The Wedding She Always Wanted

by Stacy Connelly

  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.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thanks 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 intrigued 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 addressing 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 droppe
d 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 employees. 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.”