Beach Wedding

by Cruise, Bella

“What?”

  “It’s perfect!” Pixie exclaims. “Lulu doesn’t want to do it, I can tell, and she’d probably rip my dress or spill something all over me right before I have to go down the aisle. But you’ll take care of me, won’t you?” Her face turns hopeful. “You won’t let Marcie push me around.”

  “I… don’t know what to say.” I stare at her, but her expression is so pitiful, it would take a heart of stone to deny her now. “Are you sure you don’t want someone else? Someone you’ve known longer than a month,” I add. “One of your real friends.”

  “They’re not my friends,” Pixie says, sounding sad. “I never even liked Lulu, but they hired her to be on the show because her daddy is so rich. And the rest of them can’t wait to see me fall flat on my face. You heard them out there. There’s nobody.”

  “You have Clyde,” I try to cheer her up. “And who needs those bitches anyway? We’ll be just fine on our own.”

  “So you’ll do it?” she beams.

  I exhale. “Sure, why not? I’m going to be there every step of the way anyway.”

  “Yay!” Pixie scrambles up and hugs me. “This is going to be so much fun, and you look way better in pink anyhow.”

  I laugh, even as I wonder what I’ve just gotten myself into. But the bride always comes first, and if this is what it takes to make Pixie happy, then it’s my job to play along. “Atta girl. Now, enough sitting around and smudging your mascara. Let’s go kick this wedding’s butt!”

  Pixie pulls back the curtain and bounces towards the main salon, all smiles again. “Lulu? I’ve got news for you. You’re fired!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You did what?”

  Marcie throws a fit when we tell her I’m going to be Pixie’s maid-of-honor. Not because she hates the idea, but because Pixie asked me when the cameras weren’t rolling. Now, to make up for the grievous error, she sets up a back porch BBQ dinner for Pixie to formally ask in front of Nick, Neil, Enrique and the rest. “You guys can hang out with Clyde and the best man, toasting the big occasion, blah blah, all the best of friends.” She says, checking her schedule once we’re back in Pelican Key Cove.

  “Fine,” I sigh, resigning myself to the glare of the spotlight. “Who’s he got, anyway? One of his band-mates?”

  “Please,” Marcie snorts. “They’re still tripping off drugs they took in the Seventies. No, he’s asked that friend of yours, Luke.”

  I freeze. “Luke? I didn’t know they were friends.”

  Marcie laughs. “What’s friendship got to do with it? I filmed them bonding up a ladder, fixing the mansion roof. Great manly stuff, the audience will love it. We’re going to be filming at his place, mix things up a little. Do you have the address?”

  I shake my head.

  She hits a few keys on her cell phone. “Sent. See you there at six! And try to wear something cute,” she adds a passing shot on her way out.

  Luke.

  I’ve been trying not to think about him. Trying, and failing badly. Coming clean to him the other night, I was hoping to feel some kind of resolution – a sign to let me know whether I was free to move on, but instead, I’m still as much in a tangle as I ever was. Only now, with no secrets left between us, I can’t help but feel a treacherous hope pulling me back to him.

  He could have been angry. He could have pushed me away. But instead, he seemed to genuinely understand what I was going through. I never dreamed of being granted his forgiveness, but now, it makes me wonder.

  If we could move on from the past – what would we move on to? Am I supposed to just go back to New York and leave our relationship behind me for good, or is coming back here the sign all along that Luke Porter is the only guy for me?

  By the time evening rolls around, my stomach is twisted up tight in knots again. The address Marcie sent me is right near the other luxury development, further down a quiet stretch of beach. I pull up outside and try to take a deep breath. At least this time, I’ll have Pixie and Clyde as a buffer – and a dozen people from the production too.

  “Ready for your close-up?” Theo teases me, greeting me.

  “Don’t. I already wish I had said ‘no’. There’re a million and one things I could be doing right now.”

  “Now you understand,” he laughs. “Pixie’s a hard woman to say no to.”

