Enticing Emily

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Enticing Emily Page 9

by Gina Wilkins


  A sudden silence fell around the table. Emily felt her last bite of cola-basted ham lodge in her throat

  The only one who seemed oblivious to the awkward pause was Marvella, who drained half her glass of iced tea, set it down with a thump, and said, “I hope you aren’t selling because you’ve started worrying about the crime in Honoria.”

  Emily lifted an eyebrow. “Hardly,” she said a bit dryly. “We barely have any crime in Honoria, Marvella.”

  “What about all those houses that were robbed during the fall festival? And I hear there was another robbery two nights ago, while the family was at the junior-high football game. You doing anything about those, Chief Davenport?”

  “Everything we can, ma’am,” he answered patiently. “I have my two best officers investigating, and I’ve stepped up patrols as much as I can, considering our limited staff.”

  “Ask me, you should check out that youngest O’Brien boy. He’s as wild as they come. I just know he’s the one that’s been stealing traffic signs around here, and spray-painting all the nice buildings.”

  “We’re checking out all leads, Ms. Tucker. Whoever is doing this will get caught, I promise you.”

  Marvella nodded. “Good. And when you catch ‘em, you make sure they get more than a slap on the wrist, you hear? Let’em know we don’t put up with that nonsense in our town.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Wade agreed, his meek tone making Emily smile.

  “Tell me about your family, Mrs. McBride,” Wade said, quickly changing the subject. “You have three grown children?”

  Bobbie answered without hesitation. “Yes, a daughter and two sons. Tara, the eldest, is a tax attorney in Atlanta.”

  “Followed in her father’s footsteps, did she?” Wade asked with a smile directed toward Caleb.

  Caleb answered. “Oh, she’s no country lawyer like her old man. Tara graduated with honors from Harvard. She worked for a big firm in Atlanta for several years. Now she and a partner have gone into business on their own.”

  “She’s getting married next month,” Bobbie added, shaking her head with apparent bemusement. “To a private investigator named Blake Fox. He’s a charming man, though a bit...different.”

  “I like him,” Emily said, smiling as she remembered her recent meeting with her cousin’s gorgeous and somewhat offbeat fiancé.

  “And your sons?” Wade asked, seeming to make sure the conversation stayed away from Emily’s personal plans—or his own—for a while.

  Emily sent Wade a grateful look as Bobbie launched into a proud monologue about her sons and her brilliant and adorable grandson, Sam.

  BOBBIE SERVED apricot-nectar cake with ice cream for dessert, and then, finally the meal was over. Typically, the women moved to the kitchen to clean up while Caleb led the guys into the den for football and coffee.

  “I think he likes you, Emily,” Bobbie whispered loudly as they loaded dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

  Her cheeks warming, Emily gave her aunt a warning glance. “Aunt Bobbie...”

  “He did seem rather taken, didn’t he?” Marvella said approvingly.

  “I thought I noticed some interest there.” The minister’s wife seemed as prone to matchmaking as her friends. “You and Chief Davenport would make a nice couple, Emily. He’s widowed, you know. And that boy of his already seems very fond of you.”

  “But—”

  “Clay’s a precious little boy, isn’t he?” Bobbie mused. “So polite. The chief is doing a fine job of raising him.”

  “I hear that housekeeper of his is a wonder,” Marvella, who missed little local gossip despite her advanced years, commented. “LouAnne Garner took a casserole over to welcome them to town, and she said you could eat off’n the floors, the house was so clean. She takes good care of little Clay when his daddy’s at work, too. She’s Mexican, you know.”

  “She’s rather shy, I think,” Jennie confided. “I invited her to church, but she said she’s Catholic, so I told her about St. Joseph’s.”

  “Have you met her yet, Emily?” Bobbie wanted to know.

  “Of course not, Aunt Bobbie. I hardly know Chief Davenport. I’ve had no reason to meet his housekeeper.”

