Just like that he moved past me to meet his friends. Breathing a sigh of relief, I entered the bar and ordered a drink. I had to do better at avoiding this man.
This incredibly sexy man.
Owen
Dan and I sat at a corner of the bar as the guests trickled in one by one. We were both nursing a beer and munching on the most delicious pigs in a blanket that I'd ever tasted. I should have expected it, though. Emmy the Efficient would of course have found a chef that could make hot dogs and dough taste amazing.
I dunked my dog into the mustard dollop on my tiny plate. "All I'm saying is that your wedding planner is tightly wound."
Dan just laughed and took a long draw from his beer. "She's in charge of this entire event and it has to go off without a hitch. What did you expect?"
"I just expected her to be different."
What in the ever-loving fuck was I even talking about? I didn't know. I guess I'd simply expected a wedding planner to be more romantic and starry-eyed, instead of like General Patton.
"She's never been anything but wonderful to me and Lisa. Always nice and polite. Really caring about us getting the wedding that we want." He rubbed his chin, a shit-eating grin on his face. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that she wasn't terribly impressed by you. Did you take a one-two punch straight to the ego, my friend?"
"It's not like that," I replied quickly, although it kind of was. Emmy couldn't wait to get rid of me a few minutes ago. It was like I'd had the Black Plague. "I didn't ask her out if that's what you're thinking."
"I'm thinking you found her attractive - which she is - and the feeling wasn't returned."
She'd been cold as ice. I'd expected to see penguins waddling behind her.
"I'm interested in a hell of a lot more than a woman's looks. She has to be the whole package."
Dan wagged a finger at me. "That's your problem. You're looking for perfection."
"I am not looking for perfection," I objected. "Far from it. I just want a woman to want to be in a relationship. Miss Grant seems a bit...chilly and distant. Prickly. There's no romance in her soul. I doubt she's ever been in love."
I sounded like I knew her even though I'd only talked to her twice. What was I going on and on about?
"Maybe you can take her out into the moonlight and show her the error of her ways."
That was never going to happen.
"Are you kidding? She'd rip me limb from limb. That's a woman that doesn't gaze at stars or walk in the rain. All I'd get is a lecture about how we'd both catch pneumonia."
Emerson Grant simply wasn't my type. No worries. There were plenty of fish in the sea. Just none that looked like her.
"Come on, she's not that bad. Maybe she's seen too much to be all starry-eyed."
"Like what?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Grooms getting caught doing the maid of honor. Brides running off with the best man. Feuding couples. Gold diggers of either sex. Divorces before the ink is dry on the license. Giver her a break, man. Not all of your couples make it, either."
That was true. But...
Lisa sidled up to Dan and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Honey, don't you think Owen and Emerson would make a great couple?"
Oh shit. I wanted to punch Dan right then and there but then he'd have a black eye for his own damn wedding. Lisa would kill me.
"We would not–"
"Yes!" Lisa exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. She clapped her hands together and practically jumped up and down with glee. Because she was happy in love, she wanted everyone to be happy in love. Plus, she knew that I wanted to settle down eventually. "You two would look so cute together. You should ask her to dance. Or get her a drink."
Giving Dan a nasty look, I now had the task of getting out of this. "Definitely not. We're not each other's type."
Lisa waggled her eyebrows. "She's very attractive."
Incredibly. Too beautiful.
"And she's working. I don't think she'd appreciate me interrupting that."
Her mouth turned down, Lisa sighed loudly. "We just want you to be as happy as we are. If it weren't for you, Dan and I wouldn't have found each other."
That was true. They'd met through my dating website. They'd taken the personality and interests test and been matched with one another.
"I like to think that the two of you were destined for each other and would have met no matter what."
"Awww, that's so sweet." Lisa stood on her tiptoes and dropped a brief kiss on my cheek. "We need to find you a really nice woman."
The irony of a man who owned a dating site not being able to find the right woman wasn't lost on me. In fact, it was downright sad, and more than a little frustrating. But tonight wasn't about me.
"I'm really okay. Now how about we have a toast to the happy couple?"
Chapter 4
Emmy
Dan and Lisa were up to something and being none too sly about it.
Wearing matching smirks, they'd called me over and asked me several questions, all of which they already knew the answers to. Then they'd grabbed Owen from a group of people he was talking with and dragged him into the conversation as well.
Could they be... Were they matchmaking? Holy hell. I didn't get involved with the wedding party - ever - though I'd been sorely tempted when I'd first seen Owen and didn't know who he was. Now that I did I wasn't going down that road, especially as I'd found out we didn't have much in common.
Or anything at all. Conversation had been difficult at best.
"We had a question about the rented tuxes," Lisa said, after pulling me over for the third time. "After the wedding, should the men return them individually or is there a central location to drop them off?"
We'd gone over this but Dan and Lisa were such a sweet couple I couldn't get impatient with them. "All they have to do is hang them in the closet in their hotel room. The staff will take it from there."
