Page 18 of Breaking Emily's Rules
“Oh, the hell it is. You didn’t do anything wrong, so why change who you are?”
I sighed. “Because maybe I want to?”
“Only if you want to change for the right reasons. I’ve always said you can’t control everything. Sometimes the fun is in letting go and going for a ride.” Rachel rubbed her temple. “Okay. I get where you’re going with this. And I think I’m on board.”
“Thank you!”
“Why don’t we try this ‘new you’ on for size.” Rachel, who faced the entrance to the café from our booth, turned to point to a man who now stood in line behind her. “What about him?”
I glanced at the man’s back. I hadn’t even noticed anyone come in. Still, I couldn’t see how a stranger had anything to do with this.
“Him?”
“I’d like to see this new wild woman go up to that man and ask him out. Then I’ll believe you mean it. That will show me you’re willing to do this thing by relaxing Emily’s Dating Rules.”
“Can we start with something that doesn’t have anything to do with a guy? This new me doesn’t have anything to do with men.”
“Sweetie, you can’t do anything wild without a man, and you and I both know it.”
I smoothed the plastic edge of the pilot’s license. “I’m going to try. This is about becoming a better me. Stretching, growing.”
“Meh. I hear a lot of excuses. I don’t think you have it in you. It’s all right. Not everyone does.”
“I’mnotafraid. There’s no point to it.”
Besides, what if the man said yes? What then?
“Okay, okay, never mind.”
“What if he’s married?”
That would be where I’d draw the line with this rebel thing. No married men. No thank you.
“Then he’ll say no.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s being naïve?”
“I’ll have him checked out if he says yes. It’s one date, and it won’t kill you. And after that, you can go back to your dry spell.”
“Fine. I’ll do it. But if he says yes, you’ll have to find a way to get me out of it.” I planted my hands on the table, wrenched myself up and marched over to the man’s back.
It was a pretty good-looking back, as those went. Broad shoulders tapered down to long lean legs. Definitely fit, not that it mattered.
Ask the man out. I could do that.
Rachel was worried about me, which was kind of sweet, actually. But even if I had stayed in bed for the better part of six months, I was back now and better than ever. Except, I wasn’t sure how I would ask this man out.
I’d watched Molly do this a bazillion times. I had to channel my inner Hootchie Mama. She was in there somewhere, under lock and key, and would now be released on an unsuspecting world. And this unsuspecting man. She’d probably come staggering out, waving cobwebs out of her way, but come out she would. Just for a minute.
I drew in a deep breath. In a voice as dripping with sex as I could conjure up, I said to the man’s back, “Hey, I think you and I should go out sometime. What do you say?”
The man had just paid for his drink and turned, coffee in hand, eyebrows up.
It was Stone.
My hand went up in surprise, and accidentally collided with his hot coffee. Like watching a disaster unfold in slow motion, he tried to right the cup while my hand did the same. But when my hand slapped against his, disaster reigned supreme as coffee won the day and spilled all over Stone’s brown cargo pants.
“Here, let me help you.” I grabbed napkins, and the barista threw over a dishrag.
