All I've Waited For

by Lindsay Harrel

  He drew in a sharp breath at her phrasing. At times, he almost felt guilty for using Claire. But then he remembered this was what she wanted too. And they’d be happy together. Comfortable. She was gorgeous and business savvy and kind. What else could he really want in a life partner?

  “Okay, then.” Flipping to a new page on her clipboard, Ashley studied it. A grimace passed over her face, but she quickly recovered. “What is the moment you knew you loved your fiancé?”

  “That one is quite deep to begin, isn’t it?” Claire’s voice remained strong.

  “Yes, sorry,” Ashley said. “Guess it gets right to the heart of the matter. Literally speaking.”

  Derek watched his fiancée, curious how she’d answer. It’s not like they were exactly telling people they weren’t really in love. But Claire wasn’t a liar either.

  Claire met his gaze. “I was engaged to someone else for three years, and when things didn’t work out with him, I thought I’d never find someone else to share my life with.”

  She was being way too generous in her tale. After the way the guy had left Claire on the eve of their wedding because he’d received his “dream job” in New York, her ex was lucky Derek didn’t know him or he’d be sporting a permanently broken nose.

  “That’s terrible. I’m sorry.” And Ashley really looked it. How did she do that—care so deeply about everyone, even those she barely knew? It had always amazed him.

  But he wasn’t thinking about Ashley right now. He wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

  Claire continued. “It was a difficult season, but when I met Derek, I knew there was something different about him. He was steady, true. Someone I could count on. And that’s when I knew he was someone I could marry.”

  Ah, he’d seen what she’d done there—avoided the idea of love altogether.

  Ashley seemed to swallow hard. “And you, Derek? When did you know …” Her voice wavered.

  Why did she seem uncomfortable? That didn’t make any sense at all. Neither did the tension—almost angry in nature—that had rolled off of her in waves last Sunday at the Baker family dinner. If anyone should be out of sorts, it’d be him. He was the one who had loved her, after all. The one who had asked her on a date. The one who had been stood up for said date.

  But he was fine. Cool as a cucumber and all that. Love was just an illusion, temporary, fleeting. He had much bigger things to worry about.

  Derek considered how to phrase what he felt for Claire, but at that moment, her phone rang. She glanced at it and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” He snuck a peek at the phone, where Claire’s aunt’s face flashed on the screen.

  “I don’t know.” She answered the call. “Salut, Tante. Quoi de neuf?” Then she stood and headed for the front of the showroom.

  He’d picked up a lot of French while living overseas, but when two French people got to speaking, it was usually way too fast for him to interpret. Being as he was only hearing half of the conversation, it was nearly impossible.

  “I hope everything’s okay.” Ashley’s voice revealed her genuine concern. She played with her pen, clicking the end in and out in rapid succession. Her and that adorable nervous habit.

  Without thinking, he reached across the table and stilled her hand.

  Her eyes shot to his, igniting a connection he’d thought broken a long time ago—the one he’d read way too much into once before. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Derek removed his hand and settled it back onto his side of the table. The silence between them swayed and bulged until it reached epic proportions.

  As Claire’s voice rose and fell, she paced the front of the room. He should go check on her, but something kept him rooted to his seat.

  Claire hung up the phone and walked back, one hand on her forehead. “I have some troubling news.”

  “What’s wrong?” He stood.

  “Grand-père has fallen and broken his hip.” Though she didn’t shed a tear, her chin trembled a bit. She’d already watched the beginnings of dementia take hold in him the last few years, so this had to be a rough blow to think of him in physical pain too. “He will be all right, but needs me to come home right away to help run the vineyard during his recovery.”

  “Of course you should go.” He pulled her into a hug. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

  A deep breath shuddered through her. “Me too. Thankfully, his break is not terrible. My aunt said that despite being in his seventies, he is in good health and there’s a chance recovery from surgery could be as little as four to six weeks.” Claire pulled back to look up at him. “Of course I will be sad if he can’t be here for the wedding, but I want to proceed with our plans.”

