Colin had been a San Francisco policeman, then a detective there. He loved the big city—until his fiancée was killed. He had taken the job in the small picturesque town of Paradise Valley to escape her memory. That’s when he and Emily met, and when, according to him, he was captivated by her.
“I thought it was me you were anxious to return to, not this town,” Emily replied, feeling a little deflated.
“Absolutely—but I do have to admit that I was becoming attached to that place and the people in it. Before you know it, I’ll be back.”
“You better be, mister. I’ll admit it. I’m so lonely for you I can hardly stand it.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. I feel the same way.”
“Oh you do, huh?”
“Yes, I do.” Colin cleared his throat. “Emily, I—”
Emily’s attention was jerked away. “Knock, knock! Where are you, Emily?”
Camille and Isabel entered the house, calling for their host.
“I’m back here!” Emily shouted from the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Colin, the girls are here for our weekly girls’ night. You were saying something?”
“Well, I was but…you go have fun with the girls.”
“All right, Colin. Let’s talk again soon. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too—love you.” He quickly hung up, leaving Emily staring at her phone.
What? Did he just say he loved me?
There had always been a mutual attraction, a strong desire to be together, but neither of them had ventured into the deep waters of “I love you” yet. Before she had time to decide if she’d been hearing things or not, Camille and Isabel strolled into the kitchen.
“You look like someone just slapped you, Em.” Camille set her hot pan of lasagna down on the stovetop.
Emily shook her head and put a broad smile on her face. “Uh, no. I was saying good-bye to Colin on the phone.”
“How’s he doing? I’ll bet he misses you as much as you miss him.” Camille smiled as she rifled through the utensil drawer.
“I think you’re right.” Emily gave her friend a hug.
“I brought homemade meatballs,” Isabel proudly announced as she set her crockpot on the counter, lifting the lid to show Emily. She had been taking cooking lessons from Camille and was becoming quite accomplished. Camille was proud of her, but Maggie, the fitness queen, often gave her grief for the extra pounds she carried with her new love of cooking.
“Where’s Maggie?” Camille took the foil off her lasagna.
“Late, as usual.” Isabel stirred her meatballs and fresh marinara sauce around with a large spoon. That was Maggie’s one downfall, being notoriously late for just about everything. “She’ll probably be late for her own funeral.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Maggie shouted as she came through the door. All heads turned in her direction and the girls giggled. Emily hugged her and took her dinner contributions—a container of strawberry Gelato in a plastic grocery bag hanging from her arm and a bottle of red wine in each hand. “So, what did I miss?”
“Emily was on the phone with Colin when we walked in,” Camille reported. “She hasn’t said if there was anything new.”
“Was there? Anythin’ new, I mean?” Maggie asked.
Emily felt herself blush, and it did not go unnoticed. She hadn’t planned on saying anything, but being put on the spot as she was, she decided to just come out with it. “Well, nothing big.”
“Go on, Em, spit it out.” Camille’s bright blue eyes were wide with anticipation.
Emily could feel the heat of all their eyes on her. “Well, just as Colin was saying good-bye—”
“Out with it, Em!” Camille insisted.
“He said, ‘Love you,’ and then hung up.” Emily eyed her friends, waiting for a response. “It took me by surprise.”
“Did he actually say, I love you, or just a quick, love you?” Isabel questioned.
“What difference does it make, Isabel? He said the L word.” Maggie gave Emily a big hug.
“It makes a big difference—at least it would to me,” Isabel replied.
“I’ve decided I’m going to let it slide. I’m going to wait for the real, I love you, Emily, before I say it back.”
“That’s wise, Em,” Camille agreed. “Just make sure you let us know the second he says it. I’m going to be waiting on pins and needles, my friend.”
“Maybe not the second he says it,” Isabel added, grinning at Camille.
“Well, y’all, speakin’ of bein’ in love,” Maggie interjected, all eyes turning on her, “I have some news of my own.”