Undeniably His Page 2

  I push back from the table and straighten my spine. Then I take in a deep breath. “I’m not a gold digger. You both know I make a good living on my own. Plus, I haven’t even touched my trust fund, and in case you two didn’t realize, I love a man who needs to shave. Oh, and remember, I drive a Jeep, so I’m not the uptight snooty bitch you two portray me as.”

  “We know you’re not a gold digger, hon. You just have certain standards. That’s all Ava meant. We would never put you down for your taste in men. I mean, it’s your business if you like a blond-haired, clean-shaven man who drives a Beemer.” Jane leans over and nudges me slightly.

  A soft voice interrupts our conversation. “Good afternoon, ladies. What can I get you to drink?”

  “It’s about time,” Jane snaps. She glares at the waitress like she’s ready to punch her in the face. Jane has one major flaw—a quick temper that makes her extremely confrontational and sometimes irrational. Roll all that up into a 125-pound redhead and sparks are gonna fly.

  “It’s really okay,” I tell the waitress, who happens to not be the chatterbox who waited on us earlier. It’s the lady from behind the bar. I squeeze Jane’s hand gently—maybe a little harder than gently—to try to tame the beast.

  Luna’s Wine Bar is our standing Friday afternoon meeting spot. We normally discuss upcoming weddings, throw around ideas, and put final touches on anything that needs it. So, I don’t want Jane messing it up for us.

  “I apologize for the wait,” she says. “Kara is my only waitress today, and she’s busy with another table, but I’d be more than happy to refill your glass”—she nods toward me then looks at Jane— “and get you started, ma’am.”

  “Sounds lovely.” My voice is a bit wobbly for fear of what Jane might say, but luckily, she smiles and politely orders her wine. I decline another glass—one is my limit on Friday afternoons—and Ava’s not drinking today, which isn’t uncommon for her when she’s dieting.

  “Thank you.” I let go of Jane’s hand and she slides it from the table into her lap.

  “For what?” She raises an eyebrow.

  “You know what.” I grin back at her, and then continue, “For not being the bitch I know you can be.”

  “I figured I’d give the chatty little waitress a break and not get her in trouble, considering Mr. I-need-to-shave-but-am-too-damn-sexy-with-scruff has a female companion who just joined him. Our talkative friend obviously doesn’t have a chance.” Jane throws her head back and laughs loudly.

  “At least not today,” Ava says as she looks up from her phone, causing Jane and me to direct our attention toward her. She drops her gaze back to her phone, but that doesn’t stop her lips from moving. “I mean, just because he sent her away today doesn’t mean he won’t fuck her tomorrow. You know how men are, especially when they look like he does. I’m sure he gets propositioned all the time, and let’s face it: men are weak.”

  “I swear you two make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks for enlightening me about all men,” I say. Now I don’t want to tell them about Andrew, and if I let my mind focus on what she just said, I may not want to ever see him again. Even so, I decide I’m not going to allow these two to destroy my potential happiness.

  “Shit, what time is it?” I reach for my purse underneath the table.

  “Four-thirty. Why?” Ava asks.

  “I need to go. I’m meeting Andrew for dinner at six.” I dig around in my purse, searching for my keys.

  “Please finish your story—at least the short version,” Jane begs.

  “Okay, but I’ve got to hurry.” I hang my purse on my shoulder with my keys secured in my hand. “So, like I was saying earlier, I had several potential matches, but I really felt like Andrew was the perfect match.” I let out a soft giggle. “We’ve had two dates, and if I make it home in time to get ready, tonight will be date number three.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve had two dates with the same guy and didn’t bother to tell us,” Jane points out.

  “I’m sorry, guys. I just wanted to be sure I could actually do it—you know, go out on a date with someone. At first, I was terrified, but after meeting Andrew in person and getting to know him a bit, I’m really glad I took the chance.” I take a deep breath and glance at Ava. “Thank you.”

  “For what? I didn’t do anything.”

