A Hot Winter (New Adult Romance) (The Attraction Series Book 2) (11 page)

Luckily the wind let up as they walked through Crib’s Tree Lot--an expansive plot of evergreens, arranged in haphazard aisles and illuminated by strings of white lights that crisscrossed overhead.  So far Emma hadn’t found a tree she wanted.  Now they wandered into a section of thick Alpine Spruce that seemed to close in on them, leaving only a narrow strip of aisle to walk. 

Matt kept his tone casual as he asked, “So where did Parker take you last night?”  Emma shot him a surprised look, and he explained, “I happened to see the personalized plate on my way out.”

“Oh.  We just went to a little French bistro in Newton,” she said offhandedly, reaching out to touch the needles of the tree directly in front of her.  “I’ve been there with Andy before.”

Nodding, Matt kept his eyes fixed on Emma’s profile.  “And you had fun?” he asked.

“I guess,” she said with a noncommittal shrug.

“How were his table manners?”  At that, she angled her head to eye him askance.  “You know,” Matt explained, “was he getting sauce everywhere or…chewing with his mouth open?”

She gave a little laugh then turned back to the trees.  “Uh, nothing comes to mind, so I’d say his manners were fine.”

“Well…did he pick up the tab?”

“Yes.”

Damn
. 

Matt stepped closer to her, leaving almost no space between them, nearly touching her back with his chest.  “Did he pull out your chair?” he asked, his voice dropping lower.  Being this close to Emma cast an erotic spell over him.

“I, uh, don’t remember,” Emma said, her voice cracking a little, making him think she felt it too.  He was painfully tempted to run his hands around her waist right now, to pull her flush against him, to stop pretending. 

Suddenly, Emma turned. “You seem very worried about Phil Parker’s love life.”

“Right,” Matt said, returning her sarcasm.

Giving him a mocking smile, she placed her palm on her chest.  “Really--your concern for your fellow man is…
heart
warming.”

“No, it’s not,” Matt stated flatly.  “I couldn’t care less about the guy.”

“Hmm, seems like it,” she remarked, before rounding the corner into the next aisle. 

“Look--it’s on the male DNA to size up the competition,” Matt explained to her back. 

At that, Emma squinted at him.  “How is Phil Parker competition?  There’s no contest.  You’re my friend.  Phil Parker is a virtual stranger.”

“A stranger?” Matt echoed, acting nonchalant about the implication--even as a possessive sense of relief spread through his chest.  So she hadn’t slept with Parker last night. Thank God.  The thought of Emma touching another guy, or letting a guy touch her, was painful to him.

“Pretty much,” she went on matter-of-factly.  “He picked me up, took me to the restaurant, we made small talk about the kids.  He told me all about his divorce--with very little prompting from me--and then drove me home.  See?  A stranger, more or less.”

“I see,” Matt said, quietly assessing Emma, before motioning to the tree behind her.  “What about this one?”

“Um…”  She glanced back, then pursed her lips.  “Too skinny.  I don’t want any Christmas tree that’s thinner than me.” 

Matt ignored her exaggeration and pointed to another one--a more majestic-looking one that he sensed was the winner.  “How about that one?”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” she started to say, but then shook her head.  “But it’s too big.”

“Emma, I’m carrying it and setting up, remember?”

“I know, but I’m the one who has to decorate it.”

He couldn’t argue that point.  “That’s true.  I don’t decorate,” he told her honestly.  Then, in a moment of weakness--what else was new when he was with her?--Matt said, “Though I suppose I could string the lights for you, if you want.”

Ten minutes later, the tree was purchased, tied up with string and settled in the back of Matt’s pickup truck.  Before Emma got to the passenger-side door, Matt said, “Wait--you thirsty?”  She paused and he added, “Let’s get a drink.”

“Where?”

“Lamplighter Pub.  Ever been there?”

“No.”

“Oh.  Well, turn around.  Now you have.”

“So what are you drinking?” Matt asked as they approached the bar. 

In an impulsive moment, Emma had agreed to a drink in the quaint-looking building that shared a parking lot with Crib’s nursery.  Though it was nearly buried in a thicket of evergreens, with only an old-fashioned street lamp to set it apart, Matt had apparently discovered the Lamplighter years ago and it was a favorite spot of his.  Tonight it was rustic with evergreen garland and festive strings of big colored bulbs.

Now Emma climbed up on a stool and said, “Um…I’ll have a Crazy Hat.”

Curiously, Matt asked, “What’s that?”

Offering a patronizing smile, she said, “Oh, nothing
you’d
like.”

