Emma

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Emma Page 1

by Angie Wilder




  Emma: Betting on Paris

  A Christmas Romance

  Angie Wilder

  Kiss Me Publishing Inc.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Betting on Paris

  Denise Devine

  Alana

  Emma

  Betting on Paris Series

  Copyright © 2019 by Angie Wilder

  www.angie-wilder.com

  * * *

  ISBN: 9781701287846

  All rights reserved.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Edited by Ink Deep Editing.

  Beta Readers: L.F. Nies, J. Dalton, D. Devine and B. Gildersleeve

  I dedicate this story to my youngest son, David. I’m sorry I made you listen to Christmas music in the summer. I had way too much fun chuckling over your mock horror. I can always count on you for a smile and a hug of support. You are beautiful.

  Introduction

  Spend the holidays with Josie, Ryley, Emma, Alana, and Annika. Get ready for five weeks of romance with a new Christmas series brought to you by five exciting contemporary authors…

  * * *

  Betting on Paris!

  * * *

  Five exciting stories linked by a unifying theme. You’ll want to read each one!

  * * *

  BETTING ON PARIS SERIES

  Sometimes the best bet is the one you lose…

  Five best friends. Five promises.

  Each year in mid-August, the former college roommates meet up on a girls-only trip somewhere in the world. This year, it’s Paris, the city of museums, art, and romance. One night during their vacation, the girls engage in a serious talk about the sorry state of their love lives and collectively decide they are swearing off men. Instead, each woman is intent on pursuing her life’s goal. Falling in love is the last thing on her mind!

  * * *

  This is Emma’s story…

  What started as just a friendly mistletoe kiss turned into the biggest decision of her life.

  * * *

  The boy next door, the hockey star, has never noticed her like that before…

  With Emma Gains’ big city partnership on the line, the last thing she needs is a small-town holiday romance. But when an urgent call has her flying home and working side by side with her old crush Evan, her brother’s tempting-as-all-get-out best friend, will those pesky lingering feelings get stirred up?

  * * *

  Emma has blossomed. She is also off-limits.

  Retired from the NHL, Evan Heartley finds himself facing a new dangerous game—coping with an unexpected attraction to sweet little Emma who’s not so little anymore. Skating outside the friend zone is risky business. It’s also foolish since he’s put down roots and bought into the Gains family’s veterinary practice, and Emma has no plans to stay.

  * * *

  They should play it safe, but there’s one problem—their chemistry is off the charts. But what happens when she leaves?

  * * *

  Fall in love with Emma and Evan in this sweet and sexy, fun and flirty, friends-to-lovers romantic comedy today.

  1

  In her childhood bedroom, Emma lay on her back, not quite ready for the world. Her normal seize-the-day routine was miles away in California, where her pending partnership in a veterinary practice—the path to personal fulfillment—waited for her return. Her fingertips examined her knotted nest of hair. A wild tangle thanks to a short restless night’s sleep.

  The sound of her family’s voices floated up from the kitchen, and Emma kicked her feet over the side of the old double bed. Her brother Ben was over early considering the late night he’d had after picking her up at the Minneapolis airport and driving her the three hours home to Hillcrest.

  Emma rubbed her chest, thinking over the last few days. Daddy had suffered a heart attack. The hospital had discharged him yesterday before Emma arrived. To her relief, Daddy would recover with rest, and she vowed to keep the veterinary clinic running smoothly in his absence. Still, she felt guilty that she couldn’t make it home until the weekend. Good heavens, she needed a day off.

  As kids, Saturday mornings were the best. There would be doughnuts and a favorable chance she’d wake to an additional male voice, Ben’s best buddy, Evan Heartley. They were a constant pair, just like her and Evan’s sister, Kaley. Once, the older boys had clomped up the stairs and stormed into Emma’s room to cash in on her tooth fairy score. The boys had hockey gear to buy, and she had a small debt to pay after borrowing from her brother’s piggy bank for a limited-edition cat charm for her bracelet. Emma’s head had bounced as Ben’s hand shifted under her pillow. Evan hovered close enough that she could smell cinnamon pastries on his breath. She used the opportunity to admire how his hair, the perfect shade of dark chocolate, fell over his forehead and curled around his ear. When he’d caught her grinning up at him, she’d given him the stink eye. She was six years old and in love. Emma should not have confided her secret to Kaley. She thought only a silly doofus would fall for her big brother. It was excellent advice that Emma should have taken twenty-four years ago.

  Emma clicked on the bedside lamp. Colorful friendship charms were pinned to its shade and a handful of beaded necklaces draped over the top. Her room hadn’t changed much since those youthful years. The painted white furniture, flowered curtains, and lace-trimmed pillows brought back the past, which explained why she’d slipped into silly childhood memories.

