Struck from the Record (22 page)

Her face changed in that instant, as if a weight had been lifted and she was thinking about the happiest part in her life. “I’d never wanted to open my own gallery. It felt really…constricting. I’d thought for a long time that it was just a hobby, you know?”

“I do.”

She smiled and glanced away, as if admitting that she couldn’t face that he’d been there for all of that. “Then, I sold that French piece for over half a million dollars.”

“The one of the woman looking out the window when it was raining?” he asked.

Her mouth opened slightly in surprise. “Yes, that one.”

“And that changed the game?”

She winced.
Wrong choice of words.

“It made me realize that my collection could become a career. One that I enjoyed.” Andrea crossed her feet and turned to face him. “After that, I had a few people contact me about opening my own place. I was kind of floored. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to just work with anyone, and I needed the perfect space.”

“And you found it?”

She winced slightly and nodded. “Asher actually found it.”

Clay tried to play it cool and not let her know how much that actually hurt. He just kept trudging forward. “Oh, yeah?”

“He’d heard that I was in the market for a space. He had a space. He kind of knew what I was looking for. And then I just kind of acquired it. I mean…it’s not even officially open yet,” she told him.

“When does it open?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “I have the artwork for the space, but it has to be perfect to have an official grand opening, and I don’t have that piece yet.”

“You’ll know when you’re ready.”

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I think you’re right.”

She fidgeted and leaned back on her elbows. She shifted her legs out straight in front of her in the sand.

“Why didn’t you date Asher?” he asked finally.

“What?” she asked, startled by the question.

“You broke up with me. You…you left me,” he said, unable to keep the waver from his voice. “Why aren’t you dating him?”

She sighed again, heavier this time. “It was never about dating someone else, Clay. It wasn’t like I wanted to leave you to run into someone else’s arms. That wasn’t my idea of moving on. Maybe it’s yours.”

“Maybe,” he said uncertainly.

“And I did date Asher.” She looked at him and frowned. “Before you were attacked, we dated for weeks.”

Clay swallowed hard. He’d known this. It was what had sent them into disarray in the first place. “Right.”

“It didn’t work out then.
He
wasn’t what I wanted. And then, after what happened…” She looked away again, shaken all over by the attack. “Did they ever find those bastards?”

He shook his head. “No, the police called off the search. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

“So, it was all just bad fucking luck?” she asked in dismay.

He shrugged. “I’d say it put a lot of things in perspective. Showed me what was important and what wasn’t.”

Andrea frowned again and then glanced out at the water. “You want to know why I was crying when you found me?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking about the first time we met. You remember?”

“Of course. It was right here on this beach.”

“I thought you were so cute. I was so young and naive, and I just wanted the cute boy to like me. Because, if the cute boy liked me, then maybe it wouldn’t matter that my parents only spoke when they argued. Maybe it wouldn’t matter that they hated each other. That they hated me,” she said in a mere whisper.

As she leaned forward, her blonde hair fell forward into her face and over her bare shoulder.

He carefully pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Your parents didn’t hate you. They still don’t hate you. But you just deserved so much more than what they gave you. Do you know what I think about that first day we met?”

“What?” she whispered. Her eyes were glassy, and she looked frightened of the answer.

“I remember falling in love for the first time with this beautiful girl who was giving me the time of day.
Me
and not my brother. Who cared about me and kissed me. You’re so beautiful,” he said, drawing her closer to him. “You always have been.”

“Clay…” she whispered.

He bent down and placed the softest, lightest kiss on her lips, just like the one they’d shared all those years before. She leaned forward into him at the touch, asking for more, but he pulled back. He didn’t want to push her.

“I won’t,” he said huskily. “I want to, but I won’t.”

Andrea looked like she wanted to say something more, but whatever was on the tip of her tongue, he never found out. In the distance, they both heard voices coming from the direction of her house and stomping in the sand nearby.

“What the…” Andrea muttered.

“Savannah,” he muttered, jumping to his feet.

