The Morning After The Wedding Before (3 page)

Oh, for heaven’s sake, this was ridiculous. The restaurant was on a corner and she stopped at a red light, tapping impatient fingers on the dashboard. Seriously, if it wasn’t Stella’s night she’d turn around and go home, pull the covers over her head and not surface till Christmas—

The thump on the car’s roof nearly had her foot slipping off the brake as Jake climbed in beside her. ‘Don’t you know better than to leave your passenger door unlocked when you’re driving alone at night?’

She hated his smug look and lazy tone and looked away quickly. ‘Don’t you know better than to scare a person half to death when they’re behind the wheel?’

‘Light’s green.’

She clenched her teeth, pretending that she hadn’t noticed his woodsy aftershave wafting towards her, and crossed the intersection. ‘What are you doing here? There’s
no sense in both of us being late.’ She saw a car pulling out ahead, remembered at the last second to check her rear vision and slammed on the brakes.

‘We’ll walk in together,
Scarlett
.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ she muttered. She slid the car into the parking spot, yanked the key from the ignition, jumped out and locked her door before he’d even undone his seat belt.

Jake took his time getting out, watching her walk around the car’s bonnet to the footpath. Not looking at him. No trace of the blue-eyed poppy tonight, he thought, locking his own door. She was as prickly as a blackberry bush.

The pedestrian light turned green. She left the kerb and he fell into step beside her. ‘If we’re going to pull this wedding business off, we need to be seen to be getting along.’

She jerked to a stop outside the restaurant. ‘Fine.’

Catching her by her slender shoulders, he turned her to face him, noticed her stiffen at the skin-on-skin contact. ‘We’ll need to have a conversation about that at some point.’

‘There’s nothing to talk about.’

Light from the window spilled over her face. Wide eyes stared up at him, violet in the yellow glow. He slid his hands down her bare arms, felt her shiver beneath his palms and raised a brow. ‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing.’ She rubbed her palms together, her gaze flicking away. ‘It’s chilly. I should’ve brought a jacket. I left it on the bed …’

No, he thought, she’d been distracted. Grinning, he let her go. ‘Lighten up, Em, and give yourself permission to enjoy an evening out for once.’

W
ITH
a light hand at her back, Jake ushered Emma into the upstairs restaurant. Exotic Eastern tapestries lined the burgundy walls. On the far side, through double glass doors was a narrow balcony crowded with palms. Dreamy Eastern music played softly in the background. The tempting aromas of Indian cuisine greeted them as they made their way towards the round family table already covered in a variety of spicy smelling dishes.

‘Apologies, everyone.’ Jake nodded to the happy couple. ‘Glad to see you’ve already started.’

Emma murmured her own apologies to Stella while Ryan spooned rice into two empty bowls and passed them across the table. ‘We wondered whether you two had decided to play hooky.’

‘We thought about it—didn’t we, Em?’ Jake grinned, enjoying her appalled expression, then turned to Ryan’s father.

Gil Clifton, a stocky man with wiry red hair and always a genuine smile, rose and shook hands. ‘Good to see you again, Jake.’

‘And you. We must get around to that tennis match.’

‘Any time. Just give us a call and drop by.’

‘I’ll do that.’

Gil’s smile faded. ‘I was sorry to hear about your father. If there’s anything I can do …’

The mention of the old man left nothing but a bitter taste in Jake’s mouth and an emptiness in his soul that he’d come to terms with years ago. As far as he was concerned Gil and Julie Clifton were the only adult support he’d ever needed. ‘Got it covered, thanks, Gil.’

He kissed Julie’s cheek. ‘How’s the mother of the groom holding up?’

‘Getting excited. And, to echo Gil’s words, if you want to drop by and chat … you’re always welcome.’

If Jake was ever to be lost for words now was that time. Ryan’s family were the only people who knew about his dysfunctional childhood, and now the whole table knew about Earl. He forced a smile. ‘Thanks.’

Emma watched Julie give Jake’s arm a sympathetic squeeze. It occurred to her how little she really knew of his background beyond the fact he was Ryan’s mate.

‘So how’s business?’ Gil asked as Jake moved to the two empty chairs.

‘Busy as usual. Evening, Bernice.’

‘Jake.’ Emma’s mother acknowledged him coolly, then turned the same stony gaze on Emma. ‘Thank you for collecting my unpunctual daughter.’

Emma reminded herself she was Teflon coated where her mother’s barbs were concerned. The others resumed their conversations while she took the empty seat that Jake pulled out beside her mother and whispered, ‘Sorry, Mum.’

‘Have to admire our Emma’s work ethic, though,’ Jake remarked as he sat down beside her. ‘It’s not easy juggling two jobs.’

‘Two jobs?’ Bernice bit off the words. ‘When one’s a waste of time, I—’

‘Mum.’ Emma counted to ten while she reached for her
table napkin and smoothed it over her lap. ‘How are you enjoying the food?’

