The Wedding She Always Wanted (15 page)

“The previous owners had a few ATVs they stored in that garage. I’ve been using it as sort of a workshop.” Javy focused on removing the lid from the coffee cup as he spoke, his words and actions a little too casual for Emily to believe.

“What kind of workshop?”

“Mostly just a place to keep my lawn mower and some tools.”

“Uh-huh.” If he thought she’d be satisfied with that non-answer, he was mistaken. Backing up, she said, “Maybe I should just go see for myself, since you don’t want to tell me.”

He caught her arm before she reached the edge of the patio. Even though his grip was light, she felt his muscles tighten, and the tension wiped the teasing smile from her lips.

“Javy, I was only joking.”

“I know.” He rubbed his thumb along the inside of her elbow.

Was it her imagination, or did that soothing touch actually relax
him?
She brushed the thought aside. It was ridiculous to assume she had that much of an effect on him.

Setting their coffees aside on a small bistro table, he said, “Come on. I’ll show you.”

Emily couldn’t pretend she wasn’t curious about what was hidden away in the garage. Obviously more than the vague tools Javy had referred to. But when Javy slid the doors open, she couldn’t hide her amazement. “Javy, this is incredible.”

Peg-Boards lined all three walls, with more tools hanging side by side in precise alignment than Emily could imagine outside a hardware store. Screwdrivers in ascending size ran right to left. Hammers, saws, pliers, chisels and tools she couldn’t name filled every inch of space. A table saw stood in the center of what would normally be a good-sized work space…if not for the tables and chairs crowded around it—tables and chairs Emily recognized.

“The chairs and tables from the restaurant! You refinished them!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah.” Javy ran a hand over the carved back of one chair. “The wood was pretty dry, and the water did some serious damage to the legs. I tried to fix them but…”

His voice trailed off, as if he were confessing some undeni
able failure, but all Emily saw were the same tables and chairs from the restaurant, with a new, polished finish to the walnut stain. “But what? They look amazing. Like brand-new!”

Javy frowned, as if taking her compliment as criticism. “They’re fifteen years old. I wanted them to match—to look the same as all the others. But I don’t know. I must have used the wrong kind of varnish. The finish is too high gloss, and it made the stain too dark. I was hoping to have them ready for the reopening, but I’m not going to have time to strip them down again and start over.”

“Start over? Don’t you dare!” Emily said, dumbfounded that he would even consider scrapping all his hard work. “It doesn’t matter if it’s not a perfect match or if this isn’t how your father would have done it. I know your mother sees changes to the restaurant like she’s losing a precious piece of your father. But you aren’t taking anything away. You’re giving something back. A piece of your dad that Maria has probably already given up as lost and a piece of yourself, as well. How could she not love it?”

And how could
she
not love him? Emily wondered even as she helplessly braced for impact.

T
he reopening was in full swing, and the restaurant’s usually competent staff was showing signs of nerves. Javy couldn’t blame them, even though the excitement charging through his veins had little to do with organizing the additional waiters and waitresses, giving the band he’d hired for the event a hand setting up, or making his way through the dining area to greet the many friends and family who’d stopped by in support.

He was happy with the turnout and hoping for a two-second break to actually enjoy the accomplishment, but his thoughts and, more often than not, his gaze kept drifting toward the front door, searching for Emily. He knew she’d be there; it was impossible to imagine the celebration without her.

It was impossible to imagine his
life
without her.

“So, you’re sure it’s okay?”

Refocusing on his suddenly uncertain chef, Javy insisted, “It’s kick-ass, Juan. Trust me.”

The fiftysomething chef had created a new, hotter than hot salsa for the event, to be served with a side of guacamole to cool things off. He’d been messing with the ingredients for the past five minutes, insisting Javy try each adjustment, even though he’d declared the first taste on a crisp tortilla chip perfect.

The cilantro, the heat from half a dozen peppers, and the burst of cool tomato had exploded with flavor against his taste buds. His heritage had all but banished the words
too hot
from his vocabulary, but when Juan’s hand hovered over a small bright orange habanero, Javy had to protest. “Seriously, Juan, it’s perfect. You know what happens when you mess with perfection.”

The man flashed a gap-toothed grin. “Your mama comes at me with her cast iron.”

“You know it.” Javy pointed at the chef as he backed toward the swinging door. “So don’t touch the salsa.”

“But…”

Javy bumped his way through the door and out into the dining area, shaking his head as Juan’s protest followed him. Javy hoped the chef took a serious step away from the peppers, or they’d need to offer fire extinguishers as party favors.

He froze in midstride as he caught sight of what looked like an impromptu game of musical chairs taking place in front of him. The diners, who’d been seated when he walked into the kitchen moments ago, were moving out of the way, making room for the busboys and waiters, who were carrying in the tables and chairs he was pretty sure he’d left in his garage.

“What—what is this?” Javy asked. The dark stain and high-polish varnish gleamed beneath the lights.

