by Amber Scott
“I’m leaving, Ashley,” Jace called out.
“Don’t you dare!”
“Don’t freak out. Mom roped me into lunch. I’m just grabbing a quick Starbucks.”
Tolerating one more boob tuck from her latest BFF was a little demanding on Millie’s nerves today, though. At least she knew for a fact that Jace and Tyler would be getting fitted any day now for tuxedos. Made her feel a little better. And Helen, Ashley’s mother, was next in line for the dressing room once Ashley decided which of the four Millie would wear.
She had an in. Now to find Jace a mate. Short of locating a time machine on eBay, she didn’t know what she could do to match him, though. A wedding shop certainly was the last place on earth she’d land him with love. And. . .
Millie slipped out of the brown dress and into the coral concoction Ashley held in front of her.
“Well, dear me, I can hardly believe my eyes,” Helen said from outside the door, sounding aghast. Please, not another dress. They’d never get out alive if Helen didn’t stop throwing more dresses over the door. The woman was psycho for taffeta.
Millie and Ashley exchanged looks. Ashley shrugged.
“Claire Byron!” Helen’s voice was farther away but the words carried distinctly through the thin dressing room door.
Millie froze, half-zipped into a dangerously ruffled dress. Few words felt like a quick smack to the face, but those two did it. Millie blinked. Had she heard right? No. She couldn’t have.
But her heart thumped up into her throat, and her mouth went dry. The only thing she could think of was getting the zipper up so she could leave the fitting room and see for herself. Claire?
“Careful, Millie. You’ll rip it,” Ashley scolded and took over. “There.”
Without a backward glance, Millie turned to leave.
“Hey, where are you going? I didn’t even get a chance to see it.” Ashley’s voice trailed Millie.
She lifted the skirt’s layered edge, faintly aware of her gaping mouth. At the end of the short hall, she spotted Helen, her back to her, sporting an enormous dress of her own and animatedly talking. Listening. Claire’s voice? It couldn’t be. It had to be.
It was.
Millie almost peed herself. Shit! Crap! Claire. The match she had royally screwed up how many years ago? Six. What was Claire doing in Arizona? She was a California girl. The room got a little blurry. Claire was here, Jace was her target, and ... no way.
Did she get to fix her total and complete foul-up? Oh, frack! AJ was going to be so happy. Millie stepped around Helen, trying not to beam too damn much. Claire might not hate her after all, though in truth, if she knew all that Millie’d messed with, she would. “Claire?”
Helen turned, revealing the slightly older, intelligent,,and sweet face all dressed in… what the hell? White? The air in her lungs hitched tight.
“Millie? Oh, wow. What a small world,” Claire said, her voice a tad higher than normal.
“Hiiiii.” Millie took in Claire’s dress. The veil. The ring. And the tinkle of the shop doorbell. Oh no. Jace!
“And Ashley? Look at you.” The two rushed into a hug. “When are you due?”
Millie spun on her heel. She had to get to Jace before he came around the second aisle, before he headed to the dressing room. Before he saw—no!
She stopped short, and all the years of wondering whether she could have done something differently in Claire’s match came tumbling down right on top of her heart. She was too late.
~~
Chapter Seven
Jace would be the first to admit he didn’t like Millie. Never had. Not six years ago. Not now. But she looked as though she was about to pass out. Jace set his coffee on the nearest counter and hurried over. “Hey,” he asked, taking her elbow. “You okay?”
Millie looked so pale she was almost gray.
“You need some air? Ashley, a little help?” Women and dresses. This wasn’t the eighteenth century.
Ashley rushed over, a bug-eyed look on her face. She was looking at him as though he’d caused Millie’s getting woozy. He loved his sister, but this pregnancy was making her crazy. Bossier than ever, and seriously crazy. Poor Lawrence.
“Millie, are you okay? Ashley, unzip her or something.”
Ashley frowned, nodded, and tore the zipper down. Millie’s tits spilled out. He’d never seen anyone faint before, but Millie did—the second her dress hit her hips. Jace barely caught her before she cracked her skull on the floor.
