He grabbed her slim wrist and pulled her sharply towards him. A little too sharply, she was lighter than he thought and her body smacked up against his, his arm falling naturally behind her waist. He was turning into a natural klutz.
Her hands pressed against his chest. “You better be a good tipper, otherwise I’m going to have some big complaints.”
“Sorry.” He dropped his hand quickly. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
Her eyes narrowed a little, but they were gleaming. She wasn’t mad. He could barely concentrate. The feel of her warm palms through the cotton of his shirt had taken him by surprise.
“I hope not.”
He’d missed it. The twang in her voice. That lilt. He loved the accent. Sometimes, he had to concentrate for a few seconds to get back into the rhythm of her speech. But it happened so easily, it was like he was meant to listen to her.
She gestured towards the chair. “Sit back down Mr. Holden and I’ll take your order.” Was that a wink? “What would you like – the lumberjack, the Montana man, or the rodeo rider?”
He glanced at the menu again. He hadn’t even looked at it properly and would never normally eat the jumbo sized breakfasts they served in here.
Emma glanced over her shoulder to see who was watching then slid into the chair opposite him. “Mitch, if you wanted to see me, you could have just come back to Bramble House.”
For the first time since adolescence he felt a rush of blood to his cheeks. Darn it. He felt like one of his fourteen-year-old students.
He set the menu down. “You think I came here to ask you out on a date?”
The words didn’t quite out how he intended.
“Didn’t you?” She looked a little offended by how he’d phrased his response.
Her hands pressed flat on the table – as if she were about to stand back up and leave. This wasn’t going how he’d planned. But then again, he hadn’t planned properly at all.
He took a deep breath and tried to push his knotted shoulders down. Tension wouldn’t help here. This was the woman he’d knocked flat on her back a few minutes ago.
He threw up his hands. “Okay, you got me. I might have.”
Her face softened and a smile started to emerge. She wagged her finger at him. “But I don’t date.” There was something playful in her tone.
“You don’t?”
She shook her head. “How can I? First time we met I had a wedding dress on.”
He sat back in the chair a little. Of course she did. Had he lost his mind? Surely, he should be giving her a bit of time and space right now? Chances were, Emma wouldn’t want to date again for months.
She tapped her fingers on the table. Her expression was a little guarded. “So, I might not date. But, I’m new here. I’d appreciate someone showing me around and being my friend.” She dug into the pocket in her waitress apron and slid something across the table towards him. “Particularly when they’ve already promised to take me somewhere good.”
It was the red button for the Marietta Stroll. It was only another few days away. He wasn’t quite sure that she’d agreed to go with him. He’d half expected that she would meet some other people at Bramble House and just decide to go with them.
As a guy who tried to read the minds of a hundred teenagers every day at school, he seemed to suck at reading the mind of the gorgeous Scotswoman in front of him. Maybe it was because he liked her more than he should like any woman he’d met in a bride’s dress? Or maybe it was because he just needed a little practice?
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Marietta Stroll can’t be our inaugural friendship date.”
She gave a mock flinch. “Not date. And don’t use big words with me.”
She seemed to love teasing him. “And why can’t it be? Don’t tell me you’re so immersed in high school that you think I need an initiation?”
He laughed. “You’ve watched too many movies. But”—he wagged his finger back at her—“you’ve got a point. The Marietta Stroll is big.” He circled his hands in the air. “Huge. It might all be too much for you. How about we start small?”
“Oh, I definitely don’t like starting small.” The answer came out too quickly and too loud and they both laughed. Other guests in the dining room turned towards them and he couldn’t help but notice a few admiring glances towards her. “Oops!” She put her hand over her mouth. He liked it when her eyes twinkled like that. “Then let’s not start small. Let’s just have a gentle introduction to Marietta the night before the stroll. Can you skate? Has anyone told you about Miracle Lake? We could go ice skating.”
