The Morning After The Wedding Before (4 page)

‘Yeah, I’m sure it was.’

His dry comment riled her further. She rubbed the chill from her arms while inside her the anger and hurt and humiliation burned bright and strong. Better him thinking she was an idiot than knowing the embarrassing truth—that she was a naïve, gullible idiot.

‘Sometimes I get so damn tired of doing what everyone else wants. What other people expect …’ She trailed off when she saw Wayne and Rani outside an Italian restaurant
on the street below. While his
fiancée
studied the menu in the window he glanced up and met Emma’s eyes.

Renewed outrage surged through the other emotions in a dark wave. She refused to step back, refused to be the one to break eye contact. How dared he? Their weekly love-in had been a lie. They’d been seeing each other for months and the whole time he’d been deceiving her.

Making a fool of her.

In an uncharacteristic move, she made a rude hand gesture … and it felt good. Especially when Wayne looked away first. She spun away towards Jake, finding an oddly reassuring comfort in his presence. ‘And sometimes I just want to live my own life and to hell with everything and everyone.’

‘So start now, Em,’ he said, his voice gentle yet firm. ‘Change your life. Do what you want for a change.’

She stared into those dark eyes holding hers. What
did
she want?

All she saw was Jake.

Every rational thought flew away. Every drop of sense drained out of her as she stepped nearer to him, her eyes only leaving his to drift to his mouth.

What I want …

Before she could warn herself that this was a Really Bad Idea, she launched forward, cupped his jaw between her hands and plastered her lips to his.

Her heart gave a single hard jolt, and a little voice whispered,
This is what I’ve been waiting for
. The sizzle zapped all the way to her toes and back again before frustration and fury liquefied into heat and hunger. She flung herself into the moment, indulging her senses. The warmth of his mouth against hers was a counterfoil for his cool, refreshing scent—like moss on a pristine forest floor.

Caught off guard, Jake rocked back on his heels before
steadying himself, and her, his hands finding purchase on the smooth slope of her hips as he kissed her back.

Emma. Her taste—new and unforgettably sweet. The fragrance of soap and shampoo and woman all wrapped up in the texture of skin-warmed silk beneath his fingers.

She was a rising tornado of emotion and needs, and it whipped around the edges of his own darker desires. The word
complication
lurked somewhere at the back of his mind. He shrugged it away and instead, sliding his palms around to her back, hauled her closer and settled in to savour more of the exquisite sensations battering him.

‘Ohh …’ The sound was exhaled on a strangled gasp as firm hands pushed at his chest. She jerked out of his hold, eyes wide. ‘I didn’t … That was …’

‘Nice,’ he finished for her. His hormone-ravished body protested the gross understatement even as he knew she was just using him to get back at the drivelling idiot probably still watching the performance from the other side of the street.

As quickly as it had blown in the whirlwind subsided leaving only a tantalising whisper as she stared up at him, rolled her lips between her teeth and said, ‘I don’t know why I … did that.’

‘You were upset. I was here.’ Enjoying the way her eyes reflected her conflict, he couldn’t help but grin. ‘Have to tell you it wins hands down over the punch you threatened to dole out earlier.’

‘I … need to see if Mum’s ready to go home.’

‘Emma.’ He lifted a hand, dropped it when she edged farther away. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. It was just a kiss. And I’m sure Wayne got the message.’

She flinched as if he’d hit her. ‘
He
wasn’t the … He wasn’t look—I was … Oh, forget it.’

And in the light filtering through from the restaurant
he glimpsed twin spots of colour flag her cheeks before she whirled around and made a dash to the door.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he leaned a hip against the railing while he waited for his body’s horny reaction to subside.
You kiss me like that, honey, I ain’t gonna forget
.

It was too bad she’d come to her senses so quickly. He didn’t mind being used when it came in the form of a beautiful woman in distress—particularly when the woman had seemed oblivious that she
had
, in fact, used him. He looked down at the street. No sign of the scumbag.

He could still smell Emma; the fresh, untainted fragrance lingered in the air, on his clothes. The flavour of that one luscious kiss still danced on his tastebuds. The surprise of it—of
her
—like the first green sprout emerging from the carnage of a bushfire, still vibrated along his bones. She’d reacted without thinking for a hot and heavy moment there, and he’d enjoyed every second.

So had she.

And he wasn’t going to let her forget either. Her weekly love-in arrangement proved she did casual. And she expected honesty from her lover. They had something in common on both counts.

He watched her walk towards a group who were preparing to leave and smiled to himself. The upcoming wedding weekend was looking better and better.

