Stop the Wedding! (23 page)

She swallowed hard.

“I wanted to believe that you were capable of those things I accused you of, because I wanted to find a reason to dismiss the way I’d begun to feel about you.”

Her heart jerked crazily, but she refused to allow her imagination to take flight. He only wanted for the two of them to be on civil terms. Clay picked up her hand gently and squeezed it. At his warm, powerful touch, all the misunderstandings and hateful words faded from memory. With a sinking heart, she knew she’d take whatever measure of friendship he had to offer, and would keep her feelings for him tucked away in her heart. In time, perhaps she could look upon him as a mere friend. At least they wouldn’t have to be adversaries.

“You once said that in my job, I was a glorified matchmaker,” he said. “That I knew when two people belonged together.”

He lifted her hand to his mouth for the briefest kiss, and her eyes widened in surprise—and anticipation.

“I believe you and I belong together, Annabelle, and even if you don’t feel the same, I had to come back and let you know how I feel. It’s the least I owe you after the way I treated you.” His chest rose with a deep inhale, then he gave her a smile so tender that moisture welled in her eyes. “Your heart calls out to mine, Annabelle. Heaven knows that I don’t deserve another chance with you, but if you’ll grant me one, I’d be the happiest man alive.”

Emotion clogged her throat. The words that escaped her were hoarse and hesitant. “But you said you don’t believe in happy endings.”

He cupped her chin and searched her face. “I love you, Annabelle. Do you have any similar feelings for me?”

She swallowed hard, then nodded tearfully. “Yes.”

His breath whooshed out. “Then I’m a believer.” He lowered his head and she met his lips for a kiss so intense, so full of promise and passion that she forgot they were standing in a church with an audience until her mother’s voice penetrated her senses.

“Annabelle!”

They parted in time for Annabelle to see something hurtling toward her. Out of pure instinct, she held out her hands…and caught her mother’s bouquet.

Epilogue

ANNABELLE LIFTED her glass of champagne toward Belle and Martin. “Happy anniversary!”

“Here, here,” Clay said, joining in the toast to mark the one-year milestone of their parents’ wedding. With his free hand, he squeezed Annabelle’s shoulders.

She smiled up at the man she loved with all her heart. With a little start, she noted an ease of tension around his deep blue eyes that even she hadn’t been aware of before. Realization dawned. Although Clay had wholeheartedly supported their parents’ wedding and hadn’t voiced any doubts since, deep down he must have harbored some measure of concern that his father would disappoint Belle and renege on his promise to her…on his promise to all of them. Unbeknownst to Annabelle, Clay must have set this date, their parents’ one-year anniversary, as a benchmark in his mind, because none of Martin’s marriages since his first had made it past this point. The fact that Clay had been figuratively holding his breath tugged on her heartstrings—he so wanted to believe in his father.

And now he did.

When Martin came over to hug his son, Annabelle happily released him, gratified that in the past year, father and son had developed the kind of relationship she knew Clay had always longed for.

Belle met her for a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, my love.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this, Mom.”

“We’re all counting the days until your employment contract is up with the state.”

“Forty-three days,” Annabelle said with a laugh. She, too, was counting, and her anxiety level grew every time she X’d another day off her calendar.

Belle shot a glance toward Clay. “Clay, especially, can’t wait until you’re free.”

Annabelle blushed. “Clay and I haven’t talked about what will happen when my contract expires. I like my house. And things have been good—he flies in every other weekend or so, and we Skype when he’s in Europe.”

“Still, it’s not the same as being together all the time.”

“I know,” Annabelle said, “but I’m not sure we should rock the boat.” Her stomach churned at the lie…what she wasn’t sure about was whether Clay had gotten over his aversion to marriage. She knew he loved her, but marriage—that was something else altogether. And she’d detected a recent change in his demeanor. He’d grown more quiet and distracted, which she’d attributed to an important deal he was trying to close that seemed to be requiring a lot of his time. But when she’d asked about it, he had been evasive about the details, citing confidentiality. And the last couple of times he’d visited, she’d caught him staring at her calendar where she was counting down the days of her contract. Was he feeling pressured?

