by K. A. Linde
This was not going at all how he wanted it to go.
“So…should I address the elephant in the room?” Clay asked.
Gigi and Andrea both looked up at him with strained eyes. Chris looked like he was trying not to laugh still.
“Did you and Chris fuck?”
“Oh my God!” Gigi cried. She buried her head in her hands.
Andrea swatted at him. “Ass.”
Chris actually did burst out laughing. “Why am I not surprised?”
“But come on! Everyone is wondering it,” Clay said. He waved his hands between them. “She said she stayed in your room. You guys hung out all night. Just tell us.”
“You are such an insufferable ass,” Gigi cried. This time, she smacked him on the arm. “I cannot believe you brought that up.”
“Really?” he asked, honestly surprised.
“Okay, no, I can. But thank you for one of the most awkward weekends of my life.”
“Anytime, De Rosa.” He grinned at her, and she just shook her head.
“Well, I’m glad we can all agree on something,” Andrea said airily to the table.
“That Clay is an idiot?” Chris joked.
“Precisely.”
It was his turn to be affronted. “Hey! I was just trying to break the mood. You two looked like you were either going to gouge each other’s eyes out with forks or never make eye contact with anyone else again. If it takes a few laughs at my expense, it seems worth it.”
Chris grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
“And, anyway, you guys should probably get used to hanging out together,” Clay said, “my best friend and my girl.”
“Which one is which?” Andrea said under her breath.
He gave her a long, level look. Then, he reached for her hand and kissed it. “You know the answer to that.”
“You’re right,” she said with a sigh.
“I’m the best friend, in case anyone was wondering,” Gigi said.
Chris chuckled. Clay looked relieved. Andrea seemed unconvinced.
“Yeah. I guess I still can’t get over you coming downstairs in his boxers at his townhouse,” Andrea said. “Sue me.”
Chris’s eyes rounded as he looked between Clay and Gigi.
“That’s actually what we do,” Gigi said with her own tentative smile.
Andrea cracked up. “True.”
“But really…that wasn’t what it looked like. We didn’t have sex and never have.” She shuddered. “I still feel really bad that you assumed otherwise.”
Andrea gave her a curt nod.
“Man, Clay,” Chris said, cutting the tension, “you sure know how to keep things interesting.”
“I do what I can. Now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, do you think we could eat?” Clay asked.
“Food would be excellent,” Chris agreed. “Though I don’t mind more awkward conversations, if that’s necessary.”
Both girls rolled their eyes at the same time. Then, when they realized the other had done it, they burst out into laughter.
“Men!” Gigi said.
Andrea nodded. “Right?”
Clay didn’t understand it, but at least they were getting along. That was all that mattered to him.
Chapter 25
BIG SURPRISE
Two weeks later, Clay and Andrea landed at LaGuardia Airport in New York City. Clay had managed to get the weekend off and had this whole vacation planned out.
After the wedding weekend, he and Andrea had been on good terms. It wasn’t exactly like everything was suddenly all better. They weren’t living together again. She stayed at her apartment. He stayed at his townhouse. Their house in the suburbs was basically abandoned. He hated her absence when he didn’t get to see her, and even more so because they’d had endless sex the wedding weekend and that had since come to a standstill.
She had been more selective of her time and body with him since coming home and returning to reality. He didn’t like it. He had every intention of changing her mind. At least, that was the plan this weekend.
They spent the better part of the next two days relearning how to be a couple. In so many ways, it felt the same as it always had. They had always been good together. They’d traveled together so often that it was easy to slip into a simple routine. But still, it was as if Clay had this awareness of her that he couldn’t even explain.
He’d reach out his hands to keep people from drawing near her. He’d open car doors for her, pulling her in for kisses before letting her sit down. They’d enjoy wine and whiskey together—not to numb the pain, but to remember the taste with the other. In some ways, it was just incredible, being with her and remembering all the things about her that he’d fallen in love with in the first place.
They’d just left the Metropolitan Museum of Art after spending several hours observing the paintings. A display had recently come in from The Louvre, and they’d spent so much time in there, discussing the pieces that Andrea adored. She’d been an art history major at Yale, much to her father’s chagrin—not that she had ever needed his approval for anything.
He’d made a reservation at Tavern on the Green, a historical Central Park fixture, so after the museum, they sat outside under the Chinese lanterns in the gardens, enjoying a decadent dinner and polishing off their second bottle of wine. An excellent vintage.
His head felt as light as the clouds, and a lazy smile rested upon his face. Andrea looked quite as relaxed as he felt. All in all, he thought the evening had been a success. And it wasn’t over yet.
Clay paid the tab and then took Andrea’s arm.
“A walk through the park?” she asked when he drew her away from the open cul-de-sac where the cab had dropped them off at the restaurant. “Isn’t it a bit too late for that?”
“Indeed.”
He kissed her hand but kept walking away from the restaurant. She didn’t protest, even in the mile-high heels she always wore. He was looking forward to fucking her in just the heels later tonight.
Her mouth opened slightly in surprise when she saw the horse-drawn carriage waiting for them. Her eyes glittered. “For us?”
“Anything for you.”
“This is…romantic, Clay.”
He chuckled. “You seem surprised. I told you I wanted this to be about us.”
“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.”
