by Beth Andrews
“It wasn’t a mistake.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “But I don’t want you to think it meant more than what it did.”
“Is that so?” she asked haughtily. But she couldn’t quite pull it off, not wearing just a sheet, her hair a mess, her delicate skin pink with stubble burn from his kisses. “In other words, you don’t want me to think last night changed anything between us.”
“It didn’t.”
“Speak for yourself. It changed everything for me.” Clutching the sheet, she looked him in the eye but when she spoke her voice was hesitant. “Aidan, I…” She exhaled softly, then rushed on, “I’m in love with you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
His heart kicked against his chest. God help him, hope shone in her eyes. He hardened his heart against it. “You never stopped loving me?” he asked. “And yet you still left me.”
She blanched. “Don’t,” she ordered, her voice choked. “We can move forward. Things can be different.”
“They could,” he agreed. “If we want them to be. But I don’t want that. I made the mistake of loving you once before, of trusting you. I won’t make that same mistake twice.”
Before he could change his mind, before his resolve waned, he turned and walked away, though everything inside him screamed not to. That this was an even bigger mistake than when he’d let her go before.
He ground his teeth. No. He hadn’t let her go. She’d left. What if he did give them a second chance? What if she ended up as unhappy as she’d been before? If she left him again, he didn’t think he’d survive it.
He was passing the kitchen when she caught up with him. She stabbed her arms into the sleeves of her robe and tightened the belt.
“So that’s it?” she asked, scurrying in front of him to block his escape. “You’re not even willing to give us another chance?”
He looked over her head at the door, but other than physically moving her, he couldn’t leave. And he couldn’t move her. He didn’t trust himself to touch her.
“Look,” he said, “what happened last night was…” Just sex. But he couldn’t force the lie out. “It was…great.” He winced at how lame that sounded. How inadequate his words were. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”
“Oh, my God,” she said with a harsh laugh. “You sound like every sleazy one-night stand my parents warned me about.”
He did. But he couldn’t admit the truth. That he’d needed her last night.
His shoulders ached with tension and he rolled them back. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression about what last night meant. But nothing’s changed between us.”
Yvonne wrapped her arms around herself. “No matter what I do,” she said, her voice hoarse, “it’ll never be enough for you. You’ll never forgive me for leaving you.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. You said it yourself—we just aren’t meant to be.”
“What if we want to make it work?” Her voice wobbled, and to his horror, her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t—”
“I love you, Aidan. You. The man you are now, standing in front of me. Do you love me?”
Damn it, he didn’t want to hurt her. “Yvonne, I…”
“Answer me!” She straightened her arms, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Do you love me? Not the woman I was seven years ago, but the woman I am now.”
He wanted to beg her not to let those tears shimmering in her eyes fall. To pull her into his arms and hold her, to make love to her, to pretend there was no past between them. No future to consider.
“I can’t love you. I don’t want to.”
“I see,” she said, nodding slowly, her eyes huge and wounded in her pale face. “Well, then, I guess you’re right. There is no hope for us.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. The words were inadequate but they were all he had.
“Oh, please, don’t apologize,” she said coldly, despite the way her lower lip quivered. “After all, this is what you wanted, wasn’t it? A chance to be the one to walk away from me. To show you’re in complete control of the situation.”
“This isn’t revenge.”
“No, it’s just you bowing to your stupid pride. Your fears.” She stepped aside. “Well, I hope pride keeps you warm at night, and that it’s worth giving me up.”
He hesitated.
She pointed at the door. “This is my home for another week, and I’d like you to leave now.” When he still didn’t move, her lips curled. “What are you waiting for? Haven’t you heard? What Yvonne Delisle wants, Yvonne Delisle gets.”
He left.
He had to. Being there, being with her hadn’t changed the past or the mistakes they’d both made. But it could change what happened next. A future with Yvonne was a frightening proposition. Unknown. Out of his control.
She was right. This was about his pride. Because when she walked away before, his pride had kept him going. He couldn’t trust her, couldn’t love her again because he wasn’t strong enough to face her leaving again.
IT WAS THE MORNING of Diane and Senator Wallace’s wedding, and Yvonne couldn’t have asked for a better day. The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky, warmed the crisp, clean air. It was a perfect day for new beginnings. For the happy couple, it was the start of their new life together, one Yvonne prayed would be happy and filled with good health.
For her, it was the beginning of her return to her old life. An end to her time at the Diamond Dust. To any hopes she may have harbored over the last week and a half that Aidan would change his mind about them.
He hadn’t. He never would.
She knocked on the dressing room door. Mark had really come through for them, finishing the renovations of the carriage house, including the additions of the kitchen and bathrooms.
“Come in,” Diane called.
Yvonne stepped inside. Aidan’s mother sat at the antique dressing table in a full slip, applying mascara.
“Is there a problem?” Yvonne asked, doing a quick check of the room.