  “If you think that’s best.” Though how she was going to plan a long-distance wedding while working full time, he had no clue. But if anyone could do it, Claire Boivin could.

  “I do.” Stepping out of his arms, she pivoted toward the table, grabbed the binder, and pressed it into Derek’s grasp. “And I will need you to work with Ashley in my stead.”

  Across the table, Ashley visibly stiffened.

  The binder might as well have been a twenty-pound weight in his hands. “Come again?”

  Claire patted his arm. “You can do this. All the details are here, but if there’s anything you want to change, I give you permission to do so. And Ashley will help with those things I have not yet thought of.”

  “What? No. This isn’t … I need to help my dad with the vineyard while I’m here.” And there was no way he could be around Ashley that much. Claire provided a nice buffer, but without her, he couldn’t even imagine the awkwardness.

  She tugged him away from Ashley’s listening ears. “Derek,” Claire said in a low voice. “I know that is important, but if you want to marry me and join our companies, help our families right now, we need to plan a spectacular wedding. No expenses spared. Otherwise, Grand-père will suspect the reasons we are marrying so soon and might deny my help.”

  In other words, he’d refuse to give up the reins of his company, even to his own detriment. Claire had confided in Derek about how the long hours, the pressure of caring for the vineyard that had been in their family for centuries, had worsened Marcel Boivin’s mental state. And while some might suspect Claire’s motives, Derek knew her only true desire was to take the weight from her grandfather’s shoulders, to give him the stress-free retirement he deserved.

  If only Marcel wasn’t so old-fashioned as to think Claire needed a man to help her “handle the business.” But his stipulations had always been clear, and even with his encroaching dementia—which he was far too proud to admit to—he’d never consent to their marriage if he thought Claire planned to divorce after a year or two.

  That wasn’t their plan, of course. Much as he might not believe in lasting love, Derek had every intention of honoring his marriage vows.

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. “You can count on me.”

  Claire placed a hand on his cheek and smiled. “And that is why I’m prepared to tie my life to yours. You are the most trustworthy man I know. I am confident you will not fail us.”

  Derek’s chest may not swell with love at Claire’s words, but they filled him with some sort of peace all the same.

  Until his eyes swung toward Ashley, who wrote something on her clipboard. The light from the sun setting outside the window framed her, making her hair glow like some ethereal being.

  He forced down the acid clawing at his throat and gripped the binder until his fingers hurt. Leaning over, he kissed Claire on the temple. “Do you need me to drive you to the airport?”

  “Non. You are needed here. I will ask one of your sisters or call a taxi. But is it all right if I drive the car back to the vineyard? You can find a ride back?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Merci.” She stepped toward Ashley and cleared her throat.

  Ash looked up from her notes. “Everything okay?”

  “Unfortunately, I need to leave
town for a while. I’m not sure when I will return. Derek will handle the planning while I am gone. I trust this will not be a problem?”

  “N-no. Of course not.” Ashley sounded about as sure as Derek.

  “Wonderful. Please do not hesitate to call me if you do need something.” Claire tapped her nails together. “I have purchased a wedding dress at the boutique in town, and they’ve assured me it will be ready for alterations in three to four weeks. Other than that, I will trust you both to do wonders in the short time.”

  “Of course.” Ashley stood and held out her hand, which Claire shook. “Derek and I will make sure you both have the best wedding in the world.”

  Yes, they would. Working with the woman he used to love to plan a wedding with the woman he pretended to love was a small price to pay for a secure future for his entire family.

  It would be simple. Derek just had to keep his eyes on the prize.

  And off of Ashley Baker.

  This was a disaster.

  Thirty minutes into planning Derek’s wedding without Claire there to assist, and his one-word answers were about to drive Ashley batty.

  She ran her tongue over her teeth and exhaled slowly as she studied her checklist. “Do you have the guest list finalized yet? We really need to send the invites out ASAP.”

