Runaway Bride’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #1)

22. Stella

22

stella

Things I didn’t realize until yesterday—Emmett and I never exchanged phone numbers in Florida.

I don’t know how that happened. I guess we never needed to? We were just always…there. We showed up at times we agreed on. He’d pop over if he wanted to ask me something. I’d knock on his door if I didn’t want to be alone. Looking back, it was pretty nice. But yesterday, when I needed a way to tell him that, “Surprise! We’re going to be coworkers!”, it was very inconvenient.

Normally if I had this problem, I’d pin on my white girl FBI badge and go digging down the rabbit holes of the internet to find some way to get in touch with him. However, that required programs I had access to at the law firm, especially since Emmett is nowhere to be found on social media. My only choice would’ve been to ask Simon for his phone number, which wasn’t an option. I could just hear my question now…

Hey Simon! Can I get Emmett’s phone number because I need to let him know that we’re going to be working together. Why does he need to know? Funny you should ask. And totally not a big deal or anything. We just had sex one or fifty-six times and I’ve dreamed about him every night since I’ve returned from Florida. Now, I don’t know if he’s been thinking about me like that, which he probably isn’t, but I just wanted to give him a heads up so he isn’t caught off guard.

Yeah…that wasn’t going to happen.

Which brings us back to right now.

Emmett staring at me like he’s seeing a ghost.

Me staring at Emmett and remembering how his beard feels against my thighs.

Simon looking back and forth at us, completely clueless.

“How exciting is this!” Simon yells as he claps his hands together. “I already feel like we have a Three Musketeers vibe going.”

He starts to go on about what our group nickname should be, but thankfully a phone call takes him away. He excuses himself into his office, shutting the door behind him.

“What the fuck, Stella?” Emmett whisper yells. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to keep my voice down. Simon might be in his office, but those have glass walls, and I also haven’t tested how sound travels in here. “It happened so fast, and I didn’t have a way to get a hold of you. Also, why didn’t we exchange numbers in Florida?”

“Because we didn’t need to.” He rubs his hand down his face, taking a second to gather himself. I set my box of personal belongings on my future desk at the front of the office space, not wanting to say anything else until Emmett gets his bearings. I had a day to prep for this. He didn’t. “You quit the firm?”

“That’s one way of putting it…”

He raises an eyebrow. “How else can you put it?”

I glance over at Simon, who seems to be still in the thick of his call, but I also know I’m strapped for time. “I quit after I told the entire office, while standing on a desk, that Duncan stole from me, liked to be spanked, and had a tiny dick. That, on top of the whispers and glares and rumors that had been going around me, led me to the decision that it was best if I didn’t work there. That and I was going to get fired for the whole “pencil dick” comment in front of the senior partners.”

Emmett chuckles, and the small smile that pops up immediately eases my nerves. “That’s pretty good, Tiger.”

Fuck…that nickname…I wasn’t expecting that. Is he still going to call me that? How am I supposed to “get over Florida” if I’m constantly reminded? Add that to the list of things I’m going to learn to either forget, or not think about, when it comes to Emmett.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll go down in Carter, Banks, and Fairchild history as one of the more entertaining days in the office.”

“So let me guess,” Emmett says as he sits in the chair that will eventually be mine. “Simon swooped in to save the day by offering you a job. And because he’s always one for a big reveal, decided to not tell me and make it a surprise?”

“Pretty much. He was also crying about how much work it was when you were gone. Me coming on board felt like the right move.” I lean against my desk, which puts me inches away from Emmett. His cologne engulfs me in the best way. God, I’ve missed his smell.

No, Stella. Don’t. Stop. Stop it right now!

Between the nickname and the smells and the beard and the body…I’m in so much trouble. Which is horrible, because Emmett is technically my boss. I’m here to make their lives easier. That’s a boss in my book. Granted, I’ve only had one boss in my life. And they weren’t six-foot-four with sexy scruff that you feel hours after it touches you. They didn’t have eyes that could see every part of you. And they definitely didn’t ruin you for all other men in the sex department.

