Emma

by Angie Wilder

“Don’t worry about your dress size, Kaley,” Momma said and continued her shopping-day sales pitch. “You two girls have been the same size since diapers. Emma can model dresses for you. Narrow your choices. It’ll be fun.”

  “You’re right.” Kaley slipped her hand around Emma’s back and gave her a side hug. “Shopping with my bestie is a brilliant idea. I hadn’t considered going since nothing will fit, but with Emma’s help, it’ll be perfect.”

  Emma was relieved over her friend’s turnabout, but there had been a moment when Kaley looked off…scared.

  “Why are you frowning, Emma? What did Evan send?” Kaley tipped the screen to see the message. A relaxed expression had replaced the concern.

  Emma blinked, momentarily forgetting about the game, then noticed that Kaley and Momma were waiting. She read the title, “Do They Know It’s Christmas,” and sighed over the song meant to bring aid to Africa. “Can Evan make this any harder? What happened to snowmen and silly reindeer games? It’s “Feed The World.” What are we going to do with this?” Emma texted Evan a flirtation-free annoyed emoji, then hit play.

  “You brought in reinforcements,” he accused.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. Kaley.”

  Emma rounded on Kaley and asked, “Does Evan know you’re here?”

  “My curiosity got the best of me.” She smirked, looking pleased with herself. “You held out over the devil-cat. We’ve texted.”

  “Some friend.” Kaley was her secret weapon in the game.

  “Best friend.” She grinned, then whispered in Emma’s ear, “Evan. Dinner. You’re wearing a sexy blouse…”

  Whatever came out of Kaley’s mouth next, Emma prepared to deny. Sure she was having fun, but anything more than friends wasn’t in the cards, so why make it a thing.

  “I got an idea,” Kaley announced.

  An idea? About Evan? This could be worse than she imagined. Emma’s heart kicked.

  “There are zebras in Africa!” Kaley wiggled around the kitchen in a premature victory dance. “We’ll make a zebra for the song game.”

  “That’s it?” Emma expected at least one meddlesome question ferreting out feelings for Evan. They were best friends, and men were a critical, thoroughly analyzed subject.

  Kaley grinned and shimmied, letting Emma off the hook. She was also acting a fool over zebras—the dance-worthy answer to starvation in Africa.

  Emma tried to force a grimace over her giggle, and said, “Zebras? That’s so enlightened.” Some secret weapon. “The song is about a good cause.”

  Kaley bumped her booty against Emma’s, coaxing her into the dance. “Hello? It’s an animal, Evan’s a vet. It has stripes like a hockey referee—aka zebra. Plus, we can whip this up with a box of Rice Krispies, a bag of marshmallows and some chocolate frosting.” She boogied to the pantry.

  “I like it,” Momma said, while also getting her groove on. “Kaley, call your mom over. Lisa won’t want to miss this.”

  “You two are ridiculous, but you’re the worst.” Emma pointed at Kaley.

  “Back off, cat lady. We’re doing this.” Kaley picked up her phone.

  Emma rolled her eyes, swayed her hips, and grinned until it hurt.

  Exhausted, with the house fully stocked with sprinkle-coated cookies, Emma closed her bedroom door behind her. Harry curled into his spot at the foot of the bed while she changed her clothes. Evan’s jersey was becoming a bad habit, but with the lightweight sleepwear she’d packed, what other choice did she have to stay warm and cozy?

  The night’s song game, after ganging up with Kaley against Evan, had ended in a hard-fought tie. The impromptu fun was a holiday memory Emma would cherish always. Before she’d retired for the night, she’d shaped a small music note from a scrap of aluminum foil and hung it on the tree. A symbol of their silly treasured time together. A keepsake of home.

  Her phone chimed from where it lay on her dresser. Evan.

  Emma gathered her cell and crawled onto the mattress. Fatigued, but never too tired for Evan, she snuggled into the soft blankets and read, “All I Want For Christmas Is You.”

  Her heart slammed into her ribs. The man had NO IDEA WHAT HE WAS DOING TO HER. Of course, it was just another song title, but for a second, he’d rocked her world.

  “Saved the best for last,” he said.

  Breathe, she thought, realizing she wasn’t.

  “Night, Em. On the count of three, press play.”

