Wild Chance (Wilder Irish #13) - Mari Carr Page 0,3

and had actually researched cruises, thinking she could spend the holidays drinking mai tais on some Caribbean beach, and flirting with some hot island waiter.

When Padraig invited her to Christmas with his family, she decided that was a much better offer. She was crazy about the Collins family…and Padraig. She’d always known that he wasn’t looking for a relationship, wasn’t interested in dating, so she’d tucked her attraction away.

However, as more time passed, their just friends state was beginning to chafe.

Her phone rang, rousing her from her melancholy state. “Speak of the devil,” she murmured to herself when Padraig’s face appeared on the screen.

“Happy Christmas Eve,” she said as she answered, forcing as much cheerfulness into her voice as she could muster.

“Right back atcha,” Padraig said with a chuckle, his tone more natural than hers. “Having a good night?”

“Yeah. It was great,” she lied. “How was dinner at your parents’ house?” she asked, hoping to deflect before he asked for details about her less-than-great night.

“The same as always. Loud—thanks to Kelli and Colm. And this year, with the addition of the twins, I’m pretty sure I have permanent hearing damage.”

She laughed. “If you haven’t suffered hearing loss from your family before now, I suspect you’ll recover just fine.”

“Still on for tomorrow?” he asked.

“Of course,” she quickly replied. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Good. We’ve got a big surprise for Pop Pop this year. Something we’re hoping will take his mind off the pub.”

Emmy swallowed heavily to dislodge the lump in her throat that appeared whenever she thought about the fire that had ravaged Pat’s Pub just a few weeks earlier. “What is it?”

“Nope. Not telling. I know how susceptible you are to Pop Pop’s charms. If he figures out something’s up, you’ll be the first one he questions.”

Emmy grinned with amusement but didn’t bother to deny it. “I’d like to defend myself against that, but who are we fooling? That man bats those chocolate-brown eyes at me and I forget my own name.”

“Celebration starts at one,” he reminded her, though it wasn’t necessary. She’d had the date and time circled on her calendar for months.

“I was thinking,” she said, the wine prompting her to speak before her too-reasonable brain could shut her up.

“Yeah?”

“Would you want to go out sometime…after the holidays?”

“We go out all the time, Em.”

Emmy had two choices.

Backpedal or forge on.

The queen of backpedaling when it came to Padraig, she actually shocked herself when she said, “I mean on a date.”

Chardonnay for the win.

“Oh.” And then there was a pause. “Em.” Another pause—this one more painful than the one before.

She started to let him off the hook. To tell him to forget it. To blame the wine. But she held her tongue. Because she was tired of pretending…of hiding…of playing things cool.

“Em. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s…I’m not ready to start dating again. I think it’s better if we just stay friends.”

The part of her that lacked all self-preservation held on for a split second, waiting, wishing, wanting him to add two more words to that assertion.

For now.

If he would include for now…she would keep waiting. God, part of her feared she’d wait forever if he said those words.

But he didn’t say them.

“Okay. Yeah. I didn’t meant to…I…I’m sorry, Paddy. Too much wine tonight. Went straight to my head,” she said, trying to make light of her disappointment and failing pretty spectacularly. She dug deeper and managed to pull just-friends Emmy out of the rubble. “It’s totally cool. Honest. We’re always going to be great friends.”

“Best friends,” he added quietly.

“Best friends,” she agreed, wishing that made her feel better. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

The silence that followed told her he wanted to say more, but, like her, it appeared he didn’t know how to recover from this. So he let them both off easy.

“Sure thing. See you tomorrow.”

Emmy sat in her car outside the restaurant for a moment, trying to get out of her head, wishing she wasn’t still hung up on that damn phone call from Christmas Eve.

Five weeks had passed, but the memory of that conversation kept coming back to her, playing itself over and over in her brain. That night, while devastating, had been a wake-up call, a turning point, because she realized just how pathetic she’d become, hoping to win the heart of a man who’d already given his to someone else.

She’d spent Christmas with the Collins family, managing to put her and Padraig back on steady footing, joking around, keeping