  At Derek’s blank look, she sighed. “Remember when we met last week? You guys picked out the invitations you wanted, and the printer did a rush order. But I need to forward the guest list so we can get them addressed.”

  “I’m not sure if it’s finalized yet.” Derek checked his watch for the millionth time and shifted in his seat.

  Did the man really want to be out of her presence so badly? Why?

  One thing was certain. Their friendship had clearly meant more to her than it had to him.

  “Use that anger to make him sorry.” Aunt Jules’s words from last weekend ran through her mind. Ashley had every right to be angry, and in some ways, she was. But mostly, there was a yawning emptiness where their friendship had once taken up space in her heart—and oh, if she could only fill it again.

  A sound stirred from Kyle’s office in the back. He’d yet to emerge from his own client meeting. When he did, she didn’t want him to see how stressed this whole thing was making her. She just needed to stay focused on what she wanted—and that was a phenomenal event that would prove to him she should get the business.

  All she had to do was forget who the event was for and everything would be hunky-dory.

  Ashley reached for the binder sitting open in front of Derek. “May I?”

  Without a word, he slid it across the table. “Be my guest. I have no idea what that thing holds or how it’s organized.”

  “I gathered as much.” Shooting him a wry grin, she started to flip through the hundreds of sheet-protected magazine pages and printed lists. Finally, her eyes stopped on what she needed. “Here’s the list. Can you text or call Claire and make sure it’s the final one? And get her to send it digitally?”

  “Sure.” He didn’t move to write it down.

  Oh brother. Ashley picked up her phone and shot off a text reminder.

  Derek’s phone buzzed on the table and he glanced down at it, quirking a brow when he saw her message. “Thanks.”

  “Nice to know your phone works after all.” Ooo, she should not have said that. Before she could gauge his reaction, Ashley hurried on. “Next, let’s talk flowers.”

  “I’m sorry, but is there any way I can just … I don’t know, leave that with you, and then you can call or text if you have specific questions?” Derek ran a hand along the back of his neck. “You’ll probably get way more information from that binder than from me. I have no idea what Claire wants.” He grimaced. “For the wedding, I mean.”

  “Didn’t you guys talk about this?”

  “I can’t be the only groom in the world who doesn’t care about the wedding details.”

  “No, but usually the bride has talked the groom’s ear off about them enough that he has some clue.” What was their story, anyway? It hadn’t escaped her notice that when she’d asked Claire about love, the woman had responded with the moment she’d known she wanted to marry Derek. She hadn’t said the L-word at all.

  But marriage and love obviously went hand in hand. She was reading way too much into this. Of course Derek and Claire were in love.

  Pressing her hand against her chest, Ashley cleared her throat. “Forget I said anything. I’ll take the binder and see what I can gather from it. But there are still a lot of things I’ll need you for.”

  “Like what? How much time is it all going to take?”

  Argh, this man. When had he become so difficult? This was his wedding, after all. “I’ll probably need you for a handful of appointments, like menu tasting with the caterer, final music selection, a walk-through of the venue, et cetera.” She clicked her pen, then stopped, remembering Derek’s reaction earlier—the warmth of his hand on hers, even for the briefest of moments. Ashley set the pen down. “I’ll help guide you, if you’d like. But I can’t make those final decisions for you. Well, I could, but I’m willing to bet Claire and I would make different decisions about nearly everything.”

  “Why do you say that?” And there, for a second, she saw the old Derek peeking through from behind his eyes—curious about her life, interested in what she had to say. But before she could speak, he waved a hand in the air. “Never mind. Just text me the dates when you get the appointments set up, and I’ll make sure I’m available. We’ll do what we have to, to make this happen.”

  Goodness, he made it sound like a business transaction. “I’ll make it as painless as possible, I promise.”

  His frown said he wasn’t so sure.

  “All right, I think we’re done for the day.” She closed the binder and stood.

