by Angie Wilder
“If it’s any consolation, stunned mortification looks pretty on you.” Rather than the familiar teasing grin that would match his comment, Evan’s expression looked soft with concern.
Could Evan be any nicer over her humiliation? She sat on the bench in the entryway and thrust her feet into the skates. “In that case, I should be gorgeous by the time we reach the clinic. You are in for a chore, keeping me vertical. It’s been years.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
She sensed Evan was about to say something more, but then he didn’t. As she readied herself, Emma refused to meet his gaze. Not that she figured he’d call her out on the near kiss. He’d have to be a mind reader. It’s not like she’d arched up on tiptoes and caught him. But then again, what if he’d sensed it coming? Emma tried to go slow with the laces, buying a moment to calm down, but time raced. Her ankles wobbled as she stood in the skates.
In her current condition, she knew she had to take precautions against another one-sided almost-kiss. Or any other sappy flirtation on her part. So what if all those old feelings were back, wedged in her heart, with nowhere to go? It didn’t matter that she’d always loved Evan. What counted was that he didn’t find out. She had to guard against the humiliating possibility.
Taking action, Emma stepped into the entryway’s walk-in closet and shut Evan out. There would be no kissing today. From the storage bins, she collected a goalie face mask. Yes, she would cage her skull if that’s what it took. She also snagged a pink My Little Pony bicycle helmet and an orange around-the-neck style life jacket. After she buttoned up her wool coat, she topped it with the life preserver and secured the face mask. Emma set the helmet on her head and tugged at the tight straps. The helmet didn’t play well with the mask, but it’d do in a pinch. “Ready,” she said as she passed through the door.
Evan’s jaw dropped. He made a choking sound, then said, “Eh, Em?”
So what if her getup was a smidgeon ridiculous? All the better. “I’m geared up,” she said, but then spotted her scarf on the entryway bench and proceeded to wrap it around her neck. It was quite a long scarf, and the fat floatation already collared her neck up to her chin where it met the face mask. By the end of her bundling, she couldn’t see out. Emma watched as a finger poked through the ensemble and hooked a swath of scarf, and Evan’s face appeared. He looked to be struggling with emotions, like he was trying them on one by one for size.
“Em, you’re safe with me. You don’t need all this. You can’t even see through all this.” He let go of the scarf. Light disappeared.
“I guess I should lose the scarf.”
His finger reappeared, and he made a window she could see out. He bent down, so they were eye to eye and said, “It’s cold out. Keep the scarf. Ditch the face mask.”
He had a point. Plus, the mask smelled like ripe dirty socks, but Emma wasn’t so sure she should let go of her protective gear.
“What’s that odor?” He leaned in closer.
“Ack, I’ll take off the mask. Help me unwind the scarf.” She tipped her chin up, and the pony helmet clattered to the floor. It would fit better without the mask. “I’m keeping the rest,” she said before he undressed her further. Emma hugged the ugly orange preserver that padded her boobs and protected her heart.
Eyes alight with amusement, he fixed her outfit, adjusted her helmet, and said, “You are adorable.”
10
As Emma stepped outside, she tugged her gloves on and her skate guards off. Evan deposited them inside the pack he carried, which also contained their shoes. “All set?”
Emma gave his arm a mock slug and flashed him a we’re-just-friends grin. “Let’s do this!” She could enjoy skating with Evan without losing her head. Her heart was well guarded under the life vest, and her head on straight, protected by the helmet.
Evan chuckled and took her hand, keeping her steady as they descended the front step. “So far so good,” he said, then winked.
Huh? The silly man may say she’s adorable, and that may have given her tummy a tickle, but dressed as she was, he shouldn’t find her wink-able. In her current wardrobe, she should be safe to flirt her buns off without him noticing. She concentrated on their journey and said, “It’s a beautiful day.” She planned to gesture to the blue sky, but her free arm was put to use, flapping wildly to keep her upright.