“Why is she out here?”

“Um…shit. I think she’s with Lucas.”

“Together?” she asked, her voice panicky.

“Yeah.”

Andrea swept to her feet. “That can’t be good.”

“Let’s go,” Clay said.

He took her hand in his without asking permission, and they loped across the beach. Few things pissed him off more than something hurting Savannah. When she was upset, he automatically went into big-brother mode.

Savannah’s voice carried louder and louder as they approached. “God, why do you always have to do this?”

“Do what?” Lucas drawled. “Love you? Not sure I’ve ever been able to help that.”

“Ugh, Luc! That’s not enough. It’s not.”

“It could be.”

“You’re drunk and high and being a total asshole,” she cried. “When you sober up tomorrow, you’re going to regret this.”

“I’d never regret you.” Then, he grabbed her by the back of the head and kissed her.

“Shit,” Clay groaned, picking up his speed.

Savannah hesitated for a moment and then pushed him backward. “What are you doing? Why do you only want this, us, when I’m with someone else?”

They never got an answer to that because Clay and Andrea had finally reached them.

“All right, all right,” Clay said, “break it up.”

Andrea wrapped an arm around Savannah’s shoulders and hauled her back a step from the guys.

“I’m fine,” Savannah muttered.

“You’re not,” Clay said. He turned his gaze to Lucas. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and got in his face. “Let’s go. Get out of here. Didn’t you listen to me earlier when I said I’d kick your ass? Fuck!”

“Whatever, man,” Lucas said, wrenching himself from Clay’s grip. “We were fine.”

Lucas started walking away, unprompted, and Clay sighed and followed him. He glanced over his shoulder just once, and he and Andrea locked eyes for just a second. When they looked at each other, in the midst of taking care of their friends, a small smile tugged on her lips before she turned back to keep walking.

It was a step.

A tiny step.

Chapter 21

WEDDING DAY

“You can still change your mind,” Clay said.

Liz rolled her big blue eyes and laughed at him. “Are you trying to convince me to be a runaway bride?”

“I’m just saying…I have a car out front. We could make a break for it. Just think about it. You’ll be tied to my older brother forever.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“We could always run away together.” He winked at her and waited for another laugh to split the air.

“What you’ve always wanted.”

“I’m not denying it if you’re not denying,” he said.

“Oh, Clay…” She patted the shoulder of his black suit. “Whatever will we do with you?”

“Whatever you want.”

Liz exploded into laughter once more, and Clay followed suit. He was joking…mostly. He was glad that Liz and Brady were happy. They had something special. Something he now knew he desperately wanted. And he didn’t think she’d really split anyway.

They had just spent the better part of the last three or four hours taking pictures in the gardens around the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina, on the intense June morning. The high was in the eighties, and already, it was blistering hot. Halfway through the ordeal, Clay was glad when they ventured inside to take indoor pictures.

Clay had always thought Liz was more of a traditional girl, but the number of pictures she wanted seemed to outweigh her desire to wait until the wedding to see Brady. Instead, they had done a very private outdoor First Look with just the photographer present. Savannah and the girls had all been bursting at the seams to see how it had all turned out.

But, thankfully, now, they were all cooling off inside before the main event that afternoon. Brady had left when the wedding planner had scurried into the room and asked for him. Liz had looked worried, but he had assured her that he was a politician, so he could handle anything.

But Clay never did hear what had happened because when Brady returned, he nodded at the guys. “Let’s go.”

“Is it time already?” Liz asked, her voice rising an octave.

Brady smiled at her and looked like he wanted to vault across the room. “Soon.”

“See you there,” she whispered.

“Airplanes, baby.”

She giggled and bit her lip.

Whatever that meant.
Clay just shook his head and followed Brady, Chris, and Lucas out of the room.

Brady directed them to another smaller room that faced the front of the estate. There, on a long wooden table, was a bottle of the most expensive scotch Clay had ever heard of.

An older waiter walked in behind them with a tray full of crystal whiskey glasses and poured the scotch for them.

