The Wedding She Always Wanted

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The Wedding She Always Wanted Page 4

by Stacy Connelly


  “Oh, Javy, thank you!” The threat of tears choked her voice as she tried to explain. “I was so afraid I was going to have to go back to the ballroom, and I just didn’t know how I could face all those people again—”

  “You could do it,” he murmured, his voice full of confidence. “You already faced them once, and the second time will only be easier. But it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

  “Thanks to you.” Emily pulled back to look up at him, a little embarrassed at how she’d thrown herself into his arms, but reluctant to leave all the same. Like the moment on the dance floor, where she forgot everything but the excitement, the anticipation, the seduction of being in his arms, she couldn’t remember all the reasons why she shouldn’t stay right where she was. “I guess a hero’s work is never done. That’s the second time you’ve come to the rescue.”

  “I’m returning your purse,” he said wryly. “Seems more like a job for a Boy Scout than a superhero.”

  Emily’s lips twitched until she could no longer hold back, and she wondered at his ability to make her laugh when she least felt like it. But Javy’s own smile faded, his expression intensifying.

  “There it is,” he murmured.

  “There…” She cleared her throat. “There what is?”

  “A real laugh. I thought earlier you would be impossible to resist if you laughed.”

  “You did?”

  “I did.” Reaching up, he traced what was left of her smile with the pad of his thumb. “And you are.”

  Irresistible. The word certainly applied to Javy. What else could explain why Emily didn’t protest as he slid his hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her closer? He moved purposefully—giving her time to notice the perfect shape of his mouth, time to feel the brush of his breath against her lips, time to escape…

  But the slow, almost-relentless approach only built a pulse-pounding impatience, and instead of ducking away from his touch, Emily leaned into the kiss. The first barely there brush of his lips, and then the undeniable claim of his mouth over hers. She could taste a hint of the beer he’d had to drink earlier, and after a night filled with champagne toasts, it seemed so right. His kiss had an intoxication all its own, and the stars overhead seemed to spin wildly out of control.

  Or maybe she was spinning out of control as Javy’s hands slid down to her hips, each finger a brand against her flesh, even through the pale pink silk. She tightened her arms until her breasts pressed against the solid wall of his chest, but close wasn’t close enough. Her shoulder blades bumped against the carved bungalow door, a sudden reminder that wove through her thoughts.

  She’d hardly paid any attention to her room earlier—it was nice enough, but after all, it wasn’t the honeymoon suite. Now, though, she could picture the room clearly with its dark wicker furniture, escape-to-the-tropics decor and large, empty bed.

  The crazy thought of pulling the key from the purse Javy had returned and inviting him inside was so out of character, she should have been shocked. But all she felt was tempted by the wild impulse…

  A faint, unfamiliar melody played through Emily’s mind, too close to come from the ballroom, too far away to truly register. Javy broke the kiss, his breathing as uneven as hers. With the moon and light from the ballroom behind him, she couldn’t see his expression, only the dark glitter of his eyes. He was so much more experienced than she at this kind of thing—then again, who wasn’t?—did she dare hope he’d been as affected by their kiss?

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice a husky murmur as the sound repeated and Emily recognized the ring of a cell phone. “I don’t know who would be calling me now.”

  Emily knew she should have been grateful for the interruption, but her still-pounding heart and tingling lips stomped out any other feeling beyond regret.

  Fishing the phone out of his pocket, Javy frowned at the number displayed on the screen before answering with a rough “Yeah?” Emily could tell something was wrong even before he asked, “How bad is it?”

  Agitation filled his steps as he started pacing while he listened to the person on the other end of the line. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there. Do me a favor and don’t call Maria until I have a chance to take a look.”

  He snapped the phone closed and met Emily’s gaze. “I have to go. A pipe burst at our restaurant. From what the night manager, Tommy, says, the place is a mess.”