  “Oh, geez.” She smiled when the opening notes of her favorite holiday song tinkled out then swelled, filling the room with a rocking good beat. As her grin grew, she kicked off the covers. With a tickle in her belly, she danced on her back, stocking feet in the air, arms swinging to the rhythm. She didn’t care how foolish she looked; there was nobody to watch her celebrate an excellent evening with the upbeat love song. The moment felt like a wish come true.

  It was a good thing they were done with their game. Imagine coming up with a photo response to this one. She danced on. Her mind wouldn’t let go of the puzzle and the answer she didn’t dare reply. Emma grinned and hummed, and…oh what the heck…just for herself. She tapped the camera icon in the text window, held up her phone, puckered her lips in a kiss, and snapped the selfie. She snorted over her antics and examined the results. Her eyes were glossy, her hair spilled over the pillow with her head tilted just enough to give off a coy I-want-you vibe. If the song was a question, the answer was “come and get it.” At the music’s end, Emma jostled around, yanked up the covers, and her phone made the whoosh sent sound. Her heart squeezed, realizing she must have accidentally touched send. She’d had every intention of deleting that picture.

  “No!” She peeked at the screen, confirming her error. Body parts went full throb.

  “No!” She clutched the blankets to her chest. Her eyeballs felt glued to the screen. Especially the part were Evan’s old jersey showed in the photo. She pressed her head into her pillow, stared at the ceiling and muttered, “What have I done?”

  Ping. Evan’s response waited.

  “Have mercy.” Emma was scared to look. Her heart couldn’t take this much excitement. Flutters of attraction were supposed to be dormant, set aside, of no use to her big life plans. Not go full throttle, ache. It was a tremendous pain in the behind right now. She twisted, turned on her side, and peered through one eye, reading the text.

  “You win, Em.”

  Ping. Kiss emoji.

  Evan blew her a kiss! She squeezed her eyes shut, grinning, her cheeks still hot with embarrassment, savoring the moment. “It’s only a game,” Emma reminded herself. With her phone tucked to her heart, she drifted off to sleep. She’d worry about her brazen actions tomorrow.

  9

  Forbidden ideas nipped at Evan’s imagination. That flirtatious bedtime photo Emma had sent had kept him up into the night. Hell, the whole evening had been one big flirtation disguised as horsing around. The Gains’ kitchen had turned into a girl party, yet Em had continued their texting game. She’d sent him plenty of winks and hearts as playful replies—and if winks and hearts counted as hugs and kisses, they had seriously made out. Evan had waited until Emma was alone to send her the last song title, “All I Want For Christmas Is You,” a deliberate move to test the waters. Turned out that the water proved damn hot. Her photograph was one sexy reply.

  Emma was his friend, but could they, or should they, try for more? The situation was complicated. He needed to tread carefully.

  He was eager to get to the office early. Evan headed out of the house, pressing the button for the garage door, while he pocketed his phone. As he rounded the rear bumper of his truck, he squinted against the sunlight and the pretty blanket of white that covered the ground. During the night, the rainstorm had shifted to snow. Evan zipped up his coat. He hadn’t noticed the weather, with his mind preoccupied with a different beauty.

  At the bottom of his sloped yard lay a patch of green and red. Winds had knocked the evergreen swag off his mailbox.
Evan stepped out on his driveway, aiming to right the holiday adornment.

  Busy debating the soft, hot feelings that filled his chest, he barely noted how his feet shifted on the ice hidden beneath the thin blanket of snow. Had he fallen for Emma? Evan shortened his stride, taking care with his slippery footing.

  Had he read too much into Emma’s selfies? Her puckered up goodnight kiss got his blood running. He freaking loved her sexy come-and-get-me expression, but was it all in fun? She’d worn his jersey to bed. Again. What did that mean?

  Damn, it was slippery treading. Evan held out his arms for balance.

  He’d hit a pressure point mulling over this attraction. Why had Emma gotten dolled up for their dinner? Was her sexy blouse for his benefit? Evan was looking for signs. An indication he should go for it with Emma. Take the leap.

  Before he finished contemplating the thought, he was airborne. His heart raced with a burst of adrenaline as he stared up at the bright blue sky. His arms flung out wide, then his ass spanked against the frozen ground. At a breathtaking pace, he traveled down the hill. Snow shot up the back of his coat. He gritted his teeth and scrambled for purchase. Cold flakes sprinkled his face, arching up from the rooster tail wake he plowed. He pressed his arm against the driveway, slowing the ride.

