To Wade, she said only, “I enjoy having children visit.”
Dividing his attention between his son and the property, Wade looked around, examining the house’s foundation, siding, gutters, roofing. Emily doubted that he missed anything, from the basic soundness of the place to the work that needed to be done. Work she’d neglected during the past year, when her father’s medical bills had piled up and his care had grown more demanding. Since his death, she’d done only the general maintenance required to get the house ready to sell.
Wade asked questions about the property lines, about wildlife that lived in the woods surrounding the yard, about the insurance rates and fire-protection services. All the questions anybody else interested in the house would ask. But even as Emily answered them, she suspected his mind was already made up.
Something told her that her first potential buyer was the one who would end up with the place. Assuming they could come to an agreement on price—and she would leave that to the Realtor, for the most part—Wade would probably be living here next year. Again, she had that funny, hollow feeling at the thought of someone else in her house, cooking in her kitchen, working in her yard.
Emily had never lived anywhere except in this house. The thought of moving out was as unnerving as it was intriguing.
But this was what she wanted to do, she reminded herself. She had no intention of spending the rest of her life in this one house, following the same routines, seeing the same faces, never having experienced any of the world outside the confines of Honoria, Georgia.
The real Emily McBride was out there somewhere, and she was going to find her.
Finally tiring of the swing, Clay ran toward them. Wade caught his son and lifted him high in the air, causing the boy to squeal and giggle. The bond between Wade and Clay was so strong that Emily could almost see it.
She watched them wistfully, reminded that she’d never had that relationship with her own father, who’d become hardened and embittered long before she was old enough to understand. Her half brother, the product of Josiah’s first marriage, had never gotten along well with their father. Emily had always suspected that he’d left town as much to escape his father’s constant criticism and disapproval as the rumors that had spread about him.
Wade set Clay on his feet, then turned to Emily with one hand still resting on his son’s shoulder. “Thank you for showing us around,” he said.
“You’re welcome. Would you like another cup of coffee before you go?”
“No, thank you. I promised Clay we’d have lunch and then take in a movie this afternoon. Would you like to join us?”
The invitation seemed spur-of-the-moment. Clay immediately seconded it, looking so sincere that it warmed Emily’s heart. She came very close to saying yes. The word hovered on the tip of her tongue for a long moment,
But then she shook her head. “Thank you, but I can’t. I have plans for the afternoon.”
The plans weren’t anything that couldn’t be postponed for a few hours, but Emily stuck to her excuse. She already found both Clay and his father dangerously appealing. It seemed to her that she would only be flirting with disaster if she got further involved with either one of them at this point.
Clay looked disappointed. If Wade felt a similar emotion, he hid it well. He merely nodded and said, “Thanks again for the tour. I’ll be in touch.”
Clay hugged Emily before they left. “‘Bye, Miss Emily.”
‘“Bye, Clay. Enjoy your movie.”
She watched them drive away with a wistfulness that made her wonder if she should have accepted their invitation, after all. And then she shook her head, thought again of her goals, and turned to walk back into her empty house. It would be her house for only a brief time longer, she reminded herself. And that was exactly the way she wanted it...right?
WHAT EMILY HADN’T considered when she’d made up her mind to resist Wade Davenport’s charms was the possibility that others, having concluded that she and Wade made a nice couple, would conspire to bring them together.
When Emily arrived at her aunt and uncle’s house for Sunday lunch, she found Wade and Clay already there.
“You remember Chief Davenport, don’t you, Emily?” her aunt Bobbie asked with an exaggeratedly innocent smile.
Emily gave her aunt a look that promised a long, serious conversation later, then forced a smile. “Of course.”
Clay threw his arms around Emily’s waist. “Hi, Miss Emily.”
Very aware of her aunt’s approving gaze, Emily returned the hug warmly. “Hi, Clay. I really like that shirt you’re wearing.”
Clay preened in his long-sleeved black T-shirt with a picture of Darth Vadar on the front “It’s new,” he said. “My daddy got it for me.”
“I didn’t, however, expect him to insist on wearing it to church and Sunday lunch,” Wade murmured. “I tried to talk him into something else, but he had his heart set on wearing this one, and it didn’t seem worth the battle to change his mind.”
“I think he looks just fine,” Emily assured him with a smile.
“Could have been worse, I guess. He could have wanted a tattoo.”
Emily laughed.