Struck from the Record (27 page)

“You did,” she whispered, as if finally realizing it.

Clay helped her into the carriage and then sat down next to her. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and then laced their fingers together. She nuzzled into him as they set off to trot around the park at twilight.

“Clay…” she said after a few minutes of silence.

“Mmhmm?”

“This thing with us…it’s real?”

“Very.”

“And…we’re starting over?” she murmured.

“I don’t want to start over. Starting over means we forget everything we went through to get to where we are, and I won’t do that. We had an unconventional relationship for a long time, and it worked for us.”

She tensed under him.

“But that doesn’t mean we didn’t have a relationship at all. You were always important to me and always my girlfriend. It just took our unconventional relationship not working anymore to really show me how much you mean to me.”

“So…we’re
not
unconventional anymore?”

“Does this look unconventional to you?” he asked, sweeping his hand out at the park before them.

“No,” she said. “I just mean…there aren’t any other girls?” Her eyes widened hesitantly, as if she hated asking it and hated even more how much she feared his answer.

Truly, he just couldn’t believe that she didn’t believe him. He stared at her in surprise and bewilderment. Of course, it made sense for her to question him. She probably wanted it all in writing. And he’d be happy to put it on paper for her.

But his hesitancy was a bad idea. She seemed to have misread where his thoughts had drifted.

“I see…so not that different,” she said, dejected.

“No.” He grasped her chin and made her look up at him again. “There is no one else for
either
of us.”

“You sure about that? You didn’t seem so sure.”

“I’m sure. I just couldn’t fathom how I’d want anyone else.”

“Well, you wanted someone else all the time before. So, why is now different?” She straightened. “Why should I believe that it’s not going to be a game or a revolving door of women like it was before?”

He blew out harshly and ran a hand back through his hair. “I can tell you over and over that it’s just you and that I don’t want to be with anyone else, but you won’t believe me until you realize it’s not happening. I haven’t been with another woman in months. I stopped sleeping around when I realized that sex wasn’t enough.”

Her mouth popped open, and she quickly tried to hide it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…what I want is you. I don’t miss the nameless sex. I want the connection that I have with you, and I am no longer satisfied without it.” He brushed her hair off her face and dragged her closer to him once more. “I don’t want what we had before. I want more. I want you.”

“You figured all of that out in a few months?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yes. Didn’t you? You started dating Bad Suit looking for a relationship. The relationship you wanted with me. Have you been satisfied without that connection?”

She shook her head. “No, but I didn’t go looking for it between someone else’s legs.”

Clay rasped a frustrated sigh. “No, you didn’t have to. You already
had
before we broke up. Come off of your high horse, Andrea. Our relationship spun out of control partly because of your actions. You left me that night, breaking the rules.”

“As if you ever cared for the rules,” she said, crossing her arms.

“You know I did.”

“God,” she groaned. She leaned forward and braced her elbows on her knees, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t want to argue about this. I’m ruining the perfect weekend.”

“You’re not ruining our weekend.” He rubbed gentle circles into her back. “We have issues. We’re going to need to talk about them at some point.”

She peeked up at him through watery eyes. “The day I saw you in the hospital, I wanted to die. You brushed it off so easily that I’d had nothing to do with it, but I completely blamed myself. I shouldn’t have left with Asher. I shouldn’t have been doing any of that shit I was doing, but I was scared that you’d freak out…that we’d shatter. I should have just talked to you.”

“Hey,” he said, pulling her back into his arms. “First, you know that wasn’t your fault. No need to keep beating yourself up about ancient history. Second, you could have talked to me about what you wanted until you were blue in the face, and I wouldn’t have listened. In one ear, out the other. As much as I hated the time apart, we needed that to recover and to figure out what we wanted. I was and am a total ass.” He chuckled. “That hasn’t changed. I just decided I couldn’t be me without you.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, and she nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The carriage dropped them off in front of the Plaza hotel where Clay had booked one of their more extravagant suites. He helped Andrea out of the carriage and held her all the way upstairs. He knew they had more to talk about, but it would happen over time. He never expected everything to resolved overnight.

They took a private elevator to their suite and entered the incredible space. The decor looked as if they had just stepped into the royal court of Louis XV with gilded frames, chic furniture, a grand piano, and crystal chandeliers. It had a state-of-the-art kitchen and a dining room to seat a dozen.

There were three-bedrooms and three-bath including a library with hand-selected books, an en suite gym, cherry-red wood office, and a white marble bathroom with a two-person walk-in shower and Jacuzzi tub. But the master suite was stunning with a walk-in closet big enough to hold Andrea’s clothes back home and a massive bed that they’d already spent a considerable amount of time in.

Clay took her hand and pulled her toward the balcony. His favorite part. Before them was the most coveted view of Fifth Avenue and Central Park. He could even see the famous Pulitzer Fountain from where he stood. It was one of the most expensive views in the city.

Clay wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head. She leaned back into him. Their earlier conversation forgotten in the moment.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” Andrea admitted.

“Yeah, I did.”

“The Maxwells and their big gestures.”

“It’s not just that. Though…it is that,” he amended carefully. “I just wanted it to be real for you. I wanted us to be real to you.”

She sighed. “It’s always been real for me, Clay.” She turned around and faced him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I wasn’t pretending to enjoy your company. I wasn’t pretending to love your family. I wasn’t pretending to love you.”

“I wasn’t pretending any of those things either. Well, except for your family.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. I just want to make things right by you, Andrea.” He bent down, so his lips were nearly brushing hers. “I want to make you remember all the good times and forget all the times we fucked up.”

His tongue darted out and traced a line across her full bottom lip. She shivered in his arms.

“But our ten-year relationship is just the foundation to the building I plan to raise.”

