A Town Called Valentine(60)

“If I recollect,” Nate drawled, “I was the one who got in trouble for his broken arm, which wasn’t fair, considering I was nowhere near the barn when it happened.”

“That’s how it is with family,” Mrs. Palmer said brightly. “We’re responsible for each other.”

“I never had any brothers or sisters,” Emily said, feeling wistful.

And then for the first time it occurred to her that she actually might. Nate was watching her as if he knew what she was thinking. She wasn’t ready to go public with what she knew, because that was what would happen if she told the widows. They’d make lists and go interview every man of the right age, a Valentine spectacle.

Because they cared, she reminded herself in wonder.

“You should have seen Josh’s reaction when Nate went off to college, and he couldn’t go,” Mrs. Thalberg said, shaking her head. “He was twelve, and a handful, as boys are at that age.”

“They don’t grow out of that,” Emily said dryly.

The widows twittered with laughter, and Nate rolled his eyes.

“It’s hard to be the only man at a hen fest,” was his response. “Grandma, isn’t there something that needs fixing?”

“Don’t you want to hear how Josh moped for days after you left?” Mrs. Thalberg demanded. “He even ran away, saying he was going to Colorado State with you.”

He went still. “I didn’t know that.”

Mrs. Thalberg patted his hand. “Your mom probably didn’t want to worry you. We found him that night, camping on his way to Ft. Collins, him and his dog and his horse.”

Nate smiled faintly. “That was a good dog.”

“Enough reminiscin’,” Mrs. Palmer said. “Emily, now that you’re workin’ at Monica’s—”

“I haven’t started yet.”

“Well, when you do, give me a call, and I’ll come in and talk about a flower order for the preservation committee. We like to congratulate each business when they open or finish renovations after usin’ the grant money.”

“That’s really nice of you. I’ll call.”

“She makes it sound so subtle and tasteful,” Nate said. “It wasn’t always flowers they offered for grand openings.”

Mrs. Thalberg laughed out loud.

“Nathaniel Thalberg,” Mrs. Palmer said with mock indignation. “Your teasin’ is uncalled for.”

“Oh, come on, don’t you remember when the toy store opened? You had free giveaways for the kids—”

“To encourage the parents to attend and become payin’ customers!” Mrs. Palmer interrupted.

“But you gave away cap guns! Nobody even uses them anymore. I don’t know how you found them.”

Mrs. Ludlow sniffed. “We were harkening back to childhood memories.”

Nate leaned toward her. “It deteriorated into a disaster when all the kids were firing cap guns in the store, and the too-sensitive smoke detectors went off, sending everyone running out onto Main Street.”

“And the sprinklers?” Emily squeaked.

“Not enough smoke to set them off. The smoke detectors had to be recalibrated.”

“We were lucky,” Mrs. Thalberg said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “The bill for water damage could have put the committee out of business.”

Emily found her gaze trapped in Nate’s as they at first shared their amusement, until it changed into something intimate. By the time they were in the pickup, intimate had turned into smoldering. She enjoyed his company too much, his sense of humor, his thoughtfulness to his grandmother. He was luring her in without trying to. It was so seductive to feel desirable, to know that she could affect him as much as he affected her. He didn’t look at her as he drove, but his eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched. It was as if he realized that every time they were alone, the passion between them burned just a little brighter, a little hotter.

In the shade of the alley behind her building, he stopped so suddenly, it sent her purse tumbling to the floor. Swearing, he reached for it at the same time she did, and they bumped heads. As they both turned to apologize, their gazes met and held, and suddenly, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Before she knew it, their mouths came together in a fierce, hot kiss that burned away her fake shell of friendly indifference, turning her into a woman greedy for passion. His hand cupped her head and she arched even farther toward him, both restrained by their seat belts.