by Angie Wilder
6
By Thursday, Emma’s return home had settled into a comfortable routine. She spent her days at the clinic with Evan, and her evenings catching up with her family and Kaley.
Emma stifled a yawn. After work, she had helped Momma put up the last of the outdoor Christmas lights along the porch rail. Then she’d warmed up in Daddy’s study, filling him in on the clinic’s day-to-day operations. To Emma’s relief, both Daddy and Evan were open to her incorporating her specialized field of veterinary medicine. She’d gone outside treatments offered at the clinic when she made a chiropractic adjustment on a standard-sized Dachshund. With that weight off her shoulders, she settled in for the evening’s activity.
Tonight, it was the Wild versus Stars hockey game, the Gains and Heartleys gathered around ESPN. To her rotten luck, Emma got stuck on the sofa crammed thigh to thigh with Evan. She would have preferred to avoid the tight proximity of his sizable frame, but for as long as she could recall, the kids had claimed the couch. Kaley leaned against Emma’s right side, and Ben took the opposite end. The dads stationed themselves in the easy chairs, leaving the parson chairs carried in from the dining room for the moms. No one griped a bit about four grown adults sharing a three-cushioned couch.
It had been years since Emma or Evan had watched a Wild game with the families. Last season, Evan played as the Wild’s right wing. The thought did weird things to her heart. Friendly concern only. She would not lose her head over him again. The rogue flutter slipped in because of his splendid body pressed to hers, and the temperature was set to scorch. Overheated, she tugged at the collar of her cashmere turtleneck.
Evan wore faded jeans and a gray T-shirt dressed down with a five o’clock shadow. His right sock had a hole in the toe, and he smelled like the mini peppermint candy cane he crunched. Proper wintertime clothing would be something with sleeves. Emma didn’t want to view his biceps. Nor be privileged to his minty breath. How was it possible for him to look sexy dressed that way? The dark stubble framing his jaw brought out the blue in his eyes. It was irritating.
She wiggled in her seat, scooting for an inch of space. Evan shifted and lifted his arm, placing it along the back of the sofa. The light scent of cedarwood and man washed over her. She wasn’t unaffected. Emma crossed her legs to control the ache and risked a peek at the source of her frustration. Evan gave her a curious grin, which only made things worse. It drew her in and made her burn. The kitchen timer buzzed, and Emma came back to her senses. She’d nearly lost her mind and buried her nose in his shirt for a good inhale. She was certain she could get delightfully high sniffing Evan. Saved by the bell, Emma shot off the sofa, tripping over his legs, as she used the excuse to escape. Good heavens, she’d almost huffed the man up in front of their families.
Momma was already in the kitchen, peeking into the oven. “Needs a few more minutes. What do you think, Kaley?”
Kaley had followed Emma’s lead and stood by the range, examining the dish. She wrinkled her nose.
Emma walked through the room and yanked open the backdoor. “Holy cow, I am so hot.” She stuck as much of her body out the door as she could manage without stepping stocking-footed into the snow. “Is there steam rolling off me? How did we squeeze together like that for years?”
“You never minded before,” Kaley drawled.
As kids, Emma used to seek the spot next to Evan, but that was then, not now. Emma didn’t respond. Kaley was skating on thin ice, making a comment like that in front of Momma. Kinda like giving Momma that photograph of her and Evan. The day-of-the-mistletoe-kiss pic, which she was now reminded of every blasted time she passed the reception desk at work. Only she hadn’t kissed Evan. She’d gotten trapped by her own plotting and ended up with Dexter Thompson, a brainy kid who had figured out her plan. So she’d struck a deal with Dexter, a small kiss in exchange for him keeping his mouth shut about her crush on Evan.
“Shut the door, Emma, dear. You’re giving your cat the shivers.”
“Harry isn’t mine,” she grumbled, gathering the blanket of hair off the back of her neck. She drew one last blissful, refreshing breath before dropping her heavy locks.
“I don’t get why you’re so warm. I was right beside you, and I’m fine.” Kaley gestured to her bulky green Minnesota Wild hoodie. “If anyone is overheated, it should be me.”
