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Did I just say that? Emma thought and waited expectantly, her heart pounding so loudly she worried he might hear it.
He squinted and considered her carefully. “Please tell me that’s not the champagne talking.”
“You mean the cider you slipped me with dinner instead?” she said with an arch of a brow.
A chagrined smirk erupted on his lips. The lips she so wanted against hers.
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” he admitted and brushed back a few wayward strands of her hair that had worked free of the braid and floral headpiece at the crown of her head.
“I’m not that drunk,” she shot back.
“Just half-drunk? Maybe I should wait until you’re full sober for that kiss,” he said and raised her hand to brush a tender kiss across her knuckles.
She hated that he was right. “Maybe,” was all she could muster with a shrug and looked away from him.
The heat of his breath spilled across the side of her face a second before he whispered a kiss across the sensitive skin there. A tease of what she could expect when they finally did whatever it was they were destined to do.
But as much as she wanted tonight to lead to more, a part of her worried what that more might be and if she was truly ready for it. Which had her reaching for another glass of champagne as it came by rather than pushing it away. As she met Carlo’s gaze over the rim of the glass, she almost dared him to stop her, but he raised his own glass and tapped it to hers.
She was about to take a sip when the band launched into a fast-paced salsa piece and Carlo rose and offered his hand to her.
“Me?” she squeaked and shot a quick look at the dance floor where the newlyweds and several of Connie’s family were expertly moving to the beat.
“You,” Carlo confirmed and wiggled his fingers in invitation.
Tracy nudged her with her elbow. “Go. It’s not as hard as it looks.”
Peering at the dancers, she thought it looked really hard and she wasn’t much of a dancer as she’d proven the night at the China Latino restaurant. But with Carlo waiting there, his gaze expectant, she couldn’t refuse.
She slipped her hand into his and shot to her feet. At the edge of the dance floor, he took hold of her hands, leaned close and whispered, “It’s just an easy four/four beat.”
Maybe it was only she couldn’t seem to think straight much less count out the beats with him so close. All she could think about was the feel of his calloused hand in hers and at her waist, guiding her. Strong hands, but so gentle at the same time. The smell of him enveloped her, something light and citrusy.
As he stepped forward on the one beat, she stomped on his foot and mumbled an apology. He smiled and said, “Relax.”
She found herself doing just the opposite, intently looking down at their feet and trying to count out the one-two-three and then rest beat in her head. As she trod on his foot again, she mumbled a curse.
“Meu amor, look up. At me. You can do this,” he urged, the tone of his voice soft and soothing.
Emma met his gaze and forced a smile. She wanted to relax and give herself over to the music but couldn’t when she was so hyper aware of everything about him. From the flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes to the slight dimple in his right cheek as he smiled to the smooth way he moved his hips in time to the salsa beat. Everything about him was perfect, but as she mangled his foot once again, she realized she wasn’t.
Disappointment slammed into her and in the back of her brain, she heard her father’s condemning voice telling her she wasn’t good enough. That she could never do anything right. Luckily the song ended at that moment with a loud crashing beat of the drums and she was able to make her escape, not that Carlo wasn’t wise enough to see her upset.
“It’s okay, Em. You just need to trust your partner,” he said and rubbed her back as they sat at their table once again.
She wanted to trust him about so much more than a salsa dance, but worried that maybe she never could and that if she did, she’d disappoint him anyway. Which had her reaching for her glass of champagne. She sipped the bubbly. Had a second and third glass but the liquor did nothing to improve her mood. It didn’t stop her from having more until her head was whirling and she cursed herself for not using better judgment. Especially as she rose to join everyone as they walked out to the front of the building where a limo waited to whisk Connie and Jonathan to a private jet waiting to fly them to a week’s honeymoon at a private tropical isle.
She wobbled unsteadily and Carlo was immediately there, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as her newlywed friends waved to everyone and climbed into the car. As they walked back in, her high heeled shoes slipped on the snowy ground, but Carlo supported her. With the ocean nearby, snow rarely held on for long unless it was a major snowfall. But as she looked up at the night sky, the snow was still coming down.
“So much for your radar and only flurries. It’s going to be a big one,” she said.
“So much for science,” he said as he walked her back inside and to the dais. “Set yourself here while I see how we’re doing.”
Since her head was whirling, she didn’t argue and plopped down beside Tracy who to her chagrin was way more sober. “Why did I do this?” she murmured and massaged her temples.
“Because you’re afraid of what might have happened so now you’re going to take my advice,” Tracy said and took hold of Emma’s hands.
Maggie came over and sat on her other side. Laid a hand on her thigh and said, “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just fine,” she said although she really wasn’t.
“Maybe it’s time we took you home,” Maggie said, but Tracy held her hand up to silence her friend.
“Carlo can take her home. It’s time for you and Owen to go home and I’m going back to my room at the inn,” Tracy said.
“No way. Come on, Emma. We’ll take you home,” Maggie said, but Emma shook her head.
“I’m okay. Besides, I’m the wedding planner, remember? I have to make sure Carlo and his people don’t need my help,” she reminded her friend, not that she could be much help in the condition she was in. But she had to try.
Maggie and Tracy looked at one another, obviously doubtful of her claim, but then they relented.
