by Angie Wilder
“Morning.” He nodded and reached for the door handle. He had no idea who she was, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know him. It took some getting used to the recognition. He wondered how long the fame would last now that he’d retired from the NHL. The attention flattered him, but sometimes it made him feel more like a prize than a person.
Evan had had it with superficial relationships.
As he opened the door, the rich smell of freshly ground coffee and doughnuts as sweet as cotton candy washed over his senses, and he dragged in a deep breath. It reminded him of mornings in the Gains’ family kitchen. He’d spent a decent chunk of his youth at the neighbors’ house, and they at his family’s place. That connection with his friends and family had brought Evan back to his hometown to put down roots. Small-town living wasn’t for everyone, he knew, but he couldn’t imagine residing anywhere else. He had people he loved, an excellent veterinary practice, and a pretty lake view from his home. Evan had never relied on athletics to get him through life. Instead, he had put his hockey scholarships to good use. He’d invested in his brain, not only his body. It was a smart thing too because, after his shoulder injury, his days had been numbered in the NHL. The Minnesota Wild had let him go. He didn’t blame them. It was the nature of the business, and Evan was thankful for the opportunity to play pro hockey, no matter how short his time in the big show.
A petite lady with a helmet of tight gray curls shuffled toward the exit.
Evan held the door for her, then grinned thinking of the lady’s round orange tabby, who was the spitting image of that cartoon cat. The fat cat was a patient. Most of the faces he recognized in town Evan knew from high school. He figured that would soon change given his new career, partnering with Ted Gains. Only Evan wouldn’t be working with his mentor for a while. Ted needed time to recuperate from the heart attack. When Evan had gotten the call, the scare had put a knot in his belly.
“Thank you, doctor.” The gray-haired lady passed by and patted his arm.
“How’s Garfield?” Evan couldn’t recall the cat’s actual name, but the nickname suited him.
“Oh, my! That puss is a real healthy eater.” She cupped her fingers over her lips and said, “I think he’s with child.” She laughed over her joke.
Evan chuckled and offered her a departing nod.
Through the window, he noticed the brunette was still watching him.
She was pretty and way too young. He was thirty-two, at least a decade older than the girl. Speaking of girls, Evan needed to figure out what to get Emma. He wanted to surprise her with a drink when he arrived at their house. The menu ran along the rear wall. He examined the options for something with chocolate. “Large mocha…” he started to say, but then the featured special, the chai latte, and the green tea further down the list caused him to pause. Emma lived in California. She did stuff like yoga. Had her food preferences changed over the years? It had been far too long since they’d hung out together. Sporadic phone calls didn’t cut it. He should know these things. At one time he’d known Emma as well as his own sister. Although, if Emma had given up sugar, he was sure his sister Kaley would have complained.
Chocolate was a solid choice. Emma had once offered to arm wrestle him for a miniature candy bar. It was Halloween, and her goodie haul had disappointed. He was two years older and a lot bigger. He’d let her win. In thanks, she’d knocked him down with a hug. He’d given her an extra bar for making him laugh. The girl liked her chocolate.
“Whipped cream on top?” The barista smiled and waited for him to decide.
Emma was all in on toppings. “Extra whip and—”
“That’s my favorite.”
He scanned the menu for something for himself. “What is?”
The blonde leaned forward. “Your coffee order. It’s the same as mine. We have something in common.”
“Right.” He nodded. “I’ll also take a large black coffee. To go.” Evan shifted his focus to the pastry display. “And a jelly doughnut.” He pointed to the tray of treats with red filling oozing out. The spicy fragrance of cinnamon tempted him, but he’d already had breakfast after his morning workout.
She reached in the case, her hand positioned to pick up the pastry.
“No. Sorry. I want the next one over. It has more frosting. It’s for my friend. She has a sweet tooth.”
“Right,” the blonde said, her lips forming a thin line as she bagged the doughnut and rung him up.
He put an extra bill in the tip jar for being a pain about the frosting. Then he headed for the exit, looking forward to seeing Emma. She hadn’t been home at the same time as him in years. Now, they’d be spending a whole lot of time together, starting with giving her a ride to the clinic. Evan strode to his truck; he didn’t want to keep Emma waiting.