  “Great.” He followed suit and stuck his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Sounds good.” Picking up the binder, she turned, then paused. “Wait. Did Claire take the car?”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  “So you need a ride home.”

  “I’ll call my dad or stepmom. They can come get me. Or I can walk.”

  “It’s like five miles to your house.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “And it’s already seven.”

  “Not a huge deal.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t walk all that way in the dark on that poorly lit two-lane road. That’s not safe at all. I’ll take you. We’ll just have to walk to my apartment first to pick up my car.”

  Her stomach growled, and an idea popped into her head. No, she shouldn’t suggest it. But why not? Somewhere inside this uptight guy was her friend, and if things stayed like this between them, she was never going to be able to focus enough to put on a fabulous wedding. Maybe she could eventually get around to asking him why he’d never returned her calls. “Want to get dinner at the Frosted Cake and eat on the beach?”

  His jaw slackened, and he looked away from her for a moment.

  Ashley took a step closer. “For old times’ sake?” Ugh, her voice reeked of timid desperation. She should leave well enough alone, but she felt the need of it down to her toes. If she could just get him away from all this, maybe they could rediscover the friendship she’d once cherished more than almost anything in the world.

  “Okay. For a bit.”

  She had to keep herself from throwing her arms around his neck in a triumphant hug. This was a step in the right direction. No, it couldn’t be the same between them as it once was—not like it was from her perspective, anyway. But since love had been entirely one-sided, she’d just make sure to keep hers in check.

  Ashley refused to embarrass herself with obvious unrequited emotions again. This time around, she’d conceal her feelings so well that no one in town would suspect them.

  Then maybe she could finally move on from this pull he had on her.

  After she
tucked the binder and her other papers into the desk in her office, she led him out the front door and onto Main Street just as the streetlamps popped on. They maneuvered through the North Village, which was chock-full of adorable artisan storefronts like her Aunt Louise’s Oil Me This, Carlotta’s Clothing Boutique, and Fleur de Lee, the florist shop where Ashley liked to do all her wedding business. When Ashley was younger, a few blocks of the South Village had housed the majority of businesses in Walker Beach, but the downtown had expanded, stretching farther north in recent years.

  “Wow, is that all damage from the earthquake?” Derek pointed at a few stores with boarded-up windows and crooked signs. Across the street, the old library building still sported a tarp over its roof.

  “It hit the North Village particularly hard.” Ashley adjusted the strap of her purse. “Some of the houses up in the hills got it pretty bad as well. And Ben’s inn, though he’s been able to reopen since then.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned that.” A pause. “His fiancée seems nice.” Finally, Derek’s voice held something other than rigid militarism.

  They crossed into the part of town designated as the South Village. There wasn’t much foot traffic, but most shops had closed up for the night. A man and his daughter passed them on the sidewalk, forcing Derek to the side for just a second. As he skimmed past her, their arms brushed, sending a jolt to Ashley’s spine.

  “She’s great. We’re good friends.” Ashley quickened her steps. “Did he tell you they’re getting married later this summer?”

  “In all the ruckus the other night, I didn’t hear that. Let me guess. You’re planning their wedding too?”

  “How did you know?” Ashley stuck her tongue out at him, grinning when her actions elicited the smallest of smirks.

  “Because Ashley Baker can’t say no to save her life.”

  “Maybe she just doesn’t want to.”

  “Nah, I think it’s a compulsion.”

  The truth of his comment stung, though she wasn’t sure why.

  They arrived at the Frosted Cake, and Derek opened the door, indicating she should go in first. Murmuring her thanks, Ashley stepped into the diner, greeted by swirls of delicious down-home cooking. Once upon a time, this had been merely a bakery, but its owner had expanded the menu without bothering to change its name. The bright and cheery place was booming, not unusual even for a Wednesday night such as this, and there was a line to get seating in the dining room. Thankfully, the To Go counter didn’t appear quite so busy.