Barefoot in Lace (Barefoot Bay Brides Book 2) (36 page)

“He called last night.” Gussie climbed into the driver’s seat, thinking of the blissful, tearful, awesome days they’d all shared up in Boston. “He’s nailed down that construction job and he’ll be here this weekend to start. Isn’t that awesome? He’s really coming to Mimosa Key.”

“How long will he be here?”

“I don’t know,” Gussie said. But since they’d never been closer, she hoped a good, long time.

“Will he be here in time for Willow’s wedding?” Alex asked.

“Maybe.”

“That’d be nice. I wish…” Alex suddenly reached over and turned on the car radio.

Gussie snapped it off. “You wish your uncle was going to be here.”

“Of course not.”

“Alex, I know what you were going to say. You miss him.”

“
Miss
isn’t exactly the word,” she admitted. “But he did kind of grow on me.”

“Welcome to the club.”

Alex grew silent, as she often did when the subject of Tom came up. It was easier for both of them to pretend he’d never existed, but, of course, that wasn’t feasible. He’d come back, eventually. But neither of them knew what that would mean, if anything.

Tamping down a cocktail of uncertainty and disappointment, Gussie pulled through the gates of Casa Blanca and drove to the far end of the parking lot to the outdoor camp check-in.

“Oh, look, there’s the speller,” Alex said as she gathered her stuff. “Dylan Ivory.”

“Did you know his dad is Nate Ivory of the Ivory Glass billions?” Gussie asked.

“He’s one of those billionaires?” Alex’s eyes grew wide. “Wonder if he has any friends for you.”

Gussie smiled, a burst of affection for Alex exploding in her heart. “He has plenty of friends, all rich. They’re building a baseball stadium over on the east side of Barefoot Bay. But…” She had to be honest, since that had been her M.O. with Alex from the start. “I’m not interested.”

“You miss him, too, don’t you?”

And got direct questions in response. “Lesson number one, little grasshopper. Don’t fall in love with a guy who has ‘I want to be alone for the rest of my life so stay far away from me’ tattooed on his arm.”

Alex patted her hand. “I knew you were in love with him.”

Dang it! Had she said that? She barely admitted that to herself, except on lonely nights when she cried herself to sleep. Before she could answer, Alex was out of the car, saying hello to campers while Dylan Ivory danced around her singing, “H-E-L-L-O!”

Gussie took one second to enjoy the scene, then drove to park in the employee area. Willow was taking the week off to spend time with her parents, who were in town for the wedding, and Ari had a meeting on the mainland with a vendor, so Gussie skipped the office stop and headed straight to the bridal dressing room to get some things in order for this weekend.

Inside, the room was dim and cool, normally a sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of the resort. She stood perfectly still for a moment, closing her eyes to picture what would take place here in a few days, but found herself thinking about what
had
taken place in this room about a month ago.

TJ DeMille had gotten under her wig and under her shirt and under her skin.

“Ugh! Get over him already. Think about Willow.”

Following that self-imposed order, she went to the gown closet to retrieve the dress and hang it for some last-minute tweaks by Willow’s mother, Ona, who’d designed it exclusively for her daughter.

After draping the wedding gown on the dress form, she went back into the closet and lifted the veil off the mold and carried it out, holding the lace-trimmed tulle like precious cargo. She paused at the mirror, stopping at the very spot where Tom had removed her makeup and wig. After that, she’d never put a wig on again. And she’d toned down the makeup, too.

No more masks for Gussie McBain.

Why bother hiding behind wigs and makeup now that the whole world had seen her and, apparently, judged her acceptable? The world…but not the one man she wanted.

She pulled her hair forward over her shoulders in a way she rarely wore it because the style left her scar out in the open. But if she were getting married, this was how she’d wear it.

And she’d cover the spot with a veil.

Lifting the gossamer netting, she slipped it on, taking a moment to admire the vision, but suddenly she felt unstable. Knocked over by the sensation of longing, of desire, of envy even, for every woman who’d ever had this moment for real.

What would it feel like to be loved that much?

She spread the veil over her shoulders, lifted her chin to a better angle, and then—

Click.

