The Wedding She Always Wanted. Stacy Connelly

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      Now that the wedding was over, there’d be little chance of their paths crossing again and less reason for her to cross his thoughts.

      No, he definitely wouldn’t have any problem forgetting Emily Wilson, he thought as an exotic brunette at the end of the bar caught his eye. Her ruby-red lips curved in invitation, and he waited for the familiar kick of interest to flare. He could send over a drink—a cosmopolitan, he figured—strike up a conversation and be well on his way to forgetting. He’d learned, thanks to his friends’ weddings, that a reception was the perfect place to first meet a woman. After all, half the work was done for him. The candles, the flowers, the romantic music were already in place. It was easy. Maybe too easy.

      When the bartender came by, Javy didn’t order a cosmo or any other kind of break-the-ice drink. Instead, he handed over a few bills for his beer and turned to watch Emily in the out-of-the-way corner where he’d first spotted her.

      He wondered if she knew how completely false her smile looked even from across the room. It didn’t come close to reaching her eyes—those beautiful blue eyes with darker flecks, which reminded him of the turquoise gemstones his mother loved.

      Emily Wilson was a gorgeous woman, no doubt about it, but if she really smiled—hell, if she laughed—he didn’t think a man in the room could resist. Including him.

      Good thing it didn’t look like she’d be laughing anytime soon.

      Twenty minutes, Emily vowed silently. She’d give Connor and Kelsey another twenty minutes to cut the cake, and then she was leaving.

      She’d accomplished what she had set out to do by coming to the wedding. First, of course, to see her cousin and Connor get married. And second, to face friends and acquaintances for the first time since calling off the wedding. She’d known the whispers and speculation would only be harder to withstand the more time that passed. So, although she wished she were brave enough to stay until the end—heck, she longed for the courage to stand among the single women and do her darnedest to catch the bouquet—in twenty minutes she was going to live up to her own words and sneak out a side door.

      Until then, well, Emily decided she had to go to the restroom. She’d check her makeup, her hair, her dress, her shoes, even her nail polish, and hopefully by the time she completed the head-to-toe inspection, at least a quarter of an hour would have passed.

      As she stepped into the gold and marble restroom, the door closed behind her, muffling the sounds of music and laughter coming from the reception. Emily leaned against the door for a second and took her first deep breath in hours. The evening was almost over, and she had survived, proving once and for all that embarrassment could not kill.

      Walking over to the vanity and the gilded mirror lit by matching sconces, Emily tried to focus on her hair, to doublecheck that none of the intricate curls were escaping the upswept style. But she froze, staring into her own reflection. Not checking her eyeliner for smudges or pulling her lip gloss from her beaded purse to dab on a second soft pink coat, but instead taking a good, long look at herself.

      What was it about her that she couldn’t even inspire faithfulness during a very brief engagement? Todd hadn’t even waited until the wedding to break his vows. That slap of reality made a dream of lasting love and commitment seem just that—an impossible dream.

      Except she had every faith that Connor’s love for Kelsey would last. Her cousin had found true love, as had her sister. Her parents’ thirty-plus years of marriage proved their lasting commitment. Which meant the dream was only impossible for her … because of something lacking in her.

      Emily turned the faucets on full blast and roughly scrubbed at her hands. Todd was the one at fault, and she needed to stop blaming herself. Yet the doubts picked away at her self-confidence like hungry, spiteful ravens.

       I know when a woman’s in love, and I know when she’s heartbroken. And you, sweetheart, are neither.

      On the dance floor Emily had done her best to dismiss Javy’s words. He knew nothing about her. How could he presume to look inside her heart? But the more she had to work to summon up her anger, the more she worried he was right.

      She’d been so sure she loved Todd; why else would she have agreed to marry him? And yet hadn’t she sensed their relationship wasn’t all it should have been? That he spent more time telling her what he thought she wanted to hear than actually talking to her? That they never looked beyond the surface of an engagement that looked good on paper?

      She now knew why Todd had been so willing to accept so little. The bitter question was, why had she?

      Keeping her gaze away from the mirror, Emily finished washing her hands. She’d just thrown the paper towels away when she heard a burst of laughter coming from the outside hall.

      Averse to coming face-to-face with anyone at the moment, Emily grabbed her small purse and ducked into the far stall.

      The restroom door opened, letting in a burst of music and laughter, along with two women. “Tell me! I have been dying to hear the whole story.”

      Emily’s stomach immediately clenched at the expectation in the woman’s voice.

      “Well.” Drawing out the moment, the second woman paused. “From what I heard, she found out her fiancé was cheating on her with the family chef.”

      “No!”

      “Yes, and it gets even worse! It turns out they have a child together. A boy, I think.”

      “Oh, that is horrible!” the second woman exclaimed, sounding all too overjoyed by the scandal.

      Humiliation burned in Emily’s cheeks at the delight the women were taking in her embarrassment. The details were wrong but close enough for her to realize her family had once again trusted the wrong person. She hadn’t spoken to anyone else about Todd’s infidelity or his reasons for proposing. And yet someone—her mother or sister, most likely—had talked to a close friend, no doubt swearing them to secrecy, for all the good it had done.

      The betrayal was minor compared to Todd’s lying and cheating, but for Emily, it was the last straw.

      With a definitive flick of her wrist, she unlocked the stall door. The two women spun in guilty tandem, but Emily didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, she moved toward the mirror. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, keeping her focus on her own reflection as she spoke. “It was the maid, not the chef. And she’s still pregnant. The baby hasn’t been born yet. If you’re going to talk about me, you might as well get the details straight.”

      A stunned silence accompanied her exit from the restroom—probably the first time either woman had stopped talking since they’d arrived—but Emily didn’t feel better. She hadn’t thought it possible, but if anything, she actually felt worse.

      She was leaving. Now. Before she gave everyone even more to talk about by foolishly bursting into tears at her cousin’s reception.

      Rounding a corner, she gasped when a pair of strong hands clamped on her shoulders, stopping her from running headlong into a tuxedoed chest. “Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Javy’s laughter trailed away, and he ducked his head to look into her face. His thick eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “Emily? Are you all right?”

      Desperate to escape, she said, “I—I have to get out of here.”

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