One More Kiss: Sweet Hart Inn (A Harbor Falls Romance Book 14)

by Sophie Jacobs

  He nodded, looked to his feet, shuffled back and forth for a second or two, and then lifted his face to look back into her eyes. “Had to get out of Harbor Falls,” he said.

  She well knew how that felt.

  “And I’m not ready to go back yet,” he added quickly. “I know it’s late, but I’ve not had lunch yet. Want to grab something to eat?”

  Emma blinked, thought about that for a brief moment, and thought, why not? She had time. “Sure. Come to think of it, I’ve not had lunch either. Sounds good to me.”

  ****

  What in the world am I doing?

  Calm down, Will. It’s lunch. With one of your colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. Yes, of course, it is adult conversation and companionship. Something you’ve been craving for a while.

  It’s Emma. Quirky, funny, Emma, who teaches fourth grade in your school. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Then why are those big green eyes of hers looking at me like that?

  Because you are stupidly giving her that same look back. Stop it, man. Now.

  “Where shall we go?” he eked out.

  Emma glanced about. She twisted away from him slightly, her blonde, shaggy hairstyle flipping as she did so. “Well, over there is Hooters.” She turned back and flashed a wicked smile. “You should like that.”

  He didn’t want to think about hooters of any sort at the moment, since his jeans were getting a bit tight just standing there looking at her. He looked off in the opposite direction. “And there is Jane’s Diner over there. How about that?”

  Safe. A family diner was safe. Right?

  She shrugged and gave him an awkward smile. “Sure.”

  He motioned that way, and she stepped in beside him as they took the short walk across the parking long. He held the door for her as they went in, and she, again, gave him a tentative smile, one that he didn’t quite know what to do with.

  Was she just being friendly? Had she ever even once given him a “come-on” look or lingering glance? He didn’t think so. She was pretty much all business at school, except when she let her hair down once in a while in the teachers’ lounge. She was great at cracking jokes to ease the tension, particularly around testing times when everyone was a bit “testy.”

  He’d known her for years but he couldn’t ever remember seeing her in a social situation outside of school. Was this lunch a first? He wracked his brain trying to recall.

  No. Other than get-togethers at other teacher’s homes, or at school events, this was it. Why?

  The answer was obvious. The “no dating teachers” rule was the reason.

  They were seated in a corner booth and Emma slipped in the far side. He sat opposite her and couldn’t take his eyes off her. She looked up at the woman handing out menus and smiled. He studied her cute upturned nose, lazily lingered over her profile, and sighed.

  Deep.

  Hell. This lunch was probably a mistake.

  “Sir?”

  He looked toward the chatty hostess. “Hm?”

  “Something to drink?”

  “Oh, sure. Iced tea is good.”

  “Sweet or unsweet?”

  “Oh, sweet, of course.”

  She nodded. “Two sweet teas coming up.” Then she left. He gripped his menu and stared straight across the table to Emma, who rattled on….

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you out of Harbor Falls, Will. All these years.” She popped open the menu, perused it for a moment, and then took a peek over the top. Will realized he’d not even looked at his yet and wondered if he should. Eventually. “It’s kind of like the kids, you know?” she started in again, “they think the teachers live at the school and are surprised to see them Ralph’s. Like they don’t belong there, or something, between the melons and the kale. Kind of like you and me, here, now, in Dalton Springs. Odd, huh?”

  His thoughts exactly, and he gave a slight chuckle. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  Emma brought the menu up closer to her face. “Oh, they have roast beef open-faced sandwiches. I shouldn’t, but…” She laid the menu down again. “Will, you don’t get out much, do you?”

  Immediately, he smiled and relaxed somewhat. This was Emma. Random and unexpected Emma. No worries. “Actually, no. I stick pretty close to home and school.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Really? That’s a shame.”

  Damned straight.

  “You didn’t grow up here, though.”

  He nodded. “No, but Harbor Falls is home now.”