This is going to be the absolute worst.

I pull myself quickly together to finish catching Emmett up. “I went to my parents, knowing that I was likely going to need a lawyer. Between the suit he filed, the one I plan on counter filing, and maybe now one for my outburst, I figured a good thing to do was go talk to Dad .

Anyway, that talk turned into a family meeting with Simon, Charlie, my parents, and all my sisters involved. They even FaceTime’d Quinn in Arizona. Before I knew it, Ainsley was adding me to the lease on the apartment, my dad was dusting off his laptop to file motions, and Simon was offering me a job with Magnolia Properties. I’m sorry, Emmett. I really wanted to tell you, I?—”

He shakes his head and gently touches my leg. I know he’s not meaning it in an intimate way, but don’t tell that to my body. “I know you did. And I’m sorry for snapping. I was just caught off guard. And I’m sorry you had to quit. I know you loved your job.”

“I did, but it’s what I had to do. I was delusional, thinking that I could go back there and just take a couple of days of ridicule and stares before everything went back to normal.”

“I don’t know if you were delusional,” he says. “Let’s go with wildly optimistic.”

That makes me smile. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

I look up and do a Simon check, and we’re still in the clear. His feet are kicked up on his desk, cell phone on his desk on speaker mode. He looks like he could talk for hours.

“So,” I begin. “How do you want to navigate this?”

Emmett leans forward, hanging his head and resting his elbows on his knees. I internally yell at myself for missing his touch when he pulls back. “I’m usually not a fan of elaborate lies and secrets—I motherfucked Simon when he pulled what he did with Charlie—but I think that’s our best play.”

“I agree,” I say. At least, my head agrees. My body doesn’t, but it’ll just have to catch up. “And nothing is going to happen with us again, so there’s no sense in telling him about Florida.”

“Exactly. We’re two adults. We can be in a room together and not tear each other’s clothes off.”

Speak for yourself, Cap…

“Plus, I’m only in the office a few days a week,” he continues. “We can behave and not be weird about what we shared. ”

“Weird about what?”

Emmett and I both jump at the sound of Simon’s voice as he walks back toward us.

“Oh nothing,” I say, though I can tell my tone is oozing with suspicion. Adding to the suspicion is Emmett looking everywhere but at Simon. “Just weird that as of a few weeks ago we’d never met and now we’re coworkers.”

I don’t know where that came from but I want to pat myself on the back.

“Crazy how things work,” Simon says. “I have a good feeling about this. Like it was all meant to happen.”

Simon gives Emmett a pat on the back and me a kiss on the cheek before exiting the building, I’m assuming to go next door and drive Charlie crazy at the diner.

“We can do this,” I say. “We’ve got this completely under control.”

“Completely under control.”

I move to sit at my desk, only to run into Emmett, who’s trying to walk away. I don’t know where he was going, but now we’re just standing here. Staring. His chocolate brown eyes are burning into me. Our bodies are touching, and I’m pretty sure I’m feeling something else, though I could be imagining it. Or hoping. Not sure which one.

I bite my lip out of habit, needing something to keep me from jumping into his arms and kissing the hell out of him. His breathing is picking up, and I bet if I look down at his fists, they’re clenched.

I don’t know if makes me feel better or worse that he’s struggling with this just as much as I am.

But one thing I do know—this is going to be hard as hell. And I’m not just talking about Emmett’s dick, which I’m definitely not imagining.

“I need you to walk away, Stella,” he says in his low, growly tone .

If he wants me to leave then he needs to stop using his sex voice. “Why?”

“Because if you don’t, then I’m going to toss you on this desk and fuck you for anyone walking by to see. And I’m not going to regret it one fucking bit.”

Oh…well then…

Swallowing the rather large lump that suddenly appeared in my throat, I do as Emmett asked and walk toward the back of the office. My feet pick up speed as I end up racing into the bathroom and slam the door shut.

