The Proposition (The Proposition #1)(47)

Patrick nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly how it feels.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it tight. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence hung around them as Emma kept admiring Patrick’s garden. She had just inhaled what she imagined was a Yellow Rose of Texas when Patrick’s voice startled her. “So you and my son work together?”

“We’re both at the same company, but he actually works a few floors above me.”

“I see.”

Emma glanced up from the rose she was admiring to find Patrick giving her a knowing look. “And you two expect me to believe there’s nothing between you but that you work together?” he asked, with a smile.

Emma flushed. “Well, no, I mean, it’s complicated.”

“Isn’t love always complicated?”

“I-I guess so. But we’ve only known each other for a couple of months, so he’s not in love—I mean, we’re not in love.”

Patrick pinched his lips together. “Do you see this rose?”

Emma nodded.

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to bloom, does it?”

Tilting her head, Emma eyed the closed bud. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Ah, but that’s where appearances are deceiving. Sometimes the ones that bloom fastest fade quickly. It’s these that are the toughest to coax out that make some of the most gorgeous flowers.” He snipped a long stemmed Don Juan and handed it to Emma. “You can tell me that you and Aidan aren’t in love, but looks can be deceiving.”

She gasped and almost dropped the rose. She opened her mouth to argue with Patrick, but Aidan came strolling up. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right, son. I was enjoying getting to know Emma better,” Patrick replied. Emma ducked her head to avoid his intense stare. “Won’t you two join me for lunch?

“I was actually in the process of taking Em out to brunch when you called.”

“Psh, who wants brunch when you can have a home cooked meal? It’s your mother’s Shepherd’s Pie.”

Emma watched as Aidan’s eyes lit up, and she knew she could forgo her craving for pancakes. “That sounds delicious,” she said.

Aidan raised his eyebrows questioningly, and she nodded. “Okay, then, we’ll stay.”

“Wonderful!” Patrick exclaimed, motioning them to the backdoor.

Emma smiled. “I have to admit I’m very impressed with the culinary skills of the Fitzgerald men.”

Patrick glanced at Aidan over his shoulder. “Oh, you’ve cooked for Emma?”

She fought the urge to giggle at what looked like a red flush creeping across Aidan’s tanned cheeks. “Yeah, just some scampi. Nothing exciting.”

“He’s just being modest. It was delicious.”

Patrick held the door open for them. “I guess us Fitzgerald men have become forced into learning to cook—mine because of being a widower and Aidan for being a confirmed bachelor.”

“I’m sure whatever you have prepared will be delicious,” Emma said.

Patrick picked up an oven mitt. “Aidan, why don’t you take Emma on to the dining room and set another plate at the table while I get the food together?”

“Why don’t you let me help?” Emma offered.

He smiled. “That would be wonderful.”

Once everything was finished, they all sat down. Patrick reached out his hands. “Aidan, would you return grace?”

Emma’s mouth gaped open in shock. Never in a million years would she have pegged Aidan anything remotely close to religious, least of all being entrusted with saying the blessing.

As he reached out for her hand, Aidan winked. “Close your mouth, Em. You’ll catch a fly like that.”

She pinched her lips together and shot him a murderous glance. But when he took his hand in hers and grazed his fingers tenderly over her knuckles, her anger evaporated. “Dear Lord for what we are about to receive make us truly thankful. Amen.”

As they lifted their heads, Patrick repeated, “Amen.” Emma gave Aidan a coy smile and murmured, “Short and sweet.” He merely chuckled and put his napkin in his lap.

The moment Patrick took the lid off the pot Emma’s stomach clenched. Oh no, not now. Please not now! she silently begged. As the meaty aroma invaded her nostrils, nausea overtook her. The bile rose in her throat, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry!” she murmured before leaping from the table, knocking her chair over in the process.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Aidan swept a nervous glance over to his father. He swallowed hard as Patrick stared at Emma’s retreating form. At the sound of the bathroom door slamming, Patrick raised an expectant brow.

His mind whirled with how he was going to possibly explain Emma’s behavior and keep their secret. He finally smiled apologetically. “I should have mentioned that she was a vegetarian, and that the smell of meat makes her sick.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“Excuse me?” Aidan demanded, leaning forward in his seat. That was certainly not the response he expected. His lie seemed pretty plausible to him. Well except for the small fact that Emma had happily accepted a lunch invitation for meaty pie not ten minutes ago.