Bernice stabbed at a cherry tomato on her plate. ‘You need two
proper
jobs to be able to afford a dress like that.’

Jake smiled at Bernice on Emma’s other side. ‘And it’s worth every cent. She looks sensational, don’t you think? Wine, Em?’

‘No, thank you. Driving.’ She acknowledged Jake’s support with a quick nod and reached for the glass of water in front of her. She took several swallows to compose herself before she said, ‘I bought it at Second Hand Rose, Mum. That little recycle boutique on the esplanade.’

When her mother didn’t reply, Emma turned to Jake. ‘I didn’t know about your father,’ she murmured as other conversation flowed around the table. ‘I’m sorry.’

He didn’t look at her. ‘Don’t be.’ He tossed back his drink, set his glass on the table with a firm
thunk
and turned his attention to something Ryan was saying on his other side.

Ouch
. Emma reached for the nearest dish, a mixed vegetable curry, and ladled some onto her plate. He didn’t want to talk about his father—fine. But there was a mountain of pain and anger there, and … She paused, spoon in midair.
And what, Emma?

He clearly wasn’t going to talk about it. He didn’t
want
to talk about it—not with her at any rate—and she had no business pursuing it. It wasn’t as if they were close or anything.

A moment later Jake turned to her again. ‘I was abrupt. I shouldn’t have been.’

An apology. Of sorts. ‘It must be a tough time, no matter how you and he …’ The right words eluded her so she reached for the nearest platter instead. ‘Samosa?’

‘Thanks.’ He took one, put it on the side of his plate.
‘I’ve been thinking about you, Emma.’ He leaned ever so slightly her way, with a hint of seduction in the return of that suave tone.

She could feel the heat bleed into her cheeks. ‘I don’t—’

‘Have you considered selling your supplies over the internet?’ He broke off a piece of naan bread. ‘Could be a profitable business for you. You never know—you might be able to give up your day job eventually.’

‘I don’t want to give up my day job.’
I’m not a risk-taker. Mum depends on me financially. I can’t afford to fail
.

‘I could help you with your business plan,’ he continued, as if she’d never spoken. He lowered that sexy voice. ‘You only have to ask.’

His silky words wrapped around her like a gloved hand and an exquisite shiver scuttled down her spine. She could imagine asking him … lots of things. She wondered if his sudden interest and diversionary tactics had anything to do with taking the focus off his own family problems. ‘I don’t have time to waste on the computer, and I told you already it’s not about the money.’
Business plan? What business plan?

‘Lacking computer confidence isn’t something to be embarrassed about.’

‘I’m n—’ With a roll of her eyes she decided her protest was wasted—men like Jake were always right—and topped up her curry with a broccoli floret. ‘I’m flat out supplying the local stores. I don’t need to be online.’

‘It would make it easier. And if your products are so popular why wouldn’t you want to see where they take you?’

She would—oh, she
so
would. Her little cottage business was her passion, but technology was so not her; she wouldn’t know where to start with a website, and her meagre income—which went straight into the household budget—didn’t
allow her to gamble on such a luxury. ‘As I said, there’s no time.’

‘Maybe you need to change your priorities. Or maybe you’re afraid to take that chance?’ He eyed her astutely as he broke off more bread. ‘The offer’s always open if you change your mind.’

Was she so easy to read? An hour or so with Jake and he saw it already. Her fear of failure. Of taking that step into the unknown. He was the last person she’d be going to for help; she felt vulnerable enough around him as it was. ‘Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind.’

Over the next hour the meal was punctuated with great food, toasts to the bride and groom, speeches and recollections of fond memories.

Jake watched on, feeling oddly detached from the whole family and the getting-married scenario. What motivated sane, rational people to chain themselves to another human being for the term of their natural lives? In the end someone always ended up abandoning the other, along with any kids unlucky enough to be caught up in it.

Then Emma excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and Julie claimed Bernice’s attention with wedding talk. He breathed a sigh of relief that for now he wasn’t included in the conversation.

A moment later he saw Emma on her way back and watched, admiring her svelte figure and the way her hips undulated as she walked. Nice. Last night’s fantasy flashed back and a punch of lust ricocheted through his body. She’d been fire and ice yesterday at the club, and he couldn’t help wondering how it might translate to the bedroom.

He saw her come to an abrupt halt as a newly arrived couple cut across her path. His eyes narrowed. Wasn’t that …? Yep. Wayne whoever-he-was. Jake watched on with interest as Wayne’s dinner partner hugged his arm
a moment then walked to the ladies’, leaving Emma and Surfer Boy facing each other.

More like facing off, Jake thought, studying their body language. Even from a distance he could see that Emma’s eyes had widened, that her face had gone pale and that Surfer Boy was trying to talk himself out of a sticky situation fast. Emma spoke through tight lips and shook her head. Then, turning abruptly, she headed straight for the balcony.

Uh-oh
, he thought,
trouble in paradise?