  The women brushed off Emily’s protestations without visible concern.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the chief invites you out for dinner or a movie real soon,” Marvella advised Emily. “You let him know right off that you’re a nice girl, you hear?”

  Emily’s cheeks flushed hotter. “Er—”

  “Now, Marvella, I’m sure he knows that already,” Jennie murmured.

  Marvella stuck to her opinion. “A lady has to make things clear these days. And I’m sure Emily doesn’t mind a little advice, since she doesn’t have a mother around to guide her. Isn’t that right, dear?”

  Bobbie lifted her chin. “I’ve always been available for Emily, just as I was for my own daughter. Emily and I have had some long talks about young men, haven’t we, sweetheart?”

  To Emily’s mingled embarrassment and gratitude, they certainly had. Bobbie had always tried to fill the gaping void left in Emily’s young life when her mother had run off with Al Jennings. Still, while Emily loved her aunt for her solicitude, she certainly didn’t want to discuss such things now.

  “Let me dean this pan for you, Aunt Bobbie,” she said, making a rather desperate grab for the dishwashing liquid. “I’ll just wash it in the sink.”

  “Watch your jewelry,” Jennie Tatum warned. “You’ll mess up your watch, if you aren’t careful. And that lovely bracelet.”

  Emily glanced automatically at the heavy gold bracelet on her right wrist. “I’ll be careful.”

  Looking at the bracelet with a slight frown between her pencilled brows, Emily’s aunt asked, “Where did you get that, Emily? I don’t remember seeing you wear it before—but, for some reason, it looks familiar to me.”

  “I’ve worn it a couple of times before,” Emily said, uncomfortable again with the turn the conversation had taken. “It was my mother’s, I think. I—er—found it after Dad died.”

  She had no intention of telling them about finding the bracelet hidden in the “time capsule.” She’d spent weeks fretting over it after her father’s funeral. Wondering how the bracelet had gotten into the box. And who else had known about their time capsule.

  She had finally decided that she must have put it there herself, and had then forgotten. She’d been so young. She’d probably found the bracelet somewhere among her father’s things, thought it was pretty, and had tucked it into her treasure cache and forgotten about it. How else could it possibly have gotten into a buried box she’d packed herself?

  Though she’d never consciously intended to wear the bracelet since she’d discovered it in the box, she’d found herself slipping it on one morning as she’d gotten ready for work. It had felt...right, somehow, on her wrist. She’d worn it several times since, deliberately giving little thought to the significance of wearing something that had belonged to the mother who’d abandoned her when she was still in diapers.

  Suddenly, Bobbie’s eyes widened. “Oh, goodness, I do remember that bracelet. Nadine loved it so much I never saw her without it. She would never say who gave it to her, though I knew it wasn’t Josiah. I always assumed it was...er...”

  “Al Jennings,” Emily said quietly, naming the married man with whom her mother had disappeared so many years ago.

  Bobbie nodded. “I would have thought she’d have taken it with her. As I said, I never saw her without it”

  “She must have left it for Emily,” Marvella said, studying the bracelet intently.

  “She probably did,” Bobbie agreed, apparently struck by the suggestion. “You know, I never could understand how Nadine could leave her baby girl that way. I didn’t blame her so much for leaving Josiah—everyone knew they were all wrong for each other—but to run off with another woman’s husband, leaving all those children hind...well, I could hardly believe it.”

  “A gold brac
elet is hardly compensation for the loss of a mother, is it, Emily?” Jennie Tatum asked sympathetically.

  “No.” The bracelet felt suddenly heavy on Emily’s arm. “It isn’t.”

  “Excuse me, ladies.”

  Wade’s voice from the doorway made the group of women fall silent. Emily turned to look at him, wondering just how much he’d overheard. He wasn’t looking at her, but at her aunt.

  “Mrs. McBride, I wanted to thank you for having Clay and me to lunch. We enjoyed it very much.”

  “Oh, are you leaving, Chief?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We have a few other things to do this afternoon. And I’m going to be checking into the progress of the investigation of those break-ins, Mrs. Tucker.”