  The house is similar to the other one I toured: gorgeous clean lines and stunning windows, but it feels more lived in. We head upstairs, to where they’re setting up the balcony for our ‘spontaneous’ get-together. I step out on to the deck and gasp. If the other view was breathtaking, this one could knock you dead. Blue ocean as far as the eye can see. With the sun sinking over the water, this is a million-dollar view right here.

  I see Luke as soon as I walk in, getting wired for sound. He gives me a little wave, and I try my best to read his body language. Is he happy to see me, or already regretting getting swept up in this production? Our dinner got cut short so abruptly, I’m still left wondering about what he was about to say on the beach that night before I was called away.

  “There you are,” Marcie meets me, and whisks me over to hair and makeup. “Damn, she’s clashing with the throw pillows. Can we switch those out?” she calls, like I’m not standing right here in front of her.

  “Great to see you too, Marcie.” I tease.

  She gives me a look. “If you’d called us in when Pixie went off-script, we wouldn’t be going through this charade.”

  She’s wound extra-tight today. I wonder why, but as I look around, I see the reason: Brent. He’s lounging against the balcony railings, talking on his cell phone, oblivious to the fact he’s blocking the path for all the tech guys.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell Marcie, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie with her. “We’ll get back on schedule. Pixie cries at the drop of a hat these days, so you won’t miss any of the good stuff.”

  “Thanks.” She gives me a rare smile. “I just wish he’d get out of the damn way and stop micro-managing everything I do!”

  “Now you know how it feels,” I grin.

  “Touché!”

  Once I’m powdered and primped, I head over to join Luke.

  “Can you believe this?” he greets me, looking around. “I didn’t realize it took twenty people to have a casual drink.”

  “Marcie doesn’t do things by half,” I agree.

  “They’ve even got someone over there rearranging the food to make it look better for the cameras.” Luke glances back at me, smiling. “I didn’t think grilling could look bad.”

  “You’re just lucky you didn’t have to sit through the meeting debating which flavor cake they would eat,” I smile back, relaxing. If he’s acting like everything’s cool between us, I can do that, too. “They had focus group testing and multiple choice questionnaires and everything.”

  He laughs, that warm rich sound that always sets me at ease. “So what will our wedding duties be, exactly?”

  “Clyde didn’t tell you?”

  “Not so much,” Luke grins. “He was too busy trying to remember a song he’d heard on the radio in nineteen eighty-six.”

  “I don’t think Pixie was even born back then.”

  “What can I say, love works in mysterious ways.”

  Our gaze holds for a moment, then we’re called over to take our places. There are couches set up overlooking the water, with a spread of delicious-looking food and drink. I reach for a glass of lemonade to quench my thirst, but the prop stylist stops me.

  “Not until after the filming!”

  “OK…” I slowly put it back down as Pixie and Clyde emerge. She’s dressed in a pink sundress and his face is almost hidden by oversized shades. Pixie goes right over to talk to Theo, but Clyde collapses beside me on the couch with a groan.

  “Man, I’ve got a killer hangover. Your aunts sure know how to rock.”

  “My aunts?” I turn, surprised.

  “Saw them out at karaoke,” Clyde grins. “That Bettina sure can sing. She
put Stevie Nicks to shame. We shut down the whole place down.”

  So that’s why I didn’t hear them come in last night.

  “OK.” Marcie claps her hands, and everyone quiets. “This is just a casual scene. Clyde, you serve some food from the grill, everyone talks about how great it is. Yum yum. Then you two say you’ve got something important to ask. Ginny, Luke?”

  “Here.” Luke lazily raises his hand, like we’re back in school. I catch his eye, and have to stifle a smile.

  “I know you guys don’t have much experience, but just act natural. And don’t look at the cameras!”

  We shoot all evening, until the sun is low over the ocean, and my stomach is rumbling. Silly me, I actually thought an evening grilling on the balcony would mean I’d get to eat, but every time I sneak a mouthful, I get caught chewing on camera and we have to roll again. By the time Marcie finally declares it a wrap, I’m just about ready to faint with hunger.

  “Does that mean we get to eat now?” I ask hopefully, as the crew packs everything up. I reach for a plate of steak, only to find it’s cold and rubbery. Everything else has been left out so long, there are flies buzzing around. I let out a wistful sigh.