  “You introduced me to the website, and thank you, Jane, for pushing me until I found the courage to pull myself out of the pathetic existence I called my life.”

  “Aw, we love you, Emmie, and we want you to be happy, to have the life you deserve. Just tell me a couple more things about this Andrew guy.” Jane’s face brightens.

  “Sure, but I’m going to be quick, because I really don’t want to be late.” I shift my weight in the chair. I don’t like to be late for anything, and they both know this.

  “What does he look like and what does he do? His job—what’s his job?” Jane asks.

  Two sets of eyes watch and wait.

  “He’s so handsome—I mean, much more attractive than Max.” God, I want to take back those words as soon as they leave my mouth, but it’s too late.

  Ava holds up a finger and shakes her head. “Don’t do that. Don’t ever compare another man to him. I mean it, Emmie. His name is no longer part of our vocabulary.”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have mentioned him, but let me finish. He has blond hair with bright blue eyes. He’s tall and looks like he’s in great shape. I can tell he works out, and he just turned thirty-one last month. Oh, and his family owns that flower shop chain, Fabulous Flowers. Andrew is the CFO.” I push my chair away from the table and stand.

  Ava is studying me intently from across the table. Her eyes are full of questions, or maybe snarky remarks. Either way, I don’t have time to finish this conversation.

  “I really have to go. I love you guys.” I bend down and give Jane a hug. Then I walk around the table and give Ava a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Just one more question before you go.” Jane’s gaze catches mine. “Have you fucked him yet?”

  “Damn, Jane. Do you have to be so loud?”

  “Yes, I do. Now tell me. Please say yes,” she pleads.

  I shake my head as I turn away.

  “Is that a no, or was it so bad you don’t want to talk about it?” Jane prods.

  I keep walking, doing my best to ignore her. It’s the only way to shut her up. Then I hear her bold voice again, but at least this time it’s directed toward somebody else.

  “Oh, there you are. I was worried you’d gotten exhausted from the effort of lifting that heavy wine bottle back there. Sheesh, remind me not to come here if I’m legitimately thirsty!” I look over my shoulder to see her fussing at the waitress.

  As I maneuver my way through the tables toward the exit, I scan the open room. A few people are spilling in from the outside, pulling up stools at the bar. Curiosity gets the best of me, so I look over toward the tables lining the wall, at the fourth one back from ours. He’s still there, but his face is turned away from me, so all I can see is his profile. Brown hair, not too short but not too long, scruffy jawline, strong nose with a small bump that indicates it was probably broken at some point. He’s wearing a white T-shirt with his arms folded and elbows resting on the table. A black leather jacket is hung on the back of the chair. The woman across from him says something and a tiny tug pulls at his lips. He’s got this whole sexy-rugged vibe going on. Ava and Jane were right—he’s hot and definitely worth the look, but not my type. I shake my head and smile as I think about Andrew, push open the door, and head home to get ready for my date.

  2

  Emmie

  “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” I yell as I repeatedly slam the palms of my hands against the steering wheel of this piece of shit I drive—a ten-year-old Jeep Wrangler.

  “Please don’t do this to me. Damn you, Max,” I whisper to myself. I’ve determined over the last year that everything that goes wrong in my life is my ex’s fault. It’
s his fault my dishwasher stopped working within six months after he left. It’s his fault that during a severe thunderstorm last spring, a two-hundred-year-old tree in the backyard was struck by lightning and flattened a large portion of the roof and destroyed my bedroom. Thank God, I wasn’t home. And now, my Jeep.

  “Shit!” I mumble before dropping my forehead and resting it on the steering wheel. “Think, think, think.” I take several deep breaths and squeeze my eyes closed. I just have to regroup and figure out how to make it through today.

  I slowly lift my head and open my eyes. My gaze drifts to the open garage and settles on the black Lexus LS 460. I quickly look away. I really love that car, but my love for the car is not enough to allow myself to crawl behind the wheel ever again—and that, too, is Max’s fault. I leave the thought of the car quickly and direct my attention to the center console of the Jeep. “I know it’s in here somewhere,” I mumble as I sift through the contents of the console, searching for… “Found it!”