Clay sniffed the scotch and nearly came in his pants from lust. This was like heaven in a glass. Pure sinful heaven.

“I just thought we could have one last drink before we went out there,” Brady said.

Clay held his glass up. “To Brady and Liz.”

The guys followed suit, and then, they all dropped back the expensive liquor like a shot. They poured another round and drank that one slower, savoring the taste and enjoying each other’s company.

If Clay didn’t know his brother better, he would have thought Brady was nervous. He kept walking back and forth in the room, muttering to himself, as if he were reciting a speech he had memorized, and Clay swore, he saw a slight tremor in Brady’s hand.

But no way. Brady Maxwell was never nervous. That was a fact.

The wedding planner appeared then and stuck her head into the room. “Showtime.”

Brady nodded and set his drink down, and then they filed back out of the room. They exited the estate, single file—Brady, Chris, Clay, and then Lucas—and then lined up behind Brady in front of the flower archway that had been erected at the front of the lawn.

Rows and rows of white wooden seats with blue satin cushions were filled with guests. Baby-blue and white flowers were knotted to each of the chairs at the end of every row. Enormous bouquets marked the end of the aisle that had formed for the girls. Not much else was needed since they had chosen the most gorgeous outdoor venue possible.

A string quartet was playing soft music for the guests. Just as the music shifted, Clay adjusted his Carolina blue tie one last time and then clasped his hands together in front of him.

Massey appeared first with her blonde hair braided into a bun at the back of her head. She wore a strapless knee-length baby-blue dress and was holding a bouquet of white flowers. Savannah followed next, beaming up at the crowd, taking measured steps forward. Then, it was Victoria’s turn. She didn’t walk so much as saunter. He wasn’t sure if she could even help it.

Then, once all three girls were in place, the minister asked the audience to rise, the quartet shifted to an instrumental version of Rachael Yamagata’s “Be Be Your Love,” and everyone seemed to still.

Liz appeared at the end of the aisle, like a dream wrapped in lace. It didn’t matter that they’d just spent the last four hours staring at her dress; the entire wedding party gasped at her entrance. The entire audience sucked in a collective breath.

She was stunning. Breathtaking. The most beautiful person there. Just as she should be.

Her dress was simple but elegant with thin multi-straps and an all-lace bodice that was entire see-through in the back. The bodice hugged her chest and then flowed out in a wave of lace to her feet before trailing behind her in a long train. A long veil was pinned into her hair. But the most beautiful part of all was her smile, filled with pure joy, as she walked down that aisle on the arm of her father.

Clay glanced to Brady and saw him swallow hard. He seemed to be fighting back tears, and his eyes were solely on his bride.

Liz finally reached them, her train swishing the rose petals down the aisle. Her eyes were bright but dry. She looked excited and ready…so ready. Like she was born for so much more than this moment yet exactly where she was supposed to be.

Clay’s eyes drifted from the bride as her father kissed Liz’s cheek and handed her over to Brady. Instead, he looked out at the crowd. He found Gigi seated alone, near the back. She wore a plum-purple sundress and smiled when his gaze landed on her. She had agreed to go to the wedding with him, even when he’d told her he had plans. He was glad they were just friends and had remained that way, despite both their idiotic attempts to move forward.

Then, his eyes swept from her to Andrea. She was in the second row, seated next to Bad Suit. Clay’s jaw clenched, but he reminded himself that she’d said they weren’t together. If she wasn’t claiming him, then that meant she was single and open and available.

Mine.

That was the only thought that clawed its way out of his mind.

His eyes locked with hers for a split second before she quickly averted her gaze back to the wedding.

Clay tuned back into the ceremony.

“Today, we have come together to witness the joining of two lives. The extraordinary has happened. They met each other, fell in love, and are finalizing it with their wedding today. Romance is fun, but true love is something above and beyond. It is their desire to love each other for the rest of their lives, and that is what we are celebrating here today. Repeat after me.”