Evan’s grip eased around her waist, and he pulled her against his side. “It’s a perfect day.” He held her, gentle yet firm and in control. He steered them away from the house. As they progressed down the pavement, he altered his hold and repositioned her in front. His hands circled around her from behind, like a hug. He was snug up against her. “We’ll try it like this until you find your feet.”
She’d better locate her balance quick because the full-body contact would melt her mind. She would not get swept off her feet by Evan. Emma breathed in the fresh air and focused on the view. The landscape was a picturesque wonderland. A dusting of snow had turned the ground white. The ice leveled out the gaps in the concrete, forming a smooth path for skating. Tree branches hung heavy as if glazed in clear glass, catching the sunlight. Other than the chirp of a cardinal, the neighborhood was quiet. The morning was spectacular—pure magic. Especially the part with Evan’s arms around her. Safe in her protective gear, and with Evan at her back so he wouldn’t see her dopy grin, she relaxed in his embrace. This moment was her childhood fantasy come true. Even better than a hand-in-hand loop around the ice rink. She’d savor it. When he loosened his grip, she stiffened.
“Easy,” he said and tightened his hold. “I’m just testing. I wondered if you might enjoy some real skating?”
“Hm.” She laid her hands over his, where they rested against her waist, and encouraged his embrace. She was happy to stay as they were. When the path dipped to meet the street, Emma pressed her palm against his fingers as they glided across the road and back up. The change of surface caused her to worry, but Evan had everything under control. “You’re good at this.”
“Absolutely.”
“Nice.” She grinned over his arrogant reply.
“Yes, it is.” He gave her a little squeeze.
Did he imply that this moment together was nice? It sounded like a flirtation. That couldn’t be right. The thrilling comfort of Evan’s arms around her went to her head. She put on her just-friends hat and asked, “What does real skating mean?” Her overheated emotions required fewer snuggles.
“We could nail a twirl or two.”
“You have too much faith in me,” she said but remembered her old fantasies of holding his hand while he gave her a spin. “I’ll give it a try.”
“You sure?”
She risked a peek back at Evan, her helmet bumping his chest, and said, “You’ll catch me if I fall?”
“Every time. I’ve got mad hockey-hottie talents.” He winked.
“Swoon.” She giggled over her compliment, even though he teased her with that embarrassing accidental name she’d called him. “Okay, big guy. I trust you have my back.”
“You got that right,” he said and crossed to her left. Evan’s palm slid loose around her back, then his grip shifted to her elbow. In a blink he faced her. With a sturdy hold on her arms, he continued to propel them down the sidewalk.
“You’re skating backward.” She moved her hands to his shoulders. One second, Evan cuddled her back, the next he held her face to face. Light played in his eyes as he led them in their new dance floor position.
“I got backward down pat.” He grinned. “The question is, can you?”
“No. I don’t believe—” Emma said, but by the time the words passed her lips, he’d flipped their positions, and her pulse had spiked.
“What were you saying?” he teased.
“Pull me in closer.” Adrenaline motivated her. She shifted her palms over his shoulders, and the gap between them disappeared.
“Closer?” Evan’s hands circled around her, bringing her flat up against his body. Or as fla
t as the vest would allow.
“My heart rate needed to recover,” Emma squeaked before realizing her error. Nothing about clinging to Evan, immersed in his woodsy man scent, would help her heart rate. Especially not the part where she pressed her pelvis against him. Bad girl, she scolded herself and sucked in one last delicious breath. Nice and easy she moved her hands to his chest and pushed away. She welcomed the few sanity-preserving inches of cold air between her body and his. “All better!” Emma shivered free of his tempting heat. She plastered on a grin, ignoring desire, and cheered, “Let’s do it again!”
“Again?” Evan’s dimple showed, but there was a flicker of intensity that heated his gaze. He started to draw her close.
