Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (41 page)

AFTER MUCH DEBATE
and several false starts, I found myself sitting in the middle of my bed, knees tucked under me and a large glass of chianti on the bedside table, just in case. It was nearly midnight and I honestly didn’t care that I’d spent the better part of the day staring at the little envelope from across the room like it was a rattlesnake, just waiting to strike.

Whatever else had happened, I knew deep down that the contents of that unassuming looking envelope had the capability to devastate me all over again. But I had to open it, there was no way I could live with not knowing.

My hands shook as I slowly slid a nail under the edge of the flap, the sound of the glue giving way seemed unnaturally loud in my quiet apartment, the only sound besides my galloping heart.

I removed the note card, and flipped it open to find small, precise letters—Spencer’s careful script. A flash of movement caught my eye and I realized something had fallen onto the comforter.

A tiny dried buttercup.

I retrieved it and sat it atop the discarded envelope. Swallowing thickly, I reached over and snared my wine glass, taking a large gulp before allowing myself to focus on what he’d written. My pulse roared in my ears as my eyes started to move across the page, Spencer’s voice following along in my head.

Tears began falling before I’d finished the first sentence, and they continued long into the night.

Sweet Amelia,

It has become one of the greatest regrets of my life that I never got to know you. I find myself missing your smile, though I only ever witnessed it from photos.

Your smile reminds me of hers.

I’m feeling very lost right now, and I have nowhere else to turn so I’m asking you for your help, sweet girl.

I need you to watch over your mother and keep her safe until I can find my way back into her heart. Please help me find the words to make her understand that nothing is more important to me than her.

And, if she chooses a future that doesn’t include me, help her see that no love is ever wasted. Especially not my love for her.

Rest well, angel. Though I never got to hold you in my arms, I hold you in my heart always.

Spencer

Spencer

Six weeks later...

DENSON, VIRGINIA WAS
and is a place for life altering moments. I’d felt it in my bones the first time I’d set foot in this place, even after a twenty year absence, and long before Clay ever laid eyes on Alison Walker.

Something about Denson facilitated healing.

And today, under the full leaves of the massive Willow tree planted long ago by Clay’s mother, it would forge a lifelong bond that left us all in awe. My best friend had found his purpose, his reason, and his meaning with Ali. I’d never been happier for him.

And never more envious.

The ceremony would be small, just a few of us who are the closest to the couple. This would be the ‘real’ wedding, the one that Clay’s mother had dreamed of for her son so many years ago. Ali had finally caved and allowed her mother to plan a big, fancy wedding in the city but insisted that she have her tiny wedding beneath the willow, first.

Eileen hadn’t even balked when Ali told her she wasn’t on the guest list for the Denson wedding. It wasn’t ostentatious enough for her upper-class tastes.

Each of them had chosen three people to attend as their guests. Talia, Teach’s wife Marilee, and Ali’s dad for the bride. Gran, Brant, and myself for Clay. Teach was also in attendance.

It would be the first time I’d seen Talia since things went to shit.

I’d received an email from her a few days after her visitors left, no text in the body of the email but there were more than a dozen pictures attached showing Cameron enjoying the various excursions I’d planned out for them.

Talia’s smiling face was noticeably absent, an intentional omission I was sure.

That evening, I gave in and called her, but she was either at work or screening because I got her voicemail. I left a message and waited to see if she replied. She didn’t. The next day, I sent a text with the one sentence that told her all she needed to know.

I will never give up on us.

I hadn’t expected a reply, and I didn’t get one, but that was okay.

I had a plan.

She wanted me, I knew she did, but she was still so scarred by her past that she was afraid to take the chance. I understood that, really I did. I’d felt the same way until her.

And she was braver than she realized, I just had to make her see that.

I pulled my truck—no way was I driving the Chevelle down the driveway to Clay’s property—under the carport at the rental cabin, the same one we’d used when Clay was here working last summer, and got out, snagging my garment bag from the back seat as I did.

The ladies were preparing at Teach’s house—Teach was Ali and Talia’s former college professor and the reason that the couple had met in the first place.

Clay opened the door and grinned. “Hey, fucker. ‘Bout time you got here.” He eyed the bag in my hand, laughing. “That’s not the castrated tux, is it? Because even though we’re going informal today, I do have to ask that you keep your mouse in its house.”

“Blow me,” I groused, pushing by him and making my way to the second floor. I nodded to Brant—who was sitting at the small table in the kitchen, pressed, dressed, and smiling broadly at our banter—before turning back to Clay. “The bedroom back here open or should I use one of the ones downstairs?” I gestured to the hallway that ran beside the kitchen.

He held up an arm, ushering me down the hall with a big, goofy grin. “Either one is fine, Brant’s already ready and has his stuff tucked back into his truck.”

I frowned at the statement before nodding. “Ah, I get it. So he won’t have to come back here and be exposed to your post-wedding shenanigans. Good idea. I think I’ll do the same. I need to get some work done, anyway.” I walked into the bedroom and plopped my stuff onto the bed.