Emma gulped in a calming breath, drew herself tall, and walked unsteadily towards her table, trying not to remember she’d just kissed Jake Carmody senseless. Correction:
she
was the one who was senseless. The dinner left-overs had been cleared away. Only a rumpled and food stained red tablecloth remained. And a few curious faces were aimed her way.

‘Emma …’ Stella trailed off, her gaze sliding over Emma’s shoulder.

The back of Emma’s neck warmed. Her cheeks scorched. ‘Um … sorry.’ Was it possible to speak more than one word at a time? She waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Needed some air.’

‘We were starting to wonder whether you two had slipped away without—’

‘Jake and I were just catching up.’ She collected her purse. ‘Mum, are you ready to leave? I’ve got some work to do before I go to bed.’ She didn’t wait for an answer, moving around the table saying her goodnights.

‘Can I get a lift with you?’ Stella reached for her own bag. ‘Ryan’s taking his parents home, and I want a couple of early nights this week.’

‘Sure.’ Emma steered clear of Jake, muttering a quick goodnight without looking at him, and from a safe distance on the other side of the table, then headed for the stairs.

‘You okay, Em?’ Stella asked beside her as they drove home. ‘You’re awfully quiet.’

‘Wayne came into the restaurant while we were there,’ she said, her voice tightening. ‘With his fiancée.’

‘Oh. Oh, Em. I’m sorry. You guys split up—what?—only a month ago?’

‘What did you expect?’ her mother piped up from the back seat. ‘If you mixed with the right people like your sister, instead of hiding away in that studio night after night, y—’

‘I’m not hiding.’ Emma sighed inwardly. Stella had nursed their mother, then fallen in love with a wealthy man; in Bernice Byrne’s eyes her younger daughter could do no wrong. ‘I enjoy what I do, Mum.’

‘Like you enjoyed cleaning other people’s toilets and
stocking supermarket shelves after school too, I remember. Just another excuse not to meet people.’

Emma pressed her lips together to stop the angry words from rushing out.
Yeah, Mum? Where would we be if I hadn’t? In a rented bedsit on the wrong side of town. Not in Gran’s home, that’s for sure
.

‘Mum, that’s not fair.’ Stella spoke sharply.

‘It’s not, Stella. But then, life’s not always fair—right, Mum?’ Emma glanced at her mother in the rearview mirror. ‘And sometimes it makes us hurt and lash out and say things we shouldn’t. So I forgive you. You’re not sorry about Wayne, Stella, and neither am I. And I don’t want to talk about it.
Him
.’

‘No, you’d rather kiss that good-for-nothing Jake Carmody behind the palms like some floozie,’ her mother muttered.

Emma jolted, her whole body burning with the memory. And her mother, of all people, had obviously seen the entire catastrophe. Something close to rebellion simmered inside her and made her say, ‘Jake’s hardly a good-for-nothing, Mum—he has a well-established practice in business law.’ She couldn’t help feeling a sense of indignation on his behalf.

The strip club aside, she knew enough about Jake to know he’d worked hard all those years ago, taking jobs where he could get them to pay his way through uni.

Whereas Ryan came from old money. He’d graduated in the sciences and held a PhD in Microbiology—all expenses paid by Daddy. Then he’d volunteered his skills in Africa for a couple of years before hooking up again with Stella.

From the corner of her eye she saw Stella shift in her seat and turn to look at her. Suddenly uncomfortable, Emma lifted a shoulder. ‘What?’

‘Jake
kissed
you?’ she said slowly. ‘Like a proper kiss?’

‘Not exactly.’ Emma couldn’t resist a quick glance at her mum in the mirror again. ‘Mum got it right. It was more like … I kissed him.’ As she relived that moment something like exhilaration shot through her bloodstream. ‘What about it?’

‘Ooh, that’s so … hmm … You and Jake?’

Emma heard the smile in her sister’s voice, could almost hear her mind ticking over.

‘Wouldn’t it be cool if—?’

‘
Not
me and Jake. You know him. Every red-blooded female in Sydney knows him. Didn’t mean anything.’

‘But—’

‘No buts.’

‘Okay.
But …
The wedding will give you two time to catch up. You liked him well enough when we were younger, I remember.’

‘Yeah—in a galaxy far, far away.’

‘Not that far, Em. He lives in Bondi now. Only an hour’s stroll along the coast … if you feel inclined.’

‘I don’t. I won’t.’

But she couldn’t blot him from her mind when she crawled into bed that night. She
had
been looking forward to seeing Jake again, even if it was only to assure herself she was well and truly over him.

But she didn’t want to catch up with a seedy strip club owner who used women for his own purposes—both for his personal satisfaction and his burgeoning bank account.

