The Night Before Christian (5 page)

Emory found herself in
the same dire situation she’d been in the day before. Fighting her lingering
attraction to Christian. Why hadn’t she gone with her first instinct and called
a cab before he arrived to chauffeur her to work?

Because you’re an idiot,
that’s why. What in the hell are you doing here, Emory? You know better than
this. You’re not a homewrecker.
But was she truly committing a crime? She
glanced over at Christian behind the steering wheel.
Yes
. One of deep
passion.

Emory released an
inward groan. This man grew more and more handsome by the second. To think, all
of him used to be hers. Those soft lips could once tame her with just a brush
across hers. Broad shoulders that’d once carried the weight of any of her
worries on them. Powerful arms that’d held her when she’d needed to be
comforted—or just held close to him. Arms she needed wrapped around her now,
ensuring her that everything would be fine.

“Everything okay?” he
asked.

Jolting from the fact
she’d been caught staring at him, she nodded and turned away from his prying
eyes.
Let him go, Emory
. The command was as hard to follow now as it had
been two years ago. Spending time with him only made it more difficult to
comprehend the fact that he belonged to someone else. His presence reminded her
of how good they were together. Reminded her of just how much she’d missed this
man in her life.

As routine, she repeated
to herself that she’d sacrificed her happiness for Christian’s. That knowledge
did little to fill the empty hole in her heart losing him had created.

The words his
grandmother spat at her like venom the night before Emory ended things with
Christian played in her head. Recalling the woman’s harsh, cruel tone made
Emory feel like that weak and broken girl who’d stood in the foyer of the St.
Claire manor and lied to the man she loved. Why had she been so weak?

“Daydreaming?”

Christian’s words
grounded her in present time. “Just listening to the song. It’s one of my
favorites.” Of course, she really hadn’t needed to tell him that.

With the press of a
finger, he increased the volume and Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is
You,” filled the cabin. He winked, then returned his focus to the road ahead.

Emory didn’t seem to be
the only one with a lot on their mind. Christian hadn’t said much since they’d
left her place. Something was obviously troubling him. Did it have something to
do with the phone call he’d taken? Had it been Yasmin on the opposite end? If
so, did hearing her voice cause him guilt for being there with Emory?

Emory lowered the
volume and Mariah’s voice faded. “Are you okay, Christian? You seem
preoccupied.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m
good.”

The weak smile he
flashed wasn’t overly convincing, but who was she to dispute. If he said he was
good, he was good. “Okay.” Her focus shifted back out the window, but it didn’t
stay there long. “It’s just that you seem like something is troubling you.”

Christian flashed a
half-smile. “That’s cute.”

“What’s cute?”

“Your concern.”

Emory rolled her eyes
away. “Whatever. Just can’t be nice to some people without them taking it out
of context.” Facing him again, she said, “And for the record, I’m not
concerned. I just wanted to make sure you were focused on driving. I don’t want
you to run me into a telephone pole or something.”

He barked a laugh.
“Well, gee, thanks for your
non
concern. I’ll do my very best to keep you
alive. I wouldn’t want your death on my conscious.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

She reached forward and
cranked the volume on the radio. “Fantastic.”

Coming to a red light,
he shut the radio off. “Do you always have to get the last word?”

She was about to say
something snarky and clever, but the way Christian’s eyes raked over her face
muted her. His eyes lowered to her parted lips—lingering way too long for
comfort, in her opinion. The temperature inside the SUV tripled. This man was
turning her into a fool for love.

Banishing the quiver in
her stomach, the pressure between her thighs, and the hum in her heart, she
said, “Light’s green,” in a low, yielding tone that she hadn’t meant to use.

“So it is,” he said,
the road ahead reclaiming his attention.

Christian pulled away
from the light and made a right onto Person Street, forcing Emory to bolt forward
in the seat. “Ah, where are we going? My shop—and car—are both in the opposite
direction.”

“Breakfast. I’m
starving.”