“Can’t I just be hot?” Emma shut the door and spotted Harry rubbing himself against the oven.
Frenchie poked his round black-and-white head out from under a chair, risking exposure up to the tip of his ears. The rest of his body he kept undercover in case the naked devil slinked past. Harry had yet to convince Frenchie to be friends. The dog lurked, ducking out from under one piece of furniture to the next, staring down his visiting nemesis while Harry did something as outrageous as licking his foot. Because she’d had no success returning Harry to his owner, Emma took the sphynx to work and back. She scooped up the cat, and he curled into her warmth.
Kaley shouldered up to her and whispered, “Maybe it’s Evan making you hot?”
Like there was ever any doubt. Emma did not want to dwell on Evan’s hotness. He was the ruler she measured other guys against. They all fell short. It made giving up on men an easy-breezy accomplishment. She shouldn’t have even taken that bet in Paris. With her dried-up sex drive, she had an unfair advantage. At least it had been dried up at the time. Could it be possible that her libido had reincarnated like the phoenix had in a ball of fiery heat? One look at the hockey-hottie and it’s all burn-baby-burn.
“You know, your wingman? Your mom told my mom all about how you solicited Evan’s help to guard against romance. Sophie said you duped him into it.” Kaley rolled her eyes over that nugget of gossip.
“Duped?” Emma’s momma had been the instigator of the wingman idea. “What did Lisa say?” The whispered conversation brought back memories, a youthful feeling of déjà vu. Emma missed times like these with Kaley. Not this particular discussion topic, but the general concept of getting together, sharing silly private exchanges.
“The moms plan to organize an intervention if you acquire a second cat.” Kaley ran a fingertip over Harry’s velvety skin.
Emma snorted her disbelief. “Not my—”
The cat purred and tucked his forehead under Emma’s chin. The action caused her teeth to click together and cut off her protest.
Kaley laughed and then crossed the kitchen to help Momma check on the oven.
Emma moved to the counter where she set out a handsome emerald sweater for Harry. From her position, she could see into the family room. Ben and Evan sat with their elbows on their knees, watching the game. Then with a collective groan from the room, their backs straightened in united disappointment. Evan muttered over the penalty call and reached for the bowl of mini candy canes on the coffee table. He fished one out, unwrapped it, and bit off the hook. Then he planted his elbows back on his knees, fixated as his team skated in the attacking zone.
“You would have made that shot,” Ben said without turning away from the screen.
Her gaze strayed back to Evan. Did he miss playing? If he did, he didn’t let it show. Evan appeared as relaxed as any other sports fanatic viewing his favorite game. He’d transitioned well from right-wing line to veterinarian/wingman. The wingman position Evan seemed to be enjoying too much. He hadn’t kissed her again, but there were times she wondered if he would. Those times he had a glint in his eye that made her wonder if he knew her secrets.
Emma slipped the new sweater over Harry’s head, hoping the act would conceal the direction of her thoughts. She dressed the cat and admired how the color matched his eyes. “So handsome,” she cooed to the feline, then lifted her gaze back to the family room.
Evan had turned his attention away from the game and was watching her. Caught. He grinned.
She was the first to look away.
Kaley brushed up to Emma and whispered, “You are smiling at my brother.”
“I am not.”
&nbs
p; “And blushing. You’re still attracted to Evan.”
“No.” Why was Kaley so persistent? Emma was over the crush. That was old news.
“Are you one hundred percent sure?”
“Yes,” Emma ground out. “Whatever happened to Dexter Thompson?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
“What do you mean?” Kaley shook her head.
“You remember Dex the Pecks? And I’m not talking muscles.” It was the tiny peck-sized kiss he’d negotiated.
“Why?”
“I was just remembering that day, from the picture. How it all turned out. I got blackmailed into a kiss—”
“You know he actually has pecs now.” Kaley struck a bodybuilder pose.
“He does?” Emma tried to imagine it, but her brain wouldn’t go there. Tall, skinny, glasses…check. Beefcake, no way.