"Perfect," Lisa exclaimed, a big smile on her face. "Did you hear that? It's one of my favorites. Emmy, do you like this song?"
A love ballad from the eighties. I listened to the oldies station quite a bit at home.
"I do. It's one of my favorites also."
Lisa linked her arm with Dan's. "Let's dance. Owen, you should ask Emmy to dance, too."
I'd been outmaneuvered. I hadn't been paying enough attention, so now I was being led onto the dance floor by Owen because to refuse would have been churlish and rude. Well, damn.
When he placed his hand at the small of my back, I took in a whiff of his body wash or aftershave. He smelled good. Like he'd just stepped out of the shower, which I loved. But it also gave me an image of how he might look doing just that... Naked and wet.
I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks as I ruthlessly pushed the picture out of my head.
Bad. Very bad, Emmy. Be a professional. Not a pervert.
Since this was really just a bar, the dance floor wasn't large, just about the size of a postage stamp. About a dozen couples crowded into the small space which meant that Owen and I were pressed together whether I liked it or not.
And I did like it. Dammit.
I could feel the length of his body against me, the warmth of his skin under my palms through the cotton of his button down shirt, his breath tickling my ear. He’d taken off his suit jacket at some point. I was hyper aware, possibly more than I ever had been in my life before this moment. Every rise and fall of his chest, every movement of his muscles, every flicker of his ridiculously long eyelashes.
Owen was all around me, taking up all the oxygen in the space. It made me anxious and fidgety and I accidentally stepped on his toes which then had me apologizing. The earth could open up and swallow me at any moment. That'd be fine and dandy.
"Sorry," I said again when another dancer bumped into me, sending me even closer to his muscled frame. Solid. I tried to put some space between us but there was literally no room. "It's really crowded."
His gaze went over my head to th
e French doors that led to the back patio. "I don't know about you but I could use some fresh air."
Air. That sounded like heaven. I needed to breathe. The attraction to this man was stronger than I'd realized. He was tempting. I'd need to be vigilant, never letting my guard down. First thing? Put some damn distance between us as soon as possible. A girl could only take so much. I wasn't made of stone.
I don't remember answering him in the affirmative but I must have, because now we were standing in a corner of the back patio overlooking the beach. The palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze and even from this distance I could hear the soft lap of the water against the sand.
"I never sleep better than when I'm near the ocean," Owen said, leaning an elbow on the railing, completely at ease while I was a freakin' mess. "It's so hypnotic, the push and pull of the tide."
He had a poetic, romantic side. One I didn't possess. Most of the time I didn't think about it much or care, but at moments like this one I wished that I pretty words, too.
But I didn't.
"It is beautiful here."
I was known for my efficiency, not my eloquence.
"How long have you been an event planner, Emmy?"
Now this was a subject I had the words for.
Owen
Most people loved talking about their work and I prayed that this would be the case. There had been tension between the two of us this evening, especially on the dance floor. Emmy had held herself so stiffly, she'd barely been able to move to the music.
And that was saying something because I danced like a department store mannequin.
"Right out of college, actually. Luckily, I was too young and dumb to know that you shouldn't open your open business with no money and only ambition, but it ended up working out. It's been ten years now and I've built a solid business with an excellent reputation."
She was a hard worker with goals. Maybe even a little bit of a dreamer.
"Yours was the only name that Dan and Lisa had for a wedding planner," I offered. "They never spoke about anyone else."
It was the truth.
Emmy's cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. "That's lovely. They're such a wonderful couple. Working with them has been fun. How about you, Owen? What do you do for a living?"
"I also own my own business."
"What kind of business?"
I really should be better at answering this question. I'd done it a million times but it never seemed to get any easier. I should have been prepared. I'd asked her about her profession, so of course she was going to ask about mine.
"I own a dating website."
She turned to look up at me, her brows furrowed. "A dating website," she echoed. "I'm not sure I follow you."
"Symphonic," I replied, swallowing a sigh. Clearly, she was not impressed. "It's called Symphonic. I use a researched and tested set of questions to find the perfect match for a client. I developed it myself."
"I've heard of it," she replied, her gaze back on the deserted beach. "I've seen the commercials."
Definitely not impressed.
"I thought you were a doctor," she finally said when I didn't say anything right away.
Not this again. My own family didn't think I was a real doctor.
"I am a doctor. I have a PhD in psychology. I've worked in research and also had a private practice for a few years. I've written three books about relationships."
"But your dream was to run a dating site?"
Emerson Grant made it sound like I was cooking meth in my kitchen.
"My dream as a researcher was to figure out how to help people find true love. I set out to learn as much about the emotion as I possibly could. How do people fall in love? Why do they fall in love or out of it, for that matter? Can love truly last a lifetime? I'd seen so many people in my private practice in real pain. People want to be in love. They need to be in love. It's what fulfills us in the end when the world lets us down."
Okay, maybe I'd gone a little far there but I truly believed it. It was a subject I was passionate about and I'd spent years studying love and people.
