Emma

by Angie Wilder

  “It’s handy that one-hour photo can make enlargements,” her momma said, deeming the image to be eleven-by-fourteen worthy. A real statement piece.

  Evan glanced at it, his dimple popping out in approval. Then he moved his focus to the lump of brown knitted wear left on the counter. “Is that for the cat?”

  Harry must have sensed all eyes on him, as he chose that moment to uncurl from his nap. He rose, stretching his legs and rounding his spine toward the ceiling, and coiled back into a ball.

  “He’s cold.” Emma gathered the feline then eased the garment, which resembled a brown bathrobe, over his head.

  “I hope it fits. The sweater is a leftover from Frenchie’s puppy days.”

  “Duffy might also have something that’ll fit Harry,” Evan said while tinkering with the lights.

  “Right.” Emma chuckled. Evan owned a tiny Yorkshire terrier who he’d nicknamed Duff the Puff.

  Evan shot her a teasing don’t-make-fun-of-my-dog glance.

  She knew there wasn’t any heat to the glare because his dimple showed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re six foot two and you have a dog the size of your shoe. It’s adorable.” Emma finished dressing Harry.

  “You’re only six two?” Momma said. “You seem taller.”

  Evan frowned at her, then cut his gaze to Harry, who purred contentedly in his new getup. “Your cat looks like Yoda.”

  The robe did have a Star Wars look about it. The cat’s wrinkled skin and large pointy ears made Evan’s Yoda remark dead-on. Harry’s bright eyes twinkled up at her, and she vowed to go shopping on his behalf.

  “The sweater was from the costume rack,” Momma said, confirming the design. “I picked it up on clearance after Halloween.”

  Evan nodded, his lips tipped up with amusement. His gaze shifted from the cat to Emma. “You should rename him Yoda. It works.”

  “He’s not my cat.”

  “We’ll see.” He winked.

  “I don’t have time for a cat.” Emma set Harry back on the swivel chair, picked up a package of shatterproof red balls, and proceeded to the tree.

  “A vet without a pet?” Evan took the box from her. “Who doesn’t have time for a cat?”

  Me. It was a sad truth that she didn’t want to think too hard about. Emma returned to the counter for more ornaments.

  “Don’t forget this, dear.” Her mother handed over a silver ball etched with the Eiffel tower. It was Emma’s souvenir from Paris.

  “Momma, where did you get this?”

  “Your suitcase. You’re all unpacked and put away. You know, I bought that same package of underwear from Target. Comfy practicality at a bargain price.”

  Momma didn’t just say that…out loud…in front of Evan?

  Evan ducked further behind the tree. His shoulders shook, causing the branches to sway.

  There was nothing amusing about wearing the same practical panties as her momma. When Emma gave up on love, she really went all in. Maybe too far. She held her hand out for the Paris ornament.

  “Love—there is nowhere more romantic than Paris.” A smile lit up Momma’s face. “I’m so glad you haven’t given up on love.”

  Emma had told her mother that she didn’t have time for a relationship. That she didn’t need a man to feel fulfilled. That she didn’t wish to get back on the horse. Emma shoved the ball on a branch. “The trip was with college friends, not a love interest. They are successful women who’ve inspired me to stay committed to my dreams. It’s a reminder that my self-worth isn’t tied to a guy. I have other goals.”

  “What about your heart?”

  “I’m following my heart with the partnership.”

  Her momma, refusing to listen, said, “Hang your Paris ornament where you can appreciate it. Inspiration for your love life.”

  “I don’t desire a love life,” she said for the umpteenth time and pointed at the ball, which happened to be in the same direction as Evan.

  He straightened.

  She retracted the finger aimed at his chest and dropped her hand.

  “Of course you do, dear. Today you became a single lady with a cat. It’s a slippery slope from there on out,” her momma joked.

  “Not my cat. I’m sure the owner will return.”

  “Em, our last patient of the day just pulled into the parking lot. You want to take that one?” Evan was throwing her a lifeline, an escape from her mother. The group watched as the guy opened his passenger side door, and a yellow Labrador jumped out.