“Yeah. I bumped into Dex a while ago. Remember, I hired him to design an app?”
“What app?”
“For my catering business.” Kaley shot her an expression that scolded Emma over her recent distracted state. She had no recollection of Kaley’s app, which made her the bottom of the barrel as far as best friends went. “Anyway,” Kaley continued, “Dex is like one of those sexy nerds that only exist in the movies. You know, the scientist with a shy smile. Until he takes off his shirt, and it’s all glory praise the six-pack abs and get me a can of whipping cream.”
“Wow.” Emma hadn’t seen that one coming. “You didn’t call him Dex the Pecks to his face, did you?”
“He thought that was funny.”
“Really?”
“No hard feelings there. Dex felt sorry for you for, losing your cool and blubbering under the mistletoe. Since you now owe me forever for filling in with a proper kiss, everyone is happy.”
Emma went watery eyed over Evan, not Dexter. Besides, Kaley was more than happy to take a turn under the mistletoe. “He didn’t use the word blubbering, did he?”
“His app will help me make it big.” Kaley raised her voice to speak over the buzzer.
“What does big mean?”
“I will own this town.” She grabbed a serving platter. “One day all the parties will be mine.”
“Why don’t you start with serving these pizza bites,” Momma said, as she pulled a pan from the oven.
“We get pizza?” Emma asked, regarding Daddy’s strict diet. She hadn’t inquired what her momma was baking because she’d been scared for the future fate of all snacks.
“Your father threw a fit at the sight of my cauliflower crust flatbread recipe. He claimed it would give him another heart attack. So we are compromising.”
“With pizza?” Emma suspected her momma was more than thrilled to ditch the healthy crust.
“There are veggies on top.” She pointed to a mushroom surrounded by sausage. “Now take these napkins out with you.”
The break from being snuggled up against Evan’s delicious body ended. Emma returned to the couch and directed her attention toward the heated struggle for the puck along the boards. She’d get through this close contact like she always had. She would buckle down, clench her knees together, and hide her attraction.
Evan rocked his shoulder against her and, using a low tone only she could hear, said, “You were watching me.”
Her heart lurched, skipping a thud, and she fought the urge to press a hand to her chest, or do a drool check. Emma kept her focus on the game while contemplating an answer. A scant second spanned out like an eternity. She angled her lips toward Evan’s ear and countered, “You have that the wrong way around.”
“Do I?” The challenge hung in the air.
She could sense his gaze. Though it was tempting to ignore the question, she turned to face him. “Fine. I was checking on you. Are you okay?” She didn’t elaborate or mention his retirement.
“No.” He grinned. “The snacks are taking forever.”
“Hungry?”
“Starved.” He returned his attention to the game.
For a moment she had the odd impression he was flirting with her, but he had done nothing out of the usual. He was just being Evan.
He settled his arm along the back of the sofa, his warmth wrapped around her, and whispered, “I’m okay, Em. If I were playing, then I couldn’t be here with you.”
Evan glanced at the eleven-by-fourteen image of himself and Emma as he went by the front desk. Since Kaley had confided Emma’s schoolgirl crush secret, he had hunted for clues to confirm the story. Signs that Emma had once found him attractive. Or still did. He fought that nonsense about having a chance with Emma, though there was this shameful underlying desire that she still felt a spark. Nearly a week had passed since the staggering claim, and he worked to snuff out his curiosity. It hadn’t helped him shake off his growing attraction to Emma. He’d struggled to keep his thoughts in the friend zone since Emma had come home. It was going on two weeks and one cold shower.
Last night, sitting next to Emma, with her soft body pressed to his, his mind wouldn’t settle on the game. Before, when Kaley had inquired if he were interested in Em, his reply had been a quick “no.” But now he wasn’t so sure, which gave him a hell of a lot of concern. With Emma plastered up against his side, shooting him little glances, his heart rate had kicked up. His mind turned, wondering what those looks were about. At first, Emma had seemed nervous or flustered over the tight seating arrangement, so he’d extended his arm over the back of the sofa to give her space. But it had the opposite effect. She’d ended up cuddled closer, under his arm, and he’d realized just how perfect she fit there. Then the table had flipped. As the evening progressed, and she’d relaxed into him, his nerves had hummed to attention.