Second guessing a happily ever after?

And truth be told, she still had her own issues with marriage and whether she was suited for it. She couldn’t imagine not being with Clay the rest of her life…but every day she saw firsthand how marriage changed people.

But not Martin and Belle, thank goodness, who were even more in love now than a year ago.

“What a beautiful cake,” Annabelle said, nodding to the gaily decorated layer cake on the table next to the pool where they were cooking out.

“The Nelsons sent it,” Belle said. “They’re the best neighbors Martin and I could ever have.”

Annabelle smiled, happy the young family who had moved into the home she’d grown up in had adopted Martin and Belle as grandparents.

Especially since she knew they were both eager for grandchildren of their own.

She lifted her glass for another sip of champagne, telling herself she shouldn’t be thinking about anything today except the happy occasion at hand.

“Let’s get those steaks on,” Martin said, moving toward the massive grill he commandeered whenever they cooked out. Clay seemed especially eager to help his dad. Annabelle tried not to feel slighted that he seemed to be avoiding her on this trip…after all, today wasn’t about them and their relationship.

She set aside her apprehension and focused on enjoying the evening. Belle and Martin were planning an extended trip to Los Angeles where Martin was filming a movie of the week. Belle was atwitter with excitement at the stars they would be socializing with while they were there, and how some of the female celebrities she’d idolized were in reality so down to earth, and had asked for her recipe for Tomato Cheese Pie.

After a dinner and dessert that left them all stuffed, she and Clay said goodnight to the happy couple and climbed into Clay’s pickup to head toward his Buckhead condo. Over the past year, he’d asked for her help to make the place more homey, but she still felt like a visitor there…unless she was in his arms in his king-sized bed.

She studied his handsome profile in the low lighting of the cab and gave in to the thrill that barbed through her every time she looked at him. Even after a year, he still moved her. Her body hummed in anticipation of their lovemaking later tonight—seeing each other so infrequently certainly kept the fires burning in that department. There were no questions about their physical compatibility…it was other areas of their relationship that she’d suddenly begun to question.

“It was a nice night, wasn’t it?” he asked.

“So nice,” she agreed. “Our parents are lucky to have found each other—they seem so simpatico in every respect.”

A few months ago, he might’ve reached over to clasp her hand and say they, too, were simpatico. He did reach over to wrap his big hand around hers, but he remained silent.

Annabelle’s heart squeezed. Then she looked out the window and squinted. “Are we heading north?”

He stared straight ahead. “I need to check on something at the property—do you mind?”

“Of course not.” But unease blipped in her stomach—was he trying to delay being alone with her in the condo? She squashed her unsettling thoughts, conceding she hadn’t seen the property in months. Since that first interrupted kiss next to the mossy log, they’d shared lots of stolen moments there in the grass…next to the creek…in the grass…in the grass.

At this late hour, though, he probably wanted to check on the irrigation system that fed the stands of bamboo that were proliferating on the land. He’d recently provided a sample of the bamboo to Zoo Atlanta for feeding the giant pandas who were finicky about their greens. Apparently, the bamboo had been a hit because zoo officials had contacted him to see how much more he could provide.

While she had been excited about the novelty of the project, she’d wondered if it had supplanted Clay’s plans for building a house there someday, if he was rethinking his future.

When they pulled onto the property and bumped along a dirt road, she was reminded how dark it could be away from the lights of the traffic and the city. The stars above them were like holes punched into an inky blue canopy. The headlights of the truck spot-lighted tall grass, rolling rises, and towering bamboo stands that had grown exponentially since the last time she’d seen them. She rolled down her window and leaned out to listen to the crickets and the grasshoppers that never slept. It was a perfect summer night—still warm from the day’s heat, but enough of a breeze to keep the humidity at bay.

“I’d almost forgotten how pretty it is,” she said, thinking how much she would miss it if…

If it turned out that she and Clay weren’t simpatico.

