I nodded, involuntarily turned to look at Nicky again, and said, “Oh.”
We were quiet for a minute or so until Angie said, “Well, I’m headed out. Just wanted to make sure I spoke to you before I left.”
As she stood, I managed to get to my feet. “I’ll walk you out,” I offered. “I need to get home, too.”
Once we were at Angie’s car, my eyes found their way to the front of the church where Nicky and Travis now stood engaged in a private conversation.
“You really love her, don’t you?” Angie asked softly, snatching my attention back to her.
I frowned slightly and opened my mouth to do what I always did when someone insinuated Nicky was more than a friend—lie—but Angie cut me off.
“Nuh-uh, don’t bother giving me that ‘we’re just friends’ crap Nicky always gives me. Please don’t insult my intelligence like that. I know better, Damon. I can see it all over you and her. Well, I’ve always seen it in you, just wasn’t sure about her. You two love each other. And if I wasn’t sure before, that dance you two shared at Club Indigo? Whew! That definitely told me the truth. Wasn’t nothing ‘friendly’ about that dance or that kiss.”
I sighed as I rubbed the back of my head. I don’t know what it was, whether it was the fact that I was tired, stressed the hell out about this wedding, or if I just needed to say it out loud to someone other than myself and Nicky, but after a beat of silence, I looked Angie in the eye, and said, “Yeah, I do. I love her as much more than just a friend.”
I don’t know what I expected her to do, but I definitely wasn’t expecting her to stand there and stare at me or to open her car door and tell me to climb in, but I did as she said. Once I was inside her car, she climbed in beside me and punched me in the arm—hard.
“Ow! Damn! What was that for?!”
“For you standing by and letting my little sister destroy her life. How can you let her do this?!” she hissed through clenched teeth.
With wide eyes, I said, “Uh…I was under the impression you were already acquainted with Nicole Strickland. But you can’t be, because if you were, you’d know I ain’t letting her do shit. Nicky does what she wants when she wants. She’s never been the type to ask for permission, and you know that.”
“So…what? You’re not even going to try to stop her?”
“You think I haven’t? You think I want the love of my damn life to marry another man?”
Angie’s expression softened. “Love of your life? Does she know that’s how you feel? Maybe if you told her—”
I shook my head and dragged my hand over my face. “She knows, Angie. I’ve told her multiple times. If she doesn’t know anything else, she knows I love her and want to be with her.”
Her eyes diverted from me to the windshield. “And she loves you, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been in love since…since high school. Or at least that’s when I knew she loved me. I’ve loved her much longer, since we were kids.”
Angie returned her gaze to me. “Then why is she doing this? Money?”
“I think that’s part of it, but…look, Ang, there’s history between me and Nick that—shit. I fucked up back in the day and she can’t or won’t get over it. She won’t let it go, so we can’t be together. It’s not something I want to discuss, but it…it was bad. When I say I fucked up, I mean I really fucked up.”
“When? You’ve been gone for years. You just got back.”
“High school. Senior year.”
Her neck reclined. “Nicky’s holding something against you that happened in high school?”
“Yeah.”
Angie shook her head. “Damon, I knew my sister was touched, but that’s just insane.”
“Not really. I see why she feels the way she does. If it was the other way around, I’d probably still be messed up about it, too.” I am still messed up about it…
“But you wouldn’t hold on to it like she’s doing. That’s not in your nature. You’d forgive her and move on.” She sighed. “I wish there was something I could do to stop her silly ass. She’s about to make the biggest mistake of her life.”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t know how to. So I just stared out the window for a second and then opened the passenger’s door. “Thanks for this, Ang. It helped to tell someone what I’m feeling. Things with me and Nick have always been so secretive, you know?”
Her forehead creased. “Yeah, but why?”
I closed the door and faced Angie. “If I share this with you, you gotta keep it to yourself. You can’t tell Nicky I said any of this.”
She nodded.