  He’d been thinking of Emma and been swept off his feet when he wasn’t paying attention.

  Midway down the drive, he rolled onto his hands and knees. At a stop, he lifted his head and scanned the quiet street for possible onlookers. The colossal wipeout was embarrassing for any guy, but he wasn’t just anyone, he was NHL. He owned the ice. The backward spread-eagle number was a tough one to live down.

  Old Mr. Thorson headed Evan’s way, striding along as if it weren’t as slippery as an oiled pig outside. Thorson was a nice guy and pushing eighty years old. It was a miracle he was able to walk down the icy road.

  Evan shifted his weight to his feet and crouched with his fingertip braced to the slick surface. The layer of light snow had made it slipperier than ever. His pride taunted him to try a ballsy attempt at vertical. Evan concentrated on the task and found some success on the slick slope. But the lofty goal was not in the cards. He kissed the ground and rode the rest of the way down on his belly. If he’d been paying attention earlier, he’d have known better. At least worn boots with some tread.

  “Impressive.” Mr. Thorson came to a stop where the driveway flattened out and met the street. He clutched a bouquet of pink flowers cocooned in bubble wrap and chuckled down at Evan.

  Evan kneeled and brushed the snow from his hair. “Just shaking things up,” he said, grimacing over the sight he presented and wondering how the old man could travel down the road without risking a hip.

  “I got my golf shoes on,” Thorson said, anticipating the question. “Works like a charm, though my feet are cold as iron. It’ll be worth it.”

  “Worth what?” Evan’s gaze moved from the senior’s stud-bottomed wingtips, up his fleece-lined canvas pants and flannel wool coat, and to his hat with the fluffy ear flaps before taking in the well-protected flowers.

  “I’m visiting my sweetheart. Gale Swan, the lady down the road with the white picket fence. I’m sweet on her, and I figure this will earn me her affections.” He waved his gift.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea going out in this mess.” The day was beautiful but dangerous, at least a half inch of trouble lay under the oily snow. Evan gripped the mailbox and managed to stand upright.

  “That’s the whole point. Now my lady has a story. A ‘remember when.’ This is the day of the Big December Ice Storm, and I will be the hero who made the treacherous walk to woo his girl and bring her flowers. It’s a grand gesture. Roses are delightful, but this is memorable. It makes it an occasion. Not because I have to, but because I want to. I saw the weather coming and prepared for the wooing opportunity. This is…” He squinted down the road toward his love’s house.

  “A remember-when story.” Evan finished the thought.

  “Exactly!” The man’s eyes twinkled. “Young people have forgotten the art of romance. If you have a lady to impress, today is the day. Big points. But if you plan to get down on one knee, make it look intentional.” He pointed to the path Evan had plowed down the driveway using his body.

  “Thanks for the advice.” Evan chuckled, watching his neighbor walk away, the sound of his shoe spikes crunching into the ice.

  “Big points.” Evan shook his head over the day’s power for wooing.

  It was also a good day for his dad’s Tow and Go to make big money pulling cars out of the ditch. Evan figured his truck could handle the roads, but how would Emma get to the clinic? He didn’t like the idea of her car sliding off the road. The ice was everywhere. Everywhere, he realized, and an idea formed.

  A woo-worthy solution. An excellent remember-when story. One that would put Emma in his arms. Did he dare? A grin tugged at his lips as Evan contemplated taking the leap. A little wooing couldn’t hurt.

  Emma answered the front door to find Evan standing there. He wore a smile that made his dimple show, his eyes twinkle, and her stomach flip-flop.

  “Morning, Em.” His voice floated over her, like her bedtime prayer, and there was a devilish-dare vibe about him.

  She pressed her hand to her stomach. Her mind raced to reason why Evan was there. Emma hoped with all her might that it wasn’t because of that come-hither accidental selfie she had texted him. Yesterday she’d fallen into the fantasy of a night with Evan. Look where that got her. She sent him a photo that exposed her desire for him. Would he call her out on her crush? Make her confess to a severe case of scorching hot want right here in the entryway of her parents’ home? If so, things were about to become awkward.