  “Of course. I hope it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  Despite the barely restrained tension in the line of his jaw and the set of his shoulders, Javy hesitated, as if searching for something to say. A little surprised he didn’t have a sexy quip ready even for a moment like this, Emily shook her head. It wasn’t like she wanted to discuss their kiss or her unexpected desire to take things further than a kiss. She couldn’t begin to explain it to herself.

  “Go,” she said softly.

  “Emily…” His frustration was verbalized in a muttered curse—in Spanish—before he turned to walk away. He spun back around just as quickly. Catching her around the waist, he pulled her into his arms. He stole her breath and a quick, hard kiss before letting her go and backing away a second time.

  “I’ll call you,” he promised.

  Hugging her arms around the butterflies dancing in her stomach, Emily watched him disappear into the night. Maybe she was crazy, and maybe she was totally on the rebound after Todd’s betrayal, but she suddenly wasn’t sure she cared as long as Javy was the man to catch her.

  Chapter Three

  Javy hoped the restaurant wasn’t as bad as he remembered. That after spending half the night wrestling with a Shop-Vac, feeling like he was trying to drain an ocean, he’d been too tired to clinically assess the damage. Sheer exhaustion must have made everything appear so much worse than it really was.

  He was wrong.

  The bathroom in which the pipe had broken and the area beyond showed the most damage. The force of the water had broken the concrete slab, cracking the Saltillo tile and flooding the place. He could see where the drywall had wicked water up a foot from the baseboards, darkening the paint like poorly done mountainscapes. The bathroom vanities were warped and waterlogged. Even some of the tables and chairs, with their elegant carving and colorful Mexican tile accents, showed signs of damage, a loss that hurt worst of all.

  The harsh reality of day made the hours before seem even more like a dream. Last night he’d held a beautiful woman in his arms. Then the clock had struck midnight and poof! He’d been up to his ankles in flood damage.

  After all the hard work and worry about the restaurant, he should have collapsed into bed, grateful for the few hours of shut-eye. But memories of Emily’s kiss had tortured him. He’d wanted to kiss her from the moment he spotted her at Kelsey and Connor’s engagement party. He’d anticipated the challenge of cracking her cool veneer and drawing out the woman beneath. But he hadn’t expected to experience the instant rush of heat and desire as Emily caught fire in his arms or to find himself in danger of getting burned.

  Even when he’d finally drifted off to sleep, Emily had filled his thoughts. In his dreams, she’d stood right in front of him, but when he’d reached out, his arms had gone right through, and she’d disappeared.

  Javy wasn’t much for dream interpretation, but he did know he’d never had a woman he’d just met creep her way into his subconscious. Granted, Emily was stunning, but he’d dated his share of beauties—maybe even more than his share. Women who enjoyed the chase as much as he did and played by the same rules—all fun and games and no one got hurt.

  He’d learned from his mistakes—and the one time he’d gotten in over his head and nearly drowned. But something about Emily was already pulling him deeper. He’d meant it when he’d called her brave. He couldn’t think of another woman who would have painted on such a lovely smile and survived that wedding as a guest when she’d planned all along to be the bride. And the way she’d faced the cruel gossip with such class and grace…

  He admired her, Javy
realized suddenly, a word he hadn’t figured he would associate with Emily Wilson. He’d assumed she was spoiled and selfish and would respond to her canceled wedding with a tantrum and a trip to Cannes or to some other rich-girl playground. She’d impressed him with a quiet composure and courage that threatened to get beneath his skin, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

  So don’t call her. It wasn’t like he didn’t have enough on his plate right now with the restaurant to repair. But he had the uneasy feeling that out of sight would not mean out of mind where Emily Wilson was concerned.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  Forcing his thoughts back to the restaurant, Javy turned to Tommy, the manager who’d discovered the burst pipe. He’d returned to Delgado’s after realizing he’d lost his wallet sometime during his shift. Javy hated to think of the damage several more hours would have caused if he hadn’t.

