Shayla's Story (The Mathews/Clemmins Family Series) (12 page)

He quickly
clarified. “I was in a hurry, trying to get to Tracy’s graduation, so I took a
short cut through a seedy part of town. I passed by a convenient store and this
guy was screaming at a woman half his size. He slapped the shit out of her so
hard she fell to the ground. Before I realized what I was doing, I had the guy
on the hood of the car.
Then
the
crazy chick started attacking
me
.”

 
Shayla gasped in surprise. “The lady you
were trying to help?”

“The pros-ti-tute!”
JC bit off one syllable at a time.

“The cops showed up
and took all three of us to jail. Fortunately, my dad had a lot of friends.” He
tugged her closer, his hot breath gusting hard against her cold cheek. “What
were you expecting? Bank robber?”

She giggled next to
his ear. “Superhero.”

Shayla’s main
priority should have been the wedding getting ready to ensue, but her thoughts
split like the bow slicing through the waves, parting the sea.
How is it possible to feel this magnitude of
happiness? This type of family isn’t supposed to exist!
Men like John only
lived in fairytales and she stopped believing in those when she was seven.
 

Her nerves were strung
tight with sensory overload. Swathed in his warm, woodsy scent and powerful
arm, she felt herself yielding to the rush of passion he unlocked inside her.

For several years
the ocean provided her with inner solitude, but not even the turquoise water
surrounding the boat would settle her anxiety, and this new brand of desire. He
sat so close, yet it wasn’t nearly close enough. She trembled, not from the
biting cold, but from the lust. She wanted to feel his skin on hers, inside of
her. Visions of climbing naked onto his lap and kissing him the night before saturated
her thoughts. All Shayla could do was stare straight ahead and smile somberly
as her heart spurred in frantic beats.

After docking, the girls
gathered their bouquets of flowers. Everyone slipped off their shoes, leaving them
on the beach. The Levi’s daughter, Kim, carried a wicker basket full of rose
petals and their son, Tommy, gripped his guitar as they made their way up the
sandy path. One by one, they crested the hilltop. However, Shayla found herself
hanging back, not wanting to go without John.

Tommy and Tess’s boat
motored closer to shore. The captain of the ferry handed John a gorgeous
bouquet of red roses that he cradled in the crook of his arm like a sleeping
baby. He gave her a half-smile. “I’ve gotta stay and escort my mom up to the
pavilion, Shay.”

“I know.” The words of
understanding slipped from her lips, but Shayla’s feet remained planted in the
white sand. She fiddled with his collar and adjusted the single red rose
attached to his black shirt. Soft strums of the guitar in the distance blended
with the lapping of waves on the hull of the boat. Her nose twitched as she held
back sniffles.

“You okay?” With a
sympathetic gaze, John brushed a falling tear from her cheek.

She nodded then
frowned with a slight shake of her head. “I don’t know what I am right now. I
just feel all weird and confused.”

She wiped her nose
with the tissue she held balled in her hand.

He hooked his finger
beneath her chin, raised her gaze.

“It’s just…you’re so
tough, yet sweet and you’re so good-looking and your family—” She hesitated,
adding in a quiet whisper, “Are you really like this?

 
She provoked a slight grimace from him, and
his eyes tugged into a deep squint. “Yes, baby. I’m real.”

No man had ever
called her baby, and she was certain she would’ve found it insulting if they
had. But the way he said it launched fireworks through her veins. “I mean
honestly? All the time?”

“This is who I am. I
sure as hell wouldn’t put on an act or pretend to be something I’m not. Not for
anyone.”

A strange, unfamiliar
feeling of satisfaction rippled down her spine. She quivered. Shayla dug her
toes in the sand, glancing sideways at the small boat approaching the beach. Feeling
the smooth texture of his skin against her face and the warmth of his breath at
her ear, she released a small, pleasurable sigh.

