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Beautiful Sacrifice

Page 20

by Jamie McGuire


  I dropped my bag. "Oh my God," I said, my feet carrying me straight for the door.

  Taylor beat me there, sliding open the glass.

  I stepped out, hearing songbirds and watching the fronds of the palm trees dance with the breeze that were wafting the smells of the ocean to our balcony. The private beach of the Ritz-Carlton was lined with beach loungers, umbrellas, Hobie Cats, and paddleboats. An impressive sailboat was docked not two hundred yards from swimmers, white paint proudly marking its name, Lady Lyndsey.

  "I don't think I've seen anything this beautiful before in person," I said, shaking my head in awe.

  "I have," Taylor said.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see him staring at me. I turned to him, letting his milk-chocolate eyes take in every detail of my face.

  "I'm so glad you're here. I was worried. For several days."

  "I told you I'd come. You bought the ticket. I wasn't going to stand you up."

  "After the other night--"

  "You drunk-texted me. There are worse things--like torture, for instance."

  A crease formed between his brows. "It's been a long week. I think I fell in love with you more every day. I guess there's some truth to that saying."

  "Distance makes the heart grow fonder?"

  "Yeah, and so does thinking you've lost the woman you're crazy in love with. When I was alone and even when I wasn't, I said some pretty awful things about you in my head, Falyn. I take them all back."

  I wondered what his crew and even his brother must think about me. I could only imagine what he'd said out of frustration.

  "I didn't dump you. We took a break, so you could think about something important."

  He blinked. "So ... we weren't ... we're still together," he said more to himself than a question. All the color drained from his face, and he backed away from me, sitting down hard in a wicker chair.

  "I wasn't clear. Either way, it wasn't fair. It was stupid and cruel, and ... I'm sorry."

  He shook his head. "You don't apologize. You definitely shouldn't apologize for this."

  I sat next to him. "What I did was shitty, no matter my line of thinking or my intentions. I'm just lucky you love me and that you're more patient than you let on."

  He stared at the floor and then smiled up at me. "Let's just pretend last week never happened. Fade out last Friday. Fade in the moment I saw you in the lobby." When I didn't respond, he continued, "I thought about it like you asked, and I don't feel any differently than the night I left."

  "You're sure?"

  He exhaled like the wind had been knocked out of him. "More now than ever."

  "Maybe it was a good thing then? The break?"

  "I don't know about that," he said, pushing the table between us back and pulling my chair closer to him. "But there's not a doubt in my mind about how much you mean to me. You're the last woman I ever want to touch."

  "I'm sorry," I said, unable to shake the guilt. "I just meant I should have listened to you. You were right about me trying to force it, and even though I didn't realize it, I was probably trying to push you away. I don't want you to leave me even if that makes me selfish."

  I leaned in, pressing my lips to his, and I sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.

  "It doesn't make you selfish, Falyn. I'm the selfish one. Jesus, I'm sorry, too. I just want to forget about it, okay? Can we do that? It's just you and me. Nothing else matters."

  As he held me in his arms, the world was right again. I was never so glad to be wrong.

  He pulled away with a frown. "I have to get around. The guys are all in Shep's room, getting ready." He stood up, leading me back into the room by the hand.

  I sat on the end of the bed, watching as he opened the closet and pulled out a plastic-covered tux. He held it up, shrugging. "America insisted we go traditional."

  "I'm looking forward to seeing you in that."

  "Fresh towels are in the bathroom if you want to take a shower before the ceremony. I've already had one, and I feel like I need another one."

  "Maybe you should take one with me?" I said, arching an eyebrow.

  He dropped the tux and rushed to kneel next to me. "We're okay, right?"

  I nodded.

  He planted a kiss on my lips. When he pulled away, disappointment flashed in his eyes. "I wish I could. The ceremony is in the gazebo on the beach. Just around the corner and down the stairs."

  "See you in ninety minutes," I said, waving to him as he walked backward through the door.

