by Amanda Ashby
She took a deep breath. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
“Does that mean more groveling? Because I’m enjoying it.”
“Actually, it’s about something else.”
“I see.” He looked at her with interest, and a tingle raced through her. She licked her lips.
“It’s about Fiji. The reason I didn’t go with you wasn’t because I had cold feet or was homesick. It was because of Ivy. That was the day she found out about the cancer diagnosis. She didn’t want me to change my plans, but I insisted.” Emmy increased her grip on the steering wheel and kept her eyes firmly on the road, but she heard him suck in his breath.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t understand? That I’d think traveling is more important than family?”
“No. I swear it was nothing to do with you. It was me. I should’ve called, but I just couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t make it real. Plus, we hardly knew each other, and the idea of having to discuss it with anyone…well, I just couldn’t. But, I should never have sent you a text message. I freaked out. I really am sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shook his head and leaned over to touch her arm. It was the lightest of touches, but it was like being branded. She had to bite back an involuntary gasp. “I just wish there was something I could’ve done.”
“There wasn’t.” A lump formed in Emmy’s throat, and crying was a serious possibility. It didn’t help that she could still feel his fingers burning into her skin. “The worst of it was that it happened when I was away from home. My parents were killed when they were in India. Then just when I considered leaving the farm, Ivy got sick. It probably sounds dumb to you, but it really freaked me out.”
“What’s dumb about loving your family and wanting to put them first?” It was hard to see his face, but his tone almost sounded jealous. Emmy’s heart quickened, and she was just about to ask him what had hurt him when Beer and Cupcakes came into sight. She blinked. She’d been so absorbed in their conversation she’d hardly noticed she’d turned on to the main street of Sunshine. Probably best not to admit that in a court of law.
Christopher seemed to be equally surprised, and as she parked and opened the door of the pickup, the strange bubble that had covered them disappeared. Emmy’s stomach clenched as she wrangled her heels back on and walked to the back of the pickup. She needed to focus on her work.
And first thing on the agenda: stop thinking about kissing him.
The bridal party wasn’t due for another hour, but she wanted plenty of time to get everything set up. She reached for the cardboard box full of vintage fascinators, kid gloves and heavy pearl necklaces. For the bachelors she had old-fashioned ties, suspenders and fake moustaches. But before she could lift the box, though, Christopher leaned over and scooped it up.
“So, what’s the deal with tonight? I had tried to organize the party myself, but Lewis told me it was taken care. Anything I need to know?” he asked in a casual voice. Emmy couldn’t tell if he’d changed the subject on purpose, but she was grateful. She sucked in a breath and gave him a small smile.
“There’s only one thing you need to worry about. If a stripper goes within ten miles of the bar, then Melinda absolutely will have a heart attack. I’ve put the word out to everyone, but unfortunately there’s no way I could call every strip-o-gram company in Connecticut.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be on stripper duty all night,” Christopher said as they reached the door. Then he winced. “Okay, that sounded different in my head. But what I mean is I’ve got your back. No strippers, no shaved eyebrows, and if I can help it, I’ll make sure no one ends up seeing double.”
Emmy looked up at him and found him gazing back at her, his eyes soft like the morning dew. Her breath quickened as she stepped toward him, but before she could formulate a reply, Melinda stormed out of the tearoom, her face twisted with worry.
“Oh my God, Emmy. Thank goodness you’re here. We have an emergency on our hands.”
“What?” Emmy blinked and hoped her cheeks weren’t burning bright. “Didn’t you get my message that the doves are all confirmed?”
“Yes, yes.” Melinda gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “But this is much more important. It’s about the hats. I can’t possibly wear one tonight because it will flatten my hair, so I think we should go back to tiaras.”
“Remember we decided traditional tiaras would be too heavy,” Emmy said in a soothing voice. “Besides, I’ve got a special bride-to-be fascinator for you. It once belonged to my grandmother, and it pins into your hair.”