He slowed the truck to a stop next to a metal box the size of a small chest. He turned off the engine, but left the headlights on to guide his way to the box. After unlocking a small door on the box, he reached inside to pull a switch. A few yards away, a newly erected dusk to dawn light on a tall pole buzzed to life, illuminating the ground beneath it.

Annabelle climbed out of the truck and stared at the large area that had been staked off with yellow tape. “What’s this?”

“My house.”

Hurt stabbed her. So Clay was moving ahead with his plans, and he hadn’t even told her. She couldn’t look at him.

“Actually,” he added, his voice sounding hoarse, “it’s
our
house…hopefully.”

Her heart beat a tattoo against her breastbone as she swung her head around. “Hopefully?”

He bit into his lip and took her hand. “Annabelle, I know how you feel about getting married…and I’ve always felt that way, too.”

“Clay, I—”

“Please let me finish before I lose my nerve.”

She clamped her mouth shut. Clay, lose his nerve?

“I know this sounds old-fashioned to you, but I don’t want a long-distance relationship, and I don’t want us to just live together.” His throat convulsed. “I’d like for you to move back here when your work contract expires, but if not, I’m prepared to move to Michigan. So I thought I’d better ask before I broke ground on the foundation.”

Her mind swirled with his revelations. “Ask what?”

“Seeing our parents celebrate their anniversary today confirmed what I want for us.” He lowered to one knee and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket.

Annabelle inhaled sharply and her blood rushed in her ears.

He opened the box to reveal a sparkling diamond-studded band to perfectly complement her mother’s engagement ring. “Annabelle Coakley, will you marry me?”

She was speechless. A few minutes ago she was sure she was about to have her heart broken. And now, her heart was so big in her chest, it felt as if it might burst anyway. Any doubts she had about matrimony disintegrated when she looked into his eyes. How could she ever have thought she would be satisfied with anything less than being married to this man? She wanted to be legally bound to him…for better or for worse…for richer, for poorer…in sickness and in health…until death parted them…after many, many years in each other’s arms.

Still, she couldn’t resist toying with the man a bit—after all, she had a reputation to maintain.

She crossed her arms. “Marry you?”

He nodded solemnly, his expression anxious.

“Would I have to sign a prenuptial agreement?”

“No.”

“Would I have to change my name?”

“No.”

“And I wouldn’t have to move?”

“No.”

She pulled her hand over her mouth and pretended to consider her options, but the joy bubbling in her chest wouldn’t allow her to maintain the sham. She laughed through her fingers and Clay’s head came up.

“I’d marry you anyway, Clay Castleberry.” She went into his arms. He stood and spun her around, laughing. When he set her down, he pushed the ring onto her finger, then kissed her hard.

As his warm mouth moved over hers, Annabelle’s mind went back to the first time he’d kissed her and how far they’d come since that fateful day. That kiss had been born of lust, but this kiss was a promise of their life together. When they ran out of breath, they clung to each other.

“I was sure you’d say no,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ve been so worried. And afraid you’d be suspicious because planning the house has been taking so much time.”

She pulled back. “
This
is your confidential project?”

He nodded. “I’ve been working with the builder to get the housed sited.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the staked off area, then stepped over the yellow tape that delineated the outside walls. “I was thinking the front door would be there…and the kitchen would be there…and the living room would be there, with huge picture windows looking down the valley.” He stopped and looked up, his face going from hopeful to contrite. “But we can make any changes you want, of course.”

Annabelle laughed. “I’m sure it will be grand.” She glanced around, then gave him a mischievous smile. “And where will the bedroom be?”

He grinned and pointed to a corner. “Over there.” He twined their fingers and led her to a grassy spot. He held her gaze as he pulled his blue dress shirt out of his waistband and unbuttoned it. Her mouth watered as the flat planes of his stomach and broad chest were revealed. His amazing physique stirred her more now than the first time she saw him swimming in his pool, mocking her. Because now she knew the pleasure his body could deliver to hers.