She spun around at the sound.

Click.

There was no one there, but the distinct sound of a camera. A chill tiptoed up her spine, lodging at the base of her neck, sending a spray of goose bumps over her arm.

Click. Click. Click
. A man with a camera stepped out from behind the oversize cheval mirror. “What are you—”

He lowered the camera to show his face. Not a man…
the
man.

“—doing here?” The question ended with a hitch of disbelief and joy and love.

“Heard there was a wedding this weekend and thought you might need a photographer.”

Tom. She stared for a minute, not quite able to accept reality.

“We, uh, have one. Maggie’s back in town.” She dug for composure, finding nothing but happiness. Raw, real, full-body happiness. “What happened to your hair?”

He ruffled one hand through what was left of his locks, a quarter inch of black spikes that somehow managed to look exactly right on him. “Someone told me to cut it.”

Suddenly, she was aware that she stood like a little girl playing dress-up, in a veil that didn’t belong to her. She reached up to yank it off, but he held out his hand.

“Don’t. Please, don’t. I want that shot.”

No, no, he wasn’t doing this to her. Ignoring his request, she managed to get the veil off, carefully laying it over the counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I heard—”

“For real,” she interjected, maybe a little more sharply than she’d meant to.

He held up the camera. “I am offering my services for Willow’s wedding. Free of charge.” At her narrowed eyes, he added, “Although I may ask to dance with one of the bridesmaids.”

She let out the breath she’d probably been holding since he appeared. She wanted to reach for him and hold him and kiss him, but she shook her head to squash the urge. “So, how are you?”

“Lonely.”

“Just the way you like it.”

He didn’t answer, but looked hard at her, then lifted his camera. “Don’t move.”

“Tom, don’t—”

“Please.” He took a step closer. “I want to get that look on your face.”

“My ‘I can’t believe you showed up out of the blue’ look?” Is that how it would be from now on? He’d pop in when he was
lonely
?

“The ‘you’re trying to hide how happy you are to see me’ look.” He put the camera on a chair and slid his hands into the pockets of khaki pants, staring at her. “I went to Greece.”

Her jaw opened a little in shock.

“You were right,” he said, taking another step closer. “You were right about everything, it turns out.”

Not exactly sure why that sounded like it was loaded with extra meaning, she waited for the rest.

“I spent time with my in-laws, and I got a letter from Ruthie.”

“What?”

He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. “It was addressed to Sophia, but she never got to read it.”

Gussie took a few slow breaths, steadying herself for what she was about to read.

The words ran together, until close to the end.

There is no one I’d want raising my daughter except my wonderful brother.

That sentence jumped out in painful clarity, stabbing her. “You’re taking her back?”

“I’m coming home.”

“This isn’t your home.”

“What do they say? Home is where the family is.”

“Heart,” she corrected. Like the one shattering in her chest.

“Same difference.” He closed the rest of the space, only the letter she held between them. “I’m supposed to raise Alex.”

Oh, Lord, it was one thing to lose him—or have him pop in to torture her periodically. But Alex, too? She already loved Alex.

And she already loved him. “Tom, I thought we’d agreed
I’m
supposed to raise Alex.”

“You are. You will.” He slid the letter out of her hands and let it flutter on top of Willow’s veil. “With me. Together. I sure as hell can’t do it alone.” Taking both her hands in his, he pulled her knuckles to his lips.

“But you do everything alone.”

“Not anymore.”

She wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe the insane pounding of her heart and the look of love in his eyes. “But, you know, that tattoo?”

“Oh, yeah, that.” He reached to the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt. “I got another one.” He unbuttoned and started rolling the material back on his other arm. “I got to thinking about how you always said I should come with an expiration date. So I went to my pal the tattoo artist in Cyprus and got one.”

She swallowed hard, finally looking at his exposed forearm. When would her time be up with him? Right then, it didn’t matter. She’d take anything. A day, a week, a month, a year.

Forever.

He ran his fingertip over the word, small but legible, purple and rimmed in the pinkness of a fresh tattoo. “I put this one in English so you can read it. Every day and every night, I hope.”