But, oh, that moment of insanity … his lips on hers, his hands tugging her against the heat of his hard, muscled body …

And it
was
insanity. She stared up at the music room’s low stained ceiling and tried not to hear the thick elevated thud of her heartbeat in her ears. She could have kept it
simple. A friendly few days in the company of a good-looking guy. But she’d kissed him like one of his Brandies or Candies … and she’d changed everything.

S
TIFLING
a yawn, Emma glanced at her watch and wondered if Stella’s hen’s party would ever end. Twelve-thirty. The male stripper had done his thing and left to raucous feminine laughter and a wildly improper proposition or two over half an hour ago. The girls were now sitting around Emma’s table drinking what remained of a bottle of vodka.

Emma had sat on one glass of wine the entire evening. She needed a clear head. She still had half a dozen orders to fill when the others left.

Emma glanced at the bleary-eyed girls in various stages of intoxication as Joni poured the remains of the vodka into her glass and laid the bottle on its side on the table. ‘Don’t any of you girls have to work in the morning?’ she asked.

‘It’s Friday tomorrow,’ Joni said, spinning the bottle lazily between two fingers. ‘Nothing gets done on a Friday anyway.’

‘Well, I don’t want to be a party pooper but I’ve got work to finish tonight.’

Karina pointed at her. ‘You need to get a life, Emma Dilemma.’ She downed her drink, slapped her glass on the table and slurred, ‘Seriously. Your hormones must be shrivelling up with neglect. When was the last time you got laid?’

‘Kar, give it a rest.’ Stella shot Emma a concerned look. ‘She broke up with her boyfriend a few weeks ago.’

Karina squinted at Emma through glazed green eyes. ‘You had a
boyfriend?
’

Emma could see it in Karina’s eyes—
How did you find the time?
—and her whole body tightened. ‘He wasn’t a boyfriend as such …’ She picked up her glass, touched the rim against her lips. ‘He was convenient. More like a bed buddy.’ Even if Wayne
had
seen their relationship that way, in Emma’s book bed buddies didn’t cheat. When the gaggle of giggles subsided she angled her glass in Karina’s direction. ‘You’d be familiar with the concept of bed buddies.’

‘Totally.’ Karina grinned. ‘Way to go, Em,’ she enthused, then raised a hand. ‘Okay, enough of the true confessions. We’re hungry, aren’t we, girls? And since you’re the only sober one here, Emma Dilemma, how about being a good little bridesmaid and fetching us a burger from that shop down the road?’

‘And fries,’ Joni added, stuffing another chocolate in her mouth.

‘I’ll go to the drive-through. It’s closer.’

Karina shook her head. ‘Nuh-uh. We want real hamburgers with proper meat—not that cardboard stuff.’

‘Yeah,’ Joni agreed. ‘With lashings of bacon.’

Stella leaned to the side and massaged Emma’s neck a moment. ‘Come on, Em. I
looove
you, sis,’ she cajoled in a boozy voice, then pulled her purse from her bag. ‘My treat.’

Emma pushed up. Anything for peace. ‘Okay. Providing you take your orders and eat them somewhere else. I’ve got to work.’

‘You’re a good sport, Em.’ Karina stood, slung an arm around Emma’s neck. She patted Emma’s backside, then grinned hugely. ‘Off you go, now.’

‘Told you they’d still be awake,’ Ryan said as the limo pulled into the Byrnes’ driveway.

They’d dropped off the rest of the guys from the bucks’ night, but Ry had got it into his head to kiss Stella goodnight before going home, and Jake—well, he was along for the ride. It was his responsibility to ensure nothing happened to Ryan before the big day. It had nothing to do with Emma living here too.

‘Not sure they’ll appreciate us gatecrashing their evening.’ With a few beers under his belt, Jake stretched his long legs out in front of him. He’d assured Stella he’d look out for Ryan, and he’d done a pretty good job. He glanced at the slightly worse-for-wear groom-to-be. Mostly. Then he looked down to the well-lit studio. ‘What do you suppose the girls get up to on a hens’ night?’

‘We’re about to find out.’ Ryan was already fumbling with the door.

‘Steady, mate. I promised Stella I’d get you home in one piece.’

‘Whoa …’ Ryan murmured as the limo’s lights swept an arc across the driveway, whitewashing the unexpected view of a female figure half-in, half-out of a car. ‘Nice arse.’

Jake blinked at the flash of leggings-clad backside poking out of the open door, then took his time to admire the slender thighs and shapely calves rising from a pair of silver stilettos. A spark of interest danced along his veins. ‘Careful,’ he murmured with a grin. ‘You’re practically a married man.’

