by Jamie Beck
“He bet me fifty bucks that I wouldn’t last the month without making a move, and another fifty that you’d turn me down.” Wyatt caught himself holding his breath.
Emma’s distant gaze suggested she was thinking again, so Wyatt remained quiet, content to feel her body heat seeping through her thin dress to warm his palm. The anticipation of her possibly brushing against his torso or resting her chin on his shoulder tormented him with longing.
With her focus elsewhere, he stole a few seconds and studied her face. Her lips, full and a deep shade of pink, begged to be kissed. Her scattered freckles did, too. He’d gotten lost in the details until he glanced at her eyes, which were now staring right at him.
“So if I make a move first, he loses both bets?” Emma cocked her head.
Every hair on Wyatt’s body vibrated with resounding force. Honestly, he hadn’t made those bets, but right now he wanted to see what she’d do next, so he didn’t reiterate that point. “I guess so.”
Another three tense seconds passed while she appeared to gather her courage. His body was strung so tight, he thought he might snap in two.
“Is he still watching?” Emma leaned closer to whisper in his ear, and he felt a shiver rush down his legs.
“Uh huh.” Wyatt gulped, his hand clasping hers a little tighter now.
She drew a deep breath before her hand curled around the base of his neck. “You owe me half your take,” she murmured just before she pulled him in for a kiss.
Emma’s sense of triumph scattered along with all other thoughts the instant Wyatt’s hungry kiss consumed her. He tugged her snugly against his body as he tilted his head to get a better hold on her. His other hand threaded into her hair, and she remembered how much he’d enjoyed wrapping her hair around his hands the last time they’d been together.
Her body remembered his scent, his taste . . . the rough feel of his strength. Remembered the way he’d made her soar and shatter. She trembled from those memories, which then caused him to groan with pleasure. Tumbling into some crazy kind of ecstasy, Emma’s body slackened against his. She might’ve let him strip her down to nothing right there if the pounding bass of a new song hadn’t jolted her back to reality.
Suddenly remembering where she was—in a room full of friends’ parents and her neighbors—she pushed away from Wyatt. Dazed, they stared at each other, chests heaving.
A lazy smile spread beneath his heated gaze. “Remind me to thank Trip for that stupid bet.”
Heat throbbed through her limbs. Her skin must’ve looked like a boiled lobster. Never, never, never had she made herself a public spectacle. Damn that Trip Lexington, and damn Wyatt Lawson, too.
She staggered, and Wyatt reached out to catch her. “Emma, are you okay?”
“Yes.” Shrugging out of his grasp, she straightened her spine. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute.”
She turned and marched toward Trip, whose usual smirk had been replaced by openmouthed surprise. “You lose. Pay Wyatt the hundred bucks.” Then, as regally as she could manage, she smiled at Kelsey, Grey, and Avery and proceeded directly to the ladies’ room.
Setting her hands on either side of the sink basin, she took a few seconds to catch her breath and compose herself. To adopt a laissez-faire attitude and strut back into the crowd as if that kiss had been no big deal.
Predictably, Avery and Kelsey burst into the bathroom before Emma had a chance to recover.
“Oh my God, Emma Duffy.” Kelsey literally bounced on her toes, every one of her curves jiggling with excitement. “I’m so proud of you. That was H-O-T!”
Equally predictably, Avery smacked Kelsey’s arm before turning to Emma. “Em, are you drunk?”
“Emma’s never drunk, Ave,” Kelsey said, as if the mere idea of Emma being anything less than sober were a fairy tale. She flashed a saucy smile. “She’s just in lurve.”
“Honestly, Kelsey.” Avery rolled her eyes, then reached for Emma’s shoulder. “What’s going on with you and Wyatt? I mean, you never do things like that. Then again, we are at Kelsey’s engagement party, so I should expect just about anything to happen.”
Kelsey didn’t even take offense. Instead, her smile beamed like sunlight bouncing off the mirrors. “Emma, this fling is exactly what you need right now. Your mom is gone. You’ve got one of the sexiest snowboarders in the whole darn country staying at your inn all by his lonesome. It’s high time for a little fun and romance. Not work, work, work all the time. Volunteering everywhere and being so . . . good.”