  Before Emma could agree, her momma said, “He’s good-looking, a nice car, dependable dog. You should take Evan up on his offer.”

  “Momma,” Emma groaned.

  “Evan can be your wingman. Send the best single ones your way.”

  “Evan can be my wingman to ensure a romance-free holiday.”

  He rubbed his neck, looking dazed by Momma’s antics.

  As the man and his dog approached the door, Emma had to concede, the guy was rather handsome. Not that she was interested. Her gaze slid to Evan, then she turned the long underwear picture face down. Hot or not, nobody needed to see that.

  Her mother continued her romance sales pitch. “He has one of those trendy short beards the ladies are crazy for, and I’m betting he’s six foot three.”

  Evan frowned and fumbled an ornament.

  The customer smiled at Emma through the glass front door.

  A moment later, Evan’s fingertips touched her waist, and he brushed his magnificent lips to her temple.

  Emma’s pulse whooshed and hummed in her ears. Or was that the music of angels singing? Damn angels, she didn’t need this right now. “What are you doing?” she sputtered and tried not to lean in for more. The magnetic attraction kicked in, big time.

  “Wingman, at your service.” He grinned, full dimple.

  Emma’s chakras screamed—yeehaw! Her heart was in big fat trouble.

  Evan followed Kaley around the department store and another rack of baby accessories. The clinic kept banker hours, and he was happy to spend his Sunday getting a jump-start on Christmas shopping. Besides that, he needed to regain his balance before work on Monday…with Emma, the source of his recent equilibrium problem. Evan needed a day to let his nerves settle, except he had the niggling sensation that his sister planned to hit him with some in-depth discussion. The frequent corner-of-the-eye glances and long hesitant pauses gave her away. Though she was all smiles while cooing over the baby duds.

  Evan eyed the strollers. They’d make a decent shopping cart if Kaley got carried away with her purchases. “Are you picking out gifts for yourself?” They both knew he’d return for her favorites.

  She dangled miniature cream booties with bunny ears on the toes and a pompom on each heel. “Aren’t they cute?” Kaley was high on expectant-mother excitement.

  He grinned, and couldn’t help but tease her, “If baby feet are meant to be disguised as rodents.” They had marveled over the concept of tiny sock-clad toes for the past ten minutes.

  Kaley scrunched her lips together over his remark and countered with, “Would you prefer we shop for nursing bras?”

  “I’m good with the socks. Or holding the bags while you go do your thing. Maybe Mom or Emma would be better suited for that excursion?” He had to draw a line somewhere.

  “Only messing with you.” Kaley snickered. “Emma and I already shopped lingerie this morning but then work called.”

  Only one part of that sentence was meant for his ears. “Work?”

  “California. Emma apologized for being so distracted. We had quality girl time earlier.” Kaley moved toward the men’s department. “She also said that you told her I became jealous over Paris.”

  He winced. “I predicted that would come back to bite me.” Evan speculated over how much groveling and apologizing he’d need to do to make it up to his sister. It wasn’t his place to interfere. He should turn back for the bunny socks, a peace offering for oversharing.

  “Emma also said tha
t you kissed her.” The corners of Kaley’s lip curved in a slow, sly grin.

  “What?” Sure he’d given her a platonic kiss, but… “Em told you that?” It wasn’t a lip-locker, or even worthy of registering on her mother’s love-interest radar. He and Emma weren’t that way. Sophie had given Emma a hard time over men, and he’d stepped in. It shocked him how the touch had made him run hot, but that wasn’t something to divulge to his sister. Ever.

  “Which subject do you prefer to discuss? Your big mouth…oh, wait I need to be more specific. Paris or kissing Emma?” Kaley stopped at a table stacked with sweaters, ran her fingertips over a charcoal crew neck, then rounded to face him with one eyebrow arched. “Well?”

  Evan groaned. He knew Kaley wouldn’t let the kiss go. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Not to you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shook her head, pinched her lips tight, and considered an ugly Santa sweater, ignoring him.

  There was something Kaley wasn’t telling. Had he upset Emma? “Spill it!”

  Kaley tossed the garment down. “There’s nothing to spill.”