2
Emma’s eyes widened as awareness penetrated her under-caffeinated state, and her brain registered her fashion slipup. She hadn’t intended to wear that, especially not in the presence of her family. They were all there in the kitchen, frowning over their oatmeal and the dreadful green tea. Perhaps they wouldn’t notice? Maybe she could hide behind Kaley and the swell of her slight baby bump?
Emma peered at the royal blue and white jersey she’d tossed on in the middle of the night. When Ben graduated high school, he’d given her his cherished Warriors’ hockey jersey. Only the display of team spirit she was currently wearing had the wrong player number. It wasn’t her brother’s. It was Evan’s. Because Kaley, like any bestie would do, had made the trade in the name of love. It was horribly embarrassing to admit how badly Emma had wanted to cuddle Evan’s jersey to her tender young heart way back then. Oh, how she had missed him when he went away to college. The jersey had been all she had left to remember him by. Emma folded her arms over the giant thirty on her chest, hiding the foolish youthful drama. She needed to run upstairs and change into something safe. Anything that didn’t scream, Once upon a time, I had it bad for Evan Heartley.
“I was cold. It was warm. I under-packed for bed,” Emma explained, gesturing to the inch of pink silk nightgown that poked out from under the athletic top, proving her point. She hoped Ben didn’t spot the number exchange, but this was hockey in the Land of Hockey. He and Evan had been a big deal. Hockey heroes. Evan still was. Emma clutched the jersey’s V-neck and stole a glance through her lashes.
Ben’s face did a thing.
Crud-muffins! Emma glanced at her momma, then to Ben. Please, if you love me, don’t say anything. If her momma caught on, she’d twist it into proof that Emma was lonely in California and in dire need of a husband. Which she’d finagle into arranging blind dates for Emma during her stay. After all, there were future grandbabies on the line.
Kaley made an unladylike snort.
Fourteen years later, their jersey swap might finally bite Emma in the caboose. She could fess up to her mild schoolgirl crush (massive mad love) for Evan. Heck, who didn’t have a tiny (all-consuming) longing for the sexy hockey star (so dreamy). Besides, they were all grown up now, and the puppy love was history (stick a fork in it, done).
As if her momma had ESP for detecting romantic thoughts, she asked, “Emma dear, are you seeing anyone? Someone new?”
“No.”
“Occasionally dating?”
“Momma, I’m focusing on my career.” Besides, when it came to men, she seemed to lack that chemistry vibe her girlfriends giggled and gossiped over. Nobody made her swoon. Emma must have outgrown it. She tried. She’d had boyfriends. Two with sexy times, but there was always something missing. Either that, or she wasn’t cut out for a happily ever after.
“The holidays are a romantic time of the year,” Momma said, her tone full of hope with a hint of manipulation.
“Mistletoe.” Kaley winked.
Emma grinned over their inside joke and the foolish things they’d done way back when. Mistletoe indeed.
“I stashed some in the mudroom.” Her mother wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m afraid it’s too exciti
ng for Daddy’s condition this season.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Daddy huffed. He rose and clasped a palm on Ben’s shoulder. “Thanks for the checkup.”
Emma watched Ben put his equipment away. She felt one-upped in the medical profession. Silly, since she was the sibling who had followed in Daddy’s footsteps. But Daddy had cut an easy path for her, and as a result, Emma still felt the need to prove her worth.
Ben rose. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”
Kaley whispered in his ear, earning a smirk and an elbow squeeze.
What was that about? Emma had a weird sensation. Like she was the outsider. She’d been away too long.
Emma gave Ben a quick hug on his way out the door. The simple contact was a comfort she’d missed.
Momma turned her ear toward the stairway and waited for the sound of the bedroom door to click closed behind Daddy. She then reached into her jeans pocket and produced packets of instant coffee granules hidden under the bulk of her cable-knit sweater. “We’ll make do.”
“This is sneaky wrong.” Emma waited for her momma to tear into the crappy packet of bliss.