‘Doesn’t mean I’m dead.’

But Jake’s attention had focused on what looked like a neon sticker in the shape of a hand on the girl’s backside. ‘What
is
that?’ He squinted. The words
Pat Me
glittered
in gold. ‘Don’t mind if I do,’ he murmured, still grinning. His grin faded. ‘Isn’t that Emma’s car?’

‘Reckon you’re right.’ Both men looked at each other.
‘
Emma
?’

They turned back to see her unfurling from the car’s depths. Dropping a loose soda can into the carton on her hip, she righted herself only to freeze in the headlights like a stunned, lanky-legged gazelle.

Incredulous, Jake felt his whole body tense as he took in the view.
Hot
. Over the leggings she wore a slinky white sleeveless top with a scooped neckline, blanched in the glare and highlighting enough curves to start her own Grand Prix.

‘Eyes off, buddy.’ He cleared his suddenly dry throat. ‘She’s about to become your sister-in-law.’

But Jake wasn’t honour-bound by any such restriction. Eyes still feasting on the mouthwatering sight, he unfolded himself and climbed out, leaning an elbow on the open door. Cool air hit him. He could smell burgers.

‘Emma. Wow.’

He gave himself a mental kick up the backside.
Well said
. Spoken like a freaking teenager. Where the hell were his sophisticated, urbane conversational skills? But his brain didn’t seem to be functioning because all his blood had drained below his belt.

She seemed to come out of her daze, eyes widening as they met his. ‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ she said, tight-lipped, as she turned and headed for the door at a rate of knots.

‘Careful …’ he called. Too late—he was already moving forward as he saw her stiletto bend and her ankle crumple. He heard her swear before she landed on that watch-worthy rear end in front of him, the carton she’d been carrying landing beside her.

Ryan rescued the carton with a muffled, ‘I’ll get Stella,’ and made his escape as Jake squatted beside her. ‘Emma?’ He reached for her elbows. ‘Are you okay?’

Emma groaned, but not nearly as much from the pain shooting up her calf as from her spectacular fall from grace in front of
this
man. She felt Jake’s hands on her, his warm breath washing over her face, and closed her eyes. ‘Just let me die now.’

She heard that rich caramel chuckle of his. He had both her shoes off before she could stop him. Gentle fingers probed her ankle, and a voice laced with calm concern and a hint of amusement said, ‘So this is what you girls get up to on hen nights. Ry and I were wondering.’

She started to shuffle away from him but felt her leggings snag on the rough cement. She heard a strange sound, like Velcro parting, and stopped abruptly. ‘I’m okay,’ she said, gritting her teeth. Or she would be if she didn’t die of embarrassment first. ‘Now go away.’

He moved around behind her, slid his hands beneath her arms and hauled her upright so that his body was in intimate contact with her back. His big, hot
masculine
body. Her practically naked back. And nothing but thin torn jersey between her bare bottom and his … pelvis. Liquid heat spurted into her cheeks, along her limbs and everywhere their bodies touched.

‘I told you I’m fine.’ She tried to shrug away from the intimate contact but he didn’t budge.

‘Test your weight on it,’ he ordered.

Her ankle tweaked when she set it on the ground but she stifled a wince and said, ‘See? Fine.’

‘Yeah, I can see.’

Ryan and the girls spilled out of the studio just as Jake swept her up into his arms. In an automatic reaction she
clutched at his shoulders, and for an instant of lunacy she wallowed in the strength and heat surrounding her.

Being held against Jake’s chest and carried inside was like being lifted into the clouds. She gazed up at his square shadow-stubbled chin. And just above that were … those lips.

Instant tension gripped her insides and refused to let go. Had she so quickly forgotten she’d kissed those lips? And
how?
That she’d flung herself at this man in an instant of heightened emotion was going to have to live with the reminder for the rest of her life? Or until after the wedding at least.

‘It’s going to be okay, Stella, don’t worry,’ she told her sister as Jake set her on the saggy old couch. Right now she was more concerned with that ripping sound she’d heard. ‘Pass me that sarong on the armchair, will you?’

‘Are you chilled?’ Stella said, her voice anxious. ‘Do you want a blanket or something?’

‘No—and stop hovering.’

Stella pulled the sarong off the chair. ‘I’m not hovering.’

‘Are too.’ She grabbed the proffered garment. ‘Thank you.’

‘Um … Before I go, I should tell you that Karina … um …’ She exchanged a look with Jake, who shook his head.

Emma darted a glance between the two of them. ‘What?’

Stella let out a strangled sound behind her hand. ‘Never mind.’