“Today is today.
We’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Okay?” He placed a branding hot kiss on
her neck. “Go on, I’ll meet you up there.”

Comforted by the
mere tone of his voice and his nearness, she gave a slight nod. Clutching the
edge of her dress, she trotted up the firmly packed path, calling over her
shoulder, “I’ll see you up there.”

****

The ceremony took
place amidst an ancient ruin, made only more breathtaking over time. Scattered
rubble surrounded the open limestone pavilion and three massive pillars
remained standing at the entrance. The wedding party stood in front of the
pillars in a mix of dramatic colors, all standing out against the paleness of
the aged marble. The white and black on the bride and groom contrasted with
azure bridesmaid dresses and blood-red roses.

Applause erupted as
the happy couple engaged in their first kiss as husband and wife.
This is what true love is supposed to feel
like.
Overwhelmed by feelings of respect and adoration, Shayla let tears
fall to the weathered marble beneath her bare feet. She stood paralyzed, unable
to take her eyes off John. When he turned to look at her with a stare mirroring
her own, Shayla’s heart soared.

The fiery orange sun
began to sink into the Aegean Sea as they boarded the ferry back to the
mainland. The reception was at a restaurant overlooking the edge of a cliff
near the outskirts of the village. The short drive leading up the winding road was
filled with warm hearts and subtle smiles.

The orange glow of
heaters and tiny white lights strung from tree branches illuminated the cozy
outdoor patio. The dreamy vision stopped each of them in their tracks as they
walked through the set of open French doors.

“Wow.” JC’s voice was
filled with awe as she sauntered toward the handrail.

The fiery sky turned
to dark blue, and all that remained of the sunset were swirls of soft pink
hovering over the caldron jutting out of the now-black water. John’s eye
followed the simplistic lines of architecture overhead. He seemed to be taking
mental notes of the construction of the aged pergola. He gripped the beam,
checking for sturdiness she assumed.

Shayla giggled at
his inquisitiveness.

“What?” His cheeks
burnished with color. He pointed at the rough lumber. “There isn’t a nail or
screw in this structure. This is impressive. It’s all done by hand.”

Her lip twitched and
she pulled it between her teeth. Sweet sensuality filled her tone.
 
“Hmm. All done by hand. That is
very
impressive.”

Her hand immediately
flew to her mouth, covering her modest laugh.

Caught off guard by
her boldness, John smiled, exposing a set of dimples she hadn’t noticed. He reached
for her, but she dodged behind the beam, evading his grasp.
 
“There isn’t gonna be anything getting
done
by hand
tonight.”

She let out a squeak
when he grabbed her by the arm, drawing her to his chest. A throaty hiss
escaped his lungs and a gleam of desire sparkled in the squint of his eyes.
John bent to kiss her.

“Beautiful!” Lisa
exclaimed with a dreamy sigh. She flashed an exquisite white smile as she
sauntered by.

Benny followed right
behind her, clearing his throat and tossing them an all-knowing, smartass grin.

Groups of candles
and red roses adorned tables dressed in crisp white linens. Busy waiters served
glasses of champagne to everyone standing at the cliff’s edge taking in the
breathtaking view. Greek music announced the arrival of the bride and groom,
and cheers erupted throughout the restaurant and patio.

Dinner was
delectable, and as the celebration grew louder, Tommy and Tess gravitated to
the dance floor. Old-world atmosphere and the distinct hum of elation filled
the evening. When the Greek wedding dance began to play, locals filtered
outside to partake in the event, including two of the Greek gods from cliff
diving the day before. As more and more local families joined in the fun,
Shayla stayed on alert for any unsuspected videoing or picture taking. However,
most of the locals had gotten to know Tommy over the years and respected his
privacy.

She made her way to
the bar and pulled JC off to one side. “Did you invite those guys?”

