Stacy Connelly - The Wedding She Always Wanted

In more recent shots, she could almost feel the energy pulsing from the vibrant pictures that caught waiters and waitresses with loaded trays as they ducked between crowded tables filled with laughing patrons. In a few of the frames, she spotted Javy. He wore what she assumed was the typical male uniform, a white button-down shirt and black pants, a sharp contrast to the colorful shirts and embroidered, tiered skirts worn by the waitresses.

His heart-stopping grin was on display in almost every shot, and she tried not to notice the interchangeable women by his side. Blonde, brunette, redhead, he didn’t seem to have a type, except the women had one thing in common—they were all beautiful.

Last night Emily had lain awake for hours, reliving the memory of Javy’s kiss even as she strictly told herself to forget it—to forget him. He had a reputation as a playboy, and that kiss had proved he had the skills to match. She’d be foolish to walk any further down a road that would only lead to heartbreak. But the more she argued how dangerous Javy was, the more … safe he started to seem.

Oh, by three o’clock in the morning she’d convinced herself she was suffering from sleep deprivation. But even at six, after a few hours of sleep, the idea still circled through her thoughts. Todd had hurt her when he’d cheated and lied and pretended to be something he wasn’t. He’d fooled her every step of the way.

But with Javy, her eyes were wide-open. She knew what he was and what he wasn’t, and she had no expectations beyond that. No plans of becoming a permanent fixture by his side in future photos. And as long as she kept that in mind, she had little chance of getting hurt.

She had her own safety still firmly in mind as she wandered around the back of the restaurant, toward the bar and patio. When she caught sight of Maria through the sliding-glass doors, Emily immediately froze. Still stunned by the way she’d stood up to the older woman, Emily doubted she had it in her to go another round. But Maria wasn’t paying any attention to her. With the blazing summer sun outside, Emily doubted she could even be seen inside, and Maria’s attention was firmly fixed on the tables and chairs Javy had asked Tommy to move out of the way.

Emily was ready to slip away unnoticed when she saw Javy walk over to his mother, bend down and urge her to stand.

“Another piece of my Miguel … gone. Soon there will be nothing left.” The words were muffled by the glass, but Emily could hear the devastating sense of loss in Maria’s voice.

“That’s not true. You still have the restaurant, you have your memories and nothing can take him from your heart.” Despite Javy’s encouragement, sorrow still pulled at his mother’s expression, and he quickly promised, “And I can fix the chairs and tables. I can cut away the worst of the damage, sand down the tables and chairs and restain them—”

“It won’t be the same, hijo.”

Maria was too focused on the furniture to see the expression on her son’s face, but Emily couldn’t pull her gaze away from the pain of rejection written across his handsome features. She wasn’t going to be any good at protecting herself, after all. She already cared enough to hurt for Javy. Did she really think she could keep her heart from breaking because of him?

Emily made her way back to the main dining area without Javy or his mother spotting her, and that was where he found her minutes later. “Hey, sorry that took so long,” he offered, his manner completely at ease, but Emily knew better.

She could still see the rejection he was trying to hide in the tension in his jaw and the faint lines between his eyebrows. If not for that brief scene she’d witnessed, Emily might not have noticed. But now she couldn’t not

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