“Me and Nick…we really did start off as best friends. We completed and complemented each other in a lot of ways. Then, when we were in junior high, we started having sex.” I paused for a second, seriously feeling like I was betraying Nicky’s trust. “Um…and we kept that a secret, because as friends, we had unlimited access to each other. We were sure our parents—that was back when my mom still gave half a shit about me—would shut that down if they knew our relationship had…evolved. So we kept playing the best friend role and having sex.”
“Wait, but you had girlfriends and she had boyfriends.”
“I know. Nicky thought we needed to experience having boyfriends and girlfriends. Shit, she always came up with these crazy ideas and I was so gone over her, I just went along with them. But anyway, the thing between us was weird and didn’t make a lot of sense, but it was our thing. It worked for us. And besides, neither of us were ever serious about anyone else. They were just decoys, really.”
She shook her head.
“We even agreed to only have sex with each other.”
“Wow.”
“I know, sounds stupid as hell to me, too, now. But back then, it seemed all right. Anyway, the whole secret thing just stuck. Old habits, you know?”
“Yeah. But there’s one thing I really don’t understand.”
With a lifted brow, I said, “What?”
“How could you agree to be in her wedding?”
I rubbed my eyes with the thumb and index finger of my right hand. “Hell, I didn’t think she’d go through with it. Plus, Nick has a hard time, uh…controlling herself around me, and I like getting in her space, messing with her. Being in the wedding and a part of the rehearsals and stuff gave me a prime opportunity to do that. And I figured I’d just go along with it when Travis invited me to be in the wedding, until she came to her senses, and now? I think I just need to be there to see if she’ll actually do it.”
“I really hope she doesn’t. I hope she wakes the hell up and realizes she needs to be with you and not Travis.”
“Me too, Angie. You have no idea how badly I want that.”
I wasn’t surprised to see Damon sitting in Angie’s car, because I’d been watching him the whole night, hoping no one, especially Travis, noticed. It wasn’t that I wanted my attention to be on him, but shit, I loved the man and was deeply attracted and connected to him. As badly as I wished none of that was true, it was, and it was hard to ignore him.
When I made it to my sister’s car, I leaned in the driver’s side window, my eyes instantly finding their way to Damon. “Hey, Damon,” I said softly.
With his eyes on the windshield, he said, “‘Sup, Nicky.”
I blinked hard, unsure which hurt more, that he wouldn’t look at me or that he called me Nicky instead of Nick. Before I could decide, he opened the door and hopped out, informing Angie that he was heading home. Then he left without even tossing another word at me.
Well, that really nipped at me, and I kind of just stood there staring after him until Angie tapped my arm, and asked, “Hey, you ready to head out?”
I shook my head. “Uh…I actually came to let you know I’m leaving with Travis. His mom planned a last-minute dinner thing she wants me to come to. He’ll drop me off at Renee’s.” My voice was laced with more displeasure than I intended to convey.
“Oh, okay…”
I sighed. �
��What?”
With raised eyebrows and faux innocence, she said, “Huh?”
“Why are you looking at me like that and sounding like that?”
“How am I looking and sounding, Nicky?”
“Like you got some shit to say that’s gon’ piss me off.”
“Well…”
I straightened and clasped my hands to my hips. “Just say it. Travis is waiting for me.”
“Okay. What the hell are you doing, Nicky? Are you seriously going through with this? You’re going to marry a man you don’t give even a modicum of a damn about when me and you both know you love someone else?”
I tilted my head to the side. “Here we go with that shit again. And who is the someone else? Damon?” Then a thought hit me. “What were you two talking about in here anyway?”
She just looked at me.
“Shit, he told you about us, didn’t he? What’d he say?”
“Enough for me to know you’re breaking his heart by doing this. His and yours.”
