figure out where I’d parked. Now I just look down each aisle until I see the pink tennis ball.”
Nathan doubted that anyone could miss Steve’s minivan. It was purple. The older man always maintained it wasn’t purple but rather deep plum.
Nathan, like the rest of Honey, simply agreed. None of them had the heart to point out to Steve that his minivan was not only purple, it was bright purple.
Putting a pink tennis ball on that van was about as necessary as tossing a lit match on the sun. There was no way anyone could ever miss Steve’s minivan.
“So what do you think, Nathan?” Steve asked.
Nathan knelt next to Rufus and patted the old dog. “Feel like going for a ride?”
“Rufus doesn’t much ca
re what he does,” Steve said. “Got any ideas?”
At Steve’s question, Nathan turned his head—and found himself looking directly at Emma’s tempting legs. Oh, yeah, he had a few ideas. None of them had a thing to do with the dog, of course. But he had ideas all right.
“Maybe I can help.” Emma knelt on Rufus’ other side, and Nathan cursed losing his great view of her legs. Of course, at this angle, he now had a great view of her pretty face. She was flushed from running and looked tousled and sexy.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Emma asked.
He certainly hoped so. He smiled. She smiled back.
“Enticement. That’s the key,” she said softly.
Oh, yeah. That worked for him. He was one hundred percent behind the idea of enticement. He barely managed not to groan when Emma wet her lips.
“Enticement,” Nathan said.
“Exactly,” she said.
“Liver,” Steve said.
And Nathan felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over his head. He looked over his shoulder at Steve. “Excuse me?”
“Liver. Rufus loves liver. And I’ve got some in the fridge. Had it for dinner last night. Hold on.”
As Steve headed into the house, Nathan slowly stood.
“Liver,” Emma said.
Nathan nodded. “Liver.” She’d also stood, and he found himself unable to look away from her. “Was that the sort of enticement you had in mind?”
“Um, sure.”
Nathan watched with fascination as a faint blush colored Emma’s cheeks. He kept his gaze fixed on her face and watched her become increasingly flustered.
“I’ve got the liver,” Steve yelled, coming back out the front door.
Emma looked at Nathan. “What else would I have meant?”
“I’d give anything to know,” he said, unable to stop himself from smiling. “Anything.”
A smile haunted Emma’s lips, but she didn’t say anything because Steve reached them with the piece of liver. Rufus barely raised his head, which for a normal dog would have been showing no interest at all. But for Rufus it was practically dancing the tango.
“See, I told you he liked liver,” Steve said, giving some to the pooch.
Emma patted the dog, who remained firmly tacked to the sidewalk. “I still don’t see how we’re going to get him into the minivan.”
“Oh, it won’t be hard now that he’s so excited,” Steve said. He looked at Nathan. “You take the dangerous end and let the young lady here grab the safe end.”
Nathan examined the dog, baffled as to which end was safe. From what he could tell, the front end drooled a lot. But the back end of a dog like Rufus was...well, frankly, unpredictable.
He looked at Emma and raised one eyebrow. She bit back a giggle.
“Come on, let’s get him loaded before he realizes what you two are up to,” Steve said. “I’d help, but my back hasn’t been the same since the seventies.” Nathan gave him a questioning look, and Steve explained with a laugh, “You know, disco.”
This time, Nathan couldn’t prevent himself from laughing as well. Emma laughed, too. Even Rufus seemed amused.
“Those were the days,” Steve said. “Now what say we put Rufus in the minivan?”
Since there was no way to avoid the inevitable, Nathan tried to lift Rufus. Although the dog didn’t seem to mind in the least, he also weighed more than a truckload of bricks.
Despite considering himself a fairly strong guy, Nathan had one heck of a time getting a grip on the dog. If he held Rufus around the waist, both ends sagged dangerously low. Emma moved forward and held up Rufus’ head, so Nathan supported the back end.
“The van’s over here,” Steve said.
Like they could miss a huge purple minivan. “Boy, this dog weighs a ton,” Emma said, huffing.
Nathan shifted his hands forward a little so he could carry more of the weight. “He’s a big dog, but I think the main problem is he’s so relaxed.”
“If he were any more relaxed, he’d be dead,” she said.
Finally, they reached the van and carefully set Rufus in the back.
Nathan looked at Steve. “Can someone help you get him out at the vet’s? You won’t be able to do it alone, especially not with your back problems.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Doc Williams comes out to the car to give Rufus his yearly shots. Seems easier.” He again scratched his shiny head. “But I will need some help when I get home. Don’t suppose you could stop by this afternoon?”
Emma looked horrified by the idea, so Nathan said, “We’ll be at work. But I’ll make sure Trent and Leigh stop by to give you a hand.”
Steve grinned. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
After the older man climbed in his van and drove off, Nathan looked at Emma.