Unlike Kelsey, Emma had never thrown caution to the wind and doubted it would work out well if she did. But that dull adjective burrowed under her skin like a Lyme disease‒infected tick.
“Good,” Emma repeated the words flatly, staring at her reflection. “Why is that always the first word everyone says about me?”
“You’re a kind, caring person. A good friend and daughter,” Avery said. “Why does it sound like you don’t like that label?”
“Because it’s so . . . boring.” Emma looked at Avery. “People call you smart, assertive, adventuresome. Kelsey’s sparkly and romantic and savvy. I’m just good.”
Avery rubbed her hand on Emma’s back. “It’s not meant as an insult. You’re our rock. The sane person who keeps us in check. The one we trust for the best advice.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” Emma said, almost in tears. She knew her friends loved her, but there was an entire side of her heart they didn’t know. A side no one knew. With all her secrets and repressed needs, she was the last person who should be giving anyone advice.
A private piece of her soul wondered what life might’ve been like had her dad not taken off and left her to prop up her broken mother. The devil that wouldn’t leave her shoulder whispered subversive ideas about where she might be living and what she might’ve accomplished if Grammy hadn’t always counted on her to keep the Weenuche legacy going. Emma didn’t dislike her life, but there were times when the parts that didn’t fit so well really chafed. Tonight was one of those times.
Only Wyatt had ever caught a glimpse of another side of Emma, and he didn’t even remember—didn’t know that she was Alexa.
Still, she wouldn’t share these thoughts with her friends. Ever since her father left, she’d locked down any part of herself that might cause conflict or controversy. That might create distance or cause people to judge her unworthy.
She’d clung to being good as a way to keep people close and make them happy, even though it could make her feel fraudulent and wretched and lonely. At the end of the day, she was still afraid of doing things that could hurt the people she loved, or herself, in the future. The “good” reputation she’d cultivated had become a prison.
“Well, I don’t know about everyone else, but I couldn’t be more tickled than to see new romance blooming at my engagement party. You know, if something more happens between you two, I’m taking all the credit for creating an environment neither of you could resist.” Kelsey swooped in and swaddled Emma in a hearty embrace. “Be happy, Emma. Let go and have a little fun. Be like me for a change and learn to get over what everyone else thinks. Just live and see what happens.”
“If this gets back to my mother . . .” Emma stopped herself, realizing that, at thirty-one, she sounded pathetic to be worried about her mother’s opinion. Yet, for so long, it had been just her and her mom making their way together.
Emma straightened up and smoothed her hair. “I only kissed Wyatt to make Trip lose that stupid bet and wipe the smug look off his face. Now, whatever happens, if anything happens, it will be between Wyatt and me. Not because of Trip.”
Kelsey wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know about that. What just happened out there got the ball rolling, and that’s all because of Trip.”
Her proud smile sparked Emma’s laugh. “You see him through the rosiest glasses.”
“God, I do love that man.” Kelsey’s unapologetic, big love for Trip made Emma wonder if her own mother had ever been so
enamored of her dad.
Did the fact that Kelsey totally accepted Trip’s nature give them a better chance at lasting? Had Emma’s mother’s insecurities and judgments—her restraint—driven her father away?
That last thought felt like a betrayal of her mom, who’d been so devastated when he’d left them. And he hadn’t proven himself to be the most loving father since then, either. No, the fault had to be with him and his selfish, lusty nature. Lust usually wreaked havoc in people’s lives. This much Emma knew.
Even so, she’d already started falling for Wyatt.
“Shall we return to the party?” Avery asked. “The longer we stay in here, the more questions it’ll raise.”
Emma drew a deep breath and prepared to face the consequences of her lapse in judgment. She’d have to do it with her head held high, even if her insides were fumbling like a puppet on loose strings. “Crap.”
Wyatt’s phone kept beeping. His Twitter feed had blown up because someone at the party tweeted a picture of him and Emma making out, along with a text that read, “Check out @AirdogLawson’s latest training regimen.”
