Small Town, Big Hope

Chapter15

Emma told herself she wasn’t waiting for Wade to text her.

That would have been ridiculous.

They’d had coffee.

That was it.

An accidental cup of coffee after running into each other on Main Street hardly qualified as anything worth thinking about.

Which was exactly why she found herself glancing at her phone when it buzzed later that afternoon.

Wade: Did you survive the grocery store?

Emma smiled before she could stop herself.

Emma: Barely. It was touch and go for a while.

His reply came almost immediately.

Wade: I knew I should’ve gone with you.

Emma: And what exactly would you have contributed?

Wade: Moral support.

Emma: You would’ve put things in my cart I didn’t need.

Wade: You don’t know me well enough to make accusations like that.

Emma leaned against the kitchen counter.

Emma: You drink black coffee. I already question your judgment.

There was a pause.

Then—

Wade: You seemed pretty interested in my judgment when your sink was leaking.

Emma laughed out loud.

Luke glanced up from the table.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He looked at her phone.

“Did someone send you something funny?”

“Apparently.”

Luke accepted that and went back to his book.

Emma looked down as another message appeared.

Wade: How’d the boys do today?

Her smile softened.

Emma: Christian loved it. Obviously.

Wade: Obviously.

Emma: Luke made it through the whole day.

This time Wade didn’t respond quite as quickly.

Wade: That’s a pretty big deal, isn’t it?**

Emma stared at the message.

He remembered.

Not just that Luke had been nervous.

Why it mattered.

Emma: Huge.

Wade: Tell him the plumbing inspector’s proud of him.

Emma laughed again.

Emma: Absolutely not. His ego is already out of control.

Wade: Fair point.

She thought the conversation was over.

Then another message appeared.

Wade: I had a good time today.

Emma hesitated before answering.

Emma: Me too.

Three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Finally—

Wade: Even with the black coffee?

Emma smiled.

Emma: Let’s not get carried away.

After that, Wade started appearing on her phone more often.

Not constantly.

He didn’t text her first thing in the morning or expect her to answer every few minutes.

It was usually something small.

A picture of an absurd plumbing repair someone had attempted before calling him.

Wade: You think Luke would approve?

Emma: Absolutely not. He’d probably report you for letting it exist this long.

Or Emma would send him something she saw in town.

A handwritten sign outside the hardware store that read BACK IN 10ISH MINUTES.

Emma: Very professional town you people run here.

Wade: “Ish” is legally recognized in Hickory Ridge.

Emma: That explains a lot.

Somewhere along the way, Emma stopped being surprised when she saw his name on her phone.

Then she started looking forward to it.

She didn’t tell Kinsley that.

Kinsley already knew too much.

Thursday evening, Emma was stretched across the couch after the boys went to bed when her phone buzzed.

Wade: Important question.

Emma tucked one leg beneath herself.

Emma: This sounds serious.

Wade: Extremely.

Emma: Should I sit down?

Wade: Probably.

Emma smiled.

Emma: Okay. I’m ready.

Wade: Sweet tea or unsweet?

Emma stared at her phone.

Emma: That was your important question?

Wade: Answer carefully.

Emma: Sweet.

His reply came immediately.

Wade: Good.

Emma: Was there a wrong answer?

Wade: We might’ve had to stop talking.

Emma laughed.

Emma: Over tea?

Wade: People have standards, Emma.

Emma: Says the man who drinks coffee like someone forgot to finish making it.

Wade: You’re never letting that go.

Emma: Probably not.

A few seconds passed.

Then—

Wade: What are you doing Saturday night?

Emma’s smile faded slightly.

Not because she didn’t like the question.

Because she knew exactly where it was going.

Saturday was Jackson’s weekend with the boys.

Christian had already packed his baseball glove. Luke’s overnight bag was sitting beside his bedroom door.

Emma had no plans.

Emma: Nothing. Why?

This time the typing bubble stayed there longer.

Wade: Because I’d like to take you to dinner.

Emma sat up.

There it was.

Her heart started beating faster than it had any business beating over a text message.

She typed something.

Deleted it.

Typed again.

Deleted that too.

Finally—

Emma: Like dinner dinner?

The response came almost immediately.

Wade: Is there another kind?

Emma rolled her eyes.

Emma: Wade.

Wade: Yes, Emma. A date.

She stared at those two words.

A date.

Not coffee because she owed him.

Not running into each other downtown.

Not Wade fixing something in her house.

A date.

Her first instinct was to think of every reason she shouldn’t.

She was separated.

Still legally married.

The boys were still adjusting.

Luke had already dealt with more changes than she wanted to count.

Christian was finally settling into school.

Her relationship with Jackson had only recently become something other than hostile.

Going on a date seemed like asking for another complication.

Then another message appeared.

Wade: You can say no.

Emma looked at it.

Emma: I know.

Wade: Just making sure.

She smiled.

That was Wade.

No pressure.

No dramatic declaration.

Just a question and room for her to answer it honestly.

Emma looked toward the hallway where the boys were sleeping.

For so long, every decision she made had started with what somebody else needed.

Luke.

Christian.

Jackson.

Her family.

She was learning that considering herself didn’t automatically mean she was neglecting everyone else.

And the truth was painfully simple.

She wanted to go.

Emma typed before she could talk herself out of it.

Emma: Yes.

There was a pause.

Wade: Yes, you’ll go?

Emma: No, Wade. Yes, I suddenly developed a strong opinion about tea.

Wade: There she is.

Emma laughed.

Emma: Yes. I’ll go to dinner with you.

Wade: Saturday. 6:30.

Emma: Where?

Wade: I’m not telling you.

Emma narrowed her eyes at the phone.

Emma: I don’t like surprises.

Wade: Noted.

A second message came through.

Wade: I’ll tell you what to wear.

Emma: That somehow sounded worse.

Wade: Nice. Casual. No work boots required.

Emma: I don’t own work boots.

Wade: We’ll fix that eventually.

Emma shook her head.

Emma: Goodnight, Wade.

Wade: Running away already?

Emma: Before you say something else irritating.

Wade: Saturday at 6:30.

Emma smiled.

Emma: Goodnight.

Wade: Goodnight, Emma.

She set the phone against her chest.

Then immediately picked it back up and read the conversation one more time.

Saturday.

A date.

With Wade.

Emma looked toward the ceiling.

“What am I doing?”

Her phone buzzed again.

Wade: And Emma?

She stared at the screen.

Emma: What?

Wade: I’m glad you said yes.

Emma bit back a smile.

Emma: Goodnight, Wade.

Wade: That smile means you’re glad too.

Emma froze.

Then looked instinctively around the empty living room.

Emma: You can’t even see me.

Wade: Didn’t have to.

Emma tossed her phone onto the couch.

The smile stayed anyway.