  When the door closed, I slipped off my sandals and padded across the tiles to the cold marble floor of the bathroom. The quiet allowed me enough time to think about my awkward reunion with Taylor, and a lump formed in my throat. Colorado Springs was a thousand miles away, and I couldn't seem to hide from the guilt. Instead of seeing it in my reflection in the mirror, it had been in Taylor's eyes.

  As glad as I was to see him and to know that he wanted me despite the knowledge that we would never have children, something still felt off. So many questions crowded my mind. Maybe I had hurt him beyond repair. Maybe what I had done to him changed him. Maybe it had changed us.

  My shirt stuck to my damp skin as I lifted the bottom hem. The air was so thick that it still covered me, even after I peeled off my clothes.

  I tried not to cry while in the shower, scolding myself for finding a way to be melancholy while in a marble bathroom under a shower with high water pressure instead of the antique plumbing in the loft. After a while, I reasoned that my face was wet anyway, and I was alone, so I might as well get it out of my system.

  So, I cried. I cried for Olive, for my parents, for what I'd done to Taylor. I cried for not being content before, and I cried because I knew we couldn't get that back. Being the first woman Taylor loved, I had no idea what it must have taken him to admit it to himself--or me. I had destroyed that trust, seemingly for no reason. I cried because I was angry. And then I cried for crying on a beautiful tropical island in a five-star resort.

  When I was all cried out, I washed, rinsed, and pulled on the lever, the stream of water disappearing as if it were never there, just like a Caribbean rain shower.

  I wrapped the fluffiest white towel I'd ever touched around my chest and stepped out, wiping the moisture from the mirror.

  There I was, a blurry mess, but this time, I had puffy red eyes. "Shit." I quickly wet a rag with cold water and held it against my eyes.

  When they looked almost back to normal, I combed out my wet hair and then used the hotel blow-dryer. The ceremony was in forty-five minutes. I had taken longer in the shower than I'd meant to.

  I rushed around the room, pulling on the maxi dress I'd borrowed from Kirby. The fabric was light and flowy, the empire waist making the V-neckline feel a bit more modest. My favorite part about it was the ombre design, the cream color darkening to pinkie-peach and then a dusty purple. It reminded me of a sunset on the beach, so that had automatically made it an appropriate choice.

  I twisted my hair into a sleek, low side bun, and I did my best to put on enough makeup to look a bit more formal. I sucked at being a girl.

  When Taylor had said to take the stairs around the corner and down to the beach, I hadn't realized there would be a hundred of them. I took my skirt in my fists and tried not to let my sandals slap against the smooth rock with every step. A small lizard scurried just in front of my feet, and I yelped.

  A hotel employee chuckled at me as he passed me, going in the opposite direction. I was glad he was the only witness.

  Finally reaching the walkway below, I caught a glimpse of white muslin blowing in the ocean breeze, and I headed in that direction. A handful of white chairs were positioned in front of a white gazebo, white fabric was draped around the pillars, and dozens of roses in muted tones covered the tie-downs.

  Jim sat alone in the front row, in the chair closest to the aisle, and I lumbered down the white-sand walkway, navigating it poorly in my shoes. When I finally reached him, he looked up at
me with a warm expression.

  "You made it," he said, patting the empty chair on his right.

  "I did. You're probably surprised, huh?"

  "I was hoping."

  I grinned, leaning away from him to see his expression. I didn't know him well enough to be certain that he wasn't being a smart-ass. "That's a nice thing to say."

  "Hi! I'm here!" a woman said, stumbling past Jim and me before falling into the chair next to me. "Whew!" she said, brushing her long dark curls behind her bare shoulders. She was wearing a white tank top with a long floral skirt. Her big ice-blue eyes overshadowed the intermittent batting of her lashes. She looked like a supermodel, but she moved like an overgrown teenager.

  "Yes, you are," Jim said, chuckling. "Rough morning, Ellie?"

  "Always. I've been in Shep's room, taking pictures. Hi," she said, one hand letting go of her very expensive camera long enough to greet me. "I'm Ellison, Tyler's friend. Date. Whatever."

  "Oh," I said, my body jerking with her firm handshake.

  A wry smile sharpened her beautifully bronzed features. "He's a good kisser, isn't he?"

