“I hope it works out for them, too.” Had she considered dating herself? Or getting married in the future? Finally, he decided to just ask. “What about you?”
She used a napkin to wipe off her fingers and looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Nah, I’m not sure an older banker is for me.”
Marty laughed and shook his head. “Nice deflection.”
“Thank you.” She tilted her head at the clock on the wall. “We’d better get that tour in before it’s time to go.”
“You got it.” Marty wanted to know the answer to his question. Instead, he put the potato salad back in the fridge, made sure the table was clean, and then led her on a tour of the house.
Upstairs he showed her the five bedrooms—one of which was his own—and the two bathrooms. Downstairs were two more bathrooms plus the formal dining room and the television and game room.
“So this is where you watch your NCIS episodes.” Emma crossed her arms in front of her as she observed the projector screen on the wall. “I’ll bet it looks amazing up there.”
“It does.” He nudged her arm with his. “Maybe you could come over and we could watch an episode or two together.”
Emma turned toward him then, her eyes searching his face. “Look, if you’re asking me because of my situation or because—”
He wasn’t about to let that train of thought continue. Instead, he strode forward and cupped her face with his hands. “I’m asking because spending time with you is one of my favorite things. That means more of it is never a bad thing. Which leads me to a question.”
“And what’s that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Would you spend more time with me, Emma? Preferably outside of work…” He loved the smoothness of her skin against his hands.
She looked at him, her eyes a swirl of emotions. “Marty, I’m not sure…”
“I likeyou, Emma. I care aboutyou, exactly the way you are.”
“I’d like that,” she said, her voice soft.
With that, he slowly lowered his lips to hers. She stilled for a breath or two before her hand rested against his chest and her lips moved against his.
Marty pulled her close as he deepened the kiss. Everything he’d imagined was blown out of the water by reality. She smelled amazing, her lips tasted even better, and she fit perfectly in his arms.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against hers. “We’d better go. We can’t both leave Caleb hanging. Although, for the record, I wish we had more time.”
She nodded as she sucked on her bottom lip. A lip he now knew he’d never tire of kissing.
As Marty drove back to the gym, he was acutely aware of Emma’s arms around his waist. He wasn’t sure Emma truly believed her financial situation didn’t matter to him. It was weird, though. The relief of having told her was real, but so was the risk. The risk she might decide they were too different.
“God, I don’t even know what to pray except that we need Your guidance in our lives.”
14
The woman in the mirror stared back at Emma. She barely recognized her own reflection. Between the pair of worn shorts, an old T-shirt, and her hair pulled into a high ponytail, she looked like a much more relaxed version of herself. She’d even put on an older pair of sneakers so that, if she got paint on anything, it wasn’t a big deal if they got ruined.
What had she been thinking volunteering to come and help Marty paint his kitchen? She’d never painted anything before in her life. She was probably going to be in the way more than anything.
Emma frowned at her reflection. It was too late to back out now. Besides, she was looking forward to seeing Marty away from the gym.
After their kiss on Tuesday, she hadn’t known what to expect. But things had been nearly like normal. He’d maintained his professionalism during her class, flashed her frequent smiles, and didn’t flirt. At all. For some reason, she’d thought that might change. That he’d start asking her out again. Maybe Marty thought she needed more time. After all, she was the one who’d insisted he stop flirting.
Emma finally left the bathroom and went to the living room where she’d left her bag. Mom looked up from her spot on the couch and smiled. “You look cute, Em.”
“Thanks, Mom. You might not recognize me when I get back. I’m imagining myself covered in paint.”
Mom laughed. “Well, that would be something to see. Enjoy getting out and have fun.” She gave Emma a pointed look.
“I’ll try. We’re just going to be painting.” Emma had told Mom about Marty’s house, though she hadn’t shared about the kiss. By now, it seemed so perfect she often wondered if she’d imagined it.