Alex set down a table with a sigh. “Man, couldn’t you’ve stayed in back for a few minutes longer?” his cousin complained. “We wanted to have these all set up before you saw them.”

“I don’t understand. How did you even know…” Javy’s voice trailed off. The answer was obvious.

Emily
. She’d done this for him.

“Emily told me you didn’t think the varnish would be dry in time, so that’s why you didn’t bring the tables and chairs in before. She asked me to check on them one more time, and sure enough, they’re perfect,” Alex explained.

The stain and varnish had dried days ago, but Emily had given an excuse so Javy could save face with his cousin.

“Are you mad?” a hesitant voice asked.

As Emily stepped out from behind Alex, Javy could no longer deny what his heart had known all along. He loved this woman.

“No, I’m not mad. I’m…” A whirlwind of emotions twisted Javy up inside, but he couldn’t possibly pull one from the restless storm. “Not mad,” he finished lamely.

But Emily smiled as if he’d given her a golden compliment. “Good. I couldn’t let you give up on these pieces.” Walking up to him, her eyes glowing, she brushed a kiss against his cheek as she whispered, “They’re too precious to waste.”

“I know,” Javy said.

Just like he knew this time, this opportunity with Emily was too precious to let slip by. He’d known from the start that she wasn’t like the other women he’d dated—she was unique, special. He’d made a mistake with Stephanie, thinking that he could bide his time and that she’d still be waiting for him.

He wasn’t going to make that mistake with Emily.

He took her hands into his, wanting to hold on and never let go. He opened his mouth to tell her how he felt, but just then his mother stepped into the dining area, stopping short just as he had when he saw the tables and chairs.

“What is this? Is this…Javy, what have you done?” Maria gasped.

Emily squeezed his hands as he met his mother’s shocked
gaze. “I refinished the damaged pieces the best I could. I know they aren’t an exact match—”

He didn’t have the chance to give whatever explanation he might have made. Holding out a hand to stop him from talking, her eyes downcast, Maria shook her head and fled the room.

Silence fell over the restaurant, a sharp, painful contrast to the excitement and laughter only seconds before.

“Javy, I am so sorry.” Regret filled Emily’s gaze, dimming the excitement brimming there only seconds earlier. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t. What you did, having Alex bring these back here, it means a lot to me. And I’m sorry my mother isn’t happy with what I’ve done, but the truth is what I told her. I did my best. And that’s all I can do.”

And he was tired of settling for second best—in his relationships and in his work at the restaurant. It was time to give life his all. Starting with the woman standing in front of him.

Emily knew little about the restaurant business, but she knew a success when she saw one, and the reopening was definitely a success. The dining area and bar were packed, and a few brave souls had even opted for outdoor seating despite the unrelenting heat.

Javy was amazing. Emily was willing to bet he talked with every patron to step through the doors, amid coordinating the staff, checking on the kitchen and taking time to introduce the band. If his mother’s earlier silence had any lasting effect, Emily was unable to spot it.

They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk since she’d arrived, but Emily didn’t mind. It gave her a chance to watch him in action, and every now and then, their eyes would meet. Each look held a wealth of promises—promises she planned to hold him to as soon as they were done—but Emily was
starting to think the closing would never happen as the band played one set after another and patrons ordered round after round. Finally, the crowd started to disperse, with nearly every customer stopping by to congratulate Javy.

“You must be exhausted,” Emily murmured as he said good-night to the last of his staff.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he anchored her to his side. “I’m sure I’ll crash soon, but right now I’m feeling pretty invincible.”

“Wow!” Emily raised her eyebrows suggestively. She reached up and gave his bicep a squeeze. “Man of steel, huh?”

Javy groaned. “Don’t tempt me.”

But that was exactly what Emily wanted to do—to tempt Javy beyond the restraint he’d shown the night before. “I can stay until you’re done here,” she offered. Even though everyone had already left, the restaurant was in nowhere near the shape it needed to be in for opening the next day. And she knew Javy would be methodical in shutting down the place before he left. Nerves jumping in her stomach, she added, “Or I could go back to my place, and you could come by when you’re finished….”

Heat flared in Javy’s eyes, and she waited, heart pounding, for him to say yes. The pace only picked up when he caught her hand and led the way outside to the back patio. With the starry night overhead, Emily immediately thought of the night of Kelsey and Connor’s wedding. The first time she’d really talked to Javy and the first time he’d kissed her.

Had that really only been two weeks ago? It seemed too crazy that she could have fallen so far, so fast.

Don’t look down
, she reminded herself even as Javy pulled her into his arms in a kiss that battled with the sultry summer night with its intensity. When he finally eased away to take a much-needed breath, Emily waited for him to agree with her
earlier suggestion, to go back to her place, to finish that they’d started, to…

“Marry me.”