Emma’s whole body burned with embarrassment as she hurried for the nearest sanctuary. She pushed blindly through the glass doors and took in a deep gulp of the cooler air.

He’d had the nerve to introduce the girl.
His fiancée
. Rani—a dusky beauty, heavy on the gold jewellery—had flashed a brand-new sparkle on the third finger of her left hand and said they’d been seeing each other for
over a year
.

While Emma and Wayne had been seeing each other.
Sleeping
with each other.

The bastard.

He’d broken it off with Emma only a month ago. Said it wasn’t working for him. No mention then of a fiancée. Obviously this Rani girl had what it took to keep a man interested.

The worst part was that Emma had let her guard down with him. She’d done what she’d sworn she’d never do—she’d fallen for him big time.

Shielded by palm fronds, she leaned over the railing and stared at the traffic below. But she wasn’t seeing it—she was too busy trying to patch up the barely healed scars
and a bunch of black emotions, like her own stupid gullibility. She’d been used. Deceived. Lied to—

‘Emma.’

She jumped at the sound of Jake’s voice behind her. Embarrassment fired up again. He must have seen the exchange. No point pretending it hadn’t happened. ‘Hi.’ She ran a palm frond through her stiff fingers. ‘I was just talking to an ex.’

‘A recent ex, by the look of things.’ Warm hands cupped her shoulders and turned her towards him. He lifted her chin with a finger, and his eyes told her he knew a lot more than she wanted him to. ‘Should I be sorry?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not very good company right now.’ Shrugging off the intimacy of his touch, she looked down at the street again, at the neon signs that lit the restaurants and cafés.

‘You didn’t answer the question, Em,’ he said softly. ‘But, if you ask me, I’d say he’s not worth being sorry over.’

‘Damn right, he’s not. That was his
fiancée
. According to her, they’ve been together over a year.’

‘Hmm. I see.’

‘Unfortunately for me, I didn’t.’ She stared at the street. ‘We were both busy with work and after-hours commitments, but we always spent Friday nights together.’ Frowning, she murmured, ‘I wonder how he explained that to her?’

‘Friday nights?’ There was a beat of silence, then he asked, ‘You had, like, a regular slot for him, then?’

She watched a couple strolling arm in arm below them and felt an acute pang of loss. ‘We had an understanding.’

‘He
understood
that you scheduled him into your working life like some sort of beauty session?’

Her skin prickled. Wayne had actually been the one doing the
scheduling
, and Emma had been so head over
heels, so desperate to be with him, she’d gone along with whatever he’d asked. ‘He had a busy schedule too.’ Obviously. ‘But Friday night was ours. And he was cheating all along.’

Why the hell was she telling Jake this? Of all people. She turned to him, dragged up a half-smile from somewhere. ‘I’m fine. I was over it weeks ago.’

‘That’s the way.’ He smiled, all easy sympathy, and gave her hand a quick pat. ‘The trick is not to take these things too seriously.’

These things?
Being in love was just one of
these things?
‘And you’d be the expert at that particular trick, wouldn’t you?’ She and Wayne had had an understanding. He’d betrayed her and
that was serious
.

To her surprise, he spoke sharply. ‘Contrary to what you may think, I don’t cheat.’

‘Because you’re not with a woman long enough.’ As if
she
would know his modus operandi these days … she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. She looked up and met Jake’s eyes—dark, intense, like Turkish coffee. ‘Sorry.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s just that you’re here, you’re male, and right now I want to punch something. Or someone.’ Her gaze flicked down to the street. ‘Nothing personal.’

He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Emma, yesterday—’

‘You live your way, I live mine.’ She waved him off. ‘We’re not teenagers any more.’

But was she living her life her way? she wondered as she paced past the balcony’s foliage and back. Or was she living for other people?

After her father had died, leaving them virtually penniless, Emma had spent years working menial jobs after school so that they wouldn’t have to sell her maternal grandmother’s home, and then had supported herself
through her studies. Her mother had been diagnosed with clinical depression soon after their father’s death, and Stella had taken on the role of main carer, but Emma had been the one with the ultimate financial responsibility.

She didn’t mind giving up her time or her money, but her mother was recovered now and Emma’s sacrifices went unacknowledged and unappreciated.

And now she’d discovered the man she’d loved had been cheating on her for God knew how long, and in Jake’s opinion it was because she was so focused on her work.

But Jake knew nothing about it, and she intended for it to stay that way. It did
not
excuse Wayne. Even the fact that the girl was more exotic than she was, more voluptuous … more everything … was no excuse. She was tempted to run downstairs and tell him what she thought of him, let Rani in on his dirty little secret—except she never wanted to see him again and she’d only make herself look like a fool. ‘If nothing else, I expect honesty in a relationship.’

‘You call a regular Friday night bonk a
relationship?
’ he said.

She met his stare with a defiant stare of her own. ‘It suited us.’

‘It suited
you
.’

She bit her lip to stop unwanted words from spilling out. ‘I thought what we had was what he wanted too.’