Was he serious? Hadn’t
they already established that dining together was not a good idea? Did he
believe that had changed? “I really need to have my car running this morning,
Christian. I have to pick my mother up from the hospital. You can’t continue to
chauffeur me around town. I’ve occupied too much of your time already.”
And
you’ve consumed far too many of my thoughts
.

“Did I not mention I
had your car towed first thing this morning? One of my boys owns an auto body
shop off of New Bern Avenue.”

Had my car towed
first thing this morning?

“He originally thought
it was the battery, but discovered acid had leaked and corroded some wires.
There were a few other issues, too.
Major
issues. When was the last time
you had that vehicle serviced?”

She hadn’t. Anything
other than the standard oil change required additional monies. Funds she didn’t
have. Had her car towed? A vision of an astronomical bill played in her head.
Lifting his phone from the center console, she pushed it toward him and said,
“You should call him before he gets started.”

Christian’s brow
furrowed. “Call him for what?”

“
Because
—” She
closed her eyes briefly to steady her tone. Meeting his questioning gaze, she sighed
a sound of defeat. “Because I can’t afford it, Christian.” Her pride took a
hit, but she’d always been able to be honest with Christian without judgement.

“But I can. It’s
already taken care of, Emory. It won’t cost you anything. Other than a few more
hours with me. But if that’s so unbearable, I can rent you a car.”

“I don’t need you to
take care of it, Christian. I don’t need you to take care of
me
. Call
him.” She wasn’t good at playing the damsel in distress.

“No. You’re being
ridiculous, Em.”

Emory shifted in her
seat. “Call him.”

Christian laughed, but it
lacked humor. “You’re still as stubborn as hell. Will you please swallow some
of that pride and let me help you?”

“And you want what in
return?”

Apparently, her words
struck a sour note with Christian, because he veered the SUV off the shoulder
so fast, she nearly suffered whiplash.

Facing her with
furrowed brows, he said, “I don’t want anything in return. Is that why you think
I’m doing this? Because I want something from you?”

“I don’t know what to
think. Why
are
you doing it? Why are you being so kind to me? Just a
week ago you were ready to strangle me in my conference room. Why the change?”

His jaw flexed, then
relaxed. The fight she saw in his eyes fizzled, and the tension present in his
shoulders relaxed.

“We loved each other
once, Emory. You’re going through something. I just want to help. That’s all.
Nothing more, nothing less.”

They stared at each
other for a long, hard moment. If she’d wanted to say more, she wouldn’t have
been able to. Not after what he’d just said. After what felt like an eternity
connected to him, she turned away and settled against the seat.

A beat later, he pulled
back into traffic.

“Thank you,” she
mumbled. “I’ll pay you back every cent.”

“And I won’t accept
it.”

Emory folded her arms
across her chest and rode that way until Christian pulled into the parking lot of
her favorite breakfast spot. A place she hadn’t visited since they’d split.
Why
here
of all places
?

Christian pulled into a
space alongside the Citi Café, popped the gear shift into park, killed the
engine, and opened his door. “Are we going to have breakfast, or are you going
to just sit there and pout?”

Oh, he played dirty
.
He knew she couldn’t resist. Giving him the evil eye, she said, “Well, if I
have to put up with you, I guess I shouldn’t have to do it on an empty
stomach.”

He released a hearty
laugh, then shook his head. “You don’t spare a punch, do you?”

Before he could get
around to her side of the vehicle, Emory was out and moving toward the
restaurant. Jesus, her legs hurt. Why had she chosen last night to go overboard
with the squats? She tossed a glance over her shoulder at Christian. He was
why. She’d needed some way to quiet the sexual frustration he’d caused.

Christian reached
around her to open the door, but she plowed through before he could. Admittedly,
she was being a brat to the one person going out of his way to help her. It
wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his efforts, because she most certainly did.
It was that his kindness reminded her of why she’d fallen in love with him in
the first place. That big heart of his. She didn’t need any more reminders that
she still loved him, dammit.