Clay’s grin bordered on salacious as he looked around the room, gaze pausing on every flat surface from the bed to the dresser and even the damn TV stand. I groaned and gave him an annoyed look. “You two have fucked in here haven’t you?”

He cocked a brow and pursed his lips, thinking. “Maybe.” There was no uncertainty in his voice.

“I think I’ll switch rooms.” I reached for my things but his laughter gave me pause. “The other rooms, too? This place has four bedrooms, Clay. Shit, did you have to defile them all?” He and Ali had been in town for two days and apparently, they’d been busy.

He laughed even harder, not the least bit apologetic. “If you’re worried about spending time in places we’ve had sex, maybe you should dress in the garage.” He frowned for a second. “Nope. Not there either, got that one last summer. Come to think of it, if we factor in all the places we’ve ever christened, I’d avoid the kitchen counter, the table, the couch...” He held his hand up and counted off places. “The pool, the deck, all the bathrooms, the washing machine...” He snapped his fingers, pointing skyward. “And you might want to stay out of your office back in Richmond.”

I stopped him when he was about to have to take off his shoes to continue counting on his damn toes. Still a sex-fiend. “Maybe I’ll just dress in my truck.”

His grin froze and he looked up at the ceiling, whistling softly.

“You son of a bitch! In my truck? When? Where?” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Never mind, don’t tell me but you owe me the best detailing job money can buy. Asshole.”

He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “What can I say, man, when opportunity knocks, she and I answer. Just be glad it wasn’t the Chevelle.”

I glared at him until I saw a flash of genuine fear in his eyes.

He held his hands up in supplication. “Come on, even I wouldn’t cross that line. I know not to fuck with—or in—that car. You barely let anyone sit in the damn thing. Shit, you never even let Ivey drive it and you were married to her.” He flinched when he realized he’d brought up ‘she-who-must-not-be-named.’

“True, but Talia drove it several times. With and without me,” I told him matter-of-factly, not sure why I’d mentioned it. Every time I thought of her my chest tightened and I had trouble breathing.

Clay stood there looking at me like I’d just kicked him in the balls or something. He opened his mouth several times, only to snap it closed again. He looked like a fucking fish, gasping.

I turned back to my stuff and tossed over my shoulder, “You want to give me some privacy? We haven’t dressed in front of each other since high school gym class.”

There was no indication he’d heard me. He just stood there gawking. Eventually, he shook himself and glared over at me. “No, dammit. You can get ready in a minute. I want to hear more about you handing over your keys to Talia, because I think you’re shitting me.
I’ve
never even driven that car and I’m your best friend. When I tried to snake the keys, you threatened to put my balls in my own damn bench vise. And you’re standing here telling me it’s not okay for me to drive it but you had no problem letting her behind the wheel?”

“That’s what I’m telling you.” I turned to stare him down in challenge, I wanted him to just let it go. I should never have told him anything about Talia. He still believed it had been a casual thing, I made sure of that. And now I’d opened a damn can of worms.

“Nope. That’s
not
what you’re telling me right now.” He studied me with narrowed eyes, sounding so condescending that I wanted to kick his ass.

“Pretty sure it is, Clay. Just drop it. It didn’t mean anything.” I unzipped the garment bag and pulled out my khakis and dress shirt, smoothing them out on the bed with my suddenly nervous hands.

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nuh-uh. You didn’t just tell me about letting her drive, you stood right there and told me you’re in love with that woman. Seriously, hopelessly, share-your-fucking-muscle-car in love with her.” I glared at him through slitted lids and he chuckled, stepping in close and pointing an accusatory finger at my chest. “I should kick your ass for this, you know. Now I have to start my marriage by telling my bride that she was right. That’s a dangerous precedent to set, Spence.”

I creased my brow and started to argue, when what he said hit me. “What was she right about?” I had to know, what had she and Talia talked about? If anyone knew Talia’s heart other than me, it was Ali.

Clay stepped back and shrugged, still smiling. “She’s convinced that the two of you are meant for each other. Something about how you’ll heal each other or some shit like that. I told her she was crazy. I never thought you’d get serious about anyone again, not after...” He trailed off thoughtfully and cleared his throat. “I’m glad she was right, though. Truth is, I was kind of pissed when I thought you’d just had a fling with Talia. She’s just not the kind of woman you do that with. I really like her, have from the start. She’s an awesome person who’s taken a lot of hard hits. She deserves to be happy.” He tipped his head at me. “So do you, fucker.”

I picked up my duffel and removed my shaving kit, deciding at the last second to take one more pass at my beard. I wanted everything perfect when I saw her again. I set it aside and grabbed Clay by the arm, turning him toward the door. “Tell Ali I agree about Talia deserving happiness but I’m still not sure she will ever want that with me.” I paused as I walked back into the hall. “All I can do is try—and believe me, I am—but in the end, the choice isn’t really mine to make and all the trying in the world might not be enough.”

Clay didn’t say anything further as I escorted him out of the room and left him standing in the hall, shutting the door behind him. He meant well, but he had to go.

I couldn’t let him see how terrified I was that I would fail at this.