“I smell like lazy dog,” he said.
With a strangled sound, she sat on the curb, her hands covering her face. Concerned, Nathan sat next to her. “Are you crying?”
When she lifted her head, he saw she was laughing. “No. I’ve never worked so hard in my life not to smile.”
“Yeah, Rufus is something else.”
“I can’t remember ever having so much fun.” She laughed again. “The dangerous end? Which end is that?”
Nathan grinned. “It was a toss-up, I’ll tell you. I wasn’t sure what to do for a minute there.”
“This town is unique; I’ll give you that.”
He liked to think so. “Yeah, Honey’s a fun place. Sort of the entertainment capital of the middle of nowhere.”
She grinned back at him. “I don’t know about you, but I really need a shower. Badly. I also smell like lazy dog.”
Nathan stood and helped her up. “Come on. Let’s go become human again.”
Rather than jog, they walked on the return trip, laughing repeatedly about Rufus. When they finally got back to his house, Emma waved, then dashed upstairs to her apartment to clean up.
Nathan headed inside his house, wondering at what point he’d become so attracted to Emma that even covered with dog fur and smelling like Rufus, she was the most compelling woman he’d ever met.
8
“Hi...um, Dad,” Emma said two weeks later when she called her father. As always, she stumbled when calling him Dad. Prior to recently, she’d only spoken to her father a few times a year. Now she called him a couple of times a month, but even with the extra communication, their conversations were often stilted. She only hoped that would change once she moved to Wyneheart.
“Emma, dear, how are you? How is that job in Hummus working out?” As always, her father sounded distracted. She could hear papers rustling in the background. No doubt he was working while at the same time talking to her.
She had a perfect image of him in her mind from her last visit to Wyneheart. He probably was sitting behind his huge desk, his papers systematically organized, a clock prominently displayed so he kept on schedule at all times. Unlike her own desk, on Benjamin Montgomery’s desk, there were no papers slipping off the sides like lemmings plunging into the sea, no reference books teetering in Leaning Tower of Pisa piles, no half-consumed rolls of antacids scattered around.
No, Benjamin Montgomery’s desk was neat, organized, and efficient. Emma couldn’t help wondering what he was going to think once she finally moved to Massachusetts, and he saw how disorganized she could be at times.
He would probably have an embolism.
“Honey. The job is in Honey, Dad, not Hummus.”
“Ah, so it is. Sorry, dear. Anyway, how is Honey? I’m sure the place is dreadful.”
“Honey is great. I’ve met a lot of very friendly people here. And Barrett Software is a terrific place to work. Very advanced.”
“If it’s so advanced, why don’t they locate their headquarters where the industry is growing? Someplace like Silicon Valley or on the East Coast.”
“Because the owner, Nathan Barrett, is very loyal to Honey. He was born here and knows the town depend
s on him.”
“Hmm,” was all her father said, so she knew he wasn’t listening to her again. The workings of small-town Honey didn’t interest him.
“So how are you?” she asked.
“Wonderful. Busy. Yesterday, I was struck by a brilliant idea for a new book, examining symbolism in Whitman. Not the same old, same old. Instead, it will take a new approach. I’ve already roughed out the outline and can’t wait to start writing. And how are you?”
How was she? She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She was...confused. Confused by the feelings she had for Nathan. Confused as to what would happen to her if she acted on those feelings. Over the past couple of weeks, she and Nathan had both worked hard at being friends. But the memory of the kisses they’d shared danced between them like an annoying ghost. Whenever she was in the room with Nathan, she became confused about so many things.
Like how was she going to feel ten years from now if she didn’t act on the feelings she had for him? And she had deep feelings for the man. She admired him. She wanted him. She liked him. And he confused her.
But her father wasn’t the person to discuss those feelings with. He was trying. He really was. But he didn’t have a clue how to be a father, and he certainly didn’t know what to do with a female offspring. If she poured her heart out to her dad, she’d end up embarrassing both of them.
Instead, she settled for the simple answer. “I’m fine.”
“And your dissertation? Are you almost done?”
Um, if one considered almost done to be roughly a third of the way through it.
“Not quite,” she admitted, feeling ridiculously like an errant child.
“Emma, goals don’t achieve themselves,” her father said. “You must pursue them relentlessly. Victory belongs to those who claim it. A winner is the one who never relaxes. Always keep your eye on the horizon, your focus on the achievement, and your hand on the helm.”
Oh, great. Just what she needed. Cross-stitch adages. “I know, Dad.”
“Seriously, what seems to be the problem? You should be done by now.”
Emma couldn’t tell him the problem was Nathan. The man got to her. Every time she was near him, she felt as if she’d just gotten off a Loop-D-Loop ride at a carnival. He confused her to the point that whenever she sat down to work on her dissertation, she ended up thinking about him instead.