  “And before?”

  “I grew up in Colorado.”

  Emma sat her menu down on the table with a slap. “I had no idea, Will. Man, you work with someone for years and the things you don’t know about them.”

  Time to remedy that. At least in your case, my dear.

  Shit. What was he thinking? Well, he was thinking that he did want to get to know her better, that’s what. Rules be damned.

  He shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know a lot about you, either, Ms. Baker.”

  She sat back against the padded booth. “Heck, Will. I’m pretty much an open book. Born in Harbor Falls. Live in Harbor Falls. Work in Harbor Falls. Story of my life.”

  The hostess returned with their tea. “Has ImaJean come to take y’alls order yet?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “Shoot. I’ll go get that girl.”

  Will watched her sashay away, and had it been any other time, he might have liked watching her sashaying backside, but at the moment he was totally and physically enthralled with the woman sitting across from him at the table.

  He leaned forward. “Harbor Falls is a great place. I came here after graduate school looking for an administrative position. No family left in Colorado and I just made Harbor Falls my home. I like it just fine. But it sounds like you don’t?”

  She stared at him for a moment. “Will, you should know me by now. I think big all the time, but I never act on it. I’ll likely never leave Harbor Falls, and well, you know, it’s probably because I am pretty happy here, if only I could just—”

  She brought that thought to a close real quick, and for the first time ever, Will sensed a little vulnerability in Emma Jo Baker. As her mouth snapped shut, cutting off her sentence in mid-stream, her eyes grew wider, and her face softened. And flushed.

  He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he wasn’t going to find out at that moment because ImaJean, their waitress, stepped up then to take their orders.

  “What can I get for y’all?”

  ****

  ImaJean towered over their table, and suddenly, Emma felt like a kid again. Sort of like she’d just gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar—or that she’d done something extremely embarrassing.

  Thing was, the only embarrassing thing she’d done at the moment was almost tell Will Craig, her boss, that she would be happier if she only had a husband. And kids. And the house with the picket fence and a carpool and Little League baseball and all that.

  Shit!

  She’d let her guard down way too much. Seeing Will out of context, away from the school and in his tight jeans, and sitting casually across from her while she ordered—sipping his tea while peering over his frosty glass—was a bit unnerving.

  Why? She had no clue. It was just…different.

  “Ma’am?”

  She glanced at ImaJean. “Open-faced beef sandwich,” she told her.

  “Hot or cold.”

  She grimaced. “Hot.” How else?

  “With gravy?”

  “Of course.”

  “Rolls or cornbread.” Geez. Too many decisions!

  “Rolls.”

  “Green beans or slaw?”

  Crap! “Slaw.”

  ImaJean looked at Will. “Sir?”

  He handed her the menu. “Ditto. Right down to the slaw.”

  ImaJean walked away, scribbling on her pad, and Emma sat back in her seat. “Whew!” Will grinned at her. For the longest moment, he just s
at and smiled her way. And for another long moment, she found herself completely entranced by looking into his eyes.

  Wow.

  This was a lot weird.

  Chapter Four

  The open-faced beef sandwiches came and went.

  They talked about school. And students. And pending snow.

  They shimmied around talking about nothing but those two subjects, so much so that Will was beginning to think he was boring as hell.

  No wonder he couldn’t get a woman. That’s why he said what he did next. “So what do you do for fun, Emma?”

  The look on her face, complete with saucer-round eyes, told him that he’d likely said the wrong thing. Shit. Was that a line? Like, hey baby, what’s your sign? Surely, no. Because the last thing he wanted to do was insinuate he had asked her to lunch as a pickup.

  “Fun? What’s that? I teach, remember? I stay up grading papers all night rather than hitting the bars.”

  The right corner of her mouth jerked up in a half smile, and she started shuffling around, picking up her purse, moving her silverware aside. She picked up her water glass and took a sip—all the while avoiding eye contact with him.