The second they were
inside, someone called out to them. When Emory rotated in the direction of her
name, Passion Phillips, Citi’s proprietor, waddled across the room toward them.
The woman was as pregnant as pregnant could get.

“Oh, my God. It’s like
seeing two ghosts.” Passion hugged Emory, then Christian.

“You look amazing,
Passion,” Emory said. “You definitely have a motherly glow.”

Passion rested hand
against her forehead. “I look—and feel—like I’m about to explode, but thank you
for the compliment.”

“How far along are
you?” Emory asked.

“Six months.”

Christian’s eyes
widened. “Six months? Are you having twins?”

Emory swatted him
playfully.

“It’s okay,” Passion
said with a laugh. “Everyone has the same reaction. No. There’s only one in the
oven.”

Emory couldn’t believe
Passion still had three more months to go. The woman looked over baked.

Passion rested her
hands on her hips. “Where have you two been?”

Emory dreaded the
question. How did she answer it? She looked to Christian for guidance, but he
simply folded his arms across his chest and rocked back and forth on his heels
as if he couldn’t wait to hear her response.

Luckily, before Emory
was forced to craft some plausible tale, Passion was summoned to the kitchen.
Emory blew out a sigh of relief.

“Sit anywhere you’d
like,” Passion said, wobbling away.

“Saved by the bell,”
Christian said under his breath.

She elbowed him in the
ribs.

Sliding into one of the
booths near the back of the restaurant, Emory immediately lowered her eyes to
the menu. “I’m starving.” She could feel Christian’s gaze settled on her, but
she refused to look up at him. He did that a lot, she’d noted, watched her as
if he were trying to decode her thoughts.

Cautiously meeting his
gaze, a hint of nervousness rippled through her. What did he see when he eyed
her? Maybe he saw the woman who’d promised to always love him. Maybe he saw the
woman who’d promised to always be his. Maybe he saw the woman who’d promised
him a house full of babies. “
Girls as gorgeous as their mother
,” he’d
said. “
And boys as handsome as their father
,” she’d said in return.

Maybe he didn’t see any
of that. Maybe he saw the woman who’d lied about it all.
Except about loving
him forever
, she told herself. That promise she’d kept. Too bad he would
never know it.

“I have to ask you
something, Emory. It’s been eating at me. I know it shouldn’t because it
doesn’t matter, but…”

Uh
-
oh
.
Whatever it was, she was sure she wasn’t ready for it. “Okay.”

Christian rested his
elbows on the table, intertwined his fingers, and eyed them briefly. Glancing
up at her, he said, “What your mother said about her being the reason you…” He
stopped briefly. “That wasn’t—”

Her reply was swift. “No.”
Unable to get a read on his facial expression, Emory wasn’t sure if he believed
her or not.

Finally, he interrupted
the awkwardness.

“So, you’d really just
fallen out of love with me?”

And made it that much
more uncomfortable.

“Shit. Forget I said
that,” Christian said. “We were a long time ago. What’s the use of dwelling on
the past? We’ve both moved on, right?”

You’ve moved on
,
she wanted to say. “Yes, we have. Just think, you’ll be married soon. Not many
people are so lucky to find their soul mate after only six months of dating.
You should consider yourself blessed.” God, did she sound bitter? Yes. Lowering
her eyes to the menu again, she said, “Their soup of the day is She-Crab. I
remember the first time I ever had She-Crab soup. We were—”

She stopped abruptly,
the smile the memory had elicited sliding from her face. The first time she’d
had the soup was on a trip they’d taken to Kiawah Island in South Carolina.
It’d also been the first time they’d made love. The weekend had been so
beautiful, so perfect that it could have been mistaken for a dream. But it
hadn’t been a dream. She’d pinched herself numerous times to make sure.

“Our trip to Kiawah Island,”
he said.

Emory massaged the side
of her neck. “Yeah.”

“That was a good
weekend.
Great
weekend, actually.”

A cautious smile lifted
the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, it was. Well, except for me running over a
rock and crashing into the bushes.”