“So, you don’t want coffee?”
It wasn’t a large mocha latte, but these were desperate hours. “Hand it over.” Emma grinned and palmed the caffeinated goods. “And the doughnuts?”
Momma opened the oven door to reveal a yellow box. “First, tell me about your love life.”
“Momma!”
“Well, I want you to be happy.” Momma hid the sweets behind her back.
“I am. I don’t desire a love life.”
“Now you’re talking nonsense, young lady. You should get back on the horse. Date.”
“I don’t need a horse,” Emma said with a sulky tone, then she squared her shoulders because showing weakness here was not a wise idea.
“Skip the horse. Ride the cowboy.” Kaley bounced her brows, and Momma handed her the pastry box as if to reward her support of the man-seeking advice. Kaley quickly made a selection, took a bite, and moaned with doughnut—or cowboy—delight. It was tough to tell the difference.
Emma shot her an exaggerated tight-lipped frown that said, “No riding cowboys talk in front of my momma.”
“Ride him all night long,” Kaley drawled with a grin, being a terrible friend who Emma couldn’t help but love. “Be sure to use protection.” She patted her tummy.
Momma nodded. “Emma, you should have a handsome man who treats you right. I’d be happier knowing you had someone to support your dreams. Never underestimate the value of a good man at your side. Would it be so dreadful to ride a nice, financially sound cowboy, err, fellow?”
Did her mother just instruct her to ride a guy? Did she realize what she was saying?
“A hot cowboy is what you need.” Kaley stuffed another bite in her mouth.
“What I need is hot water.” Emma poured her tea in the sink, dumped the coffee packet into her cup, and topped it off with steaming liquid from the kettle. “Momma, I can’t believe you’d suggest I… I…” Momma didn’t talk this way.
“Go for a ride? With a man,” Kaley supplied and bounced her brows. “All night long.”
Emma turned to her momma. “What about shotgun weddings and good girl values?”
“I’m pro weddings.”
“The moms have loosened up some since I got preggers. It turns out that they are desperate for grandbabies and sons-in-law. Be careful who you ride,” Kaley said. A wicked smile slipped over her face and she began to hum Big and Rich’s country music hit “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.”
“Stop.” Emma chuckled over the absurdity and reached for a pastry. This was not how she’d envisioned her peaceful morning at home. “I want to concentrate on my career first. After I secure my partnership, then I’ll consider dating. Please, no more ride talk.”
“Yeehaw.” Kaley licked powdered sugar off her thumb. Then, when Momma was busy at the sink, her back to the room, Kaley mouthed the words, “Take that off,” and stabbed a finger toward the jersey. “Now!”
Emma didn’t see the point anymore, as her momma hadn’t noticed the number, but Emma was thrilled to escape the what-you-need-is-a-man-to-ride topic. She jerked up the slouched knee socks and stepped away from the call of the doughnuts. It could wait. “I’m going to get changed.”
“Oh, look at the time!” Momma studied her watch. “Go like this, dear.” She raked and fluffed her fingers through her pixie cut.
“Why? Is there something in my hair?”
“And this.” Kaley ran her teeth over her lips.
“Did I get it?” Emma touched her mouth. “Never mind. I’m getting dressed.”
“Be quick!” Kaley called.
Emma was in the entryway and two steps from the staircase when the doorbell sounded.
The dog went mental over the buzzer. “Frenchie,” Momma warned.
Emma patted at her hair. She wasn’t dressed for this. With her hand on the knob, she peeked over her shoulder.
Kaley appeared, waving her arms, shaking her head no.
Too late. Emma had yanked open the door.
Frenchie’s crazed howl turned into a doggy sigh. Even the dog wasn’t immune.
Evan Heartley stood there on her parents’ stoop looking every inch the NHL’s sexiest star.
Emma drank in the sight. How many years had it been? His rich dark hair was shorter than she remembered, his eyes just as mesmerizingly blue. They sparkled like a summer lake on a hot sunny day and beckoned the naughty pleasure of skinny dipping.
The dimple on his cheek appeared.
