The Night Before Christian by Joy Avery Page B

Christian for guidance, but he
simply folded his arms across his chest and rocked back and forth on his heels
as if he couldn’t wait to hear her response.
    Luckily, before Emory
was forced to craft some plausible tale, Passion was summoned to the kitchen.
Emory blew out a sigh of relief.
    “Sit anywhere you’d
like,” Passion said, wobbling away.
    “Saved by the bell,”
Christian said under his breath.
    She elbowed him in the
ribs.
    Sliding into one of the
booths near the back of the restaurant, Emory immediately lowered her eyes to
the menu. “I’m starving.” She could feel Christian’s gaze settled on her, but
she refused to look up at him. He did that a lot, she’d noted, watched her as
if he were trying to decode her thoughts.
    Cautiously meeting his
gaze, a hint of nervousness rippled through her. What did he see when he eyed
her? Maybe he saw the woman who’d promised to always love him. Maybe he saw the
woman who’d promised to always be his. Maybe he saw the woman who’d promised
him a house full of babies. “ Girls as gorgeous as their mother ,” he’d
said. “ And boys as handsome as their father ,” she’d said in return.
    Maybe he didn’t see any
of that. Maybe he saw the woman who’d lied about it all. Except about loving
him forever , she told herself. That promise she’d kept. Too bad he would
never know it.
    “I have to ask you
something, Emory. It’s been eating at me. I know it shouldn’t because it
doesn’t matter, but…”
    Uh - oh .
Whatever it was, she was sure she wasn’t ready for it. “Okay.”
    Christian rested his
elbows on the table, intertwined his fingers, and eyed them briefly. Glancing
up at her, he said, “What your mother said about her being the reason you…” He
stopped briefly. “That wasn’t—”
    Her reply was swift. “No.”
Unable to get a read on his facial expression, Emory wasn’t sure if he believed
her or not.
    Finally, he interrupted
the awkwardness.
    “So, you’d really just
fallen out of love with me?”
    And made it that much
more uncomfortable.
    “Shit. Forget I said
that,” Christian said. “We were a long time ago. What’s the use of dwelling on
the past? We’ve both moved on, right?”
    You’ve moved on ,
she wanted to say. “Yes, we have. Just think, you’ll be married soon. Not many
people are so lucky to find their soul mate after only six months of dating.
You should consider yourself blessed.” God, did she sound bitter? Yes. Lowering
her eyes to the menu again, she said, “Their soup of the day is She-Crab. I
remember the first time I ever had She-Crab soup. We were—”
    She stopped abruptly,
the smile the memory had elicited sliding from her face. The first time she’d
had the soup was on a trip they’d taken to Kiawah Island in South Carolina.
It’d also been the first time they’d made love. The weekend had been so
beautiful, so perfect that it could have been mistaken for a dream. But it
hadn’t been a dream. She’d pinched herself numerous times to make sure.
    “Our trip to Kiawah Island,”
he said.
    Emory massaged the side
of her neck. “Yeah.”
    “That was a good
weekend. Great weekend, actually.”
    A cautious smile lifted
the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, it was. Well, except for me running over a
rock and crashing into the bushes.”
    Christian chuckled.
“You scared the hell out of me that day. I just knew you’d seriously injured
yourself.”
    “The only thing I
injured was my pride. And elbow.” She lifted her arm. “My battlefield wound.”
    She hadn’t expected
Christian to reach across the table and glide his index finger across her scar.
The sensation made her tingle all over. Withdrawing her arm, she said, “You
took good care of me.”
    He shrugged. “That’s
what you do when you love someone.”
    The words made her
heart thump a little harder, her breathing a little more swallow. Unable to
maintain their eye contact a second longer, she lowered her eyes back to the
menu.