  Dammit. He’d made her uncomfortable.

  “Oh yeah. That’s right.” Stupid man.

  She glanced at her watch. Okay, there was the signal. “I think…” she started.

  He made an effort to look straight at the clock over the dining counter. “Oh hell. I need to get out of here. “I have this thing tonight.” He grabbed for the check about the same time she did, their fingers knifing together.

  “Oh!”

  “I’ll get this,” he said.

  “Oh, no. What’s my part?” She shuffled in her bag.

  “My treat.” Man, was she in a hurry. Well, so was he.

  “Then I have the tip.” She scooted to the edge of her booth seat.

  “Fine.”

  Those fingers he’d collided with earlier plunged deeper into her bag and pulled out a wad of bills. “There, that should do it,” she said.

  “I’ll go find ImaJean.”

  “You do that.”

  They stood, both of them, facing each other, jerking first one way and then that, followed by a momentary pause halting all the skitter-skatter.

  “I have a thing tonight too,” she blurted out.

  “I see.” But he didn’t. He didn’t want her to have a thing tonight, whatever kind of thing it was. “I’m off now,” he added.

  “Me too.”

  Will turned toward the counter, stopped, and glanced back.

  Emma evidentially had turned the opposite way because she was half-turned too, her gaze shooting over her shoulder. “Thanks for lunch,” she told him. “See you Monday.”

  He nodded, noting that her bottom lip was firmly embedded between her teeth. And for the first time ever, Emma Jo Baker looked, well, vulnerable.

  He gave her a wave. “Monday. I’ll be there to help with the gym.”

  She nodded and made her escape.

  Will sighed and watched her go, his shoulders finally relaxing.

  “I’ll take that for you,” a woman said in front of him.

  He handed the check and money to ImaJean.

  ****

  I have a thing tonight too.

  Man, how lame was that? Will must think her a total basket case.

  Halfway home during her thirty-minute drive to Harbor Falls, Emma finally exhaled. Normally her radio would have been blaring, she would have been singing, and her brain would have been ticking off all sorts of to-dos for her upcoming week.

  But not this day. And not during this trip.

  Something strange was going on with Will and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She wondered if he was overly stressed, or if the kids were finally getting to him or something because it was like he wasn’t concentrating at all on having a conversation with her.

  It was a thought she couldn’t get off her mind.

  It was unlike Will to be quiet, and several times during their lunch, the silence had filled the air between them in the booth. Of course, it was normally unlikely for her to be so quiet too, and that’s what got her to contemplate what was going on with Will, because she knew there was nothing wrong with her.

  It had to be him. He wasn’t holding up his end of the conversation.

  And it was like, well…it was like he was shy or something. This was not the Will Craig she knew. The leader of the school who could bark at middle schoolers on the lawn to get them back to their side of the playground, the man who took charge of their faculty meetings even when the teacher’s got rowdy. The guy who could sooth and sway an irate parent with the best of them.

  Will was way too quiet today, and for whatever reason it was bugging the hell out of her.

  Wait.

  But was it Will?

  Or was it really her? Had she done something? Said something? Felt something?

  Her heart clutched.

  “Dammit.” She had not felt anything. Nothing at all. Especially not when their fingers touched.

  No. When they’d touched, there was nothing.

  Definitely not a spark. Not even one twit of one.

  Swallowing hard, Emma stared ahead out of her windshield and looked at the gray sky, wondering how much snow was in their forecast and tried to forget that last notion altogether.

  No. No spark.

  “Liar.”

  ****

  A couple of hours later she approached the Victorian home that was Suzie’s bed and breakfast, Sweet Hart Inn. There was a sting of ice crystals in the air now, and a slant of sleet breaking through night. It was after eight o’clock in the evening but she had called ahead to Suzie and told her she was running a bit late. Suzie told her that was fine but to get there as soon as she could, weather and all. It had been dark for a couple of hours now and Emma wondered if she really should stay very long because of the weather.