Dammit. He’d become so preoccupied with Emma, he’d forgotten that something like this could happen. That the reputation he’d been trying to rebuild could take a hit. Probably best if he didn’t respond. Most of the time responding only made the noise last longer.
Ryder would probably see this before Wyatt got back to the inn, too, which wouldn’t lessen the tension between them. Not for the first time tonight, a dose of guilt slid down to sour his stomach. He hated the idea that he and Ryder might both want Emma. Worse, that he’d plowed ahead and tried to take her without first figuring out exactly how it could hurt his brother.
“Well, well, well.” Trip pulled out his wallet and thumbed through his cash. He handed a hundred bucks to Wyatt. “I gotta hand it to Emma. Didn’t think she had it in her.”
Wyatt shoved the money back at Trip. “I don’t want your money.”
“Fair’s fair.” Trip thrust it forward.
“I mean it. Keep your cash. My interest in Emma’s got nothing to do with you or the bet, and I don’t want this on my conscience.” His conscience had enough to atone for tonight.
Trip put the cash back in his wallet. “This gets more interesting by the minute.”
Wyatt’s phone bleeped again. “Dammit. Forty-seven retweets? Don’t people have anything better to do?”
“What’s wrong?” Kelsey asked, appearing out of nowhere with Avery and Emma.
“Nothin’.” Wyatt stuffed the phone in his pocket.
“What retweets?” Emma asked, eyes alert and nervous. Just the sight of her got him going again, despite the many reasons he shouldn’t lose control.
Maybe he should make light of the tweets so she didn’t freak out. He glanced at the others. “Excuse us a second.” Clasping Emma’s arm, he then maneuvered her into a corner a little distance from her friends and the crowd, hopeful no one else was snapping pictures. “Some joker posted a picture of our . . . dance. Basically called me out on getting distracted from my purpose for being in town.”
Emma’s pink cheeks paled. “May I see?”
Wyatt grimaced, but he unlocked his phone and pulled up the tweet. It bleeped again.
“Forty-eight retweets,” she said, handing him back the phone. No tantrum. No whining. No words of regret. Maybe she didn’t mind so much.
“You’re not mad?” He peered into her eyes, trying to figure her out. When he’d said she was a mystery, it hadn’t been a lie. “I can respond if you want, but I think it’s best to ignore it.”
“My name isn’t mentioned,” she shrugged with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Not that my name would mean anything in the Twitterverse anyway. But you can’t see my face in the photo. And it’s just a kiss, after all. Gossip about the fallen ‘Saint Emma’ will travel only through town. I’ll face a few snickers next week at the grocery store, and poor Mr. Tomlin will be heartbroken. Mrs. Pellman will take credit. Oh, yes, that will be a big source of entertainment for them. But it should all die down before . . .” Then she fell silent and lowered her gaze.
“Before what?”
“Nothing.” Her gaze dropped to the floor.
“No, it’s something.” He tipped up her chin, searching her eyes for answers. “Before what?”
She sighed. “Before my mother returns.”
He almost laughed but sensed it would only piss her off. Her mother? “Why would your mom care if you kissed me?”
Emma grimaced while looping her fingers through her hair. He wanted to do that for her, but he refrained from touching her again, intent on listening. “She has a very strict sense of propriety. The idea of me making out in public, in front of her friends, with a guy I barely know will not sit well. She’ll jump to all kinds of conclusions about where it might lead.”
“And that bothers you.” He understood, actually, because much of his life had been about wanting his parents’ affection, which always seemed frustratingly out of reach. In the process, he’d made a name for himself and earned money to improve all of their lives. Until he’d helped destroy Ryder’s, that is.
Now the only way he might win his mom’s approval would be to recapture his fame and, in the process, help Ryder begin to live again.
“Yes. I like to make her proud. Maybe I am old-fashioned at heart, but I respect her values and faith.” Emma’s discomfort from that last admission showed in her cheeks. She straightened her shoulders and immediately changed the subject. “So where’s my fifty bucks.”
“I didn’t take Trip’s money.” Wyatt crossed his arms.
