The Night Before Christian Read Free Page B

probably thought he was
sparing him by not bringing Emory up. It’d been a good call.
    Chauncey smirked. “I
keep my ear to the ground.”
    By looking at Emory,
Christian wouldn’t have known all she was going through. As always, she was a
picture of perfection. This had to be hell for her. For a brief moment, it
angered Christian that Chauncey knew more about Emory’s life than he did. But once
the sentiment passed, he reminded himself that these weren’t his burdens to
bear. Emory was no longer a part of his life. Well…a part of his intimate life.
    Chauncey cuffed his
hands in front of him. “She came close to losing her shop a few months back.
Taking care of two households and helping to put her sister through college…
It’s draining her. I offered to help, but of course she turned me down. She
said she don’t take handouts, then promptly told me to stay the hell out of her
business.”
    Christian chuckled. Yep,
that was Emory. Strong-willed and stubborn. Trying not to appear overly
interested, he said, “I’m guessing she found a way to save her shop. Seeing how
she’s taunting me from it.”
    “For now, at least.
Some floral design magazine did a piece on her. She got a boost in business
from the article. It was a nice write-up, too.” He pointed over his shoulder.
“I might have a copy if you want to read it.”
    Christian scrubbed his
hand down his face, ignoring the taunt in Chauncey’s words. “I’m good.”
    Now he understood why
she’d refused to step away. She needed the income. He thought about the comment
she’d cutoff about needing money. As hard as he fought it, regret flooded him. The
way he’d treated her gnawed at him with razor-sharp teeth. Her sad brown eyes
staring up at him haunted his thoughts. Damn . Why’d he have to be such
an asshole to her?
    “It must have been one
hell of a shock walking into the room and seeing Emory sitting there.”
    A shock? That would be the
understatement of the year. Plus, it didn’t come close to what he’d felt—anger,
confusion, anxiety. Yet, through all of those negative emotions, he’d also felt
a sense of calm he hadn’t experienced in so long. Standing so close to Emory,
his body had done things that no soon-to-be married man’s body should have done
for any woman other than his fiancée.
    Scattering the
troubling thoughts, he refocused on their conversation. “Let’s just say it took
me by surprise.” One helluva surprise.
    Chauncey lifted his
beer from the table and took a swig. “Just in case you’re wondering, she’s
single. Never could replace you, I suppose.”
    When Chauncey smirked,
Christian tossed one of the red holiday pillows at him. “Go to hell.” Christian
laughed along with his brother, but his thoughts lingered on what Chauncey had
just said. Still single ? Why hadn’t someone snatched Emory off the
market?
    A silence fell between
them, allowing a hard dose of reality to settle into Christian’s head. “I’m
getting married,” he said. Why in the hell did the thought knot his stomach
into a painful ball? Shouldn’t he be floating or something?
    Chauncey inched to the
edge of his chair, rested his elbows on his thighs, and cupped his hands in
front of him. The move signaled deep conversation would follow. “It’s just the
two of us here, bro. What’s said doesn’t leave this room.”
    Christian studied the
serious expression on his brother’s face, then nodded. “Go ’head.”
    “If Yasmin hadn’t
gotten pregnant, would you have proposed to her?”
    Christian reclined
against the plush cushion and hugged an identical red pillow to his chest. “I’m
a St. Claire. St. Claire men don’t run away from their responsibilities.”
Unless of course you were their father.
    Chauncey barked a
laugh. “That sounds like some shit Matriarch would say.”
    Matriarch was the name
Chauncey affectionately called their grandmother behind her back. If the stern
woman had any idea, she’d probably cut him from