  I grip the small business card in my hand and stare at the red inscription: Jim Matson’s Towing and Automotive Service. About five years ago, something went wrong with my Jeep. I can’t remember exactly what it was, but my dad took it to the shop for me. Max hated that when I had a problem I always called my dad for help, but I didn’t care, because I knew no matter what happened, I could always count on my father. I still can, and even though I haven’t called him for help this morning, he’s the one pointing me in the right direction by having left this business card in my car.

  I call Mr. Matson’s shop and request a tow truck ASAP. Lucky for me, his shop is only about ten minutes away. While I’m waiting, I shoot Ava a text.

  Me: Can you stop by my house on your way to the office and pick me up? PLEASE.

  Thankfully, only a few seconds pass before she replies.

  Ava: Leaving my house now. See you shortly.

  I conveniently leave out the part about us stopping by the automotive shop before going to the office, but since it’s still early, hopefully she’ll be okay with it.

  I grab my things, shove my phone into my purse, and push the door open before climbing out of my broken-down vehicle. My life was once so perfect: the perfect husband, the perfect marriage, the perfect house, the perfect friends, and the perfect car—until he fucked it all up. I glance at the Jeep once more before shaking my head. I really love my Jeep, and I hope there’s nothing seriously wrong with it. The loud rumble of a truck pulling into my driveway gives me a sudden sense of relief. My eyes dart in the direction of the red and yellow tow truck rolling to a stop.

  This guy—the tow truck driver—is out of his vehicle before I can reach him. Damn, how old is he? Looks young. Tall and lanky with a head full of dark wavy hair, he’s wearing sunglasses and has a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his lips. He looks too young to be smoking, and definitely too young to be responsible for my vehicle. I take in a deep breath as I make my way over to him.

  “Thank you.” I rake my eyes over his blue coveralls in search of a nametag, but he beats me to it.

  “Leo Matson,” he says as he steps around me and walks over to the Jeep. He lifts the hood and his hands move swiftly across the many small parts that make the vehicle work—or in my case, break down.

  “Thank you, Leo Matson, for getting here so quickly. I really appreciate it,” I tell him.

  “No problem, Miss…?” He glances over his shoulder, waiting on my reply.

  “Carmichael… Emmie Carmichael,” I say with a shaky voice. This entire situation is making me nervous—not Leo or the cigarette dangling from his lips, but the fact that I’m not accustomed to taking care of shit like this. Still, I’m doing it without the help of my brother or my dad. I could have called my dad, but then I would be standing here listening to him tell me all the things I’ve done wrong over the last couple of years and why I need to sell the house and drive the Lexus, and a lot more bullshit I’m not in the mood to listen to today. And my brother—that’s a call I’ll never make unless I absolutely have to. He’s beyond protective and truly thinks I can’t do anything for myself. So, instead, I stand in my driveway, putting all my trust in a kid named Leo.

  “I need you to fill out these forms,” Leo tells me after he closes the hood and lets the cigarette fall from his mouth. He gently puts out the small red tip with the toe of his boot before he walks over and shoves a clipboard into my left hand, a grease-covered pen into my right. “What’s going on with your vehicle, ma’am?”

  I’m holding the pen lightly and the clipboard away from my body because the last thing I want is motor oil or grease—or whatever the hell this is—on my white blouse. I continue completing the couple of pages of information, as I tell him, “It won’t start, not even once. It just makes a clicking noise. So, I finally gave up and called you.”

  As I finish filling out the last section of information, Ava pulls into the driveway. I give Leo the keys to my Jeep along with the paperwork and walk over to the passenger side of her SUV. She pushes open the door before I have a chance to grab the handle.

  “Hey, what’s going on with Old Faithful?” she asks before a soft laugh escapes her lips. Ava’s been begging me to get rid of my Jeep for a while now, but I won’t—I can’t. That Jeep has been a constant in my life for the last ten years, and I’m nowhere near ready to part with it.

