Exposed: Book One of The Love Seekers Series (29 page)

              “Because even if this doesn’t work out, nothing will ever happen with that girl.”

              That girl. The words stung. I wanted to shove him right through the wall. Emma brought out my protective instincts, and had me acting like a caveman sometimes. Taking a deep breath and letting it rush out of me, I told him, “I get it. Not everyone can deal with it.” Silently I added,
Some people are shallow pricks who wouldn’t know a good thing if it bet them in the ass.

              Evan had been honest when he said if he met her in a bar he would not have given her the time of day, but he also said after he got to know her, he might actually give her a chance. Brandon’s reaction had me wanting to punch his lights out, and Evan’s made me appreciate our friendship, as well as respect him as a man. It wasn’t Emma’s fault that she had been forced to use a cane or walker, it wasn’t her fault she got sick, and yet, the world punished her based on nothing more than her outward appearance. How many times had I, and others, judged the people we came in contact with on nothing except a casual glance? Judging them based solely on what we saw before us without speaking to them at all? Too many times. The world was all about the outward package. What looks good sold, and that included people as well.

              Continuing in this fashion, the world would miss out on so much good. People would miss meeting interesting and amazing people for no other reason than because they passed judgement on the way someone appeared. Had I ever been that blind and shallow? I was at some point. Emma changed me.

              We had only known each other for a short time, and even less if we only counted the time we had really started talking, but she changed me. I didn’t understand how it happened, but it had. And for that, I appreciated her so much more than I had before.

              I needed to get out of here and away from him. Brandon had always been one of my closest friends, and even played football together. He was there long before I met Chad in college, and they had both managed to make it on my shit list for opposite reasons. One wanted to treat her like a pariah, and the other wanted to ask her out. “Thanks.” I grabbed the sample packets and spun around, intending to leave right then and there.

              “What’s your problem?” Brandon’s snide question stopped me, and I turned back to look at him.

              “Nothing.”

              “Well something has your fucking boxers in a twist. Is it because I don’t like her?”

              “Like I said, nothing. Not everyone can deal. I get it.”

              “Then what your goddamn problem?”

              My arms crossed over my chest in a clear message of
‘fuck you,’
but he pushed on.

              “I’m not saying she isn’t a great person. I just don’t see any chemistry there.”

              I stayed silence for a moment, trying to get my temper under control before I asked, “If you were with someone and they suddenly got sick, would that change anything for you?”

              “What?”

              “Would it? Would you stop loving them because they suddenly lost control over their body, had to use a walker, couldn’t feed themselves, had to use a wheelchair? Would you?”

              “If I loved the person, then no.”

              “And if it wasn’t love, but you had been dating for a while and cared about her?”

              “I don’t know. That’s a huge change. With love, you sign up for shit like that if you want to spend forever with them, but just dating…I’d like to say I’d stick around, but I’m not sure what I would do.”

              Once again, he answered honestly, and I could see the truth of his words in his eyes. Nodding, I turned around and started to leave when he stopped me again.

              “I can’t date her, but I never said I couldn’t be her friend or never be seen with her. You’re my friend and that means I will more than likely see her around whenever you’re in town.”

              Nodding once more, I finally left him alone. His stance on dating someone like Emma bugged the crap out of me. I needed distance from him. Emma dealt with this on a daily basis. Thinking about that, made me want to stand in front of her and protect her from anything and everything. All of this solidified my belief that Emma deserved better. It blinked blaringly bright like the lights of Vegas before me.

              And when I rejoined Emma in the reception area, Mr. Smooth receptionist was in the middle of striking out because she still didn’t grasp the fact that this man was attempting to flirt with her. Suddenly, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off of m shoulders, and the last ten minutes never happened. Amused at the frustration I saw on Mr. Smooth’s face, I laughed. Her complete obliviousness to everything was hysterical.

              Both sets of eyes darted toward me. They thought I had utterly lost my mind, and maybe I had. I could see it in their gazes. I wanted to rip out Chad’s throat for even considering asking Emma out, I wanted to punch Brandon for not wanting to ask her out, and then there stood Mr. Smooth unable to seal the deal.

              “Are you all right?” Emma asked, her eyes narrowed. I thought she was trying to decide if she should call for a strait jacket.

              Waving off her concern, I swiped away an invisible tear from my eye. I’m fine. You ready to go?”

              “Wait,” Mr. Smooth called out. He searched his desk, and when he found his pen, he wrote something down on a white card and held it out for Emma to take. “If you need any kind of training or a good gym or advice on supplements or anything, give me a call. I’m Nick.”

              “I’m not really—” she began.

              “Please?” His face reminded me of a sad little puppy dog, however, when she took the card, his face lit up with a smile like he had been handed the grand prize. And I did not miss the sneer he sent my way, as if to say,
‘ha! I’ll win her yet.’
He didn’t have a chance in hell. I should have rejoiced that she caught someone’s attention instead of mentally patting myself–and her–on the back for escaping a close call. I silently celebrated.

              “Uh, thanks…I guess,” she mumbled and slid the card into her jeans pocket.

              With a shit eating smile firmly in place, I approached her and the wannabe lover boy, and rested my hand on the small of her back. “Ready to go?” My deep voice rumbled through her body as I leaned in closely and spoke directly into her ear, making it appear as if we were a hell of a lot closer than we really were. Was that a shiver I felt? Probably not, but then again, it might be for the best if I didn’t try to incite any sort of reaction from her.