Emily blinked. The pulse still pounding in her ears was messing with her hearing. It was the only explanation. He couldn’t have said…

“Marry me, Emily.”

“What?”

“I love you. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. To have kids and watch them grow…”

Even in the dim light of the patio, Emily could see the certainty and sincerity written in his dark eyes. And she absolutely wasn’t imagining this—because not in a million years would she have imagined Javier Delgado proposing. But the more she listened to Javy—to his plans—the more the frantic feeling of panic threatened to crawl out from inside of her and devour her whole.

“Javy, this is crazy. My
wedding
was less than a month ago.”

“It wasn’t
your
wedding, Emily.”

“No, of course not, but it should have been.” Javy’s jaw tightened, and she hurried to explain. “Not that I think I should have married Todd. That’s
not
what I mean, but—”

“But what?”

“I rushed into an engagement with Todd. If I had taken more time, if I’d thought things through, I would have realized it was a mistake.”

“And you think I’m a mistake.” He took a step back, barriers slamming down like steel bars.

“No, I don’t think that. But I never expected…I didn’t think you were serious about all this. We were supposed to be having fun….” And she’d warned herself time and time again not to fall in love—for all the good it had done.

But at her words, barbed wire and electric fencing added
to the barricade already erected. “Fun?” he echoed with a harsh tone. “Funny thing about
fun
and
good times
…they always come to an end.”

Her heart lurching inside her chest like a wounded animal desperate to escape, Emily ignored the “Do Not Cross” warning signs. “Please, Javy…I love you. I do,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. She’d never imagined telling him how she felt, never imagined that it would hurt
so bad
. “But…”

She’d thought she loved Todd, too. She’d closed her eyes to everything she hadn’t wanted to see—Todd’s silences, his secrets, his manipulation. And while she didn’t want to believe Javy was
anything
like her former fiancé, she couldn’t deny the way he’d initially brushed aside her questions about Stephanie, the way he still hadn’t confided his plans for the restaurant to her, and now…now he was talking about the future—
their
future—as if it was written in stone and she had no say about the house with the white picket fence and about the two-point-five kids he saw living there.

“I just need time. We
both
need time. You’ve had a lot to deal with recently, and now tonight you’re riding high on success and emotion, just like you must have been the night you and Stephanie graduated and you proposed—”

“That was
ten years
ago, Emily. You think I’m still some reckless
kid
who doesn’t know better?” He gave a rough laugh. “Maybe you’re right. I sure as hell don’t seem to have learned my lesson.”

“Javy, that’s not fair. I just need some time—”

“To do what?” he demanded. “Find a better offer?”

Emily swallowed hard, no less hurt than if he’d reached out and slapped her. “No,” she whispered. “Of course not.”

“Then what’s the problem? Either you love me enough to make a commitment or you don’t.” When Emily struggled to
find a way to explain, Javy shook his head. His jaw hardened as he backed away from her. “Obviously you don’t.”

Signs of the party the night before still littered the restaurant when Javy stepped inside the next morning—straw wrappers, discarded napkins and dropped receipts. The night had been filled with laughter, excitement and anticipation but now…now he had nothing to do but clean up the mess. Too bad the debris of his relationship with Emily couldn’t be swept away so easily.

He swore beneath his breath as he grabbed a broom and dustpan from the back. It sure as hell should have been. After all, she’d thrown his proposal—his heart—away like so much trash.

He was in the middle of turning sweeping into a full-contact sport when the back door opened. His heart gave an involuntary lurch when he had no reason to believe Emily would come back to him.

But the woman who stepped into the restaurant was not the one he expected, even though he probably should have.

“Mama, I didn’t think you’d be here this morning.”

As busy as the restaurant had been the night before and wanting to give the employees a chance to celebrate, Javy had instructed the staff to leave the cleaning for the next day. He’d thought he’d be there early enough to have everything done before the first shift. He certainly hadn’t counted on his mother coming in and seeing the mess left behind.

Another mark against him—careless, irresponsible Javier—but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’ll get this cleaned up—”

“It is fine, Javier.” Despite her words, he heard the tremor in her voice, saw the tears she surreptitiously tried to wipe from her cheeks.

“Mama, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing is wrong.” Running a lined hand over the tabletop, she said, “The restaurant, it has not looked so good in years. The work you have done here, all of it, your father would be so proud of.”

As compliments went, Javy couldn’t think of one that would mean more to Maria or to him…if he could bring himself to believe it. “You think?” he asked, the casual question unable to hide his doubt.

“Of course.” Turning his face toward her, she asked, “Why do you think he wouldn’t be?”

After ten years of silence, the admission didn’t come easily. The words stalled in his throat, trapped by guilt and regret. Finally, though, he started talking. “We fought. Right before he got sick, the night I told you both I’d proposed to Stephanie.”

Maria’s eyes widened. “I told him not to talk to you when he was so angry. He needed time to calm down.” They’d both needed time, but they had never had that chance.