He pulled her flush against him now and let his lips fall down onto hers. She didn’t resist. Not one bit. Her fingers tangled up through his dark blond hair as he tasted her sweet lips.

They had kissed since the wedding, but it was nothing like this. She hadn’t been this open or vulnerable. She certainly hadn’t been needy or demanding with her kisses, like she was rushing toward now. And he didn’t mind in the least.

Her hand slid down the front of his shorts, and he stiffened under her eager touch.

“Fuck, woman.” Clay reached out and roughly grabbed her shoulders. “I’m trying to be all romantic here, and you’re making me want to just fuck you into next Tuesday.”

“At this point, I wouldn’t mind either,” she said, her voice breathy and seductive.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He’d brought her here to seduce her, but somehow, the tables had turned, and she was fucking seducing him. It was hot as fucking hell.

Her hands went to work, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them to his ankles. Then she pointed to the chair overlooking the park.

“Sit.”

He obeyed and, without preamble, she climbed on top of him. She settled herself against his cock and then sheathed herself around him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her closer.

“You’re perfect for me.”

She smirked lazily as she started riding him. “And don’t forget it.”

Chapter 26

FIX IT

The next few weeks, Clay was intensely overworked.

He’d barely had time to breathe, let alone see Andrea. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be this overworked and not enjoy it. He wanted to be working a nine-to-five, getting off and heading over to Andrea’s to spend time with her. Instead, he was lucky if he could leave by midnight.

Andrea seemed understanding, but he worried that his past actions would be his downfall. Would he ever be able to escape that look in her eyes, the one that showed that he might be doing something wrong? Wondering if he was he at the office late for some other reason?

She never said those things. But it was like he could see her hesitancy.

Before, they had never had any of this doubt because they’d had an understanding. Now, she was suspicious because, without the understanding, she had nothing to guard her heart with. He would see it all over her face when he came over to her place at night.

It was almost the end of July when he finally left court at a semi-decent time and realized quite unexpectedly that he had the rest of the evening to himself. He drove to Andrea’s gallery, parked in the back lot, next to her Mercedes, and then he took the stairs to the back door. He entered her office. It was immaculate. Basically, the opposite of his space—all soft, floral, and girlie but still modern and chic. It had Andrea written all over it.

“Hey,” she said, coming out of the door that led to the gallery space. “What are you doing here?”

She was smoothing out her navy pencil skirt when she entered, but all he could focus on was the white V-neck shirt she had tucked into it. She must have been wearing one killer push-up bra because her tits looked amazing.

She snapped her fingers at his face.

He blinked and then grinned. “I came for a tour.”

She shut the door in his face. “You can have one when it’s open.”

He grabbed her around the middle and planted his lips on her. “How about now?”

“Nope.”

He sucked on her bottom lip, dragging it into his mouth. His hands slid to her ass. “How about now?”

“How about…the night I open?”

“I’ll see it first?” His lips went across her cheek and ever so slowly down her neck.

“Mm…hmm.”

“Okay,” he said, abruptly pulling away and leaving her standing there with her mouth slightly open, looking dazed. He smacked her ass. “I’m taking you out. Let’s get going.”

“You’re trouble, Clay Maxwell,” she growled.

“That I am.”

He grabbed her hand, and then they walked back out to his Porsche. He held the door open for her, and she slipped into the passenger’s side. Then, he jogged back to his side, sat down, and revved the engine.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see. Have you decided when you’re opening?” he asked, deftly changing the conversation, as he drove them away from the gallery.

“Labor Day weekend.”

“So soon? That’s only a month away.”

“I know. But I think I have everything I need. I hired an event planner for the occasion, and we just have to make it happen.”

“You will. I know it.”

He pulled off the main road, wove through a few back neighborhoods, and then stopped in front of a historic brick townhouse.

“What’s this?” Andrea asked.

“Just something I’m looking into. I thought, since I finally had some time off, I could take you with me to come look at it.”

“You’re thinking of moving?” she asked. Andrea cautiously exited the car.

“Something like that,” he muttered.

She stilled. She had a half-smile on her face, but there was clearly something wrong. “What? Looking for a new bachelor pad?”

The joke was there, but it was riddled with underlying truth. “Why don’t you take a look inside?”

“What’s wrong with your other place?”

“Besides the fact that you won’t step foot in it?” he countered, walking around the car to her.

And she hadn’t. Not one foot. He’d even gotten new sheets. Not that she seemed to care. She hadn’t been there since she had stormed out on him the night Gigi had come downstairs.

“I…would. You haven’t asked.”

“You would, but you wouldn’t like to,” he corrected her.

“There are a lot of memories there,” she said. “Not all of them are that pleasant.”

“Like Gigi coming down the stairs?”

She closed her eyes and blew out through her nose. “Like Gigi coming downstairs.”

“Are you ever going to forgive me for that?”

She opened her eyes and answered, “I do. I do forgive you for that. I know nothing happened, but it’s hard, Clay. It’s hard when we had ten years of a relationship that was based on an understanding…not trust. I want to trust you. I want to go back to your place. I want to accept Gigi as your friend. I just…I’m not entirely there yet.”

“Okay,” he said, not pushing her. “Well, maybe this will help. Maybe if we have a place without memories, it’ll help.”

“You’re probably right. I’m just letting my own insecurities rule me. I’m working on it.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Can I show you the place now?”

She nodded. “Please.”

Clay punched in the code that the real estate agent had given him into the lockbox. The key dropped out of the bottom, and he let them both in.

Andrea walked in first to the partially furnished townhouse. The agency liked to put enough furniture into the space so that people could get a realistic view of what it looked like. Or at least that was what the realtor had told him when he asked.

“Hmm,” Andrea said. She turned in a circle in the foyer and looked three stories up to where a skylight cast afternoon light into the room.