  “Come on,” Luke chuckles, taking the plate from my hand. “They brought a whole crate of meat over. Prime porterhouse. I’ll grill us a couple of fresh ones. And how about a burger, too?”

  “I love you so much right now.”

  The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I blush. “I mean… I just… That would be great.”

  Way to go, Ginny.

  “Clyde, Pixie?” Luke turns to the others. “Want to join us for a real grill? We could take the chance to hang without all the cameras around.”

  “Sorry, they can’t.” Marcie answers for them. “We have satellite interviews booked back at the inn.”

  Pixie gives me an apologetic smile, tailing her out. “But you guys have fun!”

  Luke turns back to me. The last of the crew hoist their equipment down the stairs, and suddenly, we’re alone on the balcony. “Guess it’s just you and me then.” He pauses, and his words sink in. “Want a beer?”

  “Sure,” I tell him, my nerves returning. “I’ll just go freshen up. They caked, like, a whole ton of makeup on me.”

  He smiles. “You never did need that stuff. You’re beautiful without it.”

  My heart stops.

  “Umm, thanks.” My blush spreads, until I feel like my whole body is flushed bright red. I quickly bolt for the door, before I say anything else.

  How did this happen?

  I find the guest bathroom and run cold water over my wrists, trying to get my cool back. One minute, I’m in a room of twenty people buzzing with lights and noise, and the next, Luke and I are alone. On his balcony. At sunset.

  Talk about the perfect romantic setting.

  Not that romance is on his mind, I remind myself. As far as I know, Luke thought we’d be hanging out with a crowd too, and was just too polite to take back his invitation once it was just the two of us left. We’ll eat, talk a little, then go our separate ways again.

  So why did he call you beautiful?

  I stay in the bathroom as long as I can, then take the long way back out to the balcony. I look around, curious about the place Luke calls home now. It’s the same luxury design as the other house I saw, but this one feels lived-in, with rustic touches like a leather chesterfield sofa and an open fireplace in the lounge. I pause by his bookshelves, surprised to find them full. The Luke I knew preferred to watch a game on TV rather than read, but here I see shelves of history books, and a row of crime novels too.

  “See anything you like.”

  I jump. He’s come in from the kitchen, and caught me snooping. Luke hands me a cold bottle of beer. “I got into books when my dad was sick,” he explains. “A lot of time in hospital waiting rooms, sitting around with nothing much to do.”

  “Was it long?” I ask. “I mean, did you at least have some time together, before the end?”

  He nods. “Small blessings, I guess. But you’re never ready to say goodbye.”

  I rest a hand on his arm. “It gets easier. You think it won’t, that you’ll never heal the hurt, but it just takes time.

  “Thanks.” He gives me a sad smile. “What about you?”

  I already know he means my parents. “It hits me the usual times. Birthdays, holidays. I usually have work I can do to distract myself. I find myself wishing sometimes, they’d had a graveyard burial,” I add softly, toying with my necklace – their rings, hanging close to my heart. “I know they had left instructions in their will about being cremated and scattered out on the ocean, but it would be nice sometimes to have a place to visit, you know?”

  “They’re always with you, Ginny.” Luke’s voice is so comforting. “I know, they would be proud.”

  I can feel a pang in my chest that usually leads to tears, so I turn away. “How about that steak?” I ask brightly. “That was torture, having all that food so close, and yet so far.”

  Luke lets the subject drop, just like I knew he would. “One prime rib-eye, coming up!”

  We head back outside. Luke found a ton of food the production left behind in the fridge, so I can gorge on potato salad, roasted vegetables and fruit. He stands casually behind his massive grill, manning the flames with a pair of tongs in one hand and a beer in the other.

  “I bet you live out here,” I laugh. “A grill, this view, what more do you need?”

  “I can’t complain,” he grins. “You ever miss it? Home, I mean.”

  I nod. “New York is great, don’t get me wrong, but everything’s so fast-paced and cutthroat. Even when I try to relax, I can’t shut off my to-do list. Down here, you can just take a blanket out to the sand, and all your problems seem a million miles away.”