  I set my bag in the back seat before turning around to find Leo standing in front of me.

  “I’m going to take your Jeep over to the shop. Do you want to follow me and talk to my brother about it now, or do you want him to call you later?”

  “Your brother,” I repeat, wondering if his brother is Jim Matson. Maybe he’s the one who owns the shop.

  “Yeah, he takes care of the business end of things,” he says as he gives me a copy of the paperwork I just completed. Then he steps back and places the pen in his pocket and the clipboard under his arm.

  “I’ll meet you at the shop,” I tell him, and then climb into the car with Ava.

  “When are you going to get rid of that piece of shit?” she asks as soon as I pull the door shut.

  “It’s not like I break down every week. Actually, this is the first time I’ve had a problem in years,” I tell her while securing my seat belt.

  “I’m always worried about you breaking down somewhere alone and not being able to reach anybody,” Ava explains.

  “I appreciate your concern, friend, but you know I don’t venture off too many places alone, especially after dark. And like I said a couple of minutes ago, I haven’t had any problems in a long time, so there’s no need for you to worry about me.” I force a smile even though I know everything she said is right. I need to get rid of the Jeep.

  “What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t look out for you?”

  “You’re a good friend—the best, which is why I’m gonna come clean about my plans.” I hesitate for a second before continuing. “I haven’t mentioned this to you or Jane or really anybody, but I’m planning to make a lot of changes in my life over the next few months.” I shift in my seat while glancing at her.

  I’ve been thinking about selling the Lexus, the Jeep, and the house for a while now. I haven’t said anything, because I know once I do, everybody will stay on my ass until I do it. What my family and friends don’t understand is that the thought of selling the last two things that belonged to Max and me together will be hard. I loved him for so long, and I knew it would be difficult to let it all go, but I have and I am. It’s finally my time to live my life to the fullest—date, buy a place of my own, and let go of the past.

  A slow smile spreads across her face before she says, “So, tell me about these changes.”

  “I don’t want to jinx myself by saying too much and then have something happen to screw everything up, but you’ll be happy to know I plan on selling the Jeep and the…” I suck in a deep breath and rest my head against the window. “The car.” I pause briefly. “I plan to sell the Lexus.” I release the b
reath I was holding and squeeze my eyes closed. I can’t believe I said it out loud, in front of someone.

  Max bought me that car when I caught him having an affair with Natalie the first time. After many, many promises that it was over and would never happen again, I finally let go of the anger and forgave him. Everybody deserves a second chance—at least, that’s what I felt in my heart at the time.

  I truly believed the affair was over. We decided to start trying to have a baby again, since it had been two years since my last miscarriage. I was happy, and I thought he was, too. He was different for a long time; it was like he really wanted us to work. He traveled less, paid more attention to me, and focused on our marriage. We did the counseling thing and my life was finally good again. It was during this time that he bought me the Lexus. It was an ‘I love you and I’m sorry I messed up’ bribe, but I liked to think of it as a gift. Then after he left, I couldn’t drive it anymore. The car represented all the bad that had caused my marriage to fall apart.

  “Oh my God, Emmie. You’re really gonna do it? You’re gonna sell the car?”

  “Yes, I’m selling the Jeep, the Lexus, and my house. I’m dating and I’m moving on. I’ve been stagnant for too long.”

  Ava giggles before saying, “Stagnant—not a word I hear often, but I agree you have been spending too much time working and not enough time focusing on yourself. You deserve to be happy, and I think moving forward with your life is a great idea.”

  She pulls her SUV into the automotive shop and stops. I unfasten my seat belt and reach for the door, but Ava stops me to pull me in for a quick hug.

  “I’m so proud of you, and I know Miles and your parents will be, too, but I’m not telling a soul. This is all you.” She releases me and I grab my bag before stepping out of her vehicle.

  I turn to look at her. “Thank you for not saying anything to anyone, especially Miles. You know how he is, and I can’t deal with him right now.”