Unexpectedly Hers(43)

Spending so much time managing her mom’s postdivorce depression had seriously hampered Emma’s ability to relate to and trust men, too. Worse, maybe her mom’s harping on the evils of men and sex had made her a tiny bit bitter. Could that be why she’d treated Wyatt’s supposed interest like a felony instead of flattery?

Wyatt continued talking about why he wasn’t dating. “I’ll be traveling around the world this winter, assuming I qualify for the bigger competitions. Life on the road isn’t the best recipe for a relationship.”

Mrs. Pellman waved a disgusted hand in his face. “Pish posh. You young people think you have forever to figure this stuff out. But before you know it, you’ll wonder how life went by so fast. You’ll wonder why you didn’t spend more time with people and less time at work or on those gizmos everyone always has in their hands. I swear, every time my Maureen takes me out to dinner, all I see are people sitting around tables ignoring each other to look at Snapface.”

“Snapchat?” Wyatt offered.

“It’s all tomfoolery, no matter what you call it. It isn’t real.” Mrs. Pellman leaned toward Wyatt. “Why don’t you want something real?”

Wyatt rocked back, hands raised in surrender. “I never said I didn’t.”

“You have a bit of scoundrel about you yet. Still wondering if the grass is greener somewhere else?” The old woman shook her head then reached for Wyatt’s hand. “I gardened for fifty years, and let me tell you one thing: Grass is only green when you tend to it night and day. You remember that, young man.”

Rather profound of Mrs. Pellman. Wyatt looked a little out of his depth at this point, so Emma rushed in to his rescue, thankful that the conversation had veered away from her and her secrets.

“Okeydoke. On that note, I think it’s time for bingo. Today’s prize is a home-cooked meal of your choice by moi. Who’s in?”

Emma’s heart swelled when everyone’s hand shot into the air. She may not have Kelsey’s beauty or Avery’s brains, but she could cook, and she had the affection of these wonderful, wise men and women. The opinions of those who’d lived long enough to see what matters most were special to her, even if those opinions didn’t keep her warm at night.



“For such a wholesome girl, I’m surprised you encourage this sinful bit of gambling,” Wyatt teased, disappointed he’d failed to dig up any tidbit about Emma from the old folks.

“It’s hardly gambling.” She cocked a single, red brow in challenge. “More like a raffle.”

“Raffles are a form of gambling. And if you need proof that gambling is a sin, consider the fact that all the numbers on a roulette wheel add up to 666.” He crossed his arms triumphantly.

“Only someone very familiar with sinning would know that bit of trivia.” Emma quipped, her eyes sparkling. His heart pinged when she played along, and he wished very much that they weren’t in a room full of people and cameras. He shouldn’t continue the banter with Mari and the crew filming, but he was powerless to stop himself from seeing where it might lead. He simply needed to know.

“Life without any sin is boring, Saint Emma.” Wyatt watched her eyes narrow before he smiled and glanced around the small crowd clutching their bingo cards. “Don’t you all agree?”

“I do!” exclaimed Mrs. Ritter, then she and her cronies tittered.

“You know what? I’m feeling lucky.” Wyatt turned back to Emma. “Where’s my card?”

“What?” Emma asked.

“Don’t I get to play?” Wyatt noticed Mari staring at him while whispering something to Jim. “I’d like a home-cooked meal.”

Wyatt heard Mrs. Pellman let out a little cluck behind him.

“I’m already cooking for you every night this month, saint that I am.” Emma’s smug expression amused him.

“Maybe I’ll come back some other time to collect.” Wyatt surprised himself with the comment, and then felt his cheeks heat when Mr. Tomlin muttered to someone else behind him, “Not a bad line, if I do say so myself.”

Mari whispered to Jim, who then focused the camera on Emma’s face.

Wyatt shouldn’t continue to flirt with Emma. He knew enough about her to realize she preferred to blend into the background. He just wanted . . . something from her. Something she kept withholding. Something he suspected would be remarkable if he could only experience it for himself.

Not surprisingly, Emma played it cool and handed him a bingo card without retort, which suggested she had noticed Mari’s piqued interest also. Wyatt sat beside Mrs. Pellman, who whispered conspiratorially, “I wanted to win, but now I hope you do.”