The Wedding She Always Wanted (12 page)

Still reeling from the kiss, Emily couldn’t seem to make herself move on legs that felt as wilted as whatever was left of the vegetables. “Javy—”

“I’ve got it,” he bit out. In two steps he dumped the pan in the sink, turned on the water and hit the switch to start the exhaust fan over the stove whirling.

The fire alarm sputtered, then quit after a final bleat or two, leaving a smoky silence to fill the kitchen.

Emily’s heart was still pounding in her throat, limiting her breaths to quick pants, but with a rough shake of his head, Javy seemed to dismiss everything that had just happened: the kiss, the smoke alarm and his reaction to it.

“Sorry about that.” He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing out the rough edges left by her fingers and smothering the flames. “When I said I wanted to show off my skill in the kitchen, flambé wasn’t what I had in mind. You better go have a seat before this kitchen goes up in smoke.”

“You could always take the other pot off the stove,” she suggested hopefully.

“It’s not the stove I’m worried about,” he said, the heat in his eyes making her feel like
she
was on fire.

But instead of kissing her again, he took a step back. “Give me another few minutes and dinner will be ready.”

Emily nodded, but Javy didn’t notice. He’d already turned away, leaving her to stare at his broad back and wish she could turn back time.

Had anyone asked, Javy would have sworn he didn’t have a seduction routine. That every woman was different and therefore every date was different. But only now, seated at the table across from Emily, did he realize the one thing that was always the same—him. Whether he took his date out for a night on the town, hopping from one Scottsdale club to another, or out to some five-star restaurant or on a picnic by the lake,
he
never changed.

“I’m thinking that I’ve been somewhat monopolizing our conversations. You know all about me, and I don’t know nearly as much about you,” Emily said.

They’d just finished dinner, and Emily’s voice had an overly bright quality, as if he should expect to see a TV camera or microphone nearby. His fault, he knew, because of the silence that had fallen between them after he’d pulled away from that kiss instead of taking things a step further.

It was what he would have done any other night of the week, with any other woman. But he’d never lost control like
he did with Emily. A part of him always knew what he was doing at any given moment in any given relationship.

To completely lose it with Emily was unacceptable. To completely lose it and almost start another freakin’ fire was like fate slapping him upside the head. Reminding him of what could happen if he let himself get distracted. Of how much he could lose.

He needed to get back in control. To keep things light, fun, free of the heavy emotions that always bogged relationships down. Not an easy thing to do when the reminder of how completely he’d lost it still filled the house with the faint smell of smoke.

“You know I’m friends with Connor,” he pointed out, forcing his thoughts back to the conversation. “You’ve met some of my family. You’ve been to the restaurant.”

“And you know that I’ve let my parents dictate my entire life, that I nearly married a man I didn’t love to please them and that my former fiancé proposed only to try and get into his family’s good graces after getting their maid pregnant. I’d say you have the upper hand.”

He didn’t want that, not when he knew Emily had spent most of her life feeling that way, but he didn’t want to spill his guts like he’d suddenly found himself on
Dr. Phil
, either.

And yet wouldn’t Emily expect that? For him to express his
feelings?
To be open and honest and reveal all the emotional scars he’d kept hidden for so long? To talk about Stephanie, his father and the fire at the restaurant, all the things he’d done his best to ignore for years?

His muscles already tensing, he asked, “What do you want to know?”

Resting her chin on her interlaced fingers, Emily stared at him until he actually shifted beneath her gaze. What question did she want to ask that she had to think about for so long?

Finally, she said, “I’ve been wondering…What’s your favorite color?”

“My…what?” Javy rocked back in his chair with a startled laugh.

“Favorite color. Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone has one.”

She flashed a teasing grin, and even though he knew she wasn’t letting him off the hook, he appreciated the brief reprieve. Looking into her gorgeous eyes, he answered, “Turquoise.”

“Turquoise? Not blue? Not green?”

“Turquoise,” he repeated.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that being someone’s favorite color before,” she mused.

“It wasn’t mine until recently.” He paused. “It’s the color of your eyes.”

“I always thought my eyes were blue,” she said, slanting a seductive gaze at him from beneath her lashes.

“They are, but they have these dark specks, like the marks on a piece of turquoise, which make each stone unique, mysterious. Just like you.”

A soft blush lit Emily’s cheeks, and her teasing smile faded away. For a moment, everything faded away until it was only the two of them and nothing more existed beyond their focus on one another. “I, um…what about music?”

Javy shrugged. “All kinds. Especially songs you can dance to.”

“And I should know. You’re a really good dancer.”

“My mother taught me when I was a kid. She thought it was something every young man should know how to do.”

