“Clay’s afraid that Cecilia isn’t happy in Honoria. I was going to ask if you thought it would be okay if I introduce her to some people around town.”
“You could try, I guess. Cecilia’s shy. And she’s homesick for Atlanta. She came with us because she didn’t want to say goodbye to Clay, but I’m not sure it’s going to work out. I thought if she could get involved with an active seniors’ group it would help, but she hasn’t shown much interest in meeting people.”
Emily lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “A seniors’ group?”
He nodded. “She’s sixty-six. She’d already raised a couple of kids of her own when she came to work for me. She was widowed, and lonely because both her children have moved away—one lives in California, the other in England. A mutual acquaintance brought us together, and it has worked out very well until now.”
For some reason, Emily had assumed the housekeeper was younger. No wonder the woman had been reluctant to start over at this point in her life. “What will you do if she retires? Will you look for another full-time housekeeper?”
Wade shook his head. “Probably not. Now that Clay’s in school, I really only need someone in the afternoons, except during school breaks, of course. He and I can make do for ourselves when I’m home from work.”
Emily wondered if Wade ever thought of remarrying. He was still a young man, only a year or two over thirty, at most. She hadn’t heard of him dating anyone in town yet, but surely he needed more in his life than his son and his work. Was he still in mourning for his wife, five years after her death?
Not that it was any of her business, of course, she reminded herself hastily.
Wade cleaned his plate in record time. “That was really good,” he repeated after swallowing the last bite.
“I have chocolate cake,” she said enticingly, wondering if his sweet tooth was as well developed as Clay’s. Clay had attacked his dessert with amusing enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t you like just a small piece for dessert?”
“Chocolate cake?” Wade repeated, his eyes brightening. “With chocolate frosting?”
“At least an inch of chocolate frosting,” she promised with a smile.
“Oh, man, I’ve gone from a hellish day to a heavenly evening.”
“Does that mean yes, you want some cake?”
He grinned. “Yes, I want some cake.”
“Help yourself to more milk if you like while I cut you a slice.”
He filled his glass to the brim again. “I’ll pay for this, but it’ll be worth it,” he murmured, sitting back down to greedily eye the generous serving of rich chocolate cake Emily had set in front of him. “Aren’t you having any?”
“I had my dessert earlier, with Clay. I’d better resist having more tonight.”
He gave her an assessing look that brought warmth to her cheeks. “You hardly have to worry about your figure,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows in a mock leer.
A bit flustered, she reached quickly for her glass. “I...um...try to watch what I eat,” she muttered.
To her relief, he let it go, turning his attention back to the dessert.
There wasn’t a chocolate crumb left on his plate when he finished, nor a drop of milk left in his glass. He patted his flat stomach. “Worth every calorie,” he declared.
Emily couldn’t help looking at him in much the same way he’d looked at her earlier. Wade didn’t need to count calories, either, she thought. She found his solid build very appealing. Just as she found everything about Wade Davenport appealing.
She rose quickly to carry her glass to the dishwasher. Wade followed with his own dishes, which he rinsed and stacked into the dishwasher with a casualness that spoke of experience. Apparently, Cecilia had her men well trained, since Clay had also matter-of-factly cleared away his own dishes.
She closed the dishwasher and turned, only to find herself suddenly, unexpectedly, only inches away from Wade.
He didn’t move.
“I—er—excuse me,” she said, shifting to go around him.
He placed his hand on her arm and held her where she was. “I think you really have cast a spell over me, Emily McBride,” he muttered, his eyes locked on her mouth with an expression that resembled the hunger he’d shown for his dinner earlier. “Why is it that I can’t stop thinking about you?”
She supposed if she knew the answer to that, she would know why she couldn’t stop thinking about him. “Wade—”
“I can’t get you—or your taste—out of my mind. I want to kiss you again.”