“You can go, Mags. I’ll stay with Emma until Carlo comes back,” Tracy said, but she didn’t have long to wait since a few minutes later, Carlo returned to the dais.
“Everything okay?” Emma asked.
“Totally under control. My brothers have things running smoothly and any breakdown we don’t finish tonight on account of the snow can be done in the morning,” he said and rubbed her shoulder in reassurance.
She looked up him. “Are you sure?”
He smiled supportively. “Never more sure. Let me take you home.”
She relented and rose slowly, mindful of every action and step to try and convince everyone that she was okay. Only she wasn’t on so many levels.
Maggie and Tracy walked with her to the doors leading to the parking lot where they’d left their cars earlier that day in anticipation of the end of the night. Owen joined them by the door and hugged Maggie to him.
“Ready?” Owen asked and kissed his wife’s temple.
Maggie risked a quick glance at Emma who nodded. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said and hugged the couple.
“We’ll drive you to the inn,” Owen said to Tracy and her friends were soon on their way, leaving her with Carlo.
“I’ll take you home,” he said and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Emma said and leaned into him for support. Together they slogged through the snow that had started to accumulate in the hour or so while the guests had been partaking of the dessert table and hot beverages after Connie and Jonathan had left. More than once her shoes slipped on a wet patch, but luckily Carlo was there. He bundled her into his van and in no time they were on their way to her house which was only a few blocks away. In truth, had the weather been better, she might have walked the short distance to clear her head, but the quickly falling snow had made that impossible.
Carlo pulled his van into her driveway and she said, “Thank you. I appreciate you driving me back.”
“I’ll see you in,” he said, but she waved off his offer.
“No need. I’m okay.” Although she was a little woozy, the effects of the champagne had started to wear off.
“I’ll see you in, Emma. Don’t argue with me,” he said and before she could protest again, he’d charged out of the car and walked around to open her door. He offered his assistance and seeing the glower on his face, she didn’t argue.
She took hold of his hand and stepped out of the vehicle. The ground was slick beneath her feet and he once again provided stability until they were comfortably inside the warmth of her cottage. As she turned to face him, her wet soles slid awkwardly on her wooden floor, but his powerful arms were around her, keeping her upright.
“Let’s get you settled,” he said and once again she didn’t fight with him maybe because a big part of her wanted him to stay, even if she was still unsure of whether it made sense to move their relationship to the next level. He walked her to her bedroom and over to the bed. Whirling on one foot, he presented his broad back to her to give her a chance at modesty, and said, “Get tucked in and I’ll go.”
She stared at him as he stood there, rocking back and forth on his heels, obviously uneasy. But was his unease about staying or going? she wondered because it mirrored her own emotions.
“What if I don’t want you to go?” she said, her voice unsteady.
***
CARLO STOOD STOCK STILL, processing her words over and over. How many times had he wished for a moment quite like this and yet, not like this with her not really herself.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said as he heard the rustle of fabric that warned that she was getting undressed. To keep from turning to look at her, he focused on the wall in front of him with its feminine wallpaper of pink roses in a stripe pattern.
“You said to trust you. I do,” she said, her words still a little slurry and accompanied by yet more rustling. The bedspread he hoped as he peered over his shoulder and found her with the covers tucked up to her chin, her arms and shoulders bare.
His cock twitched and tightened at the thought of her all bare beneath the bedspread.
“I should go,” he said, but her words came again, blurred with sleep this time.
“Please stay.”
“I warned you before, Emma. I’m not a saint,” he replied and waited for her response, but all that followed was a long inhale and a soft snore.
He turned to find her fast asleep, one hand tucked up to her cheek and the other spread out on the empty space beside her, as if she was reaching for something. Someone. Him.
His brain told him to go. That nothing good could come of his staying.
But his heart . . . the heart that had longed for so long to be with her made up thousands of excuses for why he should remain in the blink of an eye. Everything from what could happen if she woke up ill to her falling out of bed and cracking her head open. And with all those dire scenarios running through his head, he gave in to his heart’s desire.
He walked over to a wing chair placed invitingly before a gas fireplace in her bedroom. The remote for the fireplace was on a small table by the chair. There was a hint of damp and chill in the air thanks to the snowy night and since he planned on sleeping above the covers as a safety precaution, he snapped on the fireplace.
The warmth was instantaneous and welcome as he slipped off his shoes, socks, suit, and shirt. The heat warmed him as he stood there in his briefs and carefully folded his shirt and pants, and hung his suit jacket over the chair, delaying. Hesitating as he considered what might come of his decision not to leave.
But with the decision made, he returned to the bed and gently picked up the arm flung out over the empty space beside her, careful not to wake her. He slipped into that space and as soon as he did, she shifted closer and flung her arm back over him and nestled her head on his shoulder.
It was torture being so close to the person he wanted most and wasn’t sure it made sense to have. But as the warmth of the fireplace and her body chased away the chill, he closed his eyes and let himself believe that it wasn’t all a big mistake. That come the morning and the light of day, everything would be as it should and he and Emma . . .
He paused there, not wanting to jinx himself with the thought. Whatever was meant to be would be and with that he wrapped an arm around her to keep her close and let himself dream.