Her girly parts tingled as if controlled by the dimple. This can’t be happening—again.
“Nice number.” He grinned, staring at her chest.
Emma made an incoherent sound and felt her socks pool at her ankles. Her vision swiveled downward to be certain she hadn’t lost any other undergarments as a side effect of that panty-smoldering smile.
“Your mom said you’re in need of a ride.”
What? Emma’s gaze snapped to his and she felt her heart spasm. “And just like that, here you are?” Her voice came out a high-pitched squeak.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Speechless, Emma held her breath and nodded dumb. Hockey player, cowboy, close enough. I should shower first…and pull on something lacy…and… Wait! Momma set this up? This was too much. Ridiculous even by her momma’s standards. “I appreciate you offering to help me out during my…dry spell…” she croaked, brimming with nervous shock and foolishly pointing to her girly area where the sexy times happen, “…but seriously?” She wished she could take that last crazy gesture back.
There was a gasp. Emma wasn’t sure if it was hers or his. It was possibly a collective gasp. Did she just say and do what she’d said and done? It was mortifying. Evan had never looked more stunned.
She turned when her mother approached. “Momma, you’ve gone grandbaby crazy. Over the top. Even for you.” Emma swung the door closed. This had to stop. Her stomach didn’t feel so good, humming and jumping with conflicting emotions. For years her desire for Evan had mellowed, settled into something manageable, and just like that, bam—hello, big tingle.
“You shut Evan out.” Her mom stood stunned.
Kaley clamped a fist over her grin, but the laugh broke through. “Howdy, cowboy. Giddy-up and yeehaw. Did you catch the expression on Evan’s face? Priceless!”
Emma’s stomach sunk. Her skin prickled. How could this be happening?
“…how his mouth fell open, and…” Kaley babble-laughed something and ended with, “I can’t believe you said that. The best miscommunication ever!”
It was a mistake. A horrible misunderstanding. Emma pressed her rear end to the door. The hard wood supported her weak gone-to-jelly knees.
“What is Kaley talking about?” Her momma looked between them. She held a sprig of mistletoe.
“Evan offered to give me a ride.”
“So? You don’t enjoy driving D
addy’s truck, and I require my car.”
“Momma, the conversation from earlier, in the kitchen, led me to jump to the wrong conclusion.” Emma chewed her lip. “Sorry about the baby comment.”
Her momma frowned. “That was quite the outburst, but I still don’t understand…what happened?”
“Emma just accused my brother of offering her a sexy cowboy kind of ride.”
“Oh, my! Honey, Evan is here to take you to the veterinary clinic.”
“Right.” Emma squeezed her eyes shut and replayed the scene in her mind. “What about the hair fluffing? The primping in the kitchen?”
“You didn’t look very good is all.” Momma twirled the sprig of mistletoe and fixed a nervous look at the closed door.
“Mistletoe? Momma, you can’t be serious!”
Momma tucked it behind her back. “Perhaps we should hold off on greeting the boy with too much enthusiasm. You don’t think of Evan that way, do you?” she said, then lowered her voice, “Or are you disappointed in the ride?” Momma wiggled her hips in a bouncy polka-inspired suggestive dance that should be illegal. In every state.
“Noooo. No way. That would be weird.”
“Right.” Kaley grimaced. “A Heartley-Gains sexy-times relationship would be super weird.”
“Is he still there?” Momma asked.
Emma took a deep breath, placed her palm on the door, and looked through the peephole. “Yep.” Her knees wobbled. She would never live this down.
Evan stood, stunned-still, breathing in the scent of ruffled pine. The welcoming holiday wreath swung to a crooked stop on the Gains’ front door.
Emma had locked him out.
She had stammered some crazy stuff. Dry-spell help…babies. Zonal pointing to her body parts, indicating that Emma meant sex, and she wasn’t happy about it. Not one bit. He’d laugh if it weren’t terrifying. Evan ran his hand through his hair and glanced at his truck where it idled in the driveway, ready to ride.
Had he propositioned Emma? When she’d opened the door, he’d taken in the sight of his friend and thought—WOW. Then it got nuts.