  Marvella nodded in satisfaction. “Good. You find those miscreants, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Good afternoon, Mrs. Tatum.”

  “Good afternoon, Chief.”

  Only then did Wade glance at Emily. “See you, Emily.”

  “See you, Wade.”

  Both the words and their attitudes were quite casual, implying nothing beyond friendly acquaintance. Emily couldn’t imagine why the older women were suddenly smiling at her with such indulgent approval.

  7

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL Sunday evening. Crisp. Clear. Fragrant.

  Emily sat on her porch swing after dark, sipping a steaming mug of instant cappuccino and enjoying the weather. She wasn’t expecting company, so she was surprised when a vehicle suddenly turned into her driveway.

  Her pulse accelerated when she recognized Wade Davenport’s Jeep. What was he doing here? She’d only seen him a few hours ago.

  She waited on the swing while he climbed out of his Jeep and ambled toward her with his usual, unhurried stride. “Evening, Miz Emily,” he drawled, tugging at his forelock.

  She couldn’t help smiling at his clowning. “Evening, Chief Davenport,” she replied in the same lazy, Southern drawl that came so naturally to them. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  “I wanted to talk to you, if you’ve got a minute.”

  “I’ve got several minutes. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Iced tea?”

  “No, thanks. I just had dinner.”

  Emily set her empty coffee mug on the porch and scooted all the way to one side of the small swing, allowing room for Wade to sit beside her. He practically filled up the remaining space, leaving only an inch or so between them. Close enough to make her skin tingle.

  She spoke quickly, needing to fill the silence between them. “What did you want to talk to me about, Wade?”

  He pulled one knee slightly upward, and wrapped his hands around it, using his other foot to set the swing into gentle motion. “I’m planning to make an offer for your house tomorrow.”

  Did he want to discuss the price? She moistened her lips, wondering what to say. She’d never handled a sale like this before, and wasn’t certain of the protocol. She remembered her uncle’s warning for her to get a fair market price—but she’d trusted Mary Kay to help her determine that. “What about it?”

  “Emily, are you really sure you want to sell?”

  She sighed. “You’ve been thinking about what Marvella said at lunch, haven’t you?”

  “I couldn’t help thinking about it. She’s the one who pointed out that the place has been in your family for a very long time. You’ve got a nice house here and a lot of good land. What if you decide in a few months that you’ve made a terrible mistake?”

  “Wade, I’ve been thinking about this for years. I’ve talked to you about this already. The whole time Dad was ill, when I had no choice but to remain here, I told myself that as soon as I was free, I wanted to get away. This house, this town, are all I’ve known all my life. I feel almost as though I’ve been caged here while all my cousins and most of my childhood friends were free to fly off to exciting new places.”

  “I’ve been to a lot of other places. They aren’t as exciting as you might think.”

  “I’d like to find that out for myself,” she insisted.

  “Where will you go when you move out? What will you do?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll have the money from the sale to live on for a while. The house is paid for, so I don’t owe anything. Combined with Dad’s insurance, I’ll have enough to tide me over until I decide where I want to settle down and what I want to do.”

  “Where will you go first?”

  “I was thinking about New York. I’ve never been to New York, though I’ve always wanted to visit there. I want to see some Broadway shows, and go through the Metropolitan Museum and eat at the Tavern on the Green. Maybe even go to the top of the Empire State Building. All the things I’ve heard about in movies and on television.”

  “Alone?”

  She nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

  “You want a list of reasons? I’ve been to New York, Emily. And, while it’s an exciting and fascinating city, it can be a dangerous place for a young woman alone. Especially a woman who has little experience with big cities.”

  She refused to be discouraged by his warning. “I’ll be fine. There are plenty of single women my age who live and work in the city. We only hear so much about the bad things on the news because it makes good copy.”

  “That may be true, but remember that I’m a cop. I spent some time training in one of the precincts in New York. I know the kind of crime that goes on there. It’s a hell of a lot worse than the few break-ins and petty vandalism we’ve had around here.”

