Page 28 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Ben

E mma hasn’t been her usual bubbly self this week. I can’t tell if it’s because of the flowers, the stuff with her grandpa, or something else, and it’s driving me crazy. She won’t talk to me about it, and she insists everything’s fine when I’ve dared ask.

She’s putting on her happy mask with everyone, but her eyes are missing their spark, and when she thinks no one’s watching, her shoulders sag.

More than once, I’ve seen her dab her eyes with a tissue.

She’s barely spoken to me, only when she needs something work related.

She’s declined my invitations to join me on job sites, saying she needs to get paperwork done, which is a lie.

She gets all of her paperwork done on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Other than the thank you text, she hasn’t brought up the flowers.

I should have known they were too much, but I’m not good at this.

The wooing or whatever. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to do anything romantic, and I was never good at it in the first place.

You’d think at thirty-two, I would know how to impress a woman.

Janessa and I were in each other’s orbit, sharing the same friend group and living in the same dorm, I don’t think I ever even asked her on a proper date.

One day, I kissed her, and we never stopped.

When our leases were up, it made sense to move in together.

The only official thing I did was propose, and even that wasn’t some grand gesture.

I took her to a nice dinner and got down on one knee with a ring I picked out just a few days before.

I cringe thinking about it. No wonder our relationship never worked out. I definitely didn’t have my priorities in order then, but I won’t make the same mistakes with Emma.

My dad approaches Emma’s office, and she fixes her face into a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“ Ciao, bella! Camila wanted me to extend an invitation to come over for lunch tomorrow. We would love a chance to get to know you a little better.”

Weird. They never invite just a single person, it’s usually a company thing.

“Oh, that’s so kind, Enzo. I just—”

“Before you say no, just think about it. Good food, good company! Camila has been talking about you non-stop since Saturday. I will deny my wife nothing, and it would mean so much to her if you would join us.”

I can’t see Emma, but I’m sure she’s biting her lip while she thinks. Obligation and her people-pleasing tendencies are going to make her agree.

“What time should I be there, and what can I bring?” she indulges, and Papà claps his hands in delight .

“Nothing, bella. Nothing. Just yourself.” There’s a brief pause, then he says, “Mateo is eager to meet you.”

I don’t hear what Emma says after that because of the ringing in my ears.

Oh, hell no.

This is a setup. Mamà’s got her matchmaking hat on, and she’s trying to set up Mateo and Emma.

Over my dead body.

I don’t hear the rest of their conversation over the roar of my blood pounding in my ears, but when Papà walks towards my office I start aimlessly typing so it looks like I’m busy.

He closes the door, which means this isn’t a conversation he wants overheard, and takes a seat in the chair across from me.

“I would like you to pick Emma up for lunch tomorrow.”

I can’t help my disbelieving scoff. “If you’re trying to set her up with Mateo, why would I pick her up?”

“Because she knows you not Mateo. Yet. I want her to enjoy the day without worrying about driving home.” He gives me a mischievous grin. “Mateo can take her home after.”

“She’ll never go for it,” I argue, knowing she’d rather walk than ride with me.

“She already agreed.”

So that’s what I missed when I was simmering with possessive rage. Papà must read my shock because he chuckles. “I told her you will pick her up at eleven. Be nice, Beniamino. She may be your future sister-in-law.”

Like hell she will.

With that, he gets up and leaves my office, whistling in delight as he meanders back down the hall.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a few deep, steadying breaths, trying to get a handle on myself.

Then, I pull out my phone and text Mateo to meet me for a drink tonight.

He quickly texts back, agreeing to meet me at a bar I’ve never heard of close to his work.

He’s probably oblivious to the fact our parents are trying to set him up tomorrow, so I think it’s best I give him a heads up.

It’s my brotherly duty after all.

“What?” I bark, not bothering to look up when I hear a knock on my door.

“Sorry,” Emma replies, her voice sheepish, which immediately makes me feel like an asshole. “I just wanted to say you don’t have to pick me up. I can drive, or Jordan can bring me. I also wanted to know what your mom’s favorite flowers are?”

I finally look up, but she refuses to meet my gaze.

“It’s not a problem. Papà wants you to enjoy the day—meaning he wants to supply you with alcohol. I don’t mind picking you up. Mamà likes peonies.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Tomorrow.”

The first thing I notice when I walk up to the bar is the Pride flag next to the half-broken neon McGrath’s sign.

Mateo is straight as an arrow— as far as I know, so it’s curious this is the place he chose—maybe he just likes their drinks.

I have nothing against the LGBTQ+ community, but I also don’t know many people who are part of it.

My mind flashes back to Emma’s green ribbon around her wrist. Is she bisexual?

Mateo is waiting for me at the bar, chatting with the blue-haired bartender. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his business casual khakis and blue polo, but Mateo doesn’t care much about what people think.

I slide into the empty stool next to him, giving him a clap on the back to let him know I’m here.

“Ah, perfect timing. A prickly pear cider for my brother please, Kit,” Mateo says to the bartender.

“Uh, actually, just soda water with lime, if you don’t mind. How did you find this place, Teo?”

Kit nods, setting a glass down and filling it with ice, sparkling water, and a lime wedge before moving down the bar to the other patrons.

