Free Emmalee by Jenni James Page A

checking out the store for my dad. 
He works there.”
               
The store?  I thought Elton worked at the Pinon Hills Golf
Course? 
All at once I became suspicious, and cautiously I
asked, “Who’s the guy you’ve been talking to?”
               
“Martin Roberts.”  He grinned while I stifled a
groan.  “You know, I’ve only been here—what
two, three weeks?  And I have to say that guy impresses me more
each time I see him.  I really think he’s one of Dad’s
best employees.  Anyway, so when I asked if he had a
girlfriend—you know—just teasin’ him, he mentioned
liking Hannah Smith. 
Your
Hannah Smith.” 
               
“Gee, you don’t say?”
               
“Crazy, huh?  I told him that I thought she was great and
he definitely wouldn’t find a nicer or friendlier girl in
Farmington.”
               
 “Wow.  You said that?”
               
“Sure.  So after about ten more minutes I convinced him to
ask her out.”
               
Good grief.
  “Ugh.”  I took the
flowers from Chase and headed into the kitchen, not caring if he
followed me.
               
Chase followed.  “Emma?  What did you mean by that?”
    “By what?”  I kept
walking.
               
“By that grunt just now.”
               
“Grunt?”  I marched over to the countertop and
deposited the flowers, surprising my mother slightly.  “These
are for you Mom, from Mrs. Anderson,” I explained.  “Chase
just brought them over.”
               
My mom looked up from her dough covered hands and arms and smiled
past me.  “Oh, thank you, Chase.  Tell Grace thanks,
and that I said she was very thoughtful.”
               
“I will,” he spoke right behind me as he casually took
hold of my elbow.  “Just wanted to drop those off, if
you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta run.”  Chase
turned on his heel and began to bring me with him.
               
“Okay, bye,” my mom called as Chase maneuvered me out of
the kitchen and into the hallway. 
               
“Will you knock it off?” I hissed.  I jerked my
elbow, but it wouldn’t budge from his grasp.  We were
walking much faster than necessary and Chase Anderson was seriously
beginning to get on my nerves. 
               
“Not until you tell me what that grunt meant,” he
replied.  Chase literally propelled me into our front room and
released my arm.  “Now talk,” he demanded as he shut
the door.
               
“Of all the stupidest, rudest, Viking-est things ever!” 
I walked right up to him with my hands on my hips.
               
“Viking-est?”  Chase grinned and one eyebrow rose.
               
I felt like smacking that grin right off his face.  “Yes. 
Viking-est.  What are you some Neanderthal caveman?  You
can’t go around dragging people like that.  This is the
twenty-first century, we’ve evolved since then.  I swear
Chase, if you—”
               
“Emmalee Bradford…”  He folded his arms
across his chest.  “You can rant and rave all you want,
but you’re not leaving this room until I get some answers.”
               
What?
  “You wouldn’t dare.”  I
stomped my foot.
               
His eyebrow rose higher.  “Wanna make a bet?”
               
This is ridiculous.
  I decided to take control of the
situation and let Chase come to me.  “Fine,” I
huffed, before I turned around and plopped down on a sofa. 
               
It worked.  He walked over and sat down on the couch across from
me.  Chase drilled his stubborn blue eyes right into mine. 
“So, what do you have against Martin Roberts?”
               
“Nothing.” 
As long as he stays away from
Hannah.
               
“Em-ma?”
               
He sounds like my stepdad. 
I