  Or had he shown up to get his jersey back? The horror! Emma tugged at the collar of her sweater dress while she contemplated her predicament. The silence lengthened, and his grin went crooked.

  “Em?” His eyebrow curved, lifting upwards.

  Emma struggled to locate her voice. Minutes ago, while she’d yanked on heavy leggings and readied for work, she had sung along to Mariah’s love-proclaiming Christmas song, her fruitless attempt to purge its stimulating effects from her system. The looping replay had nothing to do with her basking in a minute of heaven. Okay, that was a lie, but she was done with swooning. No more flirting. Besides, it was hard to conjure up sweet words to lure him to her heart when she was tongue-tied. Since their picture game last night, emotions had rolled over her, an exotic mix of delusional amorous delight and absolutely terrifying embarrassment. That last bit had a painful grip on her now. Emma cleared her throat, forced her shocked why-are-you-here and please-don’t-call-me-out-on-making-a-pass-at-you expression into a smile, and asked, “Did you come to give me a ride?”

  A huge grin split his face. “Define ride?” he drawled.

  Her stomach sunk. Oh, lord. Not that provocative ride-a-cowboy business again? Her skin still burned over her misinterpretation of his innocent ride offer. Wait… define? She glanced up at him. Up being the key word. He seemed taller than usual. That’s when she noticed the hockey skates. Pointing at his feet, she asked, “What’s going on?”

  “I thought we’d have some fun on the way to work. I’m not sure if this means of transportation counts as giving you a ride.” Evan’s eyebrows bounced up and down as he held out a pair of white skates.

  How had she not spotted them and the backpack draped over his shoulder? Probably because he was radiating a stimulating type of energy that was tying her in even more knots.

  “They’re Kaley’s.”

  Emma pointed at the skates. “But why?”

  “Why not, Em?” He took a step closer and continued to explain, “There’s a solid layer of ice on the ground.”

  The nearness of Evan rattled her in delicious ways. She crossed her arms over her middle, fighting the attraction, and focused on the innovative transportation situation. “Let me get this straight, you skated over here? All the
way from your house to mine? And now we are skating to the clinic? Together?”

  “Yep.”

  His hair was damp where it framed his face and windblown in a manly he-just-exerted-himself-for-her-benefit way. Evan looked yummy (in a platonic friend way, she reminded herself). He also appeared a hundred percent serious. Emma didn’t wish to disappoint, but… “You realize I’m not any good at this.”

  “You’ll be good with me. I promise.” Evan’s smile widened.

  He was distracting her again with that darn dimple. How she’d love to run a finger over that happy spot and hold his hand while they skated.

  Then he winked.

  This is dangerous. That laundry list of emotions Emma suffered from ignited. Desire smoldered. The man had no idea how he affected her. In an effort to manage her composure, she made a swift nod of agreement and seized the skates. Flustered, she whirled back to the house and smacked face-first into the door frame. “Uff.” She teetered on her heels and lightly touched the center of her forehead. She would have to avoid her third-eye acupressure meridian point for a while.

  “Em?” Evan took her by the arms as he turned her toward him. “Are you okay?”

  “Um.” She was in his embrace. How was she supposed to identify if she was okay or not? She might have a lump the size of a unicorn horn, and she wouldn’t feel a thing beyond swooning for Evan. He stood delightfully close, those deep blue eyes studying her as his concerned gaze sunk into her soul. Sigh.

  “It doesn’t look too bad.” His fingertips replaced hers as he gently smoothed her bangs away for a better view. “A little red. Does it hurt if I touch it?”

  “It’s good. Feel free to continue touching,” Emma whispered, dizzy from the contact. Her gaze slipped to his lips. They were the perfect bow shape, full but not too big. They parted and moved as he spoke her name like a question. She tipped her chin toward his mouth. So lovely. And within reach.

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. “I’m only embarrassed.” She skipped away from Evan, moving out of his grasp, taking care not to rush into the door casing this time. Could she be more idiotic? How did she go from striking her stupid head against the house to almost crashing her wanton lips against his? She’d been halfway sold on going for it, ready to succumb to her heart and seal the deal. Evan had broken the spell when he inquired over her welfare. No, she wasn’t all right. Her desires were out of line and out of control. “I can’t believe I walked into the door frame. I’m fine. Mostly stunned with mortification.”