“Is she okay?” someone asked. A clerk, maybe.
His mom hurried to cover her chest up. Jace felt all sorts of awkwardness. Tits were tits, but the exact rosy color of Millie’s nipples would be burned into his poor brain. Great.
“Can you get her to the settee?” A long-fingered and delicate hand gestured, diamond glinting in the store’s lights.
Jace scooped up Millie, even though part of him resented it, and carried her to the ivory settee. He felt like an ass. Why did she rub him the wrong way so much? Hell, he knew why. He refused to think about why.
Claire.
One snapshot of perfection. Bad timing. Bad luck. Whatever he called it never seemed to change the fact that he would never be able to forget her. Or stop missing her.
He stepped out of his mom’s way, narrowly avoiding Ashley’s big belly and nearly knocking over the bride. “Shit. Sorry,” he said, side-stepping her skirt on the floor.
“Jace?”
His ears buzzed. Where did he know that voice from? Everything went slow motion as he stood up, looking for the source. He frowned. Shook his head. Every fiber of his body knew, possibly before his mind even registered the truth.
Claire.
Tall and beautiful and the breath knocked clean out of Jace’s gut. He wiped his hand over his forehead to cool the flash of heat there. She’d grown her hair out and the shiny locks tumbled around her shoulders. She stood looking up at him with emotion in her eyes. Emotion he didn’t want to see.
Pity? Was that it?
Worry?
Was she worried about him?
Jace stepped back and right into Ashley’s firm, round belly.
“Aren’t you Tyler’s Claire? From my wedding?” Ashley asked, moving around Jace.
“Yes.”
Jace reached to grab his sister, but Ashley was already walking past him and over to Claire. Jace stood rooted to the spot, unable to think or breathe. His mom and sister chatted with Claire, while Millie slowly sat up. His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Tyler. Oh, hell. Tyler was supposed to meet them here. He’d left a voicemail while waiting for his coffee. His eyes swept the area for where he’d left his cup, only to land back on Claire. Bare shoulders, and the rest of her decked out in white.
His eyes locked to hers.
Her mouth made a small “o.” Her hand went to her narrow waist, and a heartbreaking smile spread across her face. A rush of memories rushed past the tightness in his chest. Heartache came slamming back to Jace. This was not how it was supposed to happen.
No. Not like this.
Not with his mother and sister-in-law, not in a bridal shop—Claire wearing a wedding dress? Whatever breathing he lost, he regained in threefold. The air became hot. Jace forced a smile on his face and struggled to not hyperventilate.
Claire was getting married. Of course, she was getting married. Most of Jace’s darker What if? and Where is she now? moments showcased Claire as married. With children. The lighter ones had her single, waiting for the day they’d run into each other and—stupid to ever think it. Foolish fantasies.
Reality kicked him in the balls.
Ashley gave Claire a hug, and those bottomless eyes of hers moved away from Jace and onto Ashley and her very big belly. Jace couldn’t just stand there. Neither could he get the hell out of there. His mom would suspect, if not be outright offended, if he left. All this time. Six long years. His insides ached at memories. He couldn’t let Claire see how much he still felt for her.
/> Because he shouldn’t.
“When are you due?” Claire asked Ashley, her eyes darting to Jace’s.
Jace took a deep gulp of vanilla-scented air and held it for a count of ten. Hand on his neck, he let it out in a quiet hiss. He could do this. He had to do this. No leaving the scene, no wishful thinking—just smiles and warm wishes, the same way he’d greet any woman who never broke his heart.
His pulse calmed to a near-normal beat—normal being not a dull roar in his and throat—Jace stepped closer. Clutching her dress top, Millie sent him a goofy grin. What was she grinning like a lunatic about? If she started flirting, he didn’t know what he’d do. Avoid his sister even more than he had since the chick latched onto Ashley.
At his mom’s insistence, Claire turned for them. Her gaze caught Jace’s in the three-way mirror. His head spun. How dare she still look so good? So stunning?
