"I would hope so. I would think that I would know if I was in love, Shel."
I was definitely in lust though, and deep-deep like.
She sighed and shook her head. "Emmy, my friend, you are the last person that would know if you were in love. For all the weddings you've planned, the anniversaries, and the christenings you don't know shit about love, and most especially your own feelings. Love is going to have to hit you over the head and drag you around before you recognize that it has you."
"I didn't realize that you thought I was such a twit," I replied hotly, blowing out a disgusted breath. "Does Mia and Ashley share your low opinion of me or is it just you?"
"I've never discussed it with them. You'll have to ask them for yourself."
I made a mental note to do just that. Shit, I wasn't stupid.
"Dammit, Shel," I said out loud. "I'm not an imbecile."
"You're not," she agreed. "In fact, you're one of the smartest people I know."
That didn't make any sense.
"If I'm so smart then why wouldn't I know that I'm in love? Are you deliberately trying to confuse me?"
"Not at all. What I'm saying is that intelligence isn't the same as romantic intelligence."
"Romantic intelligence," I parroted. "What in the ever-loving fuck is that? Is this something you made up for your book?"
"It's a thing," Shelby replied defensively. "I may have coined the term but that doesn't make it any less real. You can know everything there is to know about the Civil War and still not have the introspection to know when a man is right or wrong for you. Or for example, that you're in love."
I already knew the answer but I asked the question anyway.
"I suppose there's a quiz in your book that would tell me if I'm in love?"
What was it with Owen, Shelby, and their tests?
Frowning, she shook her head. "Um, no. There's a chapter about it, though. That must be one of the ones you skipped over."
"Because I would know if I was in love."
Shelby was passing car after car, her foot firmly on the gas pedal. The scenery was almost a complete blur as it zipped by. At this rate, she was going to get a speeding ticket.
"Just for informational purposes, when was the last time you were in love, Em?"
Hmmm...I'd just ended a relationship with Mark, a lovely professor from the university. He was a great guy but I'd never loved him. Before that was James...a detective with the local police. We'd dated awhile but we'd never hit our stride. So he was also a no. Then there was–
"If it takes you this long to answer then it's been a damn long while."
"It has been," I easily agreed. "I don't go around falling in love easily. It takes time and a truly terrific guy."
"Time? Why does it take time?"
It was my turn to sigh heavily. "We've been through this. I need to get to know a man before I can say that I love him. That doesn't happen overnight."
"Okay, I won't argue that point with you...although I could. Let's talk about you and Owen."
How much longer was this drive? I checked my watched and groaned silently. We still had two hours to go and I was trapped in this car with a trained therapist. There was no escape.
"Fine, let's talk about me and Owen. Want do you want to know?"
"Now be honest. Do you think about him all the time?"
Did I? I had to admit that I did.
"Quite a bit. Probably more than I should but to be fair you're the one that brought him up when we got in the car."
"Were you already thinking about him while you were waiting for me to pick you up? Did you think about him during your flight?"
Fuck.
"Yes."
"Do you feel happy? A feeling of energy and vibrancy?"
Vibrancy? Christ on a crutch.
"I guess you could say I've had a lot of energy. We didn't get much sleep this weekend but I managed fine."
In fact, I'd glowed but I wasn't about to tell Shelby that.
"Has your appetite changed? Diminished or grown?"
There were times I couldn't stand Shelby. This was one of them.
"I've been eating like a horse but I would think that would be normal. I was very...active over the weekend."
"And the sex was amazing?"
Oh my heavens.
"Yes."
"Are you thinking of you two as a couple? Are you thinking about the future with him in it? Even if it's something as simple as next Friday night. Do you assume that you'll be with him?"
We hadn't talked about our next date but...
"Yes. Is the interrogation over, Officer?"
"One more question. How does he take his coffee?"
"Two sugars. No cream."
"Okay, I lied. One more question. You dated Mark for a couple of months. How did he take his coffee?"
I had no fucking idea.
"I forgot," I replied with a careless shrug. "That was a long time ago."
Shelby laughed as she whipped around a slow car in the left lane. Jesus frog, it was like riding with a racecar driver.
"You and Mark broke up two weeks ago. That doesn't qualify as a long time ago. You have all the signs, Em. I think you might be in love."
No. Just...no.
"It's way too soon to be saying that," I protested. "We just met last week. It's been less than a week."
"Sometimes you just know. You're really into it, far more than any guy in recent memory. Can't you even admit that you might be falling in love with him?"
No.
"It's the first rush of infatuation. You know...sex and all that stuff."
"It could be, or it could be love. You might want to think about it, really dig deep into your emotions. You might be surprised."
I wasn't in love, and all that digging sounded like no fun at all.
"If I say that I'll think about it, can we change the subject?"
"We can change it, no strings attached. I'm just trying to help you but this is really all up to you, Em. If you want me to shut up, all you had to do is say so."
"Shut up."
"Then I will." There was a long pause before she spoke again. "I don't suppose you want to talk about your childhood or how you feel about your mother?"