  Of course, Suzie didn’t live too far from Emma. Nothing in Harbor Falls was that far away from anything. The Inn did sit on the edge of town, though, closer to the lake and the mountain, and for whatever crazy reason, storms were worse on this side of town.

  “I won’t stay long,” she muttered, gripping her bags tighter and stepping onto the porch. “Besides this is not going to work anyway. How could it?”

  She had little confidence that Suzie Matthews would find her a husband. It might have worked for Mary Lou Picketts and for Lyssa Larkin, but she held no false hopes that it would work for her.

  None. But hey, she got new clothes and a makeover out of the deal.

  Besides, she was just a little preoccupied with the notion of Will Craig, and wondered if she should explore that option a little more seriously. What was really going on between them this afternoon?

  With a sigh, she carefully approached the porch, watching for slick spots on the concrete sidewalk, and held onto the handrail as she ascended the steps. At the precise moment she raised her hand to rap on the red door trimmed in greenery, Suzie snatched it open with a smile and said, “Emma Jo! Come on in. We’ve been waiting for you!”

  It was the “we” that gave her a moment’s trepidation, and had she listened to those kinds of gut things that told her stuff was about to happen, she might have turned tail and ran.

  But she hadn’t.

  She forged ahead, her packages grasped to her chest, and crossed the threshold.

  Chapter Five

  “Emma! We’re so glad you could make it!”

  Shit.

  She glanced about. People.

  A couple here. A couple there. Everywhere a couple.

  A party?

  No. Please no.

  Over by the fireplace stood another couple, Suzie’s sister, Shelley—they were in the same class in school—and her husband, Matt. She’d heard Shelley had just delivered baby number three, a girl, recently, the first for her and Matt together. They were happy as clams, or looked to be. One happily Suzie-matched couple?
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  Brad Matthews, Suzie’s husband, headed toward his wife. They made couple number four. And then, coming in from the kitchen, was her best friend Annie, and her hunky hubby, Curt. Couple number five.

  Couples.

  Everywhere a couple.

  But she was a singleton.

  And damn her, Suzie said nothing about a party. Had she misunderstood? Did she come on the wrong night? Surely not, Suzie had said tonight.

  Annie rushed forward, took a couple of packages from Emma’s arms, and kissed her on the cheek. “I didn’t know if you were coming or not!” she exclaimed, and then turned to her husband. “Curt, can you take these things upstairs to the blue room? First door on the left.” Then giving Emma her full attention, she smiled. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Glad you are here.”

  Emma lowered her chin and her voice. “Annie, what the hell…”

  Annie grasped her arm and twisted away, dragging her toward the couple closest to the door. “There’s Nash and Mary Lou over there. You remember them, right?” She waved and Emma gave a little finger wave and grin back to the happy and recently married couple.

  Something didn’t feel right in her tummy.

  She turned back to Annie. “Tell me, please…”

  “Oh!” Annie exclaimed, this time dragging her by the elbow to her left. “I don’t think you know Jillian and Scott, do you? Jillian owns that new candy store, Bittersweets, downtown.”

  What the hell…

  She halted Annie, twirled her around, and then Emma did the leading off, pulling Annie toward the kitchen. Once they were behind the solid oak door of the room, she lit into her. “Of course I know Jillian, Annie. I met her at the Fall Festival a couple of months ago. But you are diverting me for some reason and now…” she faced her, square on, and took another half step closer to her friend, “tell me what is going on. I came here for a private consult with Suzie, and there is a party going on. A party where there are couples everywhere. And me? I’m not a couple. It’s obvious. Something is up, and I don’t like it. I don’t like being left in the dark, and you know that, so Annie, my dear friend, you need to tell me right this instant what in the world…”

  A man cleared his throat. The two women simultaneously whirled to their rear. There, standing by the coffee pot, stood Will Craig.