The Barefoot Wedding

by Bella Andre

  “I can lend a hand with backdrop construction if you need it, Daniel.”

  “I could definitely do with an extra pair of hands so that I don’t risk Kate’s wrath by damaging any of the flowers.”

  “Even I couldn’t protect you from that,” Travis said as they moved the screens and the reflectors for the backdrop into place, then bolted them down.

  “So, how are things going?” Daniel asked. “I don’t want to pry, and you should feel free to tell me to get lost, but I get the sense something’s weighing on you.”

  Travis always made sure to keep his feelings inside. But now that Amy had appeared back in his life from out of the blue, his hold on his emotions was shakier than it had ever been.

  “I’m worried about a friend of mine,” he finally said. “She’s so smart and talented that the world should be at her feet.”

  “But?”

  Travis shook his head. “It’s complicated.”

  Daniel nodded. “I know more than my fair share about complicated.”

  After working together for several months, Travis knew Daniel’s story—he’d lost his wife in a terrible accident, then given up his award-winning photojournalism career to be a stay-at-home father for his children. Finding Jenn—and falling in love—had given him a second chance at life.

  “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can to help your friend,” Daniel continued.

  Travis had thought that was exactly what he’d done for Amy three years ago, but he’d only ended up hurting her. That was unforgivable enough.

  But what if she turned down the opportunity to work at Married in Malibu because he worked there?

  “I haven’t done everything I can to help her.” Travis’s voice was full of anger—at himself. “Not by a mile.”

  Daniel stopped screwing in a bolt to look at Travis. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re one of the most helpful people I know. There isn’t anyone you won’t bend over backward to assist. Which is why I’m finding it hard to believe that you haven’t already bent over backward for your friend.”

  “I haven’t,” Travis insisted.

  “Well, then, could you now? I don’t know what field your friend is in, but you’ve worked as a bodyguard for so long, I’m guessing you must know people in pretty much every line of work.”

  Daniel was right that Travis had done security for a Who’s Who of Los Angeles, from producers to actors, singers to artists. Art collectors too.

  “You know what…” An idea began to take shape. “I just might know the perfect person.”

  He might not be able to convince Amy to take the job at Married in Malibu—and he certainly couldn’t change his past—but he could introduce her to Johan Vanderwol, an extremely influential gallery owner and art collector. Travis had stopped one of Johan’s paintings from being slashed last year, and Johan had reacted as though Travis had saved his firstborn.

  As soon as Daniel’s set was completely in place, Travis headed back to his office to make the call. Johan picked up on the first ring. “Travis, great to hear from you. How are things?”

  “Great, thanks.” He hated asking for favors, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Amy. “Do you remember when you said if I ever needed anything, all I had to do was call?”

  “Of course. Anything I can do for you, just name it.”

  “There’s an artist I’d like for you to meet with. Amy Woodford. I’m not asking you to buy her work, or host a show for her, but if you could take a look at her paintings, it would mean the world to her.” He paused before adding, “And to me.”

  “We’re having a showing for a local artist tonight,” Johan said. “Why don’t you ask Amy to come by and say hello?”

  After thanking Johan, Travis dialed Amy’s cell. He hadn’t needed to look up the number—not when he still remembered it by heart. So many times over the past three years, he’d nearly called her, just to hear her voice. Now, he finally had a reason to call.

  “Is everything okay for the wedding?” she asked when she picked up. “I’ve just returned from tea with Maya’s bridesmaids, and I didn’t think to check my phone until now.”

  “Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong. The opposite, in fact. I just got off the phone with a guy I know who runs an art gallery downtown. They’re having a show tonight, and I mentioned you. He’d like for you to come by and introduce yourself.”

  “You…you did that for me?”

  “Of course I did.” He wished she knew that he’d do anything for her.

  “I’d love to go,” Amy said. “Thank you so much for calling him on my behalf.” There was a short pause, and then she asked, “Will you go with me to introduce us in person?”

  Travis had been thinking only of how good it would be for Johan to see Amy’s paintings. But now that she had asked him to join her, despite knowing better than to keep putting himself in the path of temptation, there was only one response he could give her.

  “I would love to.”

  Chapter Eight

  The gallery was incredibly impressive, one of the top art spaces in Los Angeles. So impressive, in fact, that people were lining up outside to get in. Amy could barely believe the owner actually wanted to talk to her.

  Travis was wearing a dark suit that made it hard for her not to stare and drool over how handsome he was. She’d done her best to dress for the occasion by borrowing one of Maya’s cocktail dresses, and it had been well worth squeezing into it just to hear Travis say she looked beautiful when he came to pick her up. Thankfully, Maya had been out, or she would have surely given him the third degree.

  He led the way to the door, ignoring the line. The security staff waved them through, giving him nods of recognition as they passed.

  “You know them?” she guessed.

  He nodded. “I’ve worked with them before.”