              “Yep.” She grinned up at me and started shuffling toward the door.
In a hurry?
Maybe she realized what the guy was after, making her want to high–tail it out of there? The possibilities were too numerous to count.

              I happened to glance over my shoulder at the man who had tried his damnedest to win Emma over as I held open the door for her. Seeing his forlorn face made me want to laugh again. Only she could garner this sort of reaction from me; and I had to admit, it was fun.

              Regardless of all of that, seeing her throw the card in the garbage can outside the gym, shocked me a little. “What are you doing?”

              Her shrug lifted her shoulders, and she admitted, “It’s not like I can really use it. So, why keep it? Plus, he was kind of pushy about it all.” Her head twisted this way and that, trying to spot any spies that would report her. Or maybe she only needed to pop her neck.

              In all seriousness, I told her, “I get it, but Brandon said there are exercises you can do that might help with—”

              “I know,” she cut in. “My rheumatologist wants me to keep moving so that my muscles don’t get worse. I need to move when I can, even if it’s just 10 minutes twice a day.”

              “Okay then.” I lifted one of my eyebrows.

              Her feet stopped moving, and without glancing my way, she explained, “I have a gentle yoga DVD that I do when I can, and I have an exercise bike at home. I tried to go to the pool a couple times because they have a program for people with health conditions, but it’s an inside pool and they heat it.”

              “And that’s a problem?”

              “Heat makes me weaker. Neither class ended well, and the second time I tried, Ellie had to take me to the ER.”

              “Everyday?”

              Shaking her head, her eyes dropped to the seat of her rolling walker. “No. Only on days I can. Some days, I can’t get out of bed. Other days, I struggle to eat. On those days, I save my energy.” Her feet started shuffling forward again.

              I was impressed. Even with everything she dealt with, she tried to push herself, but still understood her limits. She truly was an amazing and special woman.

              “So are you going to feed me now?” She asked, interrupting my thoughts.

              “You sound like that plant from
Little Shop of Horrors,
” I teased her and made my voice sound gravely when I said,
“Feed me Seymour.”

              “I’m not that bad,” she gasped, but I could hear the trickle of mirth.

              “Nah, not that bad…for now.” We both laughed and I helped her into the Jeep. “Is there anything that sounds good?”

              “I’m open.”

              “Good, because I know of this great Cajun place I’ve been craving, and no one in my family likes Cajun food.”

              Without missing a beat, she deadpanned, “Aliens. That is the only way to explain their lack of taste.”

              I kept a straight face when I replied, “A crying shame, but that would explain so much. I should have their brains dissected.”

              One look at her and we both lost it again. I didn’t think I’d ever laughed that much with a girl. Not even Mel or my sister, but again, I didn’t want to explore the whys. She needed a prince in her life, and I didn’t think I fit the mold. She needed stability and someone who wanted a long term relationship; and I was a serial dater. After my two year relationship came to an end, the longest I’d ever dated someone was three dates, and that was only if they held out sex until then. She also needed someone who would be there for her. I lived on the other side of the country, therefore, I couldn’t be here. Granted my orders were coming up and I was supposed to transfer, but that didn’t mean I would be coming back to South Carolina, which was another reason we wouldn’t work out. Moving and transferring, she needed one set of doctors instead of new doctors every few years. And besides all of that, I had a dangerous job and was sent into warzones. She shouldn’t have to worry about whether her husband would be coming home or not. It was one of the biggest reasons I never got serious about anyone.

              She deserved more than I could give her.

              I didn’t bring up Mr. Smooth until we sat down for our meal and she began to peruse the menu. “So were you not interested in what the guy was selling?” I knew this menu like the back of my hand. It had always been one of my favorite places to eat, so instead of studying the menu, I chose to study her. Surprise, bewilderment, disbelief. All of them flashed across her soft creamy skin and lit up her chocolate brown eyes.

              “Guy? Which guy?” She tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow. The way she bit her bottom lip as she thought about my question, had me adjusting myself under the table.

              Did she really not know, or was she playing dumb? “The one at the gym. The receptionist.”

              “What do you mean?”

              Snorting with laughter, I graciously pointed out, “That guy scoped you out and tried to get your attention the entire time we were there.”

              The confusion never left her face. “Huh?”

              “The guy. At the gym.”

              “Yeah.”

              “He stared at you like you were filet mignon and he was craving steak.”

              Her eyebrows scrunched together so much, she looked like she was angry. “No, he didn’t.”

              Seriously? Was she fishing for a compliment? But I knew she wasn’t because Emma wasn’t that type of person. She had absolutely zero self–awareness. I had sort of clued into that during our chats, but now this assured me that was definitely the case.

              Clasping my hands together, I leveled my gaze on her, and stated, “From the time we walked in until we left, he wanted nothing more than to occupy your personal space.”

              She had the audacity to roll her eyes at me. “Nope. That guy was only looking to expand his clientele list. That’s all. He’s one that will flirt and do whatever it takes to get one more customer so he can increase his bank account.”

              Woah! This girl happened to be even more clueless than I initially realized. Leaning forward, I assured her, “Take my word on this, okay? You caught his eye the moment we walked in and he hated the fact you were there with me. When he gave you his business card, he was hoping you would call him so he could ask you out on a date.”