Not that Javy followed her rules. He certainly hadn’t obeyed Maria’s rule of maintaining a proper distance. But keeping any kind of distance had been the last thing on his mind when he’d held Emily in his arms. It had taken all his
willpower not to crush her body to his until nothing—not space, not breathing room—nothing separated them.

Something of his thoughts must have showed in his face, or maybe her own memories of the dance made Emily’s breath catch. “I don’t know about every young man, but I can guarantee that you are the only man who could have gotten me to dance in front of all those people at what should have been my wedding.”

The only man…
It had been a long time since he’d been a woman’s
only.
He’d fooled himself into believing he’d been Stephanie’s only, only to find out the hard way how wrong he’d been. “Emily…”

As if sensing the turmoil inside him, she instantly changed the subject, quizzing him on movies and hobbies and sports. But when she paused a second time, Javy sensed another innocent question was not going to follow.

Leaning back in her chair, she adopted a casual air, which she didn’t quite pull off, as she asked, “Any serious relationships?”

He could have lied. Could have offered a smile and given the easy too-many-women-too-little-time response, denying that Stephanie and the young, foolish boy who had loved her had ever existed. But the words he’d spoken to Emily’s father rang in his head—his vow that he was nothing like Emily’s fiancé.

He’d be lying to Emily and cheating her of an honest response if he told her anything but the truth.

“One,” he admitted finally. “A long time ago.”

Emily blinked, taken off guard, but by what, he wasn’t sure—that he’d admitted to the relationship or that he’d even
had
one. “How serious?”

“We were engaged,” he said.

“Oh,” she said softly, sounding even more surprised. “What happened?”

“We broke up.”

The three words did little to explain the whole story, and he could hardly blame Emily when she stared at him, waiting for more. “You broke up? That’s it? That was the end of it?”

“Pretty much.” Stephanie’s running off to marry another guy had been the actual end of the relationship.

He’d been devastated, crushed by her betrayal. And he’d learned his lesson. Not to get emotionally involved, not to fall in love. To keep relationships fun and superficial and short.

It was a vow he’d kept for years…until now.

T
hanks to Todd, Emily thought, she had learned her lesson when it came to her inability to read men. Obviously she hadn’t. At least not well enough to keep from getting hurt by Javier Delgado.

Not that he’d done anything to hurt her exactly. How could he have, when she hadn’t seen him since their date?

They’d talked briefly by phone, with Javy explaining how busy he was getting the restaurant ready for the reopening. And she was busy, too. Emily had found a handful of design students willing to volunteer on behalf of the women’s shelter and alter the donated clothes for the fashion show, while Cassie had agreed to loan the women anything they needed in the way of accessories. Angela and Lauren had been ecstatic, coordinating with other women who wanted to be their “fashion” models.

Emily had also talked to her sister. Aileen had been so in
trigued by the idea that she’d asked several friends to participate in the show. One had even arranged for the event to be held at a Scottsdale hotel, thanks to a last-minute cancellation.

Her tiny idea had sprouted wings and was soaring so high, Emily was terrified to look down, too afraid she would lose her courage and fall from the sky.

So it wasn’t like Javy was the only thing on her mind or like she had nothing better to do than spend time thinking of him. But busy or not, she would have made time to see him.

That is, if he’d wanted to see her.

She’d sensed something was wrong when he picked her up for their date. She still wasn’t sure why they’d gotten off to a rocky start, but by the end of the evening, she had had no doubt why he’d pulled away.

It was all her fault.

No matter how many times she reminded herself their relationship was only fun and games and nothing to be taken seriously, she wanted more. She longed for Javy to confide in her the way she found it so easy to confide in him, so she’d pushed.

Instead of letting his comment about a past engagement go, she’d crossed a line and tried to get into his head. Because the painful truth was, when it came to Javy, she wanted more; she wanted everything.

She was falling for him, and there was nothing fun about it. Especially now that she realized why he refused to commit to a woman. He’d never gotten over his first love. His fiancée was the only woman in his past who mattered; the string of serial dates to follow was nothing but a symptom of heartbreak.

Somehow that made her own heart ache even worse, knowing he could love a woman, but that woman wouldn’t be her.

“Is something wrong, ma’am?”

It took a moment for Emily to hear the masculine voice ad
dressing her. She didn’t know if she should be amused or offended that the young kids delivering her furniture kept calling her ma’am. Considering the way that neither one of them could hold her gaze for more than two seconds without turning red, she decided to stick with amused. “No, everything’s fine.”

“Then this spot’s okay for the bookshelf?”

At her nod, the two guys pushed the large piece of furniture securely against the wall and left to unload something else from the truck.

