Poor Emily, Colin thought. No wonder she didn’t want to get involved with anybody from town.
His mother put her hand over his. “She’s a lovely girl, and I’ve always felt like the right person might help make her happier. She always seems sad to me, for some reason.”
He’d noticed that, as well. “Poor kid.”
His mother sighed. “She could use a good husband.”
Colin had to change the topic away from marriage—and Emily—in a hurry. “You know,” he finally said, “I thought maybe I’d stay here. One last night with you guys.” Even though the cot was even less comfortable than the couch, it would probably do wonders for his peace of mind. He’d been fixated on Emily for long enough.
“Oh, we’ll miss you, but I think you had the best idea,” his mother said breezily. “It’s far too crowded here with your brother and your sister and the grandkids. As long as you have the room at the inn, you might as well stay, right?”
“I suppose.”
“You know,” she added speculatively, “you’re right.”
Colin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He knew that look on his mother’s face. “I’m right how?”
“Emily isn’t dating the mayor yet,” she said, smiling mischievously.
He saw the light of hope in her eyes…and calculation.
Oh crap.
Good thing he was leaving in the morning, because one more day in Tall Pines could mean real trouble if his mother decided she’d found him a wife.
“EMILY, YOU LOOK great this evening,” Mayor Tim Ryfield said, sitting at the head of the dinner table at his house. “I’m so glad you could make it…especially since we’ve never had dinner together before.”
Emily forced a smile of her own. “A Stanfield has been a guest at the mayor’s Christmas party for the past fifty years, Tim,” she said. “I’m glad to attend.”
There. That showed that she still wasn’t really having dinner with him. The last thing she wanted was to date the mayor of Tall Pines, even though she was continually tossed together with him. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was some Getting Emily and Mayor Tim Married committee meeting on a monthly basis.
Ava Reese was probably the chairperson. She chaired nearly everything else.
Emily caught herself grinning at the traitorous thought. She blamed Colin’s influence. Not that they’d had much interaction in the two days he’d been staying with her. Still, the mere knowledge of his presence had been severely disquieting to her state of mind.
“Stanfields always do their duty,” Mayor Tim agreed. “You know, if you’d run against me for mayor, you probably would’ve won.”
“Why would I want to be mayor?” she asked, bewildered.
“I’m not saying that,” he corrected. “I’m saying you’re a big part of this town. People like you and trust you. They know they can count on you.”
She stared at him. “Tim, did you want me to be your campaign manager next year or something?”
He laughed. “That’s the other thing I like about you, Em. You’re honest and straightforward.”
“Honest, straightforward, trustworthy,” she muttered. “You’re making me sound like a Boy Scout. So spit it out. Why are you buttering me up?”
He looked thoughtfully at his roomful of guests. There were a lot of other people sitting around the large table—the mayor’s Christmas party was a long-standing tradition—but everyone else was involved in their own conversations, thankfully. Tim’s voice lowered.
“You know how everyone’s been matchmaking between us for the past year or so?”
She nodded heavily, feeling pained.
“I’ve been fighting it, too,” he pointed out. “But I’ve been thinking about it. And maybe, just maybe, they’re on to something.”
Her eyes widened. “I know you’ve asked me to dinner, but I’ve never really thought you’ve been serious about it.”
“I wasn’t,” he admitted. “But I’m not getting any younger. I’ve been focused on politics since I was in high school, Em.”
“I remember,” she said, shaking her head. “You were the only junior I knew who had a press kit.”
“It got me this far. And I’d like to go further. To do that, I’m going to need a wife.”
Now her eyes bugged out. “Holy crap, you’re not asking me to marry you, are you?”
As it happened, her statement popped out when there was a lull in all the other conversations. You could have heard a spoon drop. The entire table was riveted on the two of them.
“I’m not asking you to marry me—yet,” Tim said, eliciting a suggestive chuckle from the other partygoers. “I’m saying maybe we should try going out.”
“Oh, Tim,” Emily protested, shaking her head. “That’s not such a great idea.”
“Why not?” He managed to sound reasonable, even logical about it. “I’m not seeing anybody. And you’re not involved with anyone.” For a fraction of a second he looked tentative. “That is, you aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”
She closed her eyes. Unbidden, the image of Colin wearing just pajama pants sprang into her mind. The scent of him, the feel of his hands, his mouth…the wine-edged taste of his kiss.
“No,” she admitted, her voice ragged. “I’m not involved.”
And whose fault is that?
Not that a one-night stand really equaled involvement. That was the point of it, being one night, after all.
“So there you have it,” Tim said as if that was the only barrier to their relationship.
“You’re sweet, and we’ve known each other for a long time,” she said gently. “But—”
“You haven’t given this a fair shake,” he said implacably. “I know I’ve fallen into nice-guy syndrome with you, but if you give me a chance, I think you’ll discover we’re quite compatible.”
“Come on, Emily,” Mrs. Rutledge said from across the table. “You have to admit, you’ve been pretty chilly about the whole thing.”
“No harm in trying,” Mr. Rutledge added.
“One simple date is not going to kill you,” Mrs. Macnamara said, contributing her two cents.
Emily was appalled. Apparently they’d all ganged up on her tonight. “Let me think about it.” She saw that they were ready to ply her with a second assault, so she quickly said, “Oh, and by the way, I hear that there’s a big supermarket chain that’s trying to buy the Henderson lot.”
With that, she set off a tidal wave of debate—which was the point.
Under the cover of the heated rhetoric, she turned to Tim. “Don’t ever, ever put me on the spot like that again.”
“It wasn’t entirely my idea,” he said mildly. “You’re the one who yelped about a marriage proposal.”
“Well, I hate feeling cornered. And you’re a great guy, Tim, but I just don’t feel