  “I’m shocked Emma said anything.” His chested tugged with worry. “Is she mad?”

  “Mad?” Kaley snorted like that was a great joke. “No. Just something to chat about is all.” She shifted her feet around the island of sweaters, gave him a long look, and sighed. “Fine. You got her all stirred up, flustered. Emma has…er…she had a huge crush on you.”

  “What?” His breath whooshed out of his lungs and his eyes watered with the need to cough. He held it in and stared at his sister, waiting for the gotcha. Kaley had to be pulling his leg. A crush? “Since when?” he said in a tone that let Kaley know he wasn’t buying it, because if this were true…

  Kaley looked him in the eye and said, “Since forever.” She wasn’t kidding.

  “Forever?” He leaned a hip against a table display while his brain went into overdrive sifting through a montage of Emma moments.

  “Since the time Emma fell off her bike and skinned her knee, and you carried her home. Or the day you split your Popsicle, knowing cherry was her favorite. Back when Emma and I spent playtime pressing Ken and Barbie’s faces together. Since then.”

  “Kid stuff,” he said and sought to shake off yesterday’s vision of Emma in his jersey. Best to ignore that and this entire conversation.

  Kaley shrugged and proceeded to the next display. “What do you think?” She held a dark green V-neck to her chest. “I think it will bring out the green in Daddy’s eyes,” she said and smoothed a hand over her baby bump.

  Evan forced himself to concentrate on the sweater, but today nothing made sense. “Doesn’t Mark have brown eyes?” He hadn’t seen Kaley’s boyfriend in five months, since he was stationed overseas, but Evan was pretty sure the man’s eyes weren’t green.

  “They look different in the light, wearing certain colors.” She folded the garment over her arm, sold on the color. “You have to be up close.”

  He feared pregnancy hormones had caused Kaley to go daft. First, that business about Emma having a youthful crush, now this? Hormones explained everything. Evan breathed easier. “I should get Emma a present while we are here.”

  “Is that so?” Kaley batted her eyelashes and steered them in the direction of the fancy baskets of soap.

  “Because we are friends and this outing is for gifts.”

  “Did Sophie bring in the picture I gave her? The one of you and Emma as teenagers?”

  “She had it enlarged.”

  “Oh geez, I didn’t anticipate she’d do that. Did Emma get frazzled?”

  “Tough to say, she was already worked up over a silly picture of us in long underwear. Why?”

  Kaley shrugged, but her demeanor had changed, and her mouth tipped up in a grin.

  He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. His usually sweet sister prepared to lay another whopper on him.

  “The photo was taken the day Emma planned to catch you under the mistletoe. Mom had hung some special for the neighborhood party. Emma made fanciful kissing plans. She thought if you bumped into her there, then you’d finally notice her as a girl, not just a friend. A magical holiday moment. Only it didn’t work out. Emma waited, you showed, then mom popped up with her camera, spoiling everything. It was nerve-racking watching Emma stew, waiting for another opportunity.”

  Evan rubbed his neck and studied Kaley. She appeared a hundred percent on this crush reveal. Em had made kissing plans. For him. “Should you be telling me this?”

  “No. Are you kidding me? Emma would kill me.”

  “Then, why are you? Isn’t there a girl code?”

  “Because… It’s like why you told Emma about my hurt feelings over Paris. Maybe that doesn’t make sense, but…the two of us talked it out. Ugh.” Kaley groaned, gnawed on her lip, then she continued, “Because, Evan, I saw the way you looked at Emma at that crazy front door scene. You were intrigued. I think you noticed Emma, the way she hoped you would all those years ago when she planned that mistletoe kiss. That’s why I gave Sophie the photo, and I’m telling you Emma’s secret.”

  “You’re meddling.” He had worked all night long to forget that front door scene. Turned out it was damn memorable. Emma was knock-out pretty when flustered.

  “Meddling for a good cause. Are you interested? I’m betting you are by the twinkle in your eye and that dopey grin.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his jaw and around to the base of his collar. “You have an overactive imagination.”

  “I think you should go for it. If it’s not too late.”