Squatting in front of Emma, Jake prodded her ankle and began issuing orders. ‘Get rid of the girls, Stella. And then you might like to kiss your fiancé goodnight and send him on his way.’

Hearing their cue to leave in that no-nonsense masculine tone, the girls scuttled out with muffled giggles.

Panic rose up Emma’s throat. ‘No, stay, Stell. Let Jake go.’ She glared at him, winding the sarong about her torso as high as possible under her arms. ‘I bet he has a million things to do.’

He met Emma’s eyes full-on for a few seconds, then studied her foot again. ‘Some ice would be good here, Stella, before you go.’

Seconds later Stella produced a pack of frozen peas from Emma’s fridge, handed it to Jake. ‘I feel responsible …’

‘Don’t,’ Emma said, tight-lipped. ‘If these guys hadn’t turned up everything would’ve been all right.’

‘So this guy’ll take care of it.’ Easing the improvised cold pack around Emma’s ankle, Jake waved her sister off. ‘You have guests to see off and a fiancé to farewell. You’ve called the girls a taxi, right?’

Stella nodded.

‘Okay, go to bed.’

‘If you’re sure …’ Stella’s eyes flicked between the two of them.

Emma couldn’t decide whether there was a glint of something playful in her sister’s baby blue eyes, but her voice was concerned enough when she said, ‘Phone up to the house if you need anything, Em.’

Then she disappeared outside with the rest of the gang, leaving Emma alone with Jake. The voices faded and the bustling atmosphere disappeared, leaving a tension-fraught anticipation in the gaping stillness. So still that Emma could hear the nearby surf pounding the beach. The sound of her heart beating at a million miles an hour. Jake had to be able to hear it as well. Fantastic. She groaned inwardly. ‘But you have to go too,’ she told him. ‘The limo …’

‘I can call him back. He’s booked and paid for till 3:00 a.m.’ His voice lowered a notch. ‘Unless you want me to stay longer?’

His head was bent over her foot so she couldn’t see his eyes. Just the top of his glossy dark head and those impressive shoulders making the fabric of his sexy black shirt strain at the seams. Before she could tell him no, not on his life, he straightened.

‘It doesn’t seem to be swollen. You sure that’s the only casualty?’

‘Yes.’ In his line of work he might see more than his fair quota of bare backsides, but he wasn’t going to see hers. She squeezed her still smarting butt and trembling thighs tighter together. ‘I can take care of myself.’

‘It’s not your cute
derrière
I’m interested in right now, Emma,’ he said, and she wondered if she’d voiced her thoughts.
And what did he mean ‘right now ‘?

Her cheeks flamed and she pushed the frozen pack of peas away. ‘I can walk.’ Holding the edges of the sarong together, she rose, ignoring the glint of pain in her ankle, and took three tentative steps. ‘See? Now I want to go to bed. I appreciate your concern, but I’d like it if you’d leave.’

He ignored her. ‘You should rest it. You need to be fit for Saturday.’ He picked her up again and moved swiftly across the room and past the privacy curtain. He set her on her bed, laid the peas against her ankle again, then placed his hands on either side of her lower legs. Looked into her eyes. ‘And, remember, as best man I’ve got the first dance with you.’

He’d come to her rescue and allowed her to keep her dignity. And now he sounded so genuinely caring that a wry half-smile tugged at her mouth.

‘With you to remind me I’m not likely to forget.’ She had to admit it felt good to be pampered for once in her life,
to have someone care enough to look out for her and not even remotely laugh at her embarrassment. She relaxed a little. ‘Thank you. I feel like a kid again. All I need is the warm milk and honey.’

‘Warm milk and honey?’

‘Mum’s panacea for everything. Rather, it used to be.’
Twenty years ago
.

Jake knew Emma had always been a keep-to-yourself kind of girl, whereas outgoing, fun-loving Stella had made friends easily. He knew, too, how Emma had changed when her father had died.

Leaning in, he watched her gorgeous eyes widen, smelled her soft feminine scent. ‘No milk and honey, but this—’ he touched his lips chastely to her forehead ‘—might help.’

He heard the barely-there hitch in her breath and drew back. His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered. Unglossed but luscious. So tempting to lean down and … He felt his blood pressure spike. His good deed damn well wasn’t helping
him
.

Don’t
. Her lips moved but no sound came out.

‘Why not?’ he murmured. ‘You kissed me the other night and I can’t return the favour?’

‘That was … different.’ Her voice was breathless and he got the impression she’d have pressed her rigid spine through the wall if she could.

‘Yeah,’ he said, recalling the firestorm which had engulfed them both for one unguarded moment. ‘It was.’