  Inside, the gallery had used lighting and mirrors to optimize each work of art. Men in expensive suits and women whose dresses surely hadn’t been borrowed from a friend stood chatting, champagne glasses in hand. Quite a few of the latter seemed to be looking at Travis instead of the art, obviously wishing they could take him home instead.

  “Hello, Travis.” The woman who had come up to them was not only beautiful and well dressed, but her jewelry alone must be in the six figures. Amy thought she looked familiar, but she couldn’t imagine where they might have met in the past. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

  “Hello, Helen,” Travis replied in a friendly but not at all obsequious way. “Good to see you. This is Amy Woodford.”

  He didn’t say that she was an old friend this time, and guilt pricked her at how she’d ripped into him for it at the café. If only she’d understood then how conflicted he was over his past.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Amy.” Helen’s smile was friendly, which helped put Amy more at ease. Turning back to Travis, the woman asked, “Are you here running security for someone? Or to pick up some art?”

  “Neither. Amy’s an artist, and Johan would like to meet with her.”

  “Wonderful,” Helen said. “I hope we’ll see your work hanging here soon, Amy.”

  It was only after the woman had walked away that Amy realized where she’d seen her before. Helen Polland had been in so many movies that seeing her in real life was more than a little surreal. Travis, on the other hand, treated chatting with a major movie star like it was no big deal.

  As they made their way through the gallery, plenty of other movie and TV stars, musicians, and athletes came up to Travis to chat as though greeting an old friend. For the first time, Amy understood just how famous his clientele had been. Whether he was speaking with a director whose latest movie was a box office smash or a rapper with a massive business empire, Travis was perfectly relaxed. Meanwhile, Amy had to work at not embarrassing herself by fangirling all over the stars.

  “Are you doing okay?” Travis asked her as they headed up the stairs
and toward the back of the building.

  “I’m a little overwhelmed,” Amy said. And not only because of all the star power in the gallery.

  Amy couldn’t help but compare the art in the gallery to her own work—and what she saw had her feeling more worried by the moment. The paintings on display were so powerful, with such bold use of color and such clear emotion.

  Was there any way she could ever belong here?

  On top of that, being so close to Travis again tonight—every time he put his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the crowd, her whole body heated up—she had to exert every ounce of control not to throw herself into his arms and beg him to kiss her.

  “Don’t be nervous.” Travis reached out to touch her arm, giving her the comfort she so badly needed but also inadvertently setting off more sparks inside of her. “Johan is going to love your paintings. You’re every bit as good as these other artists. Better, if you ask me.”

  Without Travis by her side, Amy might have turned and run rather than brave meeting the man at the center of all of it, directing the party the way a conductor might direct an orchestra. Did Travis have any idea how much she’d always appreciated his support?

  Johan, wearing a bespoke suit, had sandy-blond hair that fell to his shoulders. He smiled at Travis. “Glad you could make it.” He turned to Amy, holding out his hand. “You must be Amy. Travis neglected to tell me you were so lovely.”

  “Easy, Johan,” Travis said mildly when Johan held on to her hand a few moments longer than was strictly polite.

  As soon as the gallery owner let go, Travis put an arm around her shoulders…and the glimmer of hope inside Amy did a small twirl at his obviously jealous reaction to Johan’s flirting.

  “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me,” Amy said, trying not to stutter over her words in nervousness.

  “After Travis and I spoke, I looked up some of your work. What I saw was quite good.” The blood rushing in her ears made it hard for her to hear him add, “Perhaps you could bring me a few paintings to see in person later this week?”

  “Of course I can!” Her voice was a little too high-pitched, borderline squeaky, but she couldn’t help it. Not when this was far more than Amy had hoped might come out of the evening.

  “I’m sorry I can’t speak more with you tonight.” Johan gestured to the party. “But be sure to call me to set up a time to meet. And don’t be a stranger, Travis.”

  Once Johan had gone, and they’d left the crowded gallery to get some fresh air, Travis said, “That seemed to go well, didn’t it?”

  “I can’t believe how well it went!” She couldn’t keep from throwing her arms around him—just as she couldn’t help but relish every precious moment in his arms. “Thank you so much for contacting him on my behalf.”

  “It’s the least I could do.” His expression was so serious, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. “I wish I had been a better friend to you these past years, Amy. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t.”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “I’m not thinking about the past anymore. You shouldn’t either. The only thing that matters is right now.”

  Above them, the moon was full, shining shafts of light down onto the water so that it seemed more silver than dark blue. The night was perfect, cloudless without being cold, the stars above just right.

  And it suddenly seemed the most natural thing in the world to replace her finger on his lips with a kiss that tasted even more perfect than she remembered.

  Only this time, Travis kissed her back.

  Thank God.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly against him as their kiss spun on and on, growing more passionate by the second. Standing in the gallery’s garden space, which was getting more crowded by the second, they had to stop kissing too soon and move apart.