“I heard they have good cocktails. I didn’t realize it was a LGBTQ+ bar when I chose it, but I can’t say I hate the vibes. What’s stuck up your ass today?” Mateo asks, sipping a shimmery, bright pink cocktail.

“Mom and Dad are trying to set you up with my coworker.” I don’t want to beat around the bush, just give him the information and go on my way.

Mateo gives me a smirk. “I know. Mamà hasn’t stopped gushing about her all week.”

My jaw ticks. “You’re okay with them playing matchmaker?”

Mateo shrugs. “Why not? The dating apps haven’t gone well. Maybe Mamà actually does know best, and she’s my future wife.”

My knuckles turn white from how hard I’m gripping the glass. I’m worried it’ll shatter into a million pieces.

Before I can respond, the bell above the door jingles, and my gaze darts to Kiera’s familiar face and bright pink hair walking through the door with three other people I don’t recognize and a head of blonde hair I do.

The din of the bar fades away as Emma walks in, arm in arm with a person with cropped brown hair. I can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman, but I don’t like the familiar way they’re touching Emma.

She’s changed since work; instead of the jeans and Rossi T-shirt she had on earlier, she’s wearing a white dress with an oversized flannel shirt that looks like it belongs to a man.

I sure as hell hope it doesn’t.

“Earth to Ben!” Mateo snaps his fingers in my face.

“What?” I bite back, reluctantly taking my eyes off Emma.

Mateo follows where my line of sight was, whistling as he sees who caught my eye. “The blonde babe got your attention? I thought you only liked brunettes, but I guess people change. You should go ask for her number. Maybe she’ll be able to fuck the grump out of you.”

“That’s Emma,” I mumble.

“What?” He holds a hand up to his ear.

“That’s Emma,” I hiss, a bit louder.

Mateo’s eyes widen in surprise, his mouth popping open into an “o.” Then, his grin turns conniving. “Well, well, well. Since that’s my potential future wife, I should go say hello.”

He goes to stand up, but I clamp his arm to keep him in place. “Don’t. ”

“Why not? It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Leave her alone. She’s had a rough week. You’ll meet her tomorrow.”

“But we’re both here right now. It’s as if fate tossed her into my lap.” His eyebrows pump suggestively.

Unbidden, an image of Emma sitting in Mateo’s lap, snuggling into him and nuzzling against him crosses my mind. His hand in her hair, resting on her hip. Her hand cradling his jaw as she gazes at him adoringly.

My grip on him tightens.

Mateo glances down at where my hand is strangling his arm, then up at me, before his face splits into a wide, knowing grin. “It truly is fate because here she comes,” he whispers, and Emma appears on his other side seconds later.

Kit comes towards us but stops in front of Emma as she places her order.

While Kit is making her drinks, Mateo clears his throat.

Emma turns toward Mateo and gives him a brief, kind smile before facing forward again.

Good. Show him you’re not available.

Undeterred, Mateo starts talking to her. “Emma? I’m Mateo. Enzo Rossi’s son.”

Emma’s head whips towards my brother, her eyes wide with shock, then she registers I’m sitting next to him, and her eyes dart between the two of us as she taps her nails rapidly on the bar top.

“Hi, uh, we’re supposed to meet tomorrow at lunch, I think. Hi, Ben,” she adds the last part almost as an afterthought, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to be an afterthought .

“Emma.” I take a sip of my drink.

“Well, the fates have aligned so we can meet without an audience. Well, other than my brother. And I must say, I’m grateful for that. Mamà was right, you are stunning. ”

Emma blushes. I can’t even appreciate it because she’s not blushing for me, she’s blushing for my Casanova of a brother.

I didn’t know fratricide was on the agenda tonight.

“Thank you,” Emma replies with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Her body language is screaming uninterested, which Mateo either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

Kit brings a tray of drinks to Emma, but before she can pay for them, Mateo is telling Kit to add it to his tab.

Emma protests, but Mateo insists, so she concedes with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

She thanks Mateo again before taking the tray to her table, waving goodbye to us with promises of seeing us tomorrow.

Mateo and I both watch her the entire time she walks away.

“Damn,” Mateo curses as he turns his back on them. “I thought for sure she’d invite me to her table or continue our conversation. Hopefully tomorrow will go better.”

I chug the rest of my soda water, relishing the way the bubbles burn on the way down.

“I don’t think she’s interested, Teo.”

He waves his hand in front of him dismissively. “She was just caught off guard. I can charm her tomorrow when she’s not with her friends.”

“I think you should leave her alone,” I snap .

Mateo studies me for a second, nodding before he barks out a laugh. “You’re into her.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. It’s obvious. The look on your face when she walked in, the protective way you talk about her. Why else would you feel the need to warn me beforehand about a set up?”

“Things could get awkward if you date a Rossi employee and it doesn’t work out.”

“Is that why you haven’t made a move? You didn’t warn me when they tried to set me up with your HR rep.” He shudders as he remembers the disaster that was his date with Katrina.

“Drop it, Mateo. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea. Even if we don’t date, no harm in having a night of passion with her.”

I clamp my mouth shut before I rail into him about her not being that type of girl. He’s baiting me. I know he is, and it’s working.

But more than that, I’m mad because she is the type of girl who wants one night. She told me that herself.

We haven’t even discussed if we’re meeting tomorrow night because she’s avoiding me, and I hate it.

Good thing I have time tomorrow before lunch to talk to her.