I backed away a bit, shaking my head. “You don’t get it. You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand, Nicky? He told me he hurt you—”
“What?!” I yelped. From the corner of my eye, I could see Travis making his way to me, but I couldn’t think about that. Had Damon told her—
She waved her hands in front of her face. “He didn’t—wouldn’t—offer any details, but he did say he hurt you and you’re holding it against him. He even understands why, but Nicky, you’re wrong, and I’m sure you know you’re wrong. You love him. It’s all over you, baby sis. You gotta let the past go and do what’s best for your heart.”
I pushed my lips into a pout and glanced at Travis as he approached me. Lowering my head, I whispered, “I don’t love Travis, so there’s no way he can break my heart like Damon did. I am doing what’s best for my heart.”
As I straightened, Travis reached for my hand and kissed my cheek. “You ready?”
I gave him a smile. “Yeah, babe.”
Travis looked at Angie. “Hey, Angela. I’ll be sure to get her to Renee’s.”
Angie nodded. “Okay, great,” she said unenthusiastically.
I shot her a look as I let Travis lead me to his car.
*****
Dinner was held at the McClures’s stately suburban Romey home, the one with the living room wall full of certificates, diplomas, and college graduation portraits. The one with the oil painting of Travis’s parents hanging over the fireplace. It was an intimidating home with a frigid environment. My parents might not have had the best marriage, but home always felt like home for the most part. My sisters and I could laugh and talk there and depend on our mother to make us feel welcome. Hell, even Daddy was sure to give us a hug and a smile and a “baby girl.” But this…this museum Travis’s family called a home, was far from a real home.
Judge McClure—as everyone, including his wife, addressed him—sat at the head of the table, face stern yet rather blank throughout the meal. Mrs. McClure sat to his right, with Piper sitting to her right. On the other side of Piper sat her boyfriend, a young law student named Dennett. To the judge’s left sat his only son, Travis, with me right beside him. The formal dining room was noiseless with the exception of the sound of expensive silverware scraping against fine China or ice settling in our glasses of sweet tea. Sitting there in all that sterility made me miss my overtly dysfunctional family.
I sighed lightly as I cut into an asparagus spear. If the food had been even remotely satisfying, this meal wouldn’t have been so unbearable. It was prepared by their live-in maid, Wilma, who apparently couldn’t cook worth shit.
“So…Saturday’s the big day. You ready, Trav?” Judge McClure’s voice boomed against the walls, making me almost miss my mouth with the asparagus.
Travis smiled and grabbed my free hand under the table. “More than ready. I can’t wait for Nick to become my wife.”
Wait. What did he call me?
Judge McClure snorted. “How about you, Nicole?” He didn’t bother looking up at me. He never really made eye contact with me the few times I was in his presence, even when addressing me. It was odd, but I didn’t care.
I squeezed Travis’s hand and smiled at him. “I-I can’t wait to be Mrs. Travis McClure.” Hell, I almost convinced myself again. Maybe this could work out. Maybe I could grow to really love Travis. I mean…maybe.
“Well, I for one am so excited about this wedding! Nicole, you are going to look so beautiful in your dress!” Piper gushed.
“Thanks, Piper. I really love it,” I replied.
“Hmm, well…I believe everything will be lovely. We might be able to pull this off despite the size of the church,” Mrs. McClure said, as she took a sip of the saccharine-sweet tea.
Here she goes with that bullshit again. Bitch.
“Mm, yes. That was a concern of mine, too. Grace, did you tell the Stricklands we were willing to pay for a larger venue? I mean, if their budget was an issue…” Judge McClure rumbled, addressing his wife.
Got-damn, I’m right here and I can hear your ass. I twisted my hand free of Travis’s and cleared my throat. “Uh…”
“Let it go, Judge. It’s settled. That’s where Nicky and Travis chose to exchange their vows. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Mrs. McClure muttered.
Not to be outdone, I added, “And it had nothing to do with a budget. My father would’ve paid for me to get married at Madison Square Garden if that was what I wanted.” And it was the truth. My father was nothing if not generous. He was a terrible father, but one who spoiled me all the days of my life. Paid for me to pursue and earn four advanced degrees. He wasn’t shit, but I’d be damned if the McClures were going to belittle him. They could suck my ass if that’s what they thought.