Forever
.

“You think you can keep me on the shelf that long, Pink?”

“Forever.” She almost sobbed on the word, the world blurry with tears and happiness and hope. “Tom, what changed?”

“Everything. Gussie, we both changed.” He reached for her head, threading her hair, letting his fingertips graze the scar he’d made her forget. He pulled her into him, whispering before his lips touched hers, “We changed each other.”

Yes, they did. They certainly did.

“Give me a chance to show you how much,” he whispered. “Give me a chance.”

Like there was ever a possibility she wouldn’t.

Chapter Thirty

“Where have you been?” Gussie barked the question when Ari came flying into the Barefoot Brides office, her long hair tumbling out of a ponytail, her shorts, T-shirt, and sneakers even more of a shock than the fact that she’d
finally
decided to show up for Willow’s wedding—an hour before they walked down the aisle.

Ari froze, her dark eyes wide. “What are you doing in here?”

“Better question, why aren’t
you
in the dressing room with the rest of the bridal party? Clean, showered, made up, and ready to put our dresses on for Willow’s wedding?” Her voice rose with the frustration she’d been feeling since not being able to reach Ari for the past few hours. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I was…out.”

Gussie glowered at her. “Do you mind telling me what is more important than the fact that one of your best friends is getting married and you are a co-maid of honor?”

Ari blinked guiltily. “I had to go somewhere.”

“Where?”

She bit her lip, giving her head a shake.

“Tell me,” Gussie ordered.

“Not important.”

Gussie’s blood pressure spiked. “I’ve been keeping Willow calm, assuring her you’d be here, lying for you when I couldn’t reach you so she didn’t become the freaked-out bride we all swore we’d never be, so yes, Arielle Chandler, you
are
telling me.”

“You’ll think I’m nuts.”

“Too late.” Gussie narrowed her eyes and gripped the paperwork for the florist that she’d come to retrieve. “What’s going on? Where were you?”

“I had to do something.”

“Now? Today?”

Ari held up her hands as if she had to stop Gussie’s onslaught. “I had to…” She closed her eyes. “I think I met him.”

“What?” Gussie’s screwed her face up, completely unable to follow the conversation. “You met who?”

“Him. I met…
him
. You know, him. My one, my only, my destiny.”

Gussie stared at her, delicately balanced between howling in laughter and screeching in frustration. “Ari, you know I think your new-age superstitions are precious and you believe in love at first—”

“No, I don’t. It’s not love at first sight. It might not be, anyway. It’s fate. It’s destiny. It’s—”

“Hogwash.” Gussie came around the desk, a rush of sympathy at the look of torment on Ari’s striking features. “You know what’s happening, don’t you? Willow is getting married. Tom and I are together. That leaves you as the only one of the three of us…”
Alone
. She didn’t want to use the harsh word, especially because Ari’s state of singlehood was ridiculously self-imposed. Men flocked to her, but her whacked-out beliefs in “a one and only” kept every potential guy at arm’s length.

Ari shook off the touch of sympathy. “I’m not mooning over the fact that my two best friends and business partners have found their mates, Gussie.”

“Mates. You make it sound like we’re dolphins, for crying out loud.”

Ari pressed her fists against her mouth. “But there’s a problem.”

“There always is. What? He’s the wrong sign? His aura is bad? What’s his fatal flaw?”

She shook her head again, not laughing like she usually would. “I think he’s going to hate me.”

“Sounds like the start of a fabulous relationship.” Gussie nudged her to the door. “You can tell me all about him on the way to the…what?”

All the color had drained from Ari’s face as she looked over Gussie’s shoulder. “Who…is…that?”

Gussie whipped around to look out the window, a smile pulling the minute she recognized the man who crossed the parking log. “Luke made it! He was supposed to get in this afternoon, but he didn’t show up at the apartment.” She turned back to Ari. “He’s here to…” Then she started laughing, giving Ari a gentle push. “I know, he’s hot. But, please, can we go before Willow hits Bridal Defcon 1?”

But Ari just stared, her jaw slack, the color still gone from her creamy, olive complexion. “That’s…Luke?”