It was excellent. Fantasy stuff. Emma must have bumped her head on the door frame harder than she realized. Either that, or she’d reached full delusional with this crush crisis. Desperate to discipline her emotions, Emma forced her hand to his chest and shoved off, saying, “Take me for another twirl, hockey-hottie,” and began her poorly calculated flail backward.
Evan caught her by the vest. It was exhilarating being saved by a man who knew what he was about. “Let me do the driving,” he teased.
Emma nodded, ready to surrender to whatever he had in mind.
It was speed. He propelled them onward, building to a breathtaking rush.
She could hear her heartbeat and the swish of blades cutting ice while she enjoyed the ride wrapped safely in his arms. Her back was once again pressed to his front. Her belly tickled, and she laughed. “I will never forget this day, Evan. Thank you.”
“You ready to dance?” He slowed them down, switched his position to face her, and they spun a gentle circle.
She held on tight, uncertain if it was the skating or Evan that had made her dizzy.
“You need another heart rate hug?” He drew her in.
“Yes, please.” She melted against him, her helmet shifting as she rested her cheek to his heart. “So good,” she sighed, then arched backward and regained a cushion of space before she got carried away. Or maybe she had already gone too far?
Their pace slowed to a stop. Those dark blue eyes of his were almost black, and the fun-and-games dimple was gone.
Whatever was transpiring here ran to her head like a triple shot espresso and a pint of Baileys Irish Cream. She wanted to kiss Evan in the worst way.
His gaze traveled to her mouth.
It was a daydream. Emma’s hopeful heart imagined Evan was drawing her to him. Ready for the warm possibility of a kiss, her eyes fluttered closed. Emma tilted her lips. Asking… Wait! She would never live this down, the embarrassment of going needy in Evan’s arms dressed like a geared-up idiot. The realization jarred her out of the illusion.
“So—” Her words stopped short when her nose careened into his chin. How had Evan been that close? Had she bounced up and nabbed him? Good grief, would the list of humiliations ever end? “Sorry,” she squeaked, rubbed her tender nose, and noticed their environment. They stood near the clinic’s rear exit.
“Em?” Evan lifted a hand from her waistline and cradled her cheek in his palm.
The contact felt wonderful. Was she about to hear the world’s sweetest let-her-down-easy we-are-just-friends speech? Had he seen her true feelings for him? Or was he looking at her nose?
His fingertips drifted over her skin. “I’ve been thinking—”
No, let’s never mention this, she thought and said, “My nose is fine. I don’t know how that collision happened.” On an emotional edge, she wished nothing more than to yank his lips to hers and taste the forbidden fruit. But that wasn’t happening.
Evan studied her.
“I’m sure your chin is fine. It looks like a nice strong chin. Still handsome—” His dimple popped out. She had to cease talking. Evan had to quit touching her. “I didn’t get snot on you, did I?”
“What?” He blinked and loosened his hold.
She used the distraction to free herself from his embrace and proceeded to the door. “Best trip to the office, ever.” Emma missed his hands already. She slid the key out of her pocket and jammed it in the lock, making her escape before he could let her down easy.
He should have kissed her. Emma had tipped her face to his, closed her eyes, and offered a beautiful invitation. His hesitation, aware that his lips on hers would change their friendship, lasted only a heartbeat before he’d lowered his mouth to hers. She’d had to realize his intention. Once she was in his arms, the chemistry between them ran off the charts, but then she got spooked. They’d collided, and she’d bolted.
Evan didn’t believe the attraction was in his imagination. Emma had gazed at him the way a starved woman on a no-carb diet craves a breadstick…or cake. Triple-layer chocolate cake with whipped cream and fudge sauce and… Damn it, why was he wasting his time with food analogies instead of chasing after her?
Emma fumbled the knob and placed her hip to the door, braced to push her way inside the clinic.
He hurried to her side and slipped the backpack off his shoulder, reaching for the skate guards. He had a couple of options here. One, say, “Hey, Em, two seconds ago when you were in my arms, I really wanted to kiss you, so how about we give it a go?“ The other option… see how the day played out and maybe look for a new opportunity. Hell, there was no maybe about it. Now that he’d noticed her, he couldn’t stop. He was all set to kiss Emma Gains and hang on tight.