Judge McClure eyed me for a moment—surprisingly—then nodded. “I’m aware of your father’s wealth, Nicole.”
“Then why did you insinuate otherwise?” I asked.
Travis, his mom, and his sister all gasped simultaneously.
“Did I?” the judge asked.
I hadn’t spent much time around the judge, as he always seemed occupied or out of pocket, which meant he didn’t know me, but he was about to learn. I might have faked my way into this engagement pretending to be some Pollyanna, but that shit was over. It wasn’t like Travis would back out because I got an attitude with his father. Backing out now would be embarrassing and fuel too many rumors. I might not have loved the man, but I knew him. Travis was too concerned with his image to let some closed-door confrontation cause him that level of discomfort. So I had no reservations about putting the elder Mr. McClure in his place. “You mentioned a budget, right? There was no budget. The only stipulation my father made was for me and Travis to make the major decisions concerning our wedding.”
He stared at me for a moment and then gave me a smirk. “I see. Well, I apologize if I offended you in any way. That was not my intention, Nicole.” He turned to Travis. “Son, if you’re done with your meal, I’d like to speak to you for a moment.”
Travis nodded, gave me a nervous look, and left the table with his father.
I continued fighting through my bland dinner, enveloped in my thoughts, thoughts of Damon Davis and his big, long—
“Nicole, a word of advice?”
I looked up to see Grace McClure’s gaze affixed to me and her daughter’s eyes downcast. Dennett’s face was in his plate.
“Excuse me?” I said, as I reclined in my chair, deciding to give up on the charade of enjoying the food.
“I’d like to give you a word of advice,” she repeated.
Did I ask this hag for some advice? “Okay…”
“You don’t want to get on the judge’s bad side.”
And why are you calling your husband, a man I presume you used to screw at some point in time, “the judge”?
“What exactly does that mean?” I asked, with a lifted brow.
“It means that as the patriarc
h of the family, he wields a great amount of influence, especially over Travis. If you upset the judge, you upset Travis, and I’m sure you don’t want strife in your marriage at the onset. Do you?”
I scoffed. “Right. Thanks.” Standing from my seat, I added, “Tell Travis I’ll be waiting outside for him. I need some air.”
After fifteen minutes of waiting, I was contemplating calling Renee and seeing if maybe their driver could come pick me up when a soft voice broke into my thoughts.
“Hey, I’m sorry about my folks. They’re…they suck.”
I turned to face Piper. She was a couple of years younger than Travis at twenty-nine, tall, and painfully thin. I was small, but still had curves. Piper was virtually a stick, but she was sweet and genuine, and of all the McClures, I hated being around her the least.
How are you going to survive being a part of this family, a family that doesn’t even like you?
I shook those thoughts off and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. I can handle them.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, no doubt! You handled them both back there. Travis is probably being reprimanded, though. You weren’t at all what our parents were expecting him to bring home.” She ended that statement with a little giggle.
“Really? What were they expecting?”
“They see Travis as the next Barack Obama, so of course they expected him to come home with a Michelle, some Ivy League superwoman lawyer.”
“Hmm, is that what they expect you to be? Is Dennett your Caucasian Barack?” I asked.
“Their expectations of me are very low. I don’t have Travis’s brains, so they just hope I can manage to marry well.” She shrugged. “Dennett’s the heir to his family’s very successful business, and he’ll be a lawyer, so he definitely fits their bill.”
“But not yours?”
She glanced back at the house before shaking her head. “Nope,” she said, lowering her voice. “I like guys like your friend, the one who’s going to be in the wedding. Damon, I think is his name. The tall one with the tattoos? Now, he is gorgeous!”
My eyes danced all over the place as I tried not to look like I wanted to curse her out. “Uh, yeah…Damon’s always been handsome.”
Be with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 3) Page 9