  Staring at each other in silence, Travis didn’t seem to know what to say or do next. That was fine, though, because after a kiss that had been both sweet and sinful, Amy didn’t exactly know either.

  All she knew for sure right now was that she’d never felt more hopeful.

  And that she’d never been more in love.

  Chapter Nine

  The next day, Amy couldn’t stop smiling while she and Travis worked together to hang her painting of Maya and Nolan. She’d been worried that things might be awkward in the aftermath of their unexpected kiss, but if anything, Travis seemed more at ease with her than before.

  Almost as though their kiss had broken the ice that had built up between them over the past three years.

  Not, of course, that either of them had actually talked about the kiss. Maybe, she thought with another smile, talking was overrated, and they should just stick to kissing for a while…

  “Does that look right?” Travis lifted her painting into position as carefully as he would a Van Gogh or a Matisse.

  “It looks perfect from where I’m standing,” Amy assured him, and she didn’t just mean the picture. But she didn’t want to say too much, too quickly. Not when what was growing between them again felt so fragile and precious—and she didn’t want to make the mistake of rushing things the way she had before.

  Just as Liz had promised, the Married in Malibu workshop had been well equipped with everything they needed to frame her painting. She had chosen a relatively simple wooden frame design, then painted it to match the colors of the wedding backdrop.

  “If you could hold it still for another couple of seconds,” he said, “I’ll get the last hangers in the wall.”

  Though he was pounding the hammer just inches from her fingers, Amy felt perfectly safe. There was no one else she would have trusted as much with her hands, or the painting she had worked so hard on. Only Travis.

  They had just finished hanging the painting and covering it with dark, velvet fabric Meg had embroidered around the edges for an elegant touch when Liz brought in a stack of beautifully wrapped wedding gifts.

  “These have been collecting all week, and I was thinking the perfect spot for them is on the table beneath your painting, Amy.”

  After Liz had artfully arranged the gifts, then headed back to her office, Amy turned to Travis. “I’m sure this wasn’t what she intended, but the setup makes it look like my gift is the most important one here.”

  “That’s because it is,” he replied. “Your painting is going to wow everyone here, most especially the bride and groom. It’s absolutely breathtaking.”

  In that moment, she could have sworn that the look he gave her said the painting wasn’t the only thing there he found breathtaking. And when Travis looked at her like that, it was hard not to think that maybe, just maybe, things might work out for them this time.

  * * *

  “Thanks for standing in for Maya and Nolan,” Nate said from his digital command center. Above Travis and Amy, the lighting rig flickered to life. “It’s so hard to get the spotlighting correct without an actual couple on the dance floor.”

  Travis couldn’t help but be pleased when Amy had agreed to dance with him in the middle of the reception hall this afternoon. Nor could he stop wishing Nate’s casual use of the word couple could actually become real for them, even if there must surely be a man out there who would be better for Amy.

  As he drew her close, he remembered how good kissing her had felt last night…and thought how easy it would be to lean in just that little bit more to kiss her again.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Nate called out, momentarily breaking the spell. “A slow dance is the perfect speed for me to calibrate the lights.”

  As the music played on and they continued to sway together, Travis simply didn’t have the will to deny himself the pleasure of being so close to her. Especially when her lips brushed against his neck, soft and delicate—and more than enough to drive Travis wild with longing.

  When the music stopped, it took him a handful of beats to notice. His security career hinged on paying close attention to his surround
ings, but when Amy was near, she was the only thing that mattered.

  “Would you like to get dinner tonight?” The words came before he could hold them back, just as they had the night she’d surprised him by showing up in the rain.

  Only today, instead of running away, she gave him a smile that was brighter than any spotlight could ever be as she nodded and said, “I would love to.”

  * * *

  They found a cozy restaurant with a corner booth where they could talk about everything and nothing. Though their meals were delicious—Amy had the vegetable sauté, while Travis opted for steak—what they ate didn’t matter.

  All that mattered was how natural it felt when he reached across the table to take her hand…and how wonderful it was to be with him again.

  Three years ago, when she had thrown herself at him on the beach, he’d panicked, deciding it was better to send her running than tell her about his past. Tonight, however, she not only had much better insight into his heart—but she also couldn’t stop thinking about what Maya had said. You have to take a chance on true love with Travis again. Or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

  She barely tasted her desert, too busy looking across the table at him. Too busy thinking about how much she loved being with him. Too busy thinking about how much she wanted him.

  When they finally finished their meal, she was mustering up her bravery to say she didn’t want to go back to the beach house just yet, but Travis beat her to it.

  “Come home with me, Amy.”

  It was the most natural thing in the world to go.

  * * *

  Travis could see Amy taking in the details of his house with her artist’s eye—the leather couches and wood furniture, gifts given from grateful former clients, photographs of some of the exotic locales he’d visited as a bodyguard. They weren’t so much memorabilia as reminders that he’d done his job well and kept people safe. It was strange to think that this was the first time she’d been in his home.