Emily had always thought of buying a house as a time-consuming endeavor, but within days of the seller accepting her offer, Anna had come by with a congratulatory bouquet and a house key. She’d declared the quick closing a sign that Emily was simply meant for the town house.

Feeling somewhat dumbfounded that she’d
really
bought a house, Emily had given a quick laugh and mused, “Now what?”

Unaware that the question was rhetorical, Anna had breezily replied, “Move in! Make it yours.”

And in between planning the fund-raiser and spending copious amounts of time thinking about
not
thinking about Javy, Emily had done just that with the help of movers and deliverymen.

Charlene had suggested that Emily place an order through the custom designer who’d handcrafted their furniture. She’d been more than slightly appalled when Emily shopped the stores around the mall, buying furniture available for delivery in only a few days.

“I don’t understand the reason for all these rushed decisions,” her mother had protested.

“I’m excited to move into my own place. And I don’t see any reason to wait.”

“Is that the real reason? Or are you simply afraid that if you
stop to think about what you’re doing, you’ll change your mind?” her mother had asked.

Standing alone in the middle of her semi-furnished great room, Emily murmured, “I’m not going to change my mind.”

“That’s good,” one of the guys grunted as he and his fellow deliveryman angled the couch through the front door. “’Cause this is really heavy.”

“Oh, sorry.” Stepping back to clear the way, she pointed out the spot in front of the entertainment center for the couch. She’d bought entire sets for the great room, as well as the bedrooms, so the small town house was already coming together. She had even purchased a few paintings to decorate the otherwise blank walls.

Her clothes were still boxed up in the spare bedroom, and she had yet to find the perfect places to arrange her personal touches, like her family pictures, the Swarovski crystal figurines she collected and the teacups she’d inherited from her grandmother.

She also needed to run to the store to stock up on everyday necessities for the pantry and laundry-room cupboards, but that wouldn’t take long. As to when she would feel like she truly belonged in the town house, Emily couldn’t begin to come up with a timeline.

“Is there anything else we can help with?” one of the delivery guys asked.

Emily hesitated. They had done all she’d asked and more, but once they left, she’d be alone in her own house for the first time.

But that’s why you moved out
, she reminded herself.
To be on your own
.

Taking a breath, she offered the young men a smile as she walked to the door. “Thank you for all your help. You’ve done a great job. I appreciate all the hard work.”

The kids’ eyes lit up as she handed them a substantial tip.
Tucking the money into their back pockets as they stepped outside, one of them said, “Hey, thanks. If you need anything else, give us a call.”

Whatever Emily might have said froze in her throat, despite the burst of desert-dry heat outside. Dressed in blue jeans and a black T-shirt, his dark gaze hidden by a pair of sunglasses, Javy was walking up the driveway. The second she saw him again, Emily knew any time she’d spent in the past few days thinking she might push the man from her mind had clearly been wasted.

He didn’t simply fill her thoughts; he filled her senses. She drank in the sight of him—his thick hair, combed back from the sculpted plane of his face, his broad shoulders, the long-legged stride carrying him nearer. Nothing escaped her notice, not the frown the sunglasses couldn’t hide or the nicks and cuts on his hands—proof of the hard work he’d been putting in at the restaurant.

“Hey.” His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine as he drew close enough for her to catch the clean scent of soap, aftershave and a hint of fabric softener, which had her longing to bury her face against the soft cotton stretching across his broad chest….

“Thanks again,” the delivery guy said as he and his coworker skirted around Javy on their way to the truck.

For a moment, the loud roar and the diesel smell of the engine rumbled through the air. The sound gradually faded away, leaving behind a silence filled with energy every bit as restrained.

“Anna told me you’ve already moved in,” Javy said finally, his tone almost accusing.

“I had some of my things brought over and had the furniture delivered.”

“You could have called me,” he said.

“You were busy,” Emily countered, feeling a flicker of anger.

Had he expected her to put her plans on hold just so she could wait for the off chance he might be free? Or did he, like her parents, think she was making a mistake by rushing into this decision?

Frustration written in his movements, Javy stripped off the sunglasses. Emily thought she was prepared, but the sight of his dark-lashed espresso eyes stole her breath all over again.

“I’m sorry. I was—” Javy began but stopped short.

His frown faded as he reached out and brushed a wayward curl back from her cheek, reminding Emily that her hair was gathered in a ponytail, her face was scrubbed free of makeup, and she was wearing a tank top and a pair of stretch pants. It was not how she wanted to look the first time she saw him after their failed date.

“I’m here now. And I’d like to see what you’ve done with the place,” he added.