“Hey, you,” she said from the reflection, a small quake in her voice that could only have been in Jace’s imagination.
He sent her a nod. When she came over, her arms were open.
“That’s Jace,” Millie said in a rush. “Not Tyler.”
“Uh, yeah. I can tell them apart.” Claire could hardly reach his hands for her wide skirt, but she clasped them tightly. “How are you?”
Jace returned her air hug. His mind drank up the feel of her hands. Soft, long-fingered. A pointy rock of a ring. “I’m great. How’ve you been?”
She shrugged. The dress accentuated her long neck and graceful collarbone. Her skin gleamed in the bright light. Jace had touched those shoulders, had come so damn close to tasting that skin. And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of reversing the clock six pathetic years ago to do it differently.
Why here, and why now? He was taking his mom to meet his now serious girlfriend in less than an hour for lunch. And Tyler would be here any minute. Disaster. The day would only end up in a complete disaster.
“Can someone zip me up?” Millie said, a little on the loud side.
Ashley and his mom rushed to help. Claire laced her hand into his and, mammoth skirt be damned, pulled Jace into a tight hug. Jace didn’t know what to do. His heart weighted to the ground with regret. He breathed in Claire’s scent and wrapped his arms around her tightly before anyone saw.
How could she smell the same—after all this time? How could Jace remember it? Part of him wanted to hold tighter, to never let go. To fight. Fight like he should have years ago. He should have found her. He should have at least tried to fulfill the promise they’d made in the grass, listening to the neighborhood awaken.
He hadn’t. She never called, and never emailed.
He’d taken the hint.
“You look incredible,” Claire whispered against Jace’s neck. “You haven’t changed at all.”
Her breasts pressed against Jace’s chest. She touched the hair at his neck with one hand. Tickles raced over Jace’s skin, and the world might have disappeared. But Millie’s closing zipper acted as a gong.
Their arms dropped. The embrace collapsed, and Jace stepped away in time to blink back wetness in his eyes and school his features.
“When is the big day, Claire?” Helen asked.
“April first,” Claire said, turning to face the older woman. “You should all come.”
Was she serious? Did she hate him enough to want him to witness her wedding?
“Oh, that would be just wonderful,” Helen said. “Tyler will be so happy for you. Why, that’s less than a month from now, though, so I’d better check my calendar.”
“Of course,” Claire said, her voice even now. “And how is Tyler and everyone else?”
Jace kept his eyes on his sister’s forehead, a nice, safe place. He counted the three lines there over and again. Millie sidled up to him with that grin on her face. It took all he had for him not to groan and walk away.
“Tyler’s great, just great. There really is so much to catch up on.” The dress rustled as his mom swayed and gestured. “Oh, I know! Why don’t you join us for lunch, Claire? We have a table at Monti’s waiting for us just as soon as Ashley finishes picking her dresses.”
Jace’s gut cinched a knot. Lunch? Lunch. Did no one else see how wrong an idea that one was? Tyler would not be happy to see Claire...well...happy. Why would he? Tyler had been heartbroken over Claire. Almost as heartbroken as Jace shouldn’t still be.
Shit.
“Lunch?” Claire sounded dumbfounded.
“Yes, oh, you must. We’re meeting up with Jace’s new friend, Belinda.”
“Bels,” Jace automatically corrected. They’d been dating for months. It was her mother’s way of protesting what Bels actually was. And sitting across from both Bels, the woman who wanted to shop sofas and rings with Jace, plus Claire, the woman who occupied the place in Jace’s heart that Bels wanted to own.
Disaster. World-class disaster. Terrible idea. And yet, as he watched Claire’s face, he hoped for a sign of jealousy. Maybe she’d want to meet his girlfriend about as much as he’d want to catch the garter.
“I’d love to,” Claire said, loud enough that Jace’s meager, “Kind of short notice,” went unnoticed by all.
“Perfect. All we need to do, then, is find a dress for me,” Helen said and dragged Ashley away to do just that.
“Holy crap, do I have to pee!” Millie exclaimed and rushed off.