Seeming amused, Matt lifted his eyebrows and challenged her:  “Now you know what I like?”

“I don’t see you as a pink-drink guy,” she explained breezily.

With a nod, Matt admitted, “Good call.”  Then he told the bartender, “A Crazy Hat and a Black and Tan.”

When he turned his attention back to Emma, she said, “So what’s
yours
?”

Imitating her condescension, Matt said, “Oh, it’s a rugged sort of drink,” and made a point of stretching back a little and patting his flat stomach.  “Nothing a pretty little thing like you would be interested in.”

“Really?” she said with a laugh, tilting her head at him.  As the bartender set their drinks in front of them, Emma went with another impulse.  “Let’s switch,” she said. 

“What’s that now?” Matt said, pausing before he took his glass.

“Let’s prove each other wrong.”

“All right,” Matt said, and slid the dark, ominous-looking drink toward her, as she passed him the pink one.  They both drank. 

“Hmm…” Emma managed, trying not to purse her lips.

“Huh,” Matt remarked, after sampling the Crazy Hat.

“Interesting…”

“Different…”

Emma’s poker face was the first to crack.  Her mouth distorted into a grimace.  “Blech,” she blurted.  “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

Laughing, Matt said, “That bad, huh?”  Miserably, she nodded.  “Switch back?

“Yes, please.”

“Thank God,” he said with a breath of relief.  “This is straight-up fruit punch.”

Giggling, she happily took her Crazy Hat back.  “So much for that sociological experiment.”

“Speaking of all your big words…” Matt began teasingly.  “You seem like the type of girl who reads a lot.  Am I right?”

“Actually, I read so much for work that I don’t do it as often on my downtime anymore.”

“So what do you like to do for fun then?” he asked conversationally.

Toying with the stirrer in her drink, Emma admitted, “Sometimes, after the boys go to bed, I really need to de-stress, so I go to my bedroom and…”  Matt’s eyes seemed to sharpen in anticipation.  “I like to do needlepoint,” she finished.

A beat passed before he said, “Needlepoint, wow.”  Then he snapped his fingers.  “Hey--my great-grandmother called.  She wants her hobby back.”

Emma burst out an indignant laugh.  “Oh, my God!” she said, giving him a shove.  “What a jerk!”  Matt laughed openly, causing a ripple of laughter in Emma, too.  “Sorry,” she
tsk
ed playfully, “we can’t all be as young and carefree as you.”

“Emma, we’re practically the same age,” Matt stated.  “Besides, I thought the crossword puzzles were to de-stress.”

“They are, but trust me: when you have kids someday you’ll understand the need to de-stress on a variety of levels,” she informed him.  Quickly she amended: “I mean…I shouldn’t assume anything.  I don’t know if you want to have kids or not.”

Matt nodded right.  “Yeah, of course I do.”

Emma smiled gently at him.  “I’m sure you’d be a great dad.”

“Matt?”

Both Matt and Emma turned at the interruption.

Emma’s heart dropped in her stomach when she saw who the voice belonged to--a girl with bright blue eyes, silky raven hair, and painted-on black pants that couldn’t have been bigger than a size 2.  To make the horrible sight even more stomach-churning for Emma, the girl was ridiculously pretty--and her eyes were fixed on Matt.

“Keri,” Matt said after a stunned moment. His face broke into an uncertain, almost guarded sort of smile.  “Hey…how’re you doing?” he asked as Keri reached over to hug him.  Simmering with jealousy, Emma noted that Matt hugged her back.  On the upside, his embrace appeared loose and sort of perfunctory, as though he’d given it out of obligation.  “What are you doing here?”

“I’m out with a couple of friends,” she said and pointed to two other girls, sitting at a far table.

“I’m just surprised to see you around here,” he said, pulling back.  “I thought you were living in Beacon Hill.”

“I was but…I moved.  I’m not too far from here now,” she said vaguely, then gave him a smile that was almost flirtatious.  But there was something tentative about it, too.  She appeared to be gauging his reaction to seeing her.  Emma absorbed the scene in silence, as her stomach churned acidly.  Obviously Keri and Matt were more than passing acquaintances.

“This is Emma,” Matt told Keri, stepping back and returning to his spot beside Emma’s stool.  Then she felt Matt’s hand on the small of her back and her heart jumped a little, both startled and oddly reassured by the intimate gesture.  “Emma, Keri,” he added, finishing the introductions. 

The two women exchanged bland hellos while each surely appraised the other with daggers in her heart.