“No,” she assured,
holding out her little finger. “Pinky swear! I didn’t
invite
them. I might’ve
manifested
them. Honestly, they saw the party from two blocks away, but I have been visualizing
dancing with him all day. Can they stay? Please? I promise they won’t take any
pictures! I need somebody to dance with.”

 
“Good Lord, I can’t believe I’m gonna say
this, but okay.”

JC threw her arms
around Shayla’s neck. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,
but I want their phones.”

The strong fragrance
of their cologne seized her breath as they approached the bar. Neither of the
men made a complaint and gladly relinquished their phones. The taller of the
two men, who’d given his number to JC at the beach, slung his arm through hers.
They headed for the dance floor before the other handsome young man could dig
his phone out of his pocket.

“Would you like to
dance?” he asked in a brogue accent, cupping Shayla’s hand in his as he lay the
cell in her palm.

John’s heavy hand
curled around the tip of her shoulder. “She’s dancing with me.”

Shayla jumped at the
pugnacious sound of his voice. Twisting her neck, she turned to see John and
Tracy standing beside her. His stood slack, but looked dark and threatening
with a deep scowl notched between his brows.

“Maybe later,” the
young Greek offered politely, lifting the back of her hand toward his lips.

In one swift
movement, John pulled her hand right out from under the guy’s lips and gathered
her into a one-armed embrace. “I don’t think so, bud. She’s with me tonight.”

A distinct warning lay
within his words, and John’s green eyes grew murky with the squint of his thick
ebony lashes.

John hastily swept
her away from the bar.

Tracy’s eyes widened
in shock, mirroring Shayla’s as she passed by.

Shayla carefully
tossed the cell phones on the head table. Her fingers drummed lightly on her
hips. “He was simply asking me to dance. You didn’t have to scare him.”

Taking hold of her
wrist, he escorted her to the floor. “Bullshit. If I weren’t here, guys would
be lined up to dance with you like an old-fashioned kissing booth at the county
fair,” he grumbled flatly, hauling her close.

She couldn’t help
but chuckle. “An old fashioned kissing booth.”

He loosened his
hold, but his face held rigid. His heart pulsed rapidly beneath her cheek.
 
John dropped both hands to her hips and
she automatically draped her hands over the top of his shoulders.

Her fingers stroked
and played with the hair at his nape. “I was going to say no.”

Neither spoke, cloaked
in the heavy bruised air. Shayla knew he had something on his mind and she
waited patiently for the tension to slip from his hold. She eased into his
solid frame, allowing him to guide her around the room. Their bodies moved as
one as John led her effortlessly around the floor with confidence and fluidity.

He sighed, giving a
slight shake of his head. “This has nothing to do with him.”

Flickering candlelight
cast shadows on the hollow of his throat, his bronze skin delectable. She
traced the dip between his collarbones with the tip of her finger. “Today is
today, remember?”

The flat of her palm
stole to the inside of his open collar shirt; her icy fingers relished the
warmth of his smooth skin.

His eyes grew dark
and serious. He clutched her hand up to his chest and nuzzled closer into the
sensitive spot on her neck. “But I want tomorrow. I...I...I don’t even know
what to say because no matter how I say it, it’s gonna make me sound crazy.”

Caught off guard by
the confusion muddling his voice, she wobbled a bit, but he held her secure,
offering a sense of safety she’d never felt. “I like crazy,” she whispered
playfully.

A small
reverberation of laughter rumbled in his chest. He eased her fully into his
arms when a country ballad,
Must Be Doing
Somethin Right
, by Billy Currington played. Her eyes drifted shut. She was
soon engulfed in the warmth of his breath near her temple as he sang along quietly
in her ear.

His rich, seductive
voice made her skin come alive, sending sparks zinging through her limbs. John’s
thighs brushed against hers, skillfully maneuvering her through the small open
channels of their family and friends. Everyone and everything seemed to
dissolve around them. A fine layer of perspiration blossomed over her skin.

John cradled both
sides of her neck with his long thick fingers.