  “No.” He waved his hands like a ref calling the shot a wash out, no goal. He shouldn’t. “We’re just friends.” Too late? What does that even mean. “Does Em still feel this way?”

  “If you want to know that, you’ll have to find out for yourself. Use your eyes. Pay attention to how she looks at you. Or kiss her again. This time on the lips. You’ll figure out darn quick how she feels once you stick your tongue in her mouth.”

  Evan’s heart lurched, and the startling reverberation coursed through him to his fingertips. “Dial it down, Ky.” He wouldn’t get swept up into this craziness. “You’re insane. That’s a fast track to trouble. I’ll pass. Besides, Em’s off men, dating.”

  “True, but Evan—pay attention here—humongous crush. First love blah blah blah…”

  “First love? We weren’t together.”

  “Fine. You’re right, I’ll downgrade you back to sappy crush. Happy?”

  Evan scowled at his sister. She was clever, observant, and annoying. Therefore anything he said could be used against him.

  “There is a possibility that you could be good together now, but that ball is in your court. Or our court. I could help.”

  “No.” He gaped at his sister while his head spun, stuck on French kissing and being good together.

  Kaley pressed on, aiming for his sore spot. “Emma is nothing like Heidi.”

  He’d been with Heidi for two and a half years. They’d been compatible. She’d been understanding with his time on the ice, with the extra hours he put into studies, with days away traveling for the team. Turns out that she’d been too understanding. She’d wanted the guy with the shirtless billboard offer, not the veterinarian. He told his family they’d broken up when he bought a piece of land in Hillcrest, and she wasn’t cut out for small-town living. He supposed that made him sound like a selfish dick—my way or the highway. The truth was, she’d started looking elsewhere as soon as he got benched with his injury. He didn’t desire any further pity, and he didn’t want to plunge back into the dating pool until his fame cooled. Though Kaley was right, Emma wasn’t anything like Heidi.

  Emma was one in a million. It didn’t seem possible that the guys weren’t beating down her door. She was fun, smart, and sexy. Whoa…sexy? That definition tripped him up. It wasn’t one he’d have used before she returned home. Cute, yes. But sexy? Evan had to put a
stop to Kaley’s romanticizing. “The crush was in the past, and Emma is off dating,” he reminded Kaley while he accompanied her into the bath and beauty department. “Em thinks love and happiness are mutually exclusive.” He examined a candy-striped bottle of lotion and wondered why anyone wanted their skin to smell like a breath mint.

  “So you are interested?” Kaley smiled and rubbed her palms together. She looked a wee bit deranged over the prospect of getting him and Em together.

  “No. What part of what I said implied interested? Do not play matchmaker. You are no good at it.”

  “You might be right. I was in on the mistletoe plot. Notice how that unfolded?”

  “No kiss.”

  “Oh, you don’t know?” She smirked and shoved a gift basket at him. It read natural, organic, and cruelty-free. “She’ll appreciate this.”

  “What don’t I know?” He glanced at the load of jasmine-scented products.

  “Never mind. Girl code. But I’ll let you in on a different secret.”

  He was at his wit’s end. Kaley left him to hang until they were back at the car, their purchases stored in her trunk, with their seatbelts buckled. “What’s the secret?”

  “Those scented bath products will drive Emma wild. You bought her, the queen of essential oils, jasmine.”

  “So?”

  “Jasmine is well known as a natural aphrodisiac. With every use, Emma will think of you.”

  He twisted in his seat and glared.

  “In the shower. When she’s naked—”

  “Why would you suggest such a thing?” He cut Kaley short. He did not wish to hear the next words out of her mouth. To have the image—too late. He ground his palms over his eyes.

  “Emma was wearing your jersey, and you liked it,” she sang.

  “I’m returning the basket.” He grabbed the doorknob. Kaley revved the engine, convincing him that his sister had gone flat-out bonkers with pregnancy hormones. It also convinced him to let go of the door handle.

  “You’re grinning.”

  “This is my incredulous face.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I miss hockey. Guys are not this complicated.”

  Kaley steered her car out of the lot. “Complicated is more fun.”