He could see her visibly gulp. Interesting. “I can teach you.” He tried to add helpfully. Please just let her say yes.
“Hmm…ice skating. I’m not sure. But Miracle Lake sounds a kind of cool place to see. I’d be happy to take a walk with you.”
Relief. “So, Saturday. I’ll pick you up at Bramble House at seven.”
She stood up and picked up her order pad. “I guess you’ve decided you don’t need breakfast after all. I’ll see you Saturday.” She went to walk away then turned back. “And don’t think I won’t check up on you before now and then. You better not have any skeletons in the closet – apart from the school heartthrob tag.”
He stood up and gave her a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve no skeletons.” At least not the kind you might think of. He pushed the thought away.
Now she’d turned her back on him he had the full benefit of her back view. A black skirt and white shirt might seem simple, but the curves filling it weren’t. It would be too easy to fixate on legs that were shown off by a pair of heels instead of a pair of hiking boots.
She gave him a little wave as she went to walk away.
“Hey, Emma?”
She turned back.
“It’s not every day I knock a girl off her feet.” He gave her a cheeky wink and left before she could find something to throw at him.
Chapter Six
‡
The blizzard had started the day before and showed no sign of slowing. The entire town of Marietta was now heavily covered in snow – looking like one of those villages on top of a Christmas cake.
In a way, it was gorgeous. But the trudge to work this morning had been tough. Thank goodness she had that old pair of hiking boots in the trunk of her car; otherwise, she would have spent most of the journey on her backside.
Eliza pressed her face up next to hers at the window. “I love Marietta when it gets like this.” She breathed, her warm breath misting the glass.
Emma turned back to face the large tree in the sitting room. Along with the crackling fire and Christmas decorations it almost made her not want to leave. Almost.
She picked up her hat and pulled it on.
Eliza gave her a sad smile. “I’m pretty sure the ice rink won’t be open tonight because of the blizzard. But there are other things you can do in Marietta. Mitch could take you to Grey’s for a drink or maybe to Rocco’s, the Italian restaurant.”
Emma pulled her gloves on. “Well, if he wants to stay in my good books, he better take m
e somewhere.”
There was a knock at the front door, then it pushed open with a little tinkle. Mitch stepped inside, snow showering off his shoulders and head. He looked down at his boots and pulled a face at Eliza. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry.” She smiled. “It will melt and I’ll mop it up.” She stared down at the new black leather boots Emma had bought the day before. It had been her only purchase so far in Marietta but she’d spied them in the shoe store and just had to have them. Her hiking boots were well past their sell-by date and needed to go.
Eliza gave her a knowing smile. “How about a loan of something else for the snow?” She held up something bright red. “At least they match your coat!”
“Wellies! I haven’t worn wellies since I was a little girl.” She bit her lip. “Do you think we’re the same size?”
Eliza nodded. “I’m sure we are. Try them on.”
It only took a few seconds. “Ooh, these are cosy. They’re lined.”
Eliza nodded. “We need them that way around here.” She pointed out at the snow. “Go on you two, before it gets any worse.”
Mitch gave Emma a smile and crooked his elbow towards her. She felt reassured. Had she made a mistake agreeing to go out with him tonight and tomorrow? Wasn’t she more or less promising something simply by doing that?
But Mitch seemed to be keeping things casual. And that was just about all she could cope with right now.
She slid her hands into her black leather gloves and took his arm. “See you later, Eliza.”
They stepped out onto the porch. She’d been out during the day but not at night. The whole of Bramble Lane was lit up. Warm glows came from all the windows in the street. Some houses had their trees in the windows, others had garlands or Christmas holly wreaths on their doors, some even had multicolored, twinkling lights strung around their trees or garages.
Mitch went to move.
“Wait.” She pressed her hand against his arm.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just want to look for a second.” The whole street was covered in a thick layer of snow. The snow was still falling steadily; if Mitch had left footprints on the way in they’d been covered already.