  Yeah, it was bad, all right. Bad enough to bring back memories from ten years ago, when he lost his father, his fiancée and nearly lost the restaurant, as well. He could still remember the feelings of helplessness that had nearly overwhelmed him as everything he knew and loved threatened to disappear.

  He’d been little more than a kid, so Javy supposed he should cut himself some slack, but he’d never forgiven himself for the fire that occurred on his watch.

  At least now, the business and their finances were on firmer ground. He wouldn’t need Connor to bail him out, and this time Javy wasn’t the one at fault.

  Focusing on the work to be done, he said, “We’ll fix it. We’ll have to shut down for a few days, but after that the restaurant will be up and running again.”

  He glanced over at the younger man, hoping to see some enthusiasm in the kid’s expression. Instead, he was treated to a look of slack-jawed distraction. “Hey, kid, I’m giving one hell of pep talk here. Least you could do is pretend to listen.”

  “Yeah, um…what?” A slow flush climbed the younger man’s face, and Javy figured out why as soon as he heard the female voice behind him.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Javy waited a second before he turned to face Emily Wilson. He knew damn well he’d look as besotted as Tommy if he didn’t. The brief respite did little to prepare him. Kind of like no amount of time with your eyes closed could ever prepare you to look straight at the sun, Javy didn’t think he could ever get used to Emily’s breathtaking beauty.

  The fancy gown, upswept hair and dramatic makeup from the night before were gone, replaced by a powder-blue camisole top, white capri pants and beaded sandals. A headband pushed back her golden blond hair, and only a hint of makeup kissed her face.

  She probably thought she looked casual, but to Javy, she still looked classier than any woman he’d ever met. The low thrum of desire kicked up again, vibrating along every nerve in his body.

  “I wanted to stop by and see if everything’s okay. Obviously it’s not,” she said as she looked around the restaurant.

  “It’s going be. I was just telling Tommy, we’ll be up and running in no time.”

  “Of course,” she agreed faintly, a worried frown pulling her eyebrows at his pat response.

  The compassion in her gaze caught him off guard, tugging at something in his chest and drawing out everything he wanted to deny, until a part of him longed to confess the feelings he’d buried since the moment he’d stepped inside the restaurant. That the damage left him heartsick; that he didn’t know how long it would take before the place was up and running again; and that he worried that even then, the inevitable changes couldn’t possibly live up to the way the restaurant had been before.

  Emily lifted a hand to push her hair back from one shoulder, and the diamond bracelet she wore caught enough light to send prisms dancing across the restaurant. For a crazy second, Javy thought of the fake diamond engagement ring he’d bought for Stephanie.

  Simulated, the salesgirl had called it. It had been all he could afford at eighteen, and as a symbol of his foolish teenage love, the diamond had been 100 percent genuine. But to Stephanie, the ring had been a cheap knockoff, and his best had been nothing but second rate.

  Shoving aside memories—as well as any asinine thoughts of spilling his guts—he asked his young night manager, “Do me a favor, will you, Tommy? Move the damaged tables and chairs into the back, okay?”

  Puzzled, the younger man asked, “Um, where do you want me to put them?”

  “Just try to find some place out of the way.”

  As the younger man grabbed a carved chair in each hand, Javy turned back to Emily. He still wasn’t sure why she’d come to the restaurant, but this definitely wasn’t the way he wanted her to see it.

  He was proud of his parents’ place, of the hard work and dedication that had made Delgado’s into a neighborhood landmark. He would have liked to show it to her at its best—on a Friday night, with the music blaring and every table filled by happy, hungry customers.

  Not now, not like this, with the damp smell of stagnant water already replacing the restaurant’s once mouthwatering aromas of peppers and spices, and with unwanted emotions and memories creeping past his defenses.

  “What are you doing here, Emily?”

  At his question, soft color slowly bloomed in her cheeks—like the petals of a rose unfolding. The effect was so beautiful and so stunning, he would have sworn she did it on purpose if he hadn’t been pretty sure such a thing was impossible.

