Best of Three (Counting on Love) (22 page)

Shannon laughed. “Direct hit.”

“This isn’t over.”

“No way,” Shannon said. “You wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Honey, you know you’re number one when compared to most things,” Michael said. “But this is Play-Doh.”

Another click then a
thwump
. Shannon squealed, Michael laughed, and then Nate heard the sound of running feet. Emma pulled Nate back as the two teens went pounding past, Shannon chasing Michael, both laughing. They ran down the center aisle, then Shannon ducked behind the same plastic storage bins Emma and Nate had used to hide a few minutes ago. Michael took position behind a large rack of rubber balls. He’d lean out and fire a few shots, then duck back as Shannon fired on him.

“Oh my gosh.”

Nate looked down at Emma. She was staring at him “What?”

“You’re
smiling
.”

He frowned. “So?”

“So, you do think they’re adorable. I knew you would if you gave them half a chance.”

“Happy? Yes. Clearly in love? Definitely. Adorable might be pushing it.”

“Come here.” Emma grabbed his sleeve and pulled him around the corner and into the Play-Doh aisle again.

“What are we doing?”

“Checking out their cart before they get back. Then you’ll see there are no condoms and no sleeping bags.”

All of a sudden, Nate didn’t need to look in the cart. Shannon and Michael were…fine.

He wasn’t thrilled the way the relationship was derailing Nate’s plans for his son, but there were good colleges here. He didn’t have to go to Boston to get a good education.

And there was a part of Nate that liked the idea of having Michael closer and around on weekends or even over for dinner during the week—theoretically, anyway.

He hadn’t let himself think too much about how his life would change if Michael was hundreds of miles away at college. But it definitely would. Having him closer wouldn’t be so bad.

He did, however, need to keep Michael from following in his father’s footsteps in another important way. “I’m thinking you’re right and we should throw some condoms in there for them in case they forget to pick them up.”

Emma gave him a surprised look. “How mature and enlightened of you.” She stopped by the cart and reached for something, handing it to him.

A jar of salsa.

“Get it?” Emma asked with a grin.

“Something to make him hot.”

She nodded. “Innocent and fun. But useful,” she added as she took the jar back and handed him a pack of bubble gum. “Sweet and sticky.”

He got it. He reached past her, his hand brushing her arm. He withdrew the big rubber spider. “Something to make her scream.”

“It worked on Shannon.”

He tossed the thing back into the cart. “You’ve made your point.”

“I’m glad.”

They heard the kids’ laughter coming closer again and Nate couldn’t resist leaning around the end of the aisle. He looked in time to see his son grab Shannon around the waist with one arm and pull her in close. Then he kissed her.

Nate had to swallow hard.

That was romantic. And sweet.

Michael was in love.

Everything in Nate urged him to break it up, to protect his son. It felt like watching his son run into traffic after his ball and doing nothing to stop it.

Love made people dumb. Love hurt people. Sometimes irrevocably.

But…he wasn’t convinced. No, it had never worked out for Nate. However, he’d seen his friends, Ryan and Shane, both fall hard, but well. They were happy, they were making their girlfriends happy, no one was folding at the first sign of adversity or lying or manipulating each other.

He had to let this happen for Michael.

On the off chance that it would work.

If it didn’t—there were important life lessons learned from heartbreak too, he supposed.

The kids started back toward them and this time Nate grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her in the opposite direction.

They slipped around the corner as Shannon and Michael came into the aisle.

“We leaving?” Emma asked as they put more distance between themselves and the kids.

They could. But that would mean each of them getting in their own cars and going their own way.

“I’m not leaving until they leave,” he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. It was his reason that had shifted.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“This way.” He led her toward the lawn and garden department and a minute later settled her into one of the outdoor chairs that was part of the patio set display.

“We’re hanging out?”

“For now.” He sat across from her, facing the toy section where Shannon and Michael were still messing around. He doubted they would have a reason to come back in this direction, but he’d see them before they saw him.

Emma crossed her long, gorgeous legs and regarded him. “You’re going to want to talk about our feelings now aren’t you?”

“I want to know why you think that I think you’re a sucker.”

“I’m not giving anything else up easy, Nate.”

“When has anything between us been easy?”

“When you told me to pull my skirt up and I did it.”

He instantly went hot and hard. He shifted in his seat. He cleared his throat. Yeah, that had been surprisingly easy.

“I think I like easy with you,” Nate said.

She gave him a half smile and shook her head. “I don’t think you do, actually. I think you like when I give you a hard time.” She tipped her head. “It helps you trust me.”

She was looking at him with far too much perception. And she was close to being completely right. He’d been there. The women who fell too easily, who were too interested, too accommodating, too willing, were hard to believe. When Emma said yes, he knew she meant it because she never hesitated to say no or tell him when he was being a jerk or that she thought one of his ideas was dumb.

“Never mind. Let’s not talk,” he decided.

“What are we going to do instead?”

“I could go grab a board game from the shelf.”

“Oh, sure, you and I should totally sit here and play Life.”

“Tell me about the sucker comment.” But he was starting to suspect why she’d said it. She thought he was faking it all.

“First, you tell me about the girl who broke your heart.”

He coughed. Dammit. “I told you about Michael’s mom.”