“I’ve heard all the best vintage brides are wearing them this year,” Christopher added with a small smile.
“Oh.” Some of the stress seemed to leave Melinda’s face as they led her back inside Beer and Cupcakes. As they went, Emmy gave Christopher a grateful smile. Turned out they didn’t make such a bad team after all.
Chapter Six
Christopher leaned against the wall and watched Emmy walk across the dance floor, her hips swaying as she went. Her dress was made out of some kind of heavy black fabric, and while it demurely covered her chest and arms, it was short, only just grazing her thighs and leaving her long, coltish legs exposed. Christopher’s throat tightened. Damn. It was without doubt the sexist dress he’d ever seen.
The kind of dress that could make a guy do just about anything. Which might explain why he’d spent the last three hours running point at the seventies-style bar, ensuring none of the bachelors did more than wear their vintage ties, drink a few too many beers, and lose some money on the old-fashioned arcade machines.
Good, wholesome fun without a stripper in sight.
Thankfully he seemed to have succeeded, and an hour ago they’d joined the women in the cobbled courtyard that separated the bar and the bakery. The jazz band had lived up to their quirky description and played an up-tempo version of an Adele song that had everyone swaying and smiling.
He toyed with his untouched beer as Emmy stopped to speak to the mother-of-the bride. From above them, fairy lights gently illuminated her skin. The only sign of how much she still had to do before tomorrow’s kickoff was in the way she held her shoulders just a little bit too high.
Unconsciously his fingers clenched, itching to smooth the tension from her bunched muscles. To press down on the soft skin, teasing away the stress and strain trapped under her flesh. He smiled, but it was quickly replaced as he remembered he was the reason Emmy’s shoulders were so tight. His cheeks heated. She might have tarred and feathered him, he wasn’t entirely innocent.
After all, if he hadn’t happened to see the old dove breeder, then there was every chance he would’ve met up with Nancy, and who knows how Melinda, with her crazy-bride hormones, might’ve reacted. He frowned. Emmy had apologized to him, but he needed to apologize to her. He also wanted to dance with her.
Okay, that’s a lie. I just want to see the way her body moves beneath that dress. Then he grinned as he took a swig of beer. Who said apologizing and dancing had to be mutually exclusive?
Especially given the fact she hadn’t been too scared to go to Fiji with him.
She wasn’t like his father. The only thing Emmy Watson had been scared of was losing her beloved great aunt.
His blood hummed in his veins. The thing that had stopped her from being perfect for him wasn’t a thing at all. Which meant the sooner he apologized to her, the faster they could get back to where they’d been two years ago.
Naked and in bed.
“Hey, Kit, buddy. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Lewis appeared next to him. His fake moustache was crooked and his eyes were slightly gazed as he gave Christopher a friendly pat on the shoulder. “So, what’s up?”
“Not much,” Christopher said, noticing Lewis was nervously shifting his weight from one leg to another. That wasn’t a good sign. “Is everything okay? Please tell me one of the other guys didn’t order a stripper? Because so help me—”
“D
efinitely no stripper.” Lewis gave an adamant shake of his head before he let out a strangled sigh and held up a piece of paper he was clenching. “Though, now you mention it, there is one small problem.”
“Oh, man. Is it about Pandora or Nancy? Because I swear I didn’t mean to brush them off. It’s just… Well, It’s complicated,” Christopher said, realizing that Emmy was right. Trying to find a fake girlfriend in the middle of a wedding was a bad idea. Actually the worst. And while Lewis had vaguely mentioned introducing him to Jessica, bridesmaid number three, Christopher wasn’t sure he was up for it.
On account of her not being Emmy.
Turned out that was a problem.
“No, it’s something else,” Lewis said. He held up a piece of paper. “I was meant to give this to you days ago and I guess I forgot.”
“Okay,” Christopher said in an uncertain voice as he flattened out the crumpled paper his friend had just handed him. “What is it?”