“Hey, Em?” He touched her, resting his palm against her arm.
She glanced at him with panic in her eyes and pink in her cheeks.
Option two won. “Let me help you with your guards.” He crouched down and secured the blade protectors one foot at a time while she clung to the wall for support. Evan would rather she held on to him, but she looked tense, and so he’d eased off on the flirtations, pretended that the two of them weren’t ready to ignite, and gave her space to calm down. He suspected they’d both put a lot of effort into acting normal today. He had wanted to see if there was a spark between them, and now he realized they were dealing with fireworks. Or dynamite. The truth was, they could both get pretty hurt, like a moth to a flame and all that… Or, they might both fall in…
“Evan?”
He studied her from where he squatted on the ground. Her crazy outfit hadn’t squashed his desire.
Emma’s panicked expression had softened to puzzled, though she still maintained her tense grip on the door handle. “Are you going to let go of my skate?”
How long had he been lost in thoughts over her? “Absolutely.” He released Emma’s boot.
She hightailed it inside.
After Evan guarded up and changed from skates to shoes, he found Emma standing in the lobby frowning at the Christmas tree. He admired her profile. Her cinnamon-brown sweater dress started with a turtleneck collar, ended an inch above the knee, and flattered all the places in between. Even her leggings or tights, whatever they were, clung to her shapely legs in all the right ways. Emma straightened the silver ball keepsake from Paris, then propped her hands on her narrow waist. The action accentuated the curve of her hips.
Suddenly, he hated that stupid ornament. Was she reminding herself that men suck? Or whatever she said that thing represented… Some notion about working herself to death, then putting an elegant label on it called goals. He understood striving to be the best, but there were prices to pay. Emma had lost touch. She’d sacrificed relationships for office life. It wasn’t his place to lecture. He’d been there himself when he was neck-deep in school and hockey. No matter what, Evan wouldn’t let her drift out of his life again. He’d do all the work if need be, but he wouldn’t let her slip away. Kiss or no kiss, their friendship was golden. Did their relationship mean he should lay off the flirting for good? That idea struck like a slapshot to the gut.
Emma turned when she noted his presence.
“Your shoes.” Evan held up the suede boots she’d forgotten when she fled. Their shape was comparable to figure skates only they we
re tan and zipped down the sides, rather than laced up the top. The resemblance guaranteed he’d be thinking about their fantastic morning skate whenever he looked her way.
She moved across the room to him. “Thank you. It is strange being stocking-footed at work.” When Emma reached out, their fingers brushed. She sucked in a breath and her gaze shot to his.
There was no way she didn’t feel the chemistry. Not with that glint in her eyes and a glow to her skin.
Her focus fell and lingered on his lips before she spun away.
That sealed it. Evan would find the perfect opportunity to kiss Emma. She craved this as badly as he did. Screw that Paris BS. The woman needed romance.
Boots in hand, Emma went behind the front desk and sat in the swivel chair.
He followed her like a puppy and pretended to take an interest in the calendar. He tapped at the keyboard and brought up the schedule. Bold red lettering that read “Second Round Interview” caught his attention. If Ted felt well enough to join Evan at the office, they were extending an offer to one of two candidates vying for their open DVM position. The practice shouldn’t postpone the new hire, but…what if…? Evan studied the photograph Sophie had brought in to welcome Emma to the clinic. The shot Kaley claimed was snapped the time Em planned to up the stakes on her schoolgirl crush and catch him—kiss him—under the mistletoe. He glanced at Em and discovered her watching him.
She angled away in a rush and shuffled her booted feet against the floor, wheeling the chair down the opposite length of the counter. Then she grabbed a clipboard and flipped through the attached paperwork. It wasn’t fair that he knew that she had a crush on him, but he loved the advantage.