Leaving Jace standing far too close to Claire, and far too alone with her.
“I won’t cause any problems, I promise,” Claire said. “It’s just that ... well ... it’s been so long. And I,” she said, pausing to swallow and meet Jace’s stare. “I’ve missed you.”
Whatever resolve Jace had to house his heart under lock and key threatened to unlatch. Claire touched his arm. “You look amazing, really, Jace.”
“Thank you,” Jace said. “You look like a bride.” He’d have snatched the words back if he could. Still. They were so true, so glaringly obvious, and the statement penetrated some of his haze of longing.
With a glance down, Claire half-chuckled and half-gasped. “Yeah. I guess I do. I wish I felt more like one.”
Jace frowned slightly, resisting the urge to ask what she meant. He didn’t want to know. No, that was a lie. He did want to know—too much so. So he shut his mouth.
“I suppose I should take it off.” Claire shifted and the skirt swished, hitting his legs.
Visions of Claire standing in a pool, undressed, flashed in Jace’s mind. God, but he wanted to help her right out of that dress. What? No. She was engaged! He was in a relationship. After this long, she shouldn’t have any power over Jace.
Dangerous power.
“Yeah. I should ... go.” With a quick smile and a shrug, he stepped back from Claire, but his eyes could not break away from the intense gaze locked onto his. Her look seemed to ask a million questions and beg for a single hope.
Instead, he almost went toward her. To hold her close. To cup her face into his hands, to kiss her so thoroughly that her world spun sideways. That it branded her heart forever.
Maybe she was not a good kisser.
Maybe all this time, he’d built up too many fantasies in his head. Claire looked as though she had something to say. He waited. Rooted to where he was standing.
“Just this last one, Jace, and I swear we’ll be done,” Ashley said and walked past, grabbing his arm.
Like a puppy, Jace followed his drill sergeant of a sister back toward the dressing rooms. He could feel Claire watching him walk away. It killed him. Just as he gave in to glance back, the swish of Claire’s dress told him she was already walking away, too.
~~
Chapter Eight
Claire didn’t want him to go. The curve of his posture. Those wide shoulders. Even his eyes were better than any memory had served. She spun away, hand to her forehead. What was she doing? She was getting married. In less than thirty days, she was walking down the aisle and seeing the end of a very long engagement and months of arrangeme
nts. She would become Oliver’s wife, take his name, join his family’s firm, and begin her life. The life she’d hand selected.
No more would she waffle over who she was or what she wanted.
She knew.
If she didn’t know by now, she never would.
Thank God her mother hadn’t insisted on coming today. What a disaster that could have been. Eve Byron had a pit-bull grip on her daughter’s wedding arrangements and there was no way she wouldn’t sniff out a history here.
Meeting Jace like this had to be some sort of test. Her greatest wish, only regret, and one desire, lay before her feet like truth or dare—Are you sure?
She would not fail. She couldn’t. Too much was at risk. Her parents would never forgive her. Oliver would never forgive her. They’d already gotten the marriage license, she’d quit the WRC, and her dress was perfect.
She shut the dressing room door on herself, glad for the distance between the bridal room and main hall of fitting rooms. She shouldn’t have come alone. All she wanted to do was follow Jace and explain. Tell him why she never called, detail why she was getting married, why it was the right decision, and why they could never have worked out, no matter how much they felt for each other. No matter how much they still wanted each other.
Attraction.
Base attraction tied to memory, colored by time and regret.
She wanted to follow him to say that she was sorry. But if she followed him, she would do something that she couldn’t take back. She’d already hugged him tight, held his hand like a schoolgirl needing to stand next to her crush during the Pledge of Allegiance, as though sheer nearness could satisfy the sudden hole of need that gaped open upon seeing him.
Claire unzipped the dress, so thankful that she’d declined help with the hundred buttons.
What had she been thinking, agreeing to lunch? She wasn’t thinking clearly; that was obvious. She probably wouldn’t until she got some space between her and Jace. If only one grin hadn’t struck her right in the heart.