Lewis took a deep breath. “Melinda had a few suggestions on what to include in the wedding speech. Or, more to the point, what not to include.”
“Melinda’s giving me tips on the speech? She does know I’m a journalist, right? That I normally get paid to string words together,” Christopher said, not sure whether to be amused or offended as he glanced up to see Melinda studying them intently from the far side of the courtyard. It explained why Lewis was so nervous. They were both on her radar.
“I know.” Lewis’s shoulders drooped. “It’s just this whole wedding is making her…quite particular. Though, the fact you are such a great writer means it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Of course it’s not…” Christopher trailed off as his eyes were drawn down the list in question. “Cactus? She doesn’t want me to mention cactus?”
“Too prickly,” Lewis explained.
“And sandals?” Christopher’s lips twitched as he finished scanning the numerous bullet points on the list. “Let me guess, too sandally?”
“No, she just has a thing about open-toed footwear on men. She finds hairy toes displeasing,” Lewis said before lowering his voice and pulling off his fake moustache. “I know it sounds silly, but if you could do this for her—for us—I’d really appreciate it.”
Actually, it didn’t sound silly, it sounded completely ridiculous, but before he could reply he caught Lewis glancing over to Melinda, his face joyous. And while Christopher might not get the cactus or the sandals, he did get that his friend was in love, and that this was the wedding he wanted.
“No problem.” He slipped the list into his pocket. “Lewis, I can safely promise you and Melinda nothing on this list will be in my speech.”
“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.” The puckered frown on Lewis’s face lifted as he drifted through the crowd to where Melinda was waiting for him. Christopher gave himself a mental shake to shift the image of what their life would be like in ten year’s time and scanned the courtyard looking for Emmy so he could make his apology.
She was at one of the long wooden tables, scribbling away in a small notebook, exquisitely unaware of how much of her long legs were on display in the black dress. He grinned as he wove past the dancing couples to her table.
She looked up, her dark eyes filling with concern. “Everything okay?”
“Should I be flattered or insulted that every time you see me, you think there’s going to be a problem?” he asked, and then enjoyed the way the color flooded her cheeks.
“Sorry. I just thought you’d be—”
“Off hell-raising and flirting with bridesmaids?”
“Actually, I was going to say relaxing,” she said as she shut her notebook and slipped it back into her large purse, which was filled with everything from a sewing kit to an emergency packet of tights. When it came to planning a wedding, she really didn’t leave anything to chance.
Does that mean that she had condoms in there, too? The thought left him dizzy. “You’ve put in a good shift tonight.”
“Who says talking to you isn’t relaxing?” he countered and was rewarded with a second adorable blush. Since when had blushing been such a turn-on?
“I said it. Because nothing about organizing a wedding is relaxing.” Emmy sighed and shook her arms, as if trying to loosen up. Once again the urge to press his fingers into her bunched muscles and ease away the strain was overwhelming. He thrust his hands into his coat pockets and tried to ignore the way his skin prickled with desire at the thought of touching her.
“So I’m discovering. I’ve just been chatting to Lewis about my speech.”
“Let me guess. Melinda asked you not to mention sandals.”
“You knew she had a thing about sandals?” Christopher quirked an eyebrow.
“It might’ve come up on more than one occasion.” Emmy pushed back a strand of dark hair that had escaped her neat chignon. He swallowed hard as he watched it caress her long, pale neck. Lucky hair. “So I take it you agreed?”
“Of course. It’s their marriage, not mine.”
“I’m sure they appreciate it, and so do I.”
“Like I said—it was never my intention to cause trouble.” Christopher dragged his gaze away from her neck and forced himself to remember why he’d wanted to talk to her. “I’m sorry I caused you so much extra work.”
“Oh.” Her lips parted slightly, giving him a delicious view of her pearly teeth. A shockwave of sensations travelled down his chest. “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.”