“I know. But I think there had to be another one. You’re too smart a guy to think that one woman’s betrayal means they will all hurt you. But you’re also too smart to fall for three women who would hurt you.”

Up until about a week ago, she was right on. Now he was beginning to wonder. Emma would be the third. If he let himself fall.

If he had a choice in the matter, anyway.

“There was another one,” he admitted.

Emma glanced around.

“What?” he asked. He was about to open up and she was already distracted?

“Where did I leave my chocolate-covered pretzels?”

“Seriously?”

“This story is going to be good,” she said, looking at him again. “A snack would be perfect.”

“This isn’t for your entertainment.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Some insight into you and your behavior? Definitely enjoyable.”

He leaned in, watching her carefully. “Why so interested in getting insight into me and my behavior?”

She shrugged. “You’re different than most guys. Not as easy to figure out.”

“Thank you.”

“You would think that was a compliment.”

“I do. Men are very predictable where you’re concerned, I would imagine,” he said. He didn’t have to imagine. He knew it was true. He’d watched enough men interact with Emma to know their pattern.

“Predictable how?”

“They take one look at you and decide they have to have you. Then you say something or laugh or dance with them and they realize they’ll do anything for you. Any guy, any time.”

Her eyes were wide, her eyebrows nearly to her hairline.

He gave her a little smirk. He loved shocking her with what he knew about her. “I like being different than those guys.”

She visibly relaxed, her expression smoothing. “Because, in spite of everything, you haven’t decided you’ll do anything to have me?”

Was that a bit hurt he detected in her voice? This was nothing to be hurt about. He was nearing the point of doing anything and the problem was that he had the stubborn streak, the money and the resources to be really over-the-top about it.

“I want to know if
you’ll
do anything to have me have you,” he told her.

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“With the other guys you don’t even give it any thought. There’s no real analysis on your part if you
want
a guy to be into you. He simply is. They all are. So you never have to give it any thought or effort. I want to know how much you want me to want you.”

She seemed to be processing that for a moment. “How did we get back to talking about me? I want to know about the chick that broke your heart.”

He’d gotten too close to a truth she didn’t want him to know. Interesting. Fine, he’d tell her about Trish. He’d give her a chance to see that no matter how much he wanted her, he wasn’t going to give up the control he needed to have. Emma needed to understand that.

“She was my fiancée.”

Chapter Eight

Emma sat up straight. “You were
engaged
?”

How had she not known that? And why did it give her such a sick feeling in her stomach?

She knew the answer immediately as she looked at Nate lounging in the display patio chair. Because she liked thinking he was difficult and emotionless in general. But if he’d fallen for someone hard enough to
propose
that meant he was capable of deep, intense feelings. Just not for Emma.

“Yes. Michael was seven when I met Trisha.”

Trisha. Yuck. She sounded like a stuck up bitch.

Emma made herself sit back in her chair and look cool. “Go on.”

“Our grandfathers were friends. We were introduced at a charity event. She was the CEO of the charitable foundation—beautiful, sophisticated, the whole package.”

And Emma was buying a cartful of liquor at Carl-Mart when he saw her. Real sophisticated.

Emma hated Trisha.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” she commented.

“Yep. She was perfect for me. She even loved Michael.”

She
loved Michael, Emma thought. Michael was a great guy. He made her laugh, he’d fixed her laptop more than once, and they texted jokes and websites back and forth regularly.

“That’s a good thing if you’re wanting to
marry
a woman, I’d say,” Emma replied.

“It is,” Nate agreed. “Especially if that woman can’t have children of her own.”

Oh. Now she felt a twinge of sympathy for Trisha. “She wanted kids?”

“That’s what she told me,” Nate said calmly. “She told me the fact that she could be a mom after all meant the world to her.”

Damn. Maybe even perfect women didn’t always get their way.

“What happened?”

“Three months before our wedding I found out she was suffering from some medical complications.”

His voice remained calm and even, but there was something in his eyes now that made Emma lean in. “Complications?”

Oh, crap. Had Trisha died of cancer or something? Emma was going to feel bad about the bitchy thoughts if that was the case.

“She was bleeding a lot, in pain, anemic,” he said. “They decided they needed to do a hysterectomy.”

Not cancer then. Or was it? There was such a thing as uterine cancer. “How old was she?”

“Thirty.”

“Yikes. How long were you together?”

“Almost two years. And I’d already come to terms with not having more biological children. It was the only thing to do for her health, but I was, of course, concerned about what was causing the bleeding and pain.”

“Was it cancer?” Emma blurted out. She didn’t want Nate to be brokenhearted over a dead fiancée.

He shook his head. “Not cancer. It was scar tissue. From the two abortions she’d had.”

Emma flinched, partly from the impact of the words and partly from the rage she could hear in Nate’s tone underlying the words.

“How did that happen? She couldn’t get pregnant,” Emma said.

“She’d lied. She didn’t
want
to get pregnant. She didn’t want to deal with morning sickness and stretch marks. She also didn’t want to change dirty diapers or get up in the middle of the night. She’d been specifically looking for a man who didn’t want kids or who already had older kids and where there was no birth mom in the picture.”

Emma felt her mouth drop open. She was quite comfortable with her bitchy thoughts and dislike for Trisha now.