Emily wanted to say no. The house wasn’t ready for guests, and she wasn’t ready for Javy. Even though she hadn’t seen him in days, she needed more time to get accustomed to the idea that Javy had been in love once, engaged to a woman who broke his heart and that he might love her still.

She figured it might take years to reconcile a heartbroken Javy with the carefree flirt she’d come to know, but she didn’t have years. If the last few days were anything to go by, Javy was already inching toward the end, letting her down easy before he dropped her altogether. If she were smart,
she’d
make the break and protect herself.

But he was here now. Right in front of her, close enough to touch, and she couldn’t let him go.

“Come in,” she whispered, opening the door to her home, very much aware of how close she was to letting him into her heart.

He folded up his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his T-shirt before crossing the threshold. Emily closed the door, feeling oddly nervous as he scanned the great room and kitchen beyond. After all her years surrounded by her parents’ formal furniture, Emily had purposely chosen more casual, comfortable pieces with an almost country feel, thanks to the light oak wood and floral and gingham patterns.

“Emily,” he said finally, “the place looks great. You did an amazing job.”

Dropping onto the couch, she hugged a green-and-white-checked pillow to her chest. “I went shopping. The delivery guys did the rest.”

“Don’t.”

She let her gaze rise to meet his, surprised by the almost rough command behind the one word. He lowered his lean body onto the couch, beside her, with enough deliberation for Emily to feel like prey stalked by a dangerous, gorgeous animal.

Angling toward her, he pulled away the pillow, which would have made a poor shield had she been looking for some kind of defense. But Emily didn’t think there was any protection against the weakness that attacked from the inside out. Her bones seemed to melt from the heat of his muscled thigh pressed alongside hers.

“Don’t minimize what you’ve done here. The place looks great. It looks…” His gaze swept the room, as if he were searching for the perfect word amid the entertainment center, coffee table or matching peach-and-green floral wingback chairs flanking the window. Finally, his dark gaze came back to her. “It looks like you.”

Grasping at his words as a reprieve from the masculine temptation sharing her couch cushion, Emily looked around the great room. She thought of her place as comfortable, casual, and she couldn’t think of a higher compliment. “Thank
you. I love it already,” she said, ignoring the uncertainty that had plagued her only moments before.

A completely different flurry of nerves took flight when she noticed that Javy’s focus had dropped to her mouth. As if he’d flipped a switch in her mind, memories of his kiss replayed with HD clarity.

If this was his way of breaking up with her, she
really
couldn’t read men at all.

“Javy—”

“We finished the restaurant this morning,” he interrupted, as if sensing she’d been on the verge of asking a “where is this going” type question. “All we have to do tomorrow is touch up some of the paint, do a final cleanup and move the tables and chairs back in.”

“That’s great. You finished with a whole day to spare.”

“Yeah, and well, with the extra night before the reopening, we’re having a get-together tomorrow. Just friends and family for chips and salsa and the best margaritas you’ve ever tasted. I’d like you to be there with me.”

Faint hesitation colored the edges of his normally confident smile, and the sight of that unexpected vulnerability went to her head—and her heart—in a way tequila never could.

He still wanted to see her. Had she overreacted to his absence the last few days? Was being busy a legitimate reason and not a lame excuse? With hope spinning through her system like a good buzz, she spoke without thinking. “I’d love to. I can’t wait to see the restaurant now that it’s complete.” When she realized a second later what day tomorrow was, disappointment crashed down on her. “But I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

Emily shook her head. “I totally forgot. I’m helping my mother with a dinner party tomorrow night. I promised I’d be there. My father is offering a partnership to one of his employ
ees. The dinner is sort of a welcome to the family.” When Javy’s eyebrows lowered, Emily hurried to explain. “The family business, I mean. Not…anything else.”

Her explanation doing little to dispel his scowl, he demanded, “Tell me something, Emily. Did your father plan to offer Todd that same position?”

Seeing where Javy was going—and perhaps even where her
mother
was going with the dinner party—Emily reluctantly confessed, “Yes, he did. But obviously his plans changed.”

“Have they?”

“Yes.” She shot to her feet, wishing he hadn’t taken the pillow from her, so she could hit him with it. “I’m not going to suddenly decide Dan Rogers is perfect for me just because my parents like him. Although I’m not sure it’s any of your business who I date. I mean, this is all just for fun, right? Nothing serious, nothing lasting. Why would you even care if my parents did roll me out like some kind of welcome mat?”

“I would care,” Javy ground out. His eyes had darkened to onyx with each word she spoke. He slowly pushed himself up from the couch, energy and anger barely restrained in each deliberate move. If she had felt stalked before, now she was staring at the predator seconds before he pounced.