Everything seemed to be in order. Diane’s dress, a silver chiffon with a V-neck and three rosettes at the Empire waist, hung on the back of the closet door. Her bouquet was in a box near to the sofa, her shoes on the floor beneath the dress. Yvonne had checked the mini fridge in the corner and knew it was stock with bottled water. The bridesmaids, Connie and Marsha, Senator Wallace’s lovely daughter, along with flower girls Payton and Abby, were getting their pictures taken with the groomsmen. The chairs were set up, the caterers were busy in the kitchen, the bar was stocked with Diamond Dust wine, and soon the guests would start to arrive.
So far, so good.
“Everything’s fine,” Diane said, putting the mascara away. “Stop worrying.”
Brushing her hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, Yvonne smiled. “In this case, it’s my job to worry.”
“It’s going to be a wonderful day, a perfect day, thanks to you.”
Yvonne’s eyes stung with tears. She fiercely blinked them back. God, what was the matter with her? Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? Why she’d come back to the Diamond Dust? To prove to the people who hadn’t accepted her how capable she was, how worthy?
“Did Aidan find you?” Diane asked, watching her in the mirror.
“Yes,” Yvonne managed to say. “He caught up with me about an hour ago.”
Caught her as she was coming out of the kitchen, to tell her how much he and his family appreciated all her hard work for them the past few weeks. How well she’d done her job. Then he’d handed her an envelope. A bonus for a job well done, he’d said, acting as if she meant nothing more to him than any other employee.
She wanted to rip the check into tiny pieces and shove those pieces up his nose. Instead, she’d smiled coolly, offered him a so-polite-it-almost-killed-her thank-you, then walked away, as if her heart wasn’t breaking.
She was leaving in approximately twelve hours, had her car packed and ready to go, was more than eager to put t
The bastard.
“I’m glad you and your family are happy with my services,” she told Diane.
“We are,” the older woman said as she stood. She crossed to Yvonne, surprising her by taking her hands. “I’m just sorry things didn’t work out how I’d planned.” She watched her carefully. “How, I think, both of us would’ve liked them to have worked out.”
Yvonne was afraid kind words and the slightest offering of comfort would make her crumble, when she needed all her strength just to get through the day. She squeezed Diane’s hands, then stepped back and headed for the door. “I’m sorry, too.”
AIDAN HAD NOTHING against weddings, but if there was any possible way he could skip out on this one without his mother skinning him alive, he would.
As the organ music played, he stood by her side at the door to the carriage house. Brady and Matt were both at the far end of the building next to Al. They all wore dark suits, while Connie and Al’s daughter were in soft blue. Payton and Abby as flower girls wore white.
Aidan smiled down his mother. “You look beautiful.”
She’d had two chemo treatments so far, and while they’d made her tired and sick to her stomach, she’d been more concerned with having a full head of hair for her wedding. But even though she had dark circles under her eyes, even though her face was pale and she was exhausted and nauseous, she was beautiful. She was alive.
“You ready?” Diane asked as the string quartet started a new tune.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Oh, I’m more than ready.” She smiled up at him. “It’s a beautiful day,” she said, repeating his father’s favorite phrase.
Aidan patted her hand. “That it is.” He kissed her cheek. “Be happy.”
She nodded and they started walking down the makeshift aisle, but not before he caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. Aidan walked his mother to meet her soon-to-be new husband, before joining his brothers as the minister started to speak.
It had been a long week. A difficult one, with the side effects of the chemo taking hold. But today was a celebration. The carriage house was filled with Al and Diane’s families and friends. Chairs had been set up in the large room so they could all witness the ceremony, and then immediately after, the crew Yvonne had hired would whisk the chairs away and replace them with tables, while the guests enjoyed appetizers on the new covered patio out back.
He had to admit Mark and his team had done a hell of a job with the renovations. Wide oak boards covered the floor and white lights hung from the rafters. The walls had been painted a soft yellow, the windows had been replaced.
Yvonne had somehow managed to pull off this wedding despite a crazy time limit and a bride battling cancer. But she’d done it.
And she’d done it while keeping her distance from him. When they did happen to run into each other, she was always cool, polite and professional. Like this morning, when he’d given her that bonus for a job well done.
He hated it. Hated having her so close and knowing he couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t just sit and talk with her as he wanted. He’d lost any rights where she was concerned. Had given them up.
While J.C. walked to the small podium for the first reading, he scanned the crowd. He recognized most of the people but there was one person missing, the one he desperately wanted to see.
And then there she was. Yvonne. She stepped into view at the back of the room. Her black dress accentuated her curves; her sexy, strappy shoes made her legs seem endless. She had on a headset, carried a clipboard in one hand, her phone in the other. Aidan shifted. Felt as if his shirt were strangling him. He tugged at the collar, ignoring the curious glance Matt gave him.
Aidan flashed back to another wedding, held in a church in Savannah. Yvonne’s parents had wanted them to have the grandest wedding the city had seen in decades, but he hadn’t cared if they exchanged vows in a church in front of five hundred people or alone on a beach. He’d just wanted her.
