Page 35 of Mine to Hold
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” She rested her hand on his biceps.
“I guess I can’t say no.” He smiled before folding the pizza box.
She collected Edwina’s dish, which he planned on tossing. “Do you want that? Because I’m not going to eat it.”
“Seriously?”
He pulled open the sliding glass doors that led into the white and gray kitchen that his sister-in-law, Brie, had helped design. It was gorgeous, but it didn’t belong in a bachelor pad. When he cooked, it was generally on the grill, or he used the microwave to reheat things he snagged from dinners with the family. He’d been a bachelor for so long, and making meals for one had become slightly depressing.
Not because he wanted a wife, but because he didn’t want to spend the time. The one thing he and Tessa did enjoy doing together was putting meals on the table. It had been fun. It was the only time they laughed.
Otherwise, they were always fighting.
“Damn. This place is gorgeous.” She set the dish on the island and ran her fingers over the dark-blue leather sofa. Another thing Brie had picked out when he bought the place. Who was he kidding? Brie and all his sisters-in-law had a hand in helping him decorate. If it had been left up to him, he’d have a folding table in the kitchen and a beanbag chair in the family room.
“Thanks.” He placed the leftover pizza in a container and shoved it in the fridge. “I wasn’t joking about whatever is in thatthing.” He waved his hand over the island. “I’m not eating it out of principle. But you’re welcome to it.”
“Now I’m afraid she might have poisoned it.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. Hard. “That would be Tessa, not Edwina.”
“And who is she?”
“A woman I lived with for two years about ten years ago. It wasn’t a great relationship and it ended even worse. She has a pretty poor opinion of me.”
“Now I’m really intrigued. Why?” Rumor plopped her cute little ass on one of the stools and rested her chin in her palm.
“To make a very long story short, we started out strong until she wanted to move in together. I didn’t think we were ready. I wasn’t ready. I was still traumatized after Edwina, and Tessa knew it. I wanted to wait.” Emmerson leaned against the counter, taking another swig. He had no idea why he chose to share his ugly, sordid romantic past. It certainly didn’t make him look like good dating material with a woman he wanted to spend more time getting to know. But there he was, babbling on about it. “However, because I did care for Tessa and wanted her in my life, we started looking for houses. No sooner were we in than the talk of marriage crept into our daily conversations.”
“I take it you weren’t ready for that either, and she wanted a ring on her finger.”
“Like yesterday.” He laughed. “But to be fair, it wasn’t like I didn’t think about it. We were living together. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t believe we had a future.”
“So what was the problem?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I have some trust issues stemming from my relationship with Edwina.” He raised his hand when Rumor opened her mouth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Alrighty.”
“Anyway. I didn’t see why we had to rush into anything. I figured we could enjoy living under the same roof for a year or two, but Tessa didn’t like that. All her friends were getting married and having these big elaborate weddings. And kids. Boy, did she want kids.”
“And you don’t?”
“I did back then,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t in a hurry for them. She was and it started to grate on me and I handled it by working double shifts.”
Rumor sat up taller. “Oh, I’m sure that didn’t go over well.”
“You’re right, it didn’t. As a matter of fact, I came home between shifts to find her in bed with someone I used to call friend.”
“Ouch.”
“Hence, I still have trust issues with women.”
“I don’t blame you. I would too if I were you.” She slid from the stool. “Which is why I value my lifestyle. I answer to no one but myself. I’m free to come and go whenever I choose and I don’t have to yell at anyone for not putting down the toilet seat.”
He burst out laughing. “My mother raised seven boys. That was her biggest pet peeve.”