  She waved off the errant thoughts. The faint sound of laughter from below called, and she dashed across the bedroom. Emma dodged spilled-open suitcases and bit back a squeal as she tripped on a dangling bra strap. The hazard, a tan pushup, had turned booby trap. Her body wobbled, arms flailed, and she caught her stumble against the dresser. A miniature Christmas tree decked with tiny red balls swayed. With a curse and a flick of her foot, Emma kicked the bra free—so much for extra lift and support.

  She should slow down. An extra two minutes to get downstairs wouldn’t make a bit of difference. She couldn’t be late. She had nothing to be late for. The trip home had wiped her hectic schedule clear, but she still couldn’t slow down.

  Emma’s return had started with a stomach-plunging phone call Tuesday, and she’d arrived in Hillcrest by midnight Friday. The fact that she’d forgotten to pack pajamas suitable for December in Minnesota was the least of her worries, though her legs were freezing. The honey-chia body lotion she slathered on before bed was a poor replacement for pajama pants.

  From a musty drawer, Emma pulled out an old pair of black knee socks leftover from her high school days and tugged them on. The twelve-year-old elastic crackled in protest.
The socks slumped as she moved through her bathroom routine. With minty fresh breath and a happy bladder, she hustled down the stairway.

  Out of habit, she glanced out the windows that faced the Heartley house and grinned when she caught herself doing so. Regardless of the situation, it was good to be home where she was surrounded by friends and family.

  If she could move mountains, she would have returned sooner. But Ben had assured her that Daddy would be fine, and he was an ER doctor, so he should know. Emma’s brief delay in leaving California had allowed her the necessary time to cover her shifts and tie up loose ends. She had already made plans for Christmas in Hillcrest with her family, but after receiving the call about Daddy, she’d changed her scheduled vacation from one week at the end of the month to all of December.

  The Beverly Hills Veterinary Wellness Center and Medical Spa had promised her the leave wouldn’t affect her partnership opportunity. Probably. Emma felt her stress climb over that awful P-word. She had thought her buy-in was a sure deal. The veterinary center was cutting edge. They took a new-age approach to health care, and she really wanted that partnership. She pressed her fingertips to her third-eye meridian for a little tension relief. Emma tried not to stew over her career worry, over the veterinary position that would prove she had what it took to earn her way to the top of her field. Make her daddy proud.

  In addition to the stress, she was also jet-lagged and had a nagging suspicion she was forgetting something.

  Emma gave her socks a yank on her way to the kitchen. She was in dire need of a jelly doughnut and hot coffee to jump-start her brain. Home. A delicious tradition wrapped in the comfort of Momma’s kitchen.

  Emma dragged in a deep sniff. Something didn’t smell right. There was change in the air.

  “Morning!” Emma greeted her parents and her brother.

  Momma accepted a quick hug, then stepped in front of the coffee pot, as if blocking it, rather than suggesting a cup.

  Her daddy sat at the breakfast table dressed in plaid flannel. His silver hair stood on end as his lips twisted over the contents of his “World’s Best Veterinarian” mug, the one Emma had given him on Father’s Day when she was nine years old. It had been his favorite ever since. He set his drink aside without taking a taste. “There you are. We were worried you’d sleep all day.”

  All day? Emma frowned at the kitchen clock. It was seven-thirty, five-thirty California time. After a kiss to her daddy’s whiskered cheek, Emma scanned the countertop, the bare spot over the side-by-side fridge, the antique whitewashed sideboard where the beloved dome-covered cake plate remained empty. Where was the happy lemon-yellow bakery box?

  “There are no sweets,” Daddy grumbled as if reading her mind.

  Momma tutted over a pot on the stove.

  “Oh.” Emma sat down at the table. How much had changed since her last visit?

  Frenchie, the loyal bulldog, lay at her feet, appearing equally unimpressed with the lack of cake crumbs under the table.

  Emma bent down to rub the dog’s ears.

  “I appreciate you coming home, pumpkin,” Daddy said. “I hope your extended trip won’t impact your partnership.”

  “The board said it wouldn’t.” Probably. She schooled her expression and hoped that Daddy didn’t see her worry. The position was hers, but until the paperwork got signed, her stomach wouldn’t unknot.

  He nodded, but Emma got the feeling he’d picked up on her concern when he asked, “Is there any way I can help? Would you like me to reach out to my contacts? References?” Daddy might have been a small-town vet, but he was well networked. He’d written articles and spoken at conferences for the American Medical Veterinary Association on how to run a successful rural practice.

  “No thanks, Daddy. I’m fine.” Beverly Hills was her baby. The cherry on top. The Stanley Cup. Emma needed to earn it on her own merit. Having a well-respected veterinarian for her father had given a boost to her career, but this golden opportunity had resulted from Emma’s hard work. She glanced at her brother. He was a tough act to follow. He had a great career, owned a large (albeit empty) home, and lived close enough to attend every family function.