"I'm not sure people actually need to be in love," Emmy replied, clearing her throat. "It's not like water or air. They may want love but they don't need it."
"I beg to differ. I think that they do. It may not be like air and water but I think the human soul craves connections."
"You're a romantic."
She didn't make it sound like a positive trait.
"I am," I agreed readily. "And you're not, I take it?"
Leaning against the railing, a breeze caught a few strands of her hair and they clung to her cheek. I had to resist the urge to smooth them back. From what I was learning about this female, she wasn't for me. No matter how beautiful she was.
"I would consider myself practical. Down to earth. Rational."
Interesting.
"You don't think a person can be both practical and romantic at the same time? They're mutually exclusive?"
Her laugh was rich and warm. "I think that they are. You don't?"
"I think I can be romantic about love and practical about other things. I don't run around in the rain and catch pneumonia. I don't spend money I don't have. I don't set goals and then don't work toward them so yes, I do think a person can be both."
"I would guess that you're more practical than you realize."
That statement made me smile. "You think I believe that I'm romantic but I'm not really?"
"Well...yes."
"What is your definition of a romantic, Emmy?"
She turned, her brows pulled down in thought. "Byron was a romantic. Van Gough was a romantic."
"So if I cut off my ear and write poetry then I'm romantic?"
"That's not what I meant."
"I think I get what you're saying. You think that if someone is romantic then they're that way in their life completely."
Sighing, Emmy checked her watch. "If you want to consider yourself romantic, Owen, then you most certainly can. I wouldn't think my opinion one way or another would sway your thoughts."
"They won't." But I couldn't help but poke the bear a bit. Emmy Grant was intelligent and professional but a tad prickly. "I just find it strange that you plan weddings for a living but you don't seem all that into love and romance."
"I plan events for a living. Some of them just happen to be weddings. And I think love and romance are just wonderful." She looked up at me and her eyes narrowed. "Are you saying you think I'm cynical?"
A little.
"I don't think it matters what I think," I returned, echoing her own words. "It's just a surprise that you said that love was a want and not a need," I replied, referring back to our earlier conversation. "I would imagine you see people desperately in love every day."
"I do but that doesn't mean that love is a need. People don't die from not having love."
"I disagree. Haven't you ever heard of someone dying from a broken heart?"
"Yes, but I'm sure there's a perfectly rational medical reason for their passing. It's not really a broken heart."
"There are well documented cases of people dying from a broken heart when nothing else is medically wrong with them."
"I haven't really done any research on this subject so I'll have to take your word for it."
"I have done my research, I assure you. I've helped people find the love of their lives, including Dan and Lisa. Sadly, I haven't been as lucky. Not yet, anyway. But I will be. The magic of love is not something I want to miss out on."
"Magic," she repeated as if trying on the word for size. "The magic of love?"
I understood now.
"You don't think love is magic," I said flatly. "You don't believe in it."
Emerson Grant had never been in love.
"Let's just agree to disagree. I think love is wonderful but it's not some magic cure-all."
"You don't want to find your soulmate?"
I wanted to find mine and I didn't think I was less masculi
ne because of it.
"I'm not sure I believe in the concept of soulmates. That one perfect person on the planet that completes you in a way that no one else can."
"I'm not sure that there's only one person," I explained. "I'd like to think that there are many but the odds are stacked against us finding them."
"And that's where your dating app comes in?"
Unlike most people, Emmy wouldn't be begging me to use my dating site to help her find a match. She made it sound a little sordid and dirty.
"It does. I help people find prospective matches with persons they may never have looked twice at in a bar, for example."
"By taking a compatibility test?"
"It's more than that but it's okay if you want to characterize it that way. Yes, they take a test about themselves and what's important to them. I would think someone as practical and down to earth as yourself would like the idea of finding a mate in such an efficient and straightforward manner."
I was probably going to hell for that statement.
Her lips tightened. "I guess I'm just not a big fan of dating apps."
Or their CEOs.
"Fair enough. It's not everyone's cup of tea."
Glancing over her shoulder to the French doors that led inside, she tucked her tiny purse under her arm. "Thank you for the fresh air but I really do need to check on the wait staff and the appetizer buffet. I hope you have a nice evening, Owen."
With that, she turned on her heel and marched back into the bar, leaving me standing on the patio. So much for Lisa and Dan's matchmaking skills. Emmy Grant might be beautiful but she didn't think much of me. Which left me to wonder...
If she took my Symphonic test, just what kind of man would she be matched with?
Chapter 5
Emmy
"They call him Dr. Love," Shelby said in that disapproving tone she was so known for. "Dr. Owen Campbell is one of the most preeminent researchers in the field of human relationships. In. The. World. He's authored three textbooks and I'm told he's working on a non-academic book for the masses. He's not a hack, Emmy. He's considered to be brilliant in his field. If he wrote a forward for my book, I would think I'd died and gone to heaven."
Touch Him (ManTrap Book 3) Page 3