They hadn’t crossed paths all morning at the clinic. Evan figured he wasn’t the only one to suffer repercussions from their evening snuggle. He could still see the expression on her face when she realized she’d fallen asleep tucked against his chest.
Evan grinned, even though it wasn’t funny. He wasn’t certain what to think, but it was time to track Emma down and assess the fallout. Last night was the first time a woman had ever woken up in his arms and run like the devil was after her.
He followed the scent of spicy tomato sauce and found her in the break room.
Emma turned from the window, the cat hugged to her heart. The forecast called for a storm in the cities, but only an inch or two in Hillcrest. A few cottony flakes fell, adding ambiance to the winter landscape outside. She looked pretty framed by the window’s white light in a soft lavender sweater. The purplish color was striking against her strawberry blonde hair and brought out the blue in her blue-green eyes.
As he shrugged out of his lab coat, he said, “It smells like pizza in here.”
“Momma sent me with the leftovers.” She nodded to the microwave. “Please help eat them. There’s enough for both of us and Penny.” Em bent and put Harry on the floor.
Penny was the new temp worker holding down the reception desk. She was friendly, competent, and young.
“She likes you.” Emma’s lips curved, letting on her amusement. Penny was nineteen. Her gushing admiration would lead nowhere.
“There’s a lot to like.” Evan rubbed his knuckles on his chest. “Wouldn’t you say?” He hoped humor would get them back on track.
Emma yipped and almost dropped the dish she pulled from the oven. She set the pizza down, blew on her fingertips, and shot him a hard look. “Is this about last night?”
“I hope you aren’t avoiding me on purpose?”
“I gave you way too much ammunition. You’re going to tease me, I can feel it.”
That’s why she’d gone silent. “What would I have to tease you about?” He wiped a hand over his grin. Apparently, Em knew him well, and he couldn’t help himself.
She let out an exaggerated sigh, then carried the plate to the table, and sat. “I fell asleep during the Wild game.”
Evan pulled out a chair and joined her. He smirked, noticing how Em avoided the p
art where she lay on top of him.
“We were close to the end.” She shrugged and shoved a bite of sausage in her mouth.
“The end of the second period. There was another one to go,” Evan corrected. Emma had nodded off. In her sleepy state, his chest had made a convenient pillow. She’d sighed as she curled herself against him and pinned him to the corner of the couch. He could have gotten away, but it wasn’t a hardship to hold her. She’d looked cute and comfortable. He hadn’t had the heart to make her move. Though remaining still during a game was a first for him. Everyone else got a good chuckle. Em hadn’t woken until a last-second goal brought the room to their feet cheering. That is, everyone aside from her and him and the cat. Her eyes had fluttered open, and she’s peered up at him. The snuggle had come to an abrupt end.
“I’m sorry. I was tired. I didn’t mean to…” Emma’s cheeks turned a rosy pink.
“It’s fine. You rushed out of the room so fast I just wanted to make sure we’re okay.”
“And tease me?”
He shouldn’t crave her pretty blush. As he considered the crush, he studied the scrunched-up line on her forehead. He could tell that Em was less than enamored with him right now but coming around. Evan figured he could nudge her into a grin. “You should want to express your gratitude for my comforting kindness—”
“Ha!” She smirked. “What did you have in mind?”
Ah, there it was. He knew they were golden with that slight curve of her lips. Em was a terrible poker player. He tipped his head. “See that brownie on the counter? I believe it looks like an I’m-so-sorry-I-pinned-you-to-the-couch-last-night offering.”
“It’s chocolate.” She focused big wide eyes at him, suggesting he not go there.
“I like chocolate.” He set his elbow on the table. “Let’s arm wrestle for it.”
“Oh, that’s fair.” Em put her elbow on the table and placed her hand in his. She looked beautiful all riled up while she struggled to hide her smile.
“If it makes you feel better, Em, you weren’t the only one to pin me to the couch.”