  “Unless you forget the SPF,” he grins, and I laugh, remembering the summer we stayed out on the water all day, and I came back pink as a lobster.

  “That was the worst burn of my life!” I groan. “I was in agony for days.”

  “You squealed like a little kitten. And all I could do to help was keep you lotioned up.” Luke’s smile turns suggestive, and I flush, remembering those nights, and his hands smoothing softly over my painful skin.

  It was easy to forget about the burn when the fire between us was hotter than hell.

  I go sit on the couch to put some distance between us, but when I look up, he’s still gazing at me with that edge in his stare: the reckless, dangerous one that led me astray all those years ago. I stop breathing. Damn, that smile could make me forget my own name.

  “Are you heading back, once the wedding is done?” Luke asks.

  I give an awkward shrug. “Yes. I mean, my life is there. My business…” I trail off, getting lost in his blue eyes.

  “So there’s nothing that could make you stay?” Luke’s voice is casual, but his words strike through me.

  “I… don’t know,” I lie. “I haven’t thought…”

  Carefully, he puts down his beer and tongs. He crosses the space between us in confident, easy strides. He leans over me, placing one hand on either side of the couch behind me, until his face is just inches away.

  I can see his mouth, temptingly close. The heat in his eyes. The unmistakable sense of him.

  “Nothing?” he asks again, the corners of his lips lifting in a sexy-as-hell smile. “We’ll have to see about that.”

  And then he kisses me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Last time, Luke took me by surprise. But even now I have a moment to see it coming, the feel of his mouth on mine still blows me away. Soft and slow, deep and sweet as summer molasses—every last thought or doubt I have is chased clean from my mind.

  He doesn’t just kiss me; Luke possesses me.

  I reach for him, needing to feel more of that incredible body against me. I slide my hands over his chest and up around his neck, pulling him down with a hunger that’s already raging out of control. L
uke groans against my mouth, and then pulls back – but only long enough to fall back on the couch and yank me to him again, body to body. His lips crash down on me with a new passion, demanding, and I kiss him back with everything I have, loving the taste of him, so familiar and unknown all at once. I’m falling, already spinning out of control, my whole world contracted to just this moment, right here. His hands are in my hair, at my waist, all over me, roaming to touch and squeeze, leaving a trail of sensation in their path.

  I feel like I could combust, just from the feel of his hands on my body again.

  I arch up against him, eager. He drags his mouth from my lips, and kisses down the hollow of my neck. He grips my hips and pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him.

  “God, Ginny, look at you.” Luke lifts his head. Sunset and lust are reflected in his eyes, bright as fireworks. “I’ve dreamed about this, you and me, but nothing could ever come close.”

  My heart swells. “I missed you,” I whisper. “I missed you so much. I told myself I was building you up in my memories, that it couldn’t have been this good, but…”

  “It is.” Luke finishes for me. He leans in and drops a kiss on my forehead, suddenly tender. “It’s you and me.”

  I nod. For a moment, the reality of what we’re doing – me and Luke – threatens to break this magical moment. Then Luke stands, lifting me easily in his arms.

  “I’m not letting you get away so easy this time,” he says with a wicked grin. “And I figure there’s one sure way to keep you in my arms tonight.” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear in a way that makes me shudder. “You were my first, Ginny Austen, but I’m damn sure going to show you I’ve learned a few things since then.”

  He carries me inside to the bedroom and sets me down on the bed. My pulse catches, looking up at him. With the setting sun behind him, he has a golden aura, a halo against the blue.

  My Luke. My heart.

  When we were teenagers, we would sneak moments together, breathlessly tearing off each other’s clothes in the backseat of a car, or a stolen hour alone in the house. Now, we have all the time in the world. We undress each other slowly, rediscovering every inch of the bodies we once new by heart. The broad lines of his shoulders, the sexy jut of his hipbone. I feel like I’m dreaming, but I don’t want to wake up. The night drift away, lost in the storm of sensation and pleasure we’re creating here between us.