  Ben unzipped the navy hoodie he wore over his ER scrubs. The swath of exposed sea-green material brought out his ginger coloring. In high school, out on the ice rink, the hockey fans had called him the Flame, a nickname they never shared because (a) she was more blonde than ginger, like her mother, and (b) she was wretched at sports. Ben pulled off his red-headed coloring well, like he did everything. He glanced at her, offering a sympathetic look as he squeezed the bulb of the blood pressure cuff wound around Daddy’s arm. Her brother’s eyes showed more fatigue than concern.

  Emma’s shoulders relaxed. She nodded toward the empty coffee pot then back at Ben’s mug.

  He shook his head and mouthed, “Don’t ask.”

  “Don’t knock it until you try it.” Momma used her elbow to gesture to the box of tea bags on the table while she stood at the counter and added fresh strawberries to a bowl of steaming oatmeal. No sugar. “Healthy and tasty.”

  Green tea? Emma’s gaze bounced between abandoned mugs as the reality of her new world sunk in. There was no coffee or doughnuts. Daddy’s heart attack scare had catapulted Momma into wholesome and nurturing dietary changes. Emma was all in on the healthy, but this was home.

  Daddy shifted his weight, causing the ladder-back chair to groan with sympathy. “While we were at the hospital, the house was robbed of everything delicious.”

  “This is the new delicious.” Momma placed a mug filled with hot water in front of Emma. “Red mug. Green tea. It’ll be festive and put you in the mood to deck the halls.”

  When Momma turned away, Daddy leaned in close and whispered, “She’ll never last.”

  Truer words had never been spoken. It wasn’t a matter of if she would cave, but when. Emma nodded and held a tea bag to her nose. Her Christmas cheer would improve with caffeine.

  “It smells foul,” Daddy said at the same time the kitchen door flung open.

  Kaley stepped inside with an ear-to-ear grin. She patted her growing baby belly and said, “The stink could be me.” Five months into her pregnancy, and Kaley had just begun to show. Her dark hair and blue eyes took on an extra-pretty maternity glow as she launched a love-you-to-death hug at Emma and announced, “I’ve got pregnancy wind.” Kaley’s back stiffened mid-squeeze, and she mumbled, “I didn’t know Ben was here.”

  Emma chuckled. Her bestie knew how to make an entrance. She was like a sister, the funny one.

  Once Kaley had gotten knocked up by Mark, her soldier boyfriend of two years, the Heartleys had insisted their daughter return home while they plotted her shotgun wedding. Kaley had moved in immediately, happy to take advantage of her parents’ recent kitchen renovation. She’d been living there a month. Everyone seemed overjoyed about the upcoming nuptials and baby. Though Emma recognized her momma was green with wedding and baby envy. It wasn’t hard to tell. With no prospects for either Ben or Emma, Momma didn’t bother to hide it.

  “Gas happens. Even to animals,” Daddy said and grimaced as Momma approached with his breakfast. It was a poor substitute for the beloved box of sweet rolls.

  Momma set the oatmeal down in front of Daddy and beamed. “Isn’t it wonderful, Emma? Kaley will have a summertime wedding and a little one. I know how thrilled Lee and Lisa are to be grandparents. Remember how the two of you girls used to do everything together?”

  And there it was. Emma Gains, DVM, was a grown woman on the verge of becoming a veterinary clinic partner to the stars. A lofty goal. A priority that ranked higher than dating—to her mother’s dismay. Therefore, the two girlfriends no longer did “everything” together. They hadn’t since high school when Emma went off to the University of Minnesota, and Kaley had become a food blogger turned caterer.

  “Momma, best friends don’t have to do all the same things at the same time. They support each other’s dreams.” Emma’s stomach knotted.
She hadn’t been the most supportive friend in recent months. Her career ate up most of her time.

  “Right! We got each other’s backs.” Kaley took Emma in another hug and then whispered, “Why are you wearing that? If Evan sees you, there will be questions.”

  Questions? What had she yanked on over her nightgown to stay warm? Why would Evan see her?

  Emma glanced down at what she was wearing. Oh, crud-muffins! That secret she had no intention of sharing.

  Evan parallel parked his truck in front of the brick bakery that served up designer coffees. The wind tugged open his coat as he hurried through the impromptu errand. It was the first of December, and Main Street Hillcrest would soon crowd with holiday shoppers. On an early Saturday morning, it was quiet aside from the breakfast seekers. Outside the bakery, a woman crouched by an urn crammed full of evergreen branches as she secured a red bow to the pot. Evan stepped around a loose pile of string lights scattered next to where she worked. He’d always liked the Christmas season. This was the first year in a long while he’d be home to enjoy it.

  The brunette tossed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him up and down. “Hi, Mr. Heartley,” she said with a bright smile.

 

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