“Why not? He’d have taken yours. Besides, I earned it.” She turned her head, searching for Trip.
Wyatt grasped her hand, unwilling to let her cut this conversation short just when it was getting somewhere. “I keep telling you, I never shook on that bet, and I don’t want him, your friends, or you to think that my interest has anything to do with money or that stupid bet.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Well, that’s . . . that’s sweet, Wyatt.”
“Trust me, I’m a lot of things.” He squeezed her hand, hoping her heart thumped from the contact like his did. That her blood thickened in her limbs, making them heavy, just as his were. “But sweet isn’t one of them.”
Emma’s breath caught for a moment before she tugged free from his grasp and smoothed her hair. “Let’s get back to the party. If people tease, we’ll say it was a dare from Trip. Everyone will buy that, and it’ll take away any speculation that something more is happening.”
“Would that be so bad?” Frustration began to crowd his thoughts, sharpening the tone of his voice.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I prefer life outside of the spotlight.”
“Not the speculation, the something more.” He stepped closer, determined to make her admit the fact that she liked him—at least a little bit, anyway. “Say what you want, but that kiss didn’t feel like something you did just to win a bet.”
She looked like she might run, so Wyatt boxed her in by settling one hand against the wall behind her shoulder. “It felt like something you wanted. I know I did.”
“Please, stop.” Emma’s eyes darted over his shoulder, scanning the crowd. “We’re in public.”
He knew he shouldn’t risk this type of publicity, yet he leaned closer so that his lips were near her ear. “Then let’s go someplace private.”
He pulled back in time to catch the flare of heat flicker in her eyes. No matter how much she protested, that kiss and the brilliant green glow in her eyes told him he affected her. Like a gambler who’d gone all in, he waited—muscles taut with anticipation—to see if his wager would pay off. Her hesitation offered no relief.
“There are at least twenty women here who’d happily hook up with you tonight, Wyatt. Why are you so intent on me?”
“I already told you, I think you’re interesting.”
“Because I’m not falling at your fee
t? Because you like the challenge? Because you think I’m quaint?”
In for a penny, he thought, as he twirled a bit of her hair in his fingers. “Because I think your red hair is almost as pretty as you. Because you dance in pantries when no one is looking. Because I love and hate the way you look out for Ryder. Because you’re a great cook. Because you’re patient with Mari, those old folks, and me. Because you care about your mom’s opinion.” He noticed the artery at the base of her neck beating faster, so he stepped even closer. “Because the upside of the fact that you turn your back to me on a consistent basis is that I get to stare at your ass, which has led to a fair number of fantasies. And because that kiss a few minutes ago confirmed that, no matter how much you fight it, there’s something between us that wants to be explored.”
Her enlarged pupils practically eliminated every trace of green in her eyes. Her shallow breath told him he’d excited her. As far as he could tell, there was only one thing standing in their way. “So the question is, why not me, Emma? What’s so wrong with me?”
She blinked, her brows furrowed. Her throat worked hard to swallow. “Because I know how this goes, Wyatt. Nowhere. You’ll be gone like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“I’m here for a few more weeks. Can’t we just see what happens? At the very least, it could be a really fun memory.” Truthfully, no woman had kept his attention once he’d moved on to a new location before. Then again, Emma wasn’t like any of the other women he’d known.
Her green eyes dimmed like the sun ducking behind a cloud. In a low, defeated voice, she uttered, “Trust me when I tell you, I’m not that memorable.”
As soon as the words were out, she slapped her hand over her mouth.
“Why’d you say that?” Wyatt demanded.
“Nothing. Please drop this. People are staring, and I’m getting really uncomfortable. I told you I didn’t want the attention stolen from Kelsey, either. Let’s mingle.”
She’d shot him down and shut him out. He didn’t like it, and not only because it never happened. He knew, however, he’d get no further with her here at her friend’s party, nor should he try in front of prying eyes. That, and he’d promised not to do anything to draw attention away from her friend, Kelsey. “You know what, I’m going to catch an Uber home and spend some time with Ryder, if he’s back from pottery, that is.”