“Dammit, Stella…” I say to myself as I lean against the door, suddenly struggling to catch my breath. “What are you going to do?”

“To fucking your cabana boy boss!”

I shush Andi at her fake toast. I don’t know anyone here—that I know of—but the way she puts it makes it seem very strange.

“He was never the cabana boy,” I say as I play with the stem of my martini glass. “He was…Cap.”

I don’t know how else to describe him to her, and I know my use of his nickname doesn’t help that. I’ve tried and failed a few times to truly talk about what Emmett did for me in Florida during this emergency girls’ night. Maybe a few more martinis will help.

Normally Andi and I meet on Thursdays for drinks. It’s our tradition since the first week we worked together at the law firm. But this problem? It couldn’t wait another minute.

She’s now caught up on Florida. Our vacation fling pact. Our now work relationship.

I did though leave out the threat—or was it a promise—he made today about bending me over the desk. I liked that one more than I care to admit .

“Stella, I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to know there is no wrong answer.”

I lift an eyebrow to Andi. “This sounds like a question where there’s actually many wrong answers.”

“No. I just need to see where your head’s at before I proceed with any advice.”

“Go on,” I say before taking a healthy sip of my lemon drop martini.

“Do you have feelings for him?”

And I nearly spit out that drink. “What? That’s absurd. I don’t have feelings for Emmett.”

Either my voice got too high or Andi knows me too well, because she’s clearly not buying it.

“Is it? He got you through the hardest day of your life. You shared a lot with him, in many ways, while you were in Florida. And the way you just said his name? A nickname, might I add…it just seems like you have feelings for him. Real ones. Not ones you think you have because of orgasms.”

I could keep protesting, but it’s pointless. “I mean, yes, I have some feelings. He’s a friend. A very good friend.”

“A very naked friend.”

“Then. He was a naked friend then,” I correct. “Did we have sex? Yes. Did he eat ice cream off my body? Yes. Did his dick make me speak in tongues? Yes. But do I have romantic feelings for him? No. I do not.”

“Okay, when we’re done with this conversation, we’re going to revisit the ice cream thing,” Andi says, turning my barstool so I’m now facing her. “Feelings aren’t bad, Stella. You’re allowed to have feelings for a person.”

“But I don’t,” I protest. “Not like that. Emmett is my friend. Yes, we shared a lot, and I have affection for him. I think that’s normal. But I’m not in any place to be in a relationship, let alone have feelings for a man. Just a few weeks ago I was supposed to get married. I’m not in any place to be having any sort of feelings that are more than friendship. Plus, Emmett is very anti relationship. He made that abundantly clear. So even if I did, which I don’t, they wouldn’t be returned. So, the answer to your question is, no, I don’t have feelings for Emmett. And I won’t. I just need to figure out how to forget how he looks naked while I’m at the office.”

“Okay then,” Andi says, though I can tell from her tone she clearly doesn’t believe me. “I just want you to know, it’s okay if you do. Finding your person isn’t on a timeline. It happens when you’re meant to. It’s not a check box on a to-do list. Feelings, real feelings, for that person who was meant for you? Sometimes it happens when you aren’t expecting it. So if you did feel that way for Emmett, just promise me you won’t ignore them or push them to the side. Don’t reject them because others are saying it’s too soon. When it’s right, it’s right. Fuck a clock.”

She’s right. In theory. Except I don’t feel like that toward Emmett so it doesn’t matter.

“But as for you and Emmett, if you really are just friends, then you’re going to need to quickly forget about the ice cream and the penis and remember that you work for him. He’s a very close friend to your brother. And if he’s not a relationship guy, then it should be no problem pushing any gray-area feelings to the side. Right?”

“Right,” I agree, though the word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Which is silly, because I don’t have feelings like that for Emmett.

Keep saying it, Stella…the more you say it, the more in denial you can live.