Wasn’t that why you wanted me? You wanted this. The package.
He stretched his neck, but still felt as if he couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t draw a full breath.
Connie went up to read next, her voice filtering through his memories.
“Love is patient,” she said in a clear, strong voice, her gaze landing on Matt. “Love is kind. Love does not envy.”
They were the same words said at Aidan’s wed ding.
“Love does not boast. Love is not proud.”
Sweat dampened the hair at the back of his neck. Love might not be proud, but he sure as hell had been. Too proud. So concerned about bruising his pride that he’d put it ahead of the only woman he’d ever loved.
“Love,” Connie continued, “always trusts.”
Across the room, he caught Yvonne’s eyes.
God, she’d been right about so many things. He had wanted to be the one to leave. To be in control. All those years of trying to manage everyone and everything was his way of protecting himself. But he didn’t need control. All he really needed was Yvonne.
He stepped toward her, but was stopped by Brady’s hand on his arm. “What are you doing?” his brother asked under his breath.
Aidan shook him off, not caring that over a hundred people were going to witness him groveling. “I’m going to get my wife back.”
YVONNE’S EYES WIDENED. What was Aidan doing? He wasn’t…he wouldn’t…
But as she watched, he started toward her, a determined expression on his face.
Oh, dear Lord.
Up at the podium, Connie frowned, but managed to finish her reading as Aidan made his way down the aisle. Yvonne forced herself to stand her ground.
“Go back up front,” she whispered harshly when he reached her.
“I want to talk to you.”
“Now?” She looked behind him, saw that the entire room was staring at them—including Diane and Al. “We can talk later.”
“If I try to talk to you later, you’ll find something to do or a way to avoid me.”
True. So very, very true. “You’re embarrassing me,” she hissed.
“I need you.”
“Don’t…” She cleared her throat. “Don’t do this. Not now. For God’s sake, not here.”
He grasped her upper arms. “I need you in my life, by my side, and I don’t care who knows it. I. Need. You.”
Afraid her head was going to explode, she pressed her hands above her ears. “Stop. You’re ruining the ceremony.”
He was ruining everything. She’d gotten through the past week by telling herself he’d been right. They never would’ve made it. Hadn’t they failed once before? He had no right to do this to her now when she was prepared to leave him again.
“Sorry,” he said. He turned and waved at his mother and Al. “Sorry,” he called. “Carry on.”
Then he tugged Yvonne toward the door. Oh, no, he didn’t. She dug in her heels. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His eyes glittered. “Want to bet?”
Before she knew it, he’d swept her up in her arms and carried her out the door and into the bright spring sunshine.
“I am going to kill you,” she promised quite calmly, despite the turmoil going on inside of her.
“I deserve it,” he said simply, his strides long, his voice not breathless in the least from hauling her around like a one hundred ten—okay, one hundred fifteen—pound sack of potatoes.
She didn’t struggle. Was honestly too shocked to, and by the time she realized she should be struggling, she’d regained enough sense to know that if she did, he would probably drop her. And she’d suffered enough humiliation today.
He strode toward the grove of trees behind the carriage house, the place she’d suggested would make a lovely backdrop for outdoor weddings. She was glad he’d gone in this direction, as it, at least, granted them a semblance of privacy.
<br /> He carefully set her on her feet, his hands on her arms to help her regain her balance.
She smacked him away. “How dare you? Have you lost your mind? I am running that wedding you so unceremoniously carried me out of. I have people in there who are counting on me to make sure this day goes as smoothly as possible.” Her voice rose as she began to pace, her heels sinking into the ground. “I have at least one prospective client who is considering the Diamond Dust for her own wedding next summer. I’ve worked myself ragged to make sure this day goes off without a hitch, and what do you do? You make a spectacle of me in front of a hundred guests.” Breathing heavily, she slapped her hands on her hips. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
He yanked her to him and kissed her.
And for a moment, she was lost in his arms. “Don’t,” she warned, pushing him away. “Just…don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he said urgently. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you. That wasn’t my intent.” He took her by the shoulders and forced her to face him. “But when I saw you standing there, I realized how wrong I was to let you go.” His eyes searched hers. “I love you.”
She jerked away from his touch. “That’s not fair. You can’t just decide all of a sudden that you love me. Not after the way you hurt me.” She shook her head.
“Please, hear me out.” He wiped his palms down the front of his dark suit pants. “I’ve made so many mistakes. I didn’t see that I’d tried to make you be someone you weren’t. But none of my mistakes could ever come close to my letting you go the first time. I’m not about to repeat that error now. I love you,” he insisted. “I love how you look and how you talk. I love how hard you work and how you’re addicted to that stupid phone of yours.”
She lifted her chin. “It’s not an addiction. It’s a convenience.”
He grinned, taking her breath away. “I love how you pretend you’re not pissed when you really are.” His tone turned husky. Intimate. “I love how you dance and how you make love. I love that you don’t back down from anything or anyone.”
-->