Even though Matt appeared to be on a date, Keri was confident enough to linger.  “So Matt, how have you been?” she asked, acting like Emma wasn’t even there.  “This is so funny--running into you--because I sent you a message the other day.  Just asking how you were,” she explained.

Matt didn’t indicate if he received her message or not; he even let a moment of silence stretch on between them.  A voice in Emma’s mind told her to be mature about this--to excuse herself, go to the ladies’ room, and give Matt and his whatever-she-was a chance to talk. 

But another, louder voice in her head said:
Hell, no
.  It was true Emma had no claim on Matt, but still, she stayed exactly where she was, prepared to wait out the raven-haired, size-two hottie for as long as it took.  She sipped her Crazy Hat almost absently as Keri attempted to get a meaningful reunion going with Matt.

Finally, the girl seemed to accept defeat.  At least for now, Emma thought, as she took her last sip.  “Okay…well…I guess I’ll see you around,” Keri told Matt, offering one more beautifully crafted smile.

“Yep, take care,” he said and then turned toward Emma and noticed her glass was empty.  “Want another one?”  She nodded.  Matt kept his hand resting on Emma’s back while he got her a drink, and then gently nudged her along with him.  “Hey, let’s grab a table.”

“Okay,” she said, hopping off her stool and following his lead to a booth in the back corner of the bar.  Maybe she should be a friend and ask him who Keri was; but she didn’t truly want to know, at least not now. 

Once they sat down, Matt smiled at her and said, “Anyway…back to you and me.”

“You and me?” Emma echoed, surprised he’d said that.

“I mean, you know, as in: the conversation we were having before we were interrupted?  Now I think I was asking you what was so great in New York,” he said.

She gave him a knowing smirk. “You were not.  And I already told you: that’s where the magazine is moving, so that’s where I’m moving.”

“You like your job that much?” Matt asked, resting his arms on the table.  Emma found herself eyeing them appreciatively.  His forearms were thick and strong-looking…somehow they were just as sexy as his biceps…  A wave of lust lapped over her, heating her skin, flushing her cheeks.  Maybe a Crazy Hat (or two) on an empty stomach wasn’t the best plan.

“I do like my job for the most part,” she answered after a pause.  “It’s not just that, though.  Also I went to college in New York, so it’s not foreign territory.  I like it there.”  Not as much as Boston or Newton, but enough.  “And Connor’s family is there, so they can spend time with the boys…”  Her voice sort of trailed off because talking about Jake and Ben would only remind her how acutely she missed them, and then she might start crying again.   

“Not to be too personal, but…” Matt began cautiously.  “You got married really young, huh?”

With a nod, Emma said, “Yeah.  The truth is I got pregnant when I was a junior in college.  Obviously it was an accident--and
not
the highlight of my parents’ year,” she said with a deprecating laugh.  “But they loved Connor, and he proposed right away, so…”

“I see.”

“We were married before Jake was born, and I did end up finishing my degree, despite my mom’s worst fear that the baby would derail my education.  Connor was in ROTC, so after college, he went overseas,” she finished, skipping over the obvious sad ending to that story.

“It sounds like you’re still close with Connor’s family,” Matt remarked.

“Yes, I suppose.  I mean, they want to be close with me.  Not just because they have a relationship with Jake and Ben, but also, I think it makes them feel close to Connor to relive ‘old times’ with me.  But honestly?  It can get kind of toxic.”

Matt’s dark eyes were warm as he studied her.  “Toxic how?”

Emma shrugged and said, “I don’t know.  Sometimes it feels like they tell the same stories over and over to try to make sure I still feel all the old feelings exactly the same…”  She expelled a troubled sigh.  “I feel like they don’t want me to move on.”

“By move on, you mean…find someone else?” Matt asked cautiously.

“I don’t know,” she said, almost retracting, “maybe I’m being unfair to them.  It just feels like they don’t ever want that wound to heal.  For any of us.”  With a shaky kind of laugh, she said, “God, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this!”  Abruptly she changed directions.  “Enough about me.  How’s your Brown and Tan?”

“It’s a
Black
and Tan.”

“Whatever, it’s nasty,” she said.

He gave a laugh.  “I see how it is.  A couple drinks in you and you’ve already got a little attitude going,” he said.  His smile and tone of voice were unmistakably flirtatious.  Emma felt heat come to her cheeks as she grinned at him.  There was no doubt about it: she was being torn in opposing directions.  On one side of the fence was level-headedness.  On the other was lust--and the part of her heart and body that wanted to flirt back.