  I blinked, completely taken aback by her mention of the mistake-slash-misunderstanding-slash-clusterfuck at Cowboys so many months before.

  "That was a long time ago. And an accident."

  Jim laughed harder, his belly bobbing. "Those damn boys. I don't know where they got it from. Not from me."

  "Not from their mother," Ellison said.

  I stiffened at the mention of Jim's late wife, Diane, but he grinned, his eyes lit only with fond memories.

  He tapped the gold band on his finger. "She was a good woman. But she would never have caught my attention if she were all good."

  "The boys definitely get that from you," Ellison said.

  I wondered how long she'd known Jim. She seemed familiar enough with him to give him a hard time, but Taylor had never spoken of her.

  She reached her arm behind me and squeezed, touching her cheek to mine. "It's so nice to meet the other half of Tyler's other half."

  Okay, maybe she's just overly familiar with everyone.

  Another woman approached us after taking a few pictures of the gazebo with her phone.

  Ellison scooted down, creating an empty chair between us. "Sit here, Cami."

  "Oh, thank you," Camille said.

  I had the feeling Cami meant more than just giving her a place to sit.

  Camille's razored haircut bounced when she sat, and then she tugged at the bodice of her strapless dress. Her arms were covered in dozens of tattoos--large and small, simple and intricate--that ran down to her fingers.

  She flashed a perfect smile, and I nodded.

  "Falyn," I said.

  "I'm Camille."

  "Which ..." I began but decided too late that it was an inappropriate question.

  "Trenton," she said.

  Ellison held up Camille's left hand. "They just got engaged! Can you freaking imagine?"

  "I don't ... know what you mean," I said.

  Jim laughed. "She means, the thought of marrying a Maddox boy scares her. And she should be worried. She's going to give in sooner or later."

  "According to Tyler," Ellison said.

  "You are not even fooling yourself," Camille quipped.

  Ellison just shook her head, still in good spirits.

  After a few minutes, an older couple arrived with another woman. Jim introduced them as his brother, Jack, and his wife, Deana. The woman was America's mother, Pam.

  I looked down at my phone, checking the time. It was only ten minutes before the ceremony.

  A fifth woman arrived, gripping her clutch and trying her damnedest to appear calm.

  "Liis!" Camille said, a hint of panic in her voice. She reacted to Liis's arrival, scooting away from me.

  "What?" Ellison said, moving to the last seat in the row. "I thought ..."

  Camille seemed to just realize what would come next when she settled into her seat.

  Liis stared in horror at the empty seat between Camille and me. Then she quickly sat down and looked forward.

  Camille and Ellison traded looks, Camille's cheeks flushing.

  Liis was stunning, her shiny black hair a beautiful contrast to her vivid purple dress. It wasn't hard to guess which brother she was with because Thomas had kissed her cheek before cutting across the gazebo's steps.

  "Hi, Liis," Jim said, leaning forward.

  She did the same, grabbing Jim's outstretched hand. Ellison watched the exchange with a warm smile, but Camille tried her best to ignore it.

  Uh-oh. Wonder what that's about?

  Music began to play from a few speakers placed on each side toward the front, and the pastor took his place, followed by the men.

  The groomsmen were in order by age from youngest to oldest. "Is that Shepley? The best man?" I asked Jim.

  Jim nodded, scanning all the boys like a proud father. I could see they were a close family, and I wondered how anyone managed to keep any secrets.

  Taylor looked incredible in his tux, but I felt weird thinking that because he looked exactly like Tyler, whose sort-of girlfriend was sitting two seats away from me. Taylor winked at me, and we all chuckled when the other brothers did the same at nearly the same time to their love interests.

  The wedding procession began, and I sat back and watched as Travis and Abby renewed their vows, pledging their love to one another. It was beautiful and raw and genuine. They were young, but the way they looked at each other was so touching that it made my heart hurt.

  They had a long future ahead of them, a future that included children and grandchildren. As far as I knew, Taylor was the only brother standing who was guaranteed not to have that same chance. There he stood, undeniably happy, as he watched Travis renewing his vows, peeking over at me when his brother said words like forever and always.

