If he noted her sarcastic tone, he didn’t comment. “Yes. You’re smart and you’re funny. I love your sass and your confidence.”
“What’s my last name?”
That gave him pause, but he recovered quickly. “Details like that don’t matter. My heart’s in it, Emmy. You’re what’s been missing from my life. I need you. I need your laugh. Your voice. Your beauty.”
Emmy snorted despite herself. Her heart was pounding because he still hadn’t relinquished her hand, but she tried to keep a level head. The man didn’t realize he was bespelled. Technically, none of this was his fault. She wondered if she should start rambling at him in Japanese. Would that stop his tirade long enough for her to gain control of the situation?
“You’re beautiful, Emmy,” Paul insisted, clearly taking her earlier snort as one of disbelief at the compliment. “You’ve got all this gorgeous hair, and your lips… and I… it’s just… you’re perfect. Lovely. Exotic.”
“Oh, for the love of…” Emmy took a deep breath, tugged experimentally to see if she could free her hand, but he held on tight. “Do not call me exotic, Paul, for fuck’s sake.”
“What? Why not?”
Don’t bother explaining, Emmy, she told herself.It doesn’t matter. He’s a book character. Just get this asshole out of your house.
“Because I’m not a freaking iguana! I’m a human being! Just like you. Being Japanese doesn’t make me some kind of mystical, inscrutable creature, and I refuse to be flattered just because you chose to call me ‘exotic’ rather than ‘foreign’!”
Good going, champ, she thought sarcastically.Way to rein yourself in.
Paul blinked at her, a bemused expression on his face. She found she could finally retrieve her hand from his grip. She wiped it not-so-subtly on her pants, and then sighed.
“Paul, you need to go. I don’t know how else to—oh, for fuck’s sake!”
Paul had pulled a small, velvet box out of his pocket. Though he faltered a little at her vulgar outburst, it didn’t stop him from dropping down to one knee. When he opened the box, she saw a silver ring with a diamond big enough to put someone’s eye out. At the moment, she was sorely tempted to try it… on the man who was apparently proposing to her right now.
“Emmy, I want you to be my wife.”
“No, you don’t,” Emmy said. She was surprised to find that she felt more weary than anything else.
Paul frowned. “I do.” His smile returned. “See? I already know my line.”
“Jesus,” Emmy muttered. “Paul…”
“All you have to do is say ‘yes,’” he told her, his voice filled with what she had to admit was genuine emotion. “Say ‘yes’ and I’ll spend every day of our lives together making you happy.”
He really believed it, she realized. She didn’t know anything about him as a character, what role he’d had in the story before she’d popped into it. All she knew was that right here, right now, he believed he was in love with her. He believed they were destined to be together.
“Paul,” Emmy said again, relief filling her as she heard the telltale rumble of the garage door. The cavalry had arrived. She just needed to stall for another second. With Will here, they’d be able to get the guy back into his truck and on his way back to his farm in no time.
“Emmy,” Paul said, his voice soft. “Marry me.”
In the background, she heard the door open and close. Still stalling, Emmy said, “Watashi wa kurage desu.”
“That was beautiful. What does it mean? Is that how you say ‘yes’ in Japanese?”
Emmy heard Will’s footsteps. A second later, the sound stopped abruptly in the kitchen doorway.
“It’s ‘no,’ Paul,” Emmy told him, trying to keep her voice gentle. “I’m sorry, but I’m not for you. We’re not for each other,” she amended. “I promise you, I would never make you happy.”
He started to cry, and that was worse. Emmy finally looked at Will, would have laughed at his expression—part bewilderment, part disgust—if the situation were different. Her eyes pled with him. Will sent her a look that clearly said, “What the fuck?”
But he went to help a sobbing Paul to his feet.
“Alright, buddy. Let’s get you out of here. I need to have a talk with my girlfriend about letting strange men propose to her when I’m not here.”
“You’ll never love her like I do,” Paul whimpered.
“I think I agree with you there.”