Absolutely not.
"Just drive, Shel. I'm not here for a therapy session. Why don't we talk about your wedding?"
That was all it took. Shelby was off and running with the topic as her future in-laws were being a pain in the ass about the guest list. Mission accomplished. Now we were concentrating on her. Not me.
Me...who was not in love in the least. Right?
Chapter 17
Owen
Unlocking the front door, I placed my suitcase in the foyer and then stepped aside to let my assistant into the house. Carly had picked me up from the airport in Chicago and I'd promised her a glass of wine when we arrived. She was really more like the sister that I'd never had than an assistant. She never held back an opinion, and often times I felt like I worked for her, not the other way around.
"Damn, it's cold out there," I said, shutting the door firmly against the frigid temperatures outside. I already missed the tropical weather in the Caribbean. It was always good to come back from a trip and sleep in your own bed but this time I wasn't looking forward to it. Emmy wouldn't be there. "Come in and get warm. Not that it will be much warmer in here than it was out there. I turned down the thermostat before I left."
"And I turned it up this morning," Carly laughed, shedding her coat and draping it over a kitchen chair. "I also stopped at the grocery store to make sure you had food to make breakfast tomorrow."
"You're an amazingly efficient woman."
Almost as efficient as Emmy.
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Besides, if I hadn't you would have been complaining tomorrow about how you didn't have milk for your coffee."
"I don't take milk in my coffee."
"I'm sure you'll need fresh milk for something.
Now how about that wine?"
I poured us each a glass and we settled on the couch in front of the gas fireplace. The flames danced cheerily and my tired body began to relax. It had been a long day of travel. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since the Miami airport.
"Do you want to order a pizza? Or is Jake expecting you home for dinner?"
Carly took a sip of her cabernet. "Jake and the kids already had dinner. Baked ziti that I prepared this morning. All my husband had to do was heat it up in the oven. Although knowing him, he decided to take them all for burgers. Can we get extra cheese?"
Carly and Jake had been married for almost ten years and had two kids under the age of eight which meant that they were tired a good deal of the time.
"We absolutely can," I replied, picking up my phone to order. "Are you sure Jake will be okay with this?"
"Jake is fine but if you're worried, I'll send him another text. I already let him know that we were here."
"I wouldn't want to get you in trouble."
"Every now and then Mom gets a night off. Picking you up at the airport and sharing a pizza is almost a vacation for me these days."
"You love it."
"I do but the quiet here is just heaven."
Quickly I ordered the pizza - a large with sausage and extra cheese - before retrieving the remote and flipping through the channels.
"How about this cooking show?"
Carly reached for the remote and tossed it against the sofa cushions. "How about you tell me what's going on? And don't lie to me and say you don't know what I mean because you most certainly do know what I mean."
Did I mention that she can read me like a book?
"I really don't know what you mean. Want to give me a hint?"
Carly's brows shot up. "Tell me about her."
Ah. I understood now. I'd mentioned to Carly in one of our business calls that I'd met a woman. It had been in passing when she'd asked me how I was killing time since the wedding was called off.
"Her has a name. It's Emerson Grant but everyone calls her Emmy. What do you want to know? Do I need a good lawyer?"
"Ha ha. Very funny. No, you don't need a lawyer unless you're planning to lie to me. You met her on the island?"
"I did, and no, I'm not planning to lie."
"Was she a tourist there? Part of the wedding party?"
"She was the event planner. She lives here in Arborville."
Carly nodded and smoothed down the hem of her sweater. "Okay, her name is Emmy and she's an event planner. What else do you know about her?"
"I know lots of things. Why is this so important to you? You rarely ask me about the women I date."
"Because usually they don't mean anything. But this one does. I can tell by the way you said her name. You face turned all dreamy and distant." Carly sighed and took another sip of wine. "You're in love."
She didn't phrase it as a question. A simple statement but it was loaded with meaning.
"You sound very sure."
"I am. So I want to know more about this woman that turned your head in one measly weekend. She must really be something to do that."
Emmy was that and more.
"I think you'd really like Emmy if you met her. She's smart, funny, down to earth, and well spoken. She owns her own event planning business so you know she's hardworking. Lisa and Dan adore her and she was the only one they wanted to do their wedding."
Images of Emmy when she was pulling the last-minute ceremony together filled my head. She'd been so sweet to Dan and Lisa, not caring if she contracted the bubonic plague. She'd simply wanted to make their wedding as special as possible under the circumstances.
"And you love her."
Did I? It was a good question at this juncture of the relationship. I'd asked it myself a few times last night and again this morning when I'd practically had to wrench myself out of her arms so we could catch our flight. I hadn't seen her for several hours and already I missed her like crazy.
"Let's just say that I'm falling in that direction."
"So it's not terminal yet?"
"Would it be a problem if I was in love?" I asked Carly. "I'm a grown man and I have pretty decent taste in women. She's not a gold digger, if that's what you're thinking."