  Less than ten minutes after Abby joined Travis in the gazebo, the pastor instructed them to kiss, and we all cheered. Jim hugged me to his side, chuckling and wiping his eyes with his other hand.

  I held up my phone to snap a picture as Travis held Abby in his arms, sealing their future with a kiss. I made sure to get Taylor watching them with a grin in the shot.

  The wind blew Abby's veil as Travis leaned her back, and the pastor raised his arms.

  "I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Travis Maddox," the pastor said, struggling to be heard over the wind, the ocean waves, and the applause and wild cheering from Travis's brothers.

  I could hear nothing else but rejoicing as Travis helped Abby down the steps of the gazebo. They rushed past their delighted guests before disappearing behind a wall of tall bushes and palm fronds.

  The pastor descended the steps, standing in the aisle. "Mr. and Mrs. Maddox ask that you join them at the restaurant Sails for dinner and the reception. I speak for them when I say thank you for being present on this most special day."

  With his hands, he let us know we were free to go, and then Jim stood, prompting everyone else to stand as well. The men stood around with their hands in their pockets while the women gathered their purses and attended to their smeared mascara.

  The brothers relaxed, taking the few steps to the front row.

  I held up my phone to Thomas and Liis. "Say cheese!"

  Thomas stood behind Liis, enveloping her in his arms, and kissed her cheek.

  I snapped the picture and then flipped my phone around to show them the result. "Perfect."

  Thomas hugged her to his chest. "She is."

  "Aw, cute," I said.

  Someone tapped on my shoulder.

  When I saw it was Taylor, I hugged him, feeling the stiff fabric of his tuxedo beneath my fingers. "Are you hot?" I asked.

  "Baking."

  "Well, you look intolerably sexy," I said quietly.

  His eyes burned when they met mine. "Yeah?"

  "There is something to be said about not having all this beauty outside. Makes it easier to stay inside."

  Taylor p
ulled me against him. "I'm flexible. There's a perfectly good beach over there."

  Jim clapped his hands and rubbed them together, reminding us other people were around.

  But no one was paying attention to our quiet flirtation. Instead, people seemed to notice the palpable tension between Thomas and Liis, and Trenton and Camille.

  "Grab your ladies, boys," Jim said. "I'm starved. Let's eat."

  Walking hand in hand with Liis, Thomas followed his father, Trenton, and Camille.

  "What is all that about?" I asked Taylor.

  "Oh, Liis and Camille?"

  I nodded.

  Ellison leaned in. "They both dated Thomas. It's going to be awkward for a while, but it'll get better."

  "Well, you've both kissed the same guy," Tyler said.

  Ellison playfully punched him, but the contact still made a thud.

  Tyler held his stomach, startled. "Oh!"

  Taylor cackled and then interlaced his fingers in mine, and together, we strolled to Sails, the restaurant parallel to our building. The patio was on the opposite side, and the twins sat at one of the empty tables marked Reserved for the reception.

  Seconds after we sat down, a server approached to take our drink orders.

  "Whiskey," Taylor said. "Neat."

  "We have a nice Irish Jameson Eighteen."

  "Sounds good," he said. He was smiling, but his tone and the skin around his eyes told a different story.

  The server looked to me.

  "Just a water, please."

  "Yes, ma'am. Flat or sparkling?"

  "Sparkling," I said. At least that would feel a little more like I was celebrating with everyone else.

  Liis and Thomas were across the way, seated with Shepley and America and Shepley's parents. Looking content and in love, Camille and Trenton were chatting with Jim two tables away, completely oblivious of Thomas and Liis at the other table. Whatever awkwardness lived between the two couples must have been one-sided, but I was only speculating.

  Taylor pulled off his tuxedo jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down. He leaned over, pointing to his bow tie, and I helped him loosen it along with his top button.

  "Goddamn, I'm glad you're here," he said, leaning the remaining inches to kiss the corner of my mouth. "I was really sweating it until you texted me."

  "I told you I would come."

 

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