  “I shouldn’t have come. It was a mistake. I was thinking that I could help, but it’s not like I can do—” she waved her free hand to encompass the mess around them “—anything.”

  Even without Emily’s pronouncement, Javy would have bet the restaurant that major remodeling work was not her forte. That her experience was with hair dryers, not handsaws, and that the only nails she was familiar with were the ones painted a delicate pink on the tips of her fingers and toes.

  But he also knew from listening to Connor moon over his girlfriend years ago that Emily could sing and dance. She’d been in dozens of beauty pageants and plays while growing up. That she was a skilled equestrian and had been an honor student. He could only imagine she’d honed those talents at college and in the years since.

  Yet, for reasons he couldn’t begin to imagine, she was ready to dismiss all that with the flick of a wrist to help him. The curiosity urging him to discover all the reasons why told Javy his mistake would be in asking her to stay.

  In the end, he didn’t have a chance to say anything. The front door opened, letting in a blast of heat and sunlight and a prayer in Spanish as his mother stepped into the restaurant. At work, she normally wore the same style dress as the rest of the female staff—a colorful blouse and embroidered skirt. It was strange to see her there dressed in a plain olive T-shirt and khaki pants. Her haste to leave the house showed in her hair, which she had left loose to fall to her waist. It had to be his imagination that overnight more gray seemed to shoot through the dark strands.

  “Dios,” Maria breathed, shock and dismay filling her expression.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks, Mama,” Javy said immediately, not wanting to consider her reaction when she saw the worst of it.

  “It’s bad, Javier. Like the fire…”

  Javy flinched at the reminder of his failure and the disaster that had almost destroyed them. “It isn’t,” he insisted. “It’s not that bad. I can fix it…” His voice trailed off as for the second time, he lost his audience in the middle of his inspirational speech.

  Maria stared at Emily, but unlike Tommy’s wide-eyed infatuation, disapproval was written clearly on his mother’s face. “Solo tú, Javier,” she murmured. “Only you.”

  Realizing Maria was speaking Spanish to exclude Emily, he glanced at her, an apology in his eyes, and drew his mother aside. “Only me what, Mama?” he asked in English.

  “Only you would bring a girl to the restaurant now. Bad enough you have a different girl in here every other week, but today? It is a disaster
, and you bring a date.”

  His dating, or more specifically, his refusal to settle down, had long been a point of contention between them, one he refused to get into now. “We aren’t on a date,” Javy argued, but Maria would hear none of it.

  “Do you think I do not recognize this girl? The one Connor was seeing all those years ago. The silly girl who did not think he was good enough for someone like her—”

  “You’re right.” Emily stepped closer, covering the distance Javy had tried to put between them, and joined a conversation that she was smart enough to realize was about her. “I was a silly girl back then.” Meeting Javy’s gaze, she added in Spanish, “Pero ahora mujer.”

  Javy felt his jaw drop, and he ducked his head rather than let his mother see the smile he couldn’t hold back. Muttering beneath her breath, Maria stalked off to the kitchen. As he met Emily’s gaze, he let out a low laugh.

  She winced. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t apologize.” As much as he loved his mother, she was a force to be reckoned with, and few people tried. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had silenced her. He never would have guessed Emily Wilson would be up for the job.

  Once more she was showing him she was nothing like the spoiled rich girl he’d figured her for. She had spirit—buried deep, maybe, but still burning, despite what life had thrown at her. She’d shown it at the reception when she’d stood up to the gossips talking behind her back and just now with his mother.

  But I am a woman now.

  His mother had taught him Spanish straight from the cradle, so he certainly hadn’t needed to think about translating the sentence Emily had spoken in perfect, if unaccented, Spanish. But it was as if his body had interpreted the words before his brain had even had the chance. Emily was a woman, no question about it. A fact both his body and his brain fully appreciated.

 

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