  “I’m not entirely naive. I know what to expect.”

  “I’m not so sure that you do,” he argued grimly.

  She swallowed another sigh. “Wade, I have a big brother—somewhere. I really don’t need another one.”

  Wade went suddenly still, stopping the swing’s lulling motion. “Have I given you the impression that my feelings toward you are fraternal? If so, you’ve gotten the wrong idea. Completely wrong.”

  Emily felt her heart skip a beat in response to something she heard in his deep voice. “Um—”

  “Trust me, Emily McBride, I don’t think of you as a little sister. And I sure don’t want you looking at me as a big brother.”

  She cleared her throat. “I, er—”

  He twisted on the swing until he was facing her. And then he reached out and took her hand, which had gone icy. His felt almost blazing hot in contrast.

  “My reasons for wanting you to stay in Honoria aren’t entirely professional. Nor are they unselfish. Sure, I’m concerned for your safety. But there’s a hell of a lot more to it than that.”

  She tried to think of something intelligent to say. Heck, she’d have settled for coherent.

  Wade didn’t give her a chance. He leaned closer, his breath warm on her face when he murmured, “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first minute I saw you. If you want me to back off, now’s your chance to say so.”

  Maybe she would have—if she had been capable of speaking at all. As it was, she could only close her eyes and try not to be completely swept away when his lips covered hers.

  She wasn’t entirely successful.

  Wade’s lips were firm and warm against hers, bold and skilled. And Emily could no more resist responding to him than she could stop her heart from pounding in her chest.

  Wade took his time kissing her. Tasting her. Exploring every centimeter of her mouth. When he finally drew back, it was with a reluctance he didn’t bother to hide.

  Dazed, Emily looked up at him, realizing for the first time that she’d clutched his denim jacket in both hands and was holding on to him for dear life. “Okay,” she said, her voice shaky. “I’ll knock five thousand off the house.”

  His laugh was rough edged. “No, you won’t, and you know that isn’t why I kissed you.”

  Yes, she knew, but she’d thought it safer to try to make a joke—no matter how weak—than to let him realize exactly how seriously she’d taken that kiss.

  “Do you believe me
now that I don’t see you as a little sister?”

  She released her grip on his jacket and locked her hands together tightly in her lap. “Yes. But—”

  “Then I’ve accomplished something tonight, anyway.”

  “Wade, I’m very serious about leaving town. I’ve been planning this for years.”

  He nodded. “So you’ve said.”

  “And I still think it would be a mistake for us to get...involved. Considering that I’m leaving, and everything,” she said lamely.

  “Yes, we’ve agreed on that, as well.”

  “It’s really for the best. It’s not as if we...well, you know...clicked or anything.” Oh, she was sounding lamer by the minute, she thought with a swallowed groan.

  He tugged her into his arms and covered her mouth with his again before she had a chance to react. Not that she would have stopped him if she could have, she thought, drifting into another spectacular kiss.

  An eternity later, he drew slowly back, his smile wicked. “I think I heard some definite clicking.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “You know what I mean,” she muttered.

  “Honey, I’m not even sure you know what you mean.”

  She bit her lip. He was probably right. And it didn’t help that her pulse had tripped again just because he’d called her “honey.”

  This was no way to keep her emotional distance from him.

  She took the coward’s way out. “It’s getting late. You’d better go.”

  “So I should make the offer on your house?”

  “If you don’t, someone else will,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact about it “The place is still for sale.”

  He nodded and stood, making the swing sway. Emily planted her feet on the porch to steady it.

  “Good night, Emily.”

  “Good night, Wade.”

  “I’ll be seeing you around.”

  She didn’t know whether to take his words as a promise—or a warning.

  LONG AFTER WADE had driven away, Emily stood in her living room, holding the colorful brochures she’d collected during the past few years. Exotic names swam before her eyes. Antigua. New Zealand. Brussels. Venice. Wales.

 

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