Her skin was hot, and her heart was beating loudly, and as soon as the groom kissed the bride and walked back down the aisle, she was damn near ready to launch herself into his arms.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sometime in the last few weeks he’d decided several things.
That she might be lying. That she might be trouble. That he might be about to become the poster child for fool me twice, shame on me.
But most of all, he’d decided that his gut told him she’d meant what she said. Even though she hadn’t given him the details of why there’d been a man with a gun demanding her presence, he’d made the choice to believe her.
Blind trust, maybe. Or possibly blind something else. Either way, his instincts said she was telling the truth. His gut had served him throughout his career, so he’d decided to listen to it.
Now that he was here with her, he wasn’t thinking with his gut. He wasn’t thinking at all. He was feeling.
His whole body was humming, vibrating at a frequency only she could sense. His skin sizzled, and blood rushed hot through his veins. Nearness to her was an aphrodisiac.
“I like your suit,” she said, going first.
“I like your dress.”
“You’re here,” she said with wonder in her voice as she eyed him up and down. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of the way she looked at him with hunger, need, and passion.
“I’m here,” he said, quirking up his lips. They stood gazing at each other, but they hadn’t touched yet. They were inches apart, and there was something almost fragile about this moment. As if they might break if one of them moved. He didn’t know who would make the first move, but he hoped it would be her since he’d made the effort to show up.
“How?” she asked, still breathless.
“Your sister and her husband.”
“They invited you?” she asked, her lips curving into a wide, gorgeous smile.
“Invited. Or insisted. Take your pick.”
“Really?” she asked, and a breeze blew by, making the soft little tendrils of her hair flutter against her neck. He wanted to bend his head to her neck, layer her skin in kisses that made her shiver in his arms and melt into him, that turned her so hot inside her knees went weak and she nearly buckled with desire. He’d catch her, hold her, make sure she didn’t fall, except into him.
He did none of that. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, or else he’d be touching her, wrapping his arms around her, running his fingertips along her hipbone, covered in the fabric of her black dress.
“Yes. Really. Chris invited me a week ago, and said he needed his lawyer here. Which was about the worst case of acting I’d ever heard, since no one needs his entertainment lawyer at his wedding, so McKenna grabbed the phone, reprimanding him, and then laid it out.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she thought it would make you happy if I were here, and that you being happy was the greatest gift she could have on her wedding day. Well, besides marrying Chris,” he said with a happy shrug. “Far be it from me to deny the bride of my newest client her greatest wish.”
He watched Julia process his words. She swallowed, drew in a sharp breath, and clasped her hand over her mouth, covering a sob. A tear slipped down her cheek.
Instantly, he reached for her, swiping the tear away and leaning in close. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I just love my sister so much,” she said in a broken voice. “But she’s wrong.”
Clay stiffened. No. Not now. Not after he’d taken this big chance. This big leap. Not after all their emails and calls. “Why is she wrong?”
Julia shook her head. “Because I’m not just happy. I’m unbelievably happy that you’re here.”
The darkness lifted, and his entire body felt light and full of hope. She wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers in his hair, and tilting her chin up to him. He ached all over just being near to her. She licked her lips, kept her eyes on him, and he’d never seen a more beautiful woman, nor had he ever wanted to kiss someone as much as he wanted to this very second.
He ran the backs of his fingers softly against her cheek, watching as she leaned into him, her eyes floating closed for a brief second as she whispered, “You may kiss the maid-of-honor.”
“Now that makes me unbelievably happy,” he said, gathering her in his arms, tugging her beautiful body close to his, and brushing his lips gently across hers. She gasped lightly when he made contact, that involuntary sound the most perfect reminder of why he’d listened to Chris and McKenna, snapped up a ticket, and flew across the country. Why he took the chance once again with Julia. He could pretend he was doing this for a client, simply responding properly to an invitation for a social occasion. He knew better than to lie to himself. He was doing this because he’d made the choice to trust her. The alternative—being without her—was too much to bear.
But he was also choosing to let go of the past. He wasn’t going to blame Julia for Sabrina’s problems, nor punish himself either by reassigning them to her. The month apart from her—all talk and no contact—had reset his head in some unexpected way, reassuring him that he could try again.
By God, how he wanted to try again as she melted into him, her body so tantalizingly close as they kissed under the sun, surrounded by wedding guests who surely didn’t care what two random people were doing because they weren’t the bride and the groom. They were the maid-of-honor and the man who had to have her, no matter the cost. He kissed her tenderly at first, light and soft as the moment called for, here on the bluff, San Francisco Bay waves rolling on by. But as she inched closer to him, pressing the full length of her gorgeous frame against his, the gentleness fell away. A groan worked its way up his chest. He pulled her harder, needing her as close as could be, needing her mouth. She whimpered and parted her lips, inviting him to taste more. He explored her with his tongue, kissing her the kind of way two lovers kiss when they haven’t seen each other in a month.
What a long, hard month it had been. She wriggled her h*ps subtly against his cock, which was straining now against the zipper of his pants. The barest of contact with his erection sent his body spinning. “Julia,” he whispered harshly, her name a warning.
Her mouth fell away from his, and she brushed her lips along his jaw, up to his ear. “I want you,” she said, in a hot murmur. “I want you now.”
Nothing else mattered but grabbing her hand, and finding the nearest coat closet so he could slam the door and take her.