“You’re welcome.” His voice sounded husky as the need to be closer to her pounded in his veins. He licked his lips and wondered if Emmy was feeling the heat, too. “So, I was thinking—”
“We should keep an eye on Lawrence? I agree. He’s been flirting with Chloe behind the bar for the last ten minutes, and I’m worried he might try something,” Emmy finished off with a nod.
So, it’s just me then.
But he wasn’t giving up without a fight.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to dance.”
“Y-you want to dance?” she stammered as the saxophone played a sultry note that seemed to raise the temperature by about two hundred degrees.
“Yes. It’s the strange custom that cultures all over the world take part in.” He tried to keep his voice light to mask the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
“I know what dancing is. It’s just when we dance, bad things tend to happen.” Emmy pressed her lips together, obviously not eager to relive the memories from two years ago. Which was unfortunate, because he couldn’t think of anything else. “Plus, I don’t think Melinda would like it.”
“I’ve just given my blood oath I won’t mention cactus or sandals. I think she’ll forgive us.”
“What about the bridesmaids?”
“You have me on lockdown, remember. Besides, I decided you were right. I don’t want to do anything to ruin the big day.”
“What’s the real reason?”
None of them are you.
“I told you. This is about Lewis and Melinda. And if you won’t dance with me, that only leaves Lewis’s great aunt Hilda, and I’m pretty sure she has two left feet.”
“Christopher.”
“Emmy,” he countered, trying not to be distracted by the delectable sight of her chest rising and falling. “One dance. That’s all I’m asking. For old time’s sake.”
Emmy’s lips twitched, and Christopher could almost see the two sides of her battling before the carefree smile he recognized from their time together in New York appeared. It changed the shape of her face and brought everything about their first meeting slamming into his mind. She stood up, so close that his skin prickled with desire.
“Fine. One dance.”
“Great.” He led her to the small wooden dance floor to the left of where the jazz band was playing. Lewis and Miranda were in the middle, and fanned out all around them were the rest of the bridal party, but all Christopher could see was Emmy.
The music pulsated around them, and even
the pale yellow moon above swayed to the beat. He sucked in a breath and pulled her toward him. It was a mistake, and his lungs were filled with the smell of her freshly washed hair and the evening clematis climbing up the crumbling brickwork of the courtyard walls. His arms tightened around her waist, and her bunched, tense muscles seemed to relax as she melted into him. The rest of the world disappeared, and all he was conscious of was her pounding heart as it pressed against his.
This was the woman he’d met two years ago.
And it seems I’m just as helpless around her as I ever was. Which is either a good thing, or a very, very bad one. The verdict’s still out.
As if reading his mind, she turned her face up to him, a soft, suggestive smile tugging at her full mouth. Desire flared through him, and if they were anywhere else he would’ve kissed her without a second’s hesitation. He forced himself to return her smile and simply enjoy the way her body molded his.
It wasn’t until the lead singer announced the name of the next song Christopher even realized the music had stopped. Emmy was the first to recover, and she stepped away, her face flushed and her eyes not quite meeting his.
“Um.” She licked her lips. “I’m not sure that was such a good idea.”
“I hate to disagree with you, but I think it was an excellent idea. And one that should definitely be repeated. You can’t deny that there’s still something between us.” Christopher tried to pull her closer as the next song started, but she folded her arms firmly in front of her. Ironically, it highlighted the soft curves of her body.
At this rate I’m going to need a fire engine to cool me down.
“I’m serious,” she insisted before letting out a soft sigh. “You’re right. There is still something between us, but there’s nowhere it can go. I want to save the farm, and you want to go visit every strange nook and cranny in the universe. Don’t you see? Nothing’s changed.”
“My hair’s longer,” Christopher said, but it was obvious by the way Emmy had pushed her lips into two compact lines, she wasn’t in the joking mood. “I know you like to be organized, and I get that, but aren’t you over thinking this? I mean, shouldn’t we be having the fun first and then move on to the serious conversations about why it would never work?”