As an academic, I'd never been flush with cash until the website became popular. In fact, I'd only recently paid off my student loans. Now I had an excellent income but I'd been sensitive to females that might only be attracted to me financially.
"I just don't want you to get hurt." She leaned forward and looked me directly in the eye. "Is she in love, too?"
The million-dollar question. I had no idea.
"I haven't asked her and she hasn't said," I replied honestly. "I'm sure we'll get around to discussing it before long."
As cautious as Emmy had lived her life, she wasn't going to declare her love for me - or anyone - after one weekend. It simply wasn't her style. I'd had a major victory just getting her to admit that our romance wasn't a short-term vacation thing. It was real and we needed to give it a chance.
"In the meantime, I want to meet this paragon of virtue. Invite her to Sunday brunch so we can check her out."
"Why on earth would I subject her to your interrogation methods? You're worse than the CIA. I remember what you did to Jake's sister's boyfriend last year."
Carly had made that poor man's life a misery for an entire meal. Jake's sister never heard from him again. For all we knew, he'd changed his name and left the country. All because Carly had asked him about his political affiliations.
"I'd be nice," Carly said, her tone indignant. "Are you afraid to find out something you don't like?"
"No."
"Then invite her for brunch. It will all be fine."
"Promise me." I shook my finger at Carly. "Promise me you won't go checking her out on the internet or asking her how much money she makes. I mean it, Carly."
"I promise." She stuck out her tongue. "You need to have a little faith in me."
"I'll invite her but I can't promise that she'll be able to go. She works almost every weekend."
"We can make it dinner during the week."
How could I possibly sell this invitation to Emmy?
Hey Emmy, how about having an awkward meal with my assistant and her family while they try to find out if you've killed a man and left him for dead? It's just that they're like family to me.
It was no way to make a woman fall in love with you.
Emmy
I'd unpacked my suitcase and thrown the laundry into the washer, taken a long hot bath, and put on my favorite flannel pajamas with the ratty hem. Now I was lying on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and Shelby's book, determined to finish it once and for all.
It wasn't that it wasn't interesting and entertaining...it was. It's just that it was hard for me to sit still for too long and read anything. But since I'd consented to be in a real actual relationship with Owen - and I really truly liked him a whole lot - I'd figured that I'd better bone up on what that meant.
Owen wasn't like the other men that I'd dated in the past. He didn't appear to be trying to fool me into doing something I wouldn't normally do - loan him money, have a threesome with his ex, wait on him hand and foot, marry him so he could get a green card.
Yes, all actual dating situations I'd been in. Sad, I know.
He hadn't rushed me into bed, either. If anything, I'd pushed the subject. He genuinely seemed to want to explore our feelings for one another and it was kind of freaking me out. It had been a long time since I'd dated a guy who just...cared about me. Who would that have been?
Trent, maybe? I'd dated him from twenty-eight to thirty. He'd told me he loved me and even talked about marriage. Then he'd become frustrated with the time my business took away from us and he'd pushed me to offload some of the work onto my employees. I'd taken that advice, restoring some well-needed work life balance, but I'd also taken a good look at Trent. He wasn't a huge cheerl
eader for my career and at one point had even suggested that I might give it up if we had children. I'd ended the relationship after two years. We simply hadn't had the same goals for the future. Last I heard, Trent had married a lovely pediatric nurse.
After Trent, and turning thirty, I'd found the pool of eligible males rather shallow and small. I'd dated a slew of men that I could only describe as not for me. Eventually I'd come to the conclusion that while men were nice in small doses, a steady diet of them could make a girl sick to her stomach.
Seeing the couples that came through my event planning business didn't help the situation, either. Some of them were so sweet and clearly in love and some of them were a nightmare. There were times that the bride and groom could barely stand to be in the same room.
So I guess you could say that I'm cynical as hell.
Shelby's book was the opposite of that. Caution mixed with optimism was how I would describe her advice.
Had I become the female and thirtysomething equivalent of an old man yelling at kids to get off his lawn? I wasn't enjoying the mirror that I was looking into. I didn't want to think I was the type of person that would pass up a great guy because I assumed that there was something wrong with him.
What was wrong with Owen? I hate myself for even asking the question but I had to admit that it was weighing on my mind. He couldn't possibly be this wonderful, right? He had to have flaws. The big question was, were they flaws that I could live with?
Figuratively speaking, of course. I wasn't thinking about us living together this early in the relationship. Slow and steady. That was my motto. No need to rush. If it was mean to be, we'd get there in the end.
Except that Shelby's book, to my surprise, wasn't a huge proponent of taking the slow lane. There was a great deal about how love made everything different and better and how it added to your life. The advice was basically to keep your head on, don't rush in too fast, until - and this was the big part - your guy was all in. And when that happened, it was off to the races.
There was even a chapter about how to know when it's love. As if I wouldn't know. I would know for sure. Who are these poor souls walking around not knowing if they’re in love or not? Do they bump into walls, too?
Touch Him (ManTrap Book 3) Page 12
