Groomless - Part 2 (9 page)

“You know what? I’m sorry too. We could’ve had a great life together.”

“We still can, darling.”

When he called me by that pet name, standing there in the rain, it was like something out of the romantic of all romance movies, like one of those scenes from an old black-and-white that still drew me to tears. It melted my heart. I had once loved him with all my heart, mind, and soul, but I couldn’t understand why I was still so drawn to the man who had broken my heart so long ago. My heart cried out for him, and I wanted to feel those familiar arms wrapped around me once again. I couldn’t deny the strong impulses that demanded our reunion. I was a sad, lonely, lost little girl, still clutching remnants of the past that I didn’t want to let go of. He was my ex-boyfriend, but he was still a whole lot better than being alone. It only made matters worse that we broke up sort of accidentally. There was no fighting, no cheating. There was really nothing wrong with our relationship, and it was never broken or damaged. We simply broke up because he left to chase his dreams. That was what hurt so bad, that he simply chose to kick me to the curb when he was supposed to be walking me down the aisle. I wasn’t sure I could ever get over him, but I desperately needed to.

“So you leave, come back, and suddenly decide we can continue right where we left off?” I asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“Why not?”

“It’s too late. You left, deserted me. I gave you a choice, Luke. I knew if you got on that plane, we’d be over forever.”

“I understand. I hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he said, pain and regret flashing across his gorgeous face.

“Hurt isn’t the half of it. I was devastated, almost as devastated as I was when I lost my mom or when I heard that I’m going to lose Dad. I guess we learned a few painful lessons from the mistakes we made, though, and your apology… Well, you saying sorry now means a lot to me. Thank you for that.”

“I mean it, JJ.”

“I know, and that touches my heart.”

“I’d still like to be friends. I’ll be around, but if you don’t want me in your life, I’ll respect your decision.”

“I can’t believe I’m standing here in the rain, arguing with you,” I said.

“Remember how we used to make up after a heated argument?”

I let my eyes rest on him for a long moment. I couldn’t help staring, because he was as sexy as he was the day I’d met him. He looked even more amazing and tantalizing with the rain dripping from his slicked-back hair and onto his face. For the shortest of moments, my mind drifted back to the way he always kissed my anger away after a fight, but I blinked the rain out of my eyes and said, “I might be okay with you lurking around in the friend zone, but the more I think about it, the more I’m not sure.”

“Why?”

“Can a person really be just friends with an ex? Unless both parties are truly over it, it seems like it might get…tricky.”

“We’ve had years to process the breakup. I think our friendship is worth salvaging, and honestly, if you didn’t think so, I don’t think you’d be standing in the pouring rain talking to me about it.”

I smiled, realizing he’d called my bluff, as he was always so good at doing.

“There’s that beautiful smile I remember so much.”

“I’ll call you,” I said.

“Great.”

Instead of leaving, I found myself locked in his gaze again. A flurry of feelings and sensations overwhelmed me, and my heart was beating wildly, even faster than the rhythm of the falling rain. His lips were so close to mine, and I wanted nothing more than to claim them. My heart wanted to surrender to the moment. He gently pushed me up against the wall and pressed his firm body into mine. He studied my every move, my every reaction, every twitch of my lips, staring at me with those piercing blue eyes. I was a nervous ball of energy. I knew I needed to leave, but I couldn’t seem to break free from his hypnotic gaze.

I had always thought myself to be a sophisticated woman who knew exactly what she wanted and went after it, but that cool headedness quickly faded when Luke came crashing back into my life. As my hands traveled down the contours of his chiseled face, I lost all sense of focus. His fingers traced my jawline, then my shoulders, slowly down my bare arms. I was drowning in need, in desire; I wanted to touch him, to consume him. When his lips touched mine, ever so softly and sweetly, I wanted to devour him. I opened my mouth, and our tongues performed a perfect waltz, like dance partners long lost and reunited in a collision of passion.
Damn, how I’ve missed this,
I thought. I raked my fingers through his wet hair. The kiss was slow and sensuous, tender and passionate, just like the man who was giving it to me.

The next thing I knew, Luke was pulling me into his limo. He continued kissing me slowly, the passion building with each passing second. I held his face in my hands and kissed him back, and he twisted his fingers in my hair, exciting me even more. I knew I should stop, to put an end to it before things went too far, but for the life of me, I simply couldn’t stop. It had been far too long since I had felt kisses like that, and Luke’s lips felt like home.

After we kissed for a bit, things got more adventurous and sensually aggressive. Between even deeper kisses, he gently bit my lower lip, letting his teeth graze it as he pulled away. His lips glided down my neck, and the way his tongue felt on my skin was nothing short of amazing. He placed slow, gentle kisses from my chin all the way down my neck, stopping at the nape to nibble gently on my moist skin. I shivered as his hand roamed down my back, pressing the wet fabric of my shirt against me. His lips brushed mine again, and he softly stroked my hair. The warmth and weight of his hard, muscular body against mine, along with the sound of his heartbeat, was like no other experience.

My cell phone interrupted our interlude, and I wasn’t going to answer it, but I was waiting on an important call from my dad’s doctor. “I’ve got to take this,” I said.

“Hello. Is this Julia? I hope so. This is Shelly, with
Live with Kelly and Michael
,” a woman said, excitedly chirping like a chipmunk on speed.

“Oh. Hi. I’ve seen the show. How can I help you?” I asked, trying to push Luke off me but having little success.

“Well, our show tapes live, and we were wondering if…” Her voice drifted off as I tried to make sense of all she was saying at a million miles a minute.

“Let me talk to my father,” I said.

“I already have,” Shelly said. “How do you think I got your number?”

“Oh. Well, okay. I, uh…”

Without letting me get another word in edgewise, she rattled off a date and several other details. I really didn’t catch much of it, except something about not wearing plaid or stripes or “any weird patters that will blur on TV.”

After the hyper production assistant hung up, I stared at my phone, then looked at Luke, blinking in shock. Not only had the story of my fake, groomless reception gone from newspaper to national television, but I was also making out in a limousine with the ex who’d turned my heart into a damn smoothie.

When Kate called a minute later, I was even more floored. “You’re getting all kinds of messages,” she said, “and some flowers showed up, with all these sweet cards. A magazine even wants to do a feature on you. I’m getting writer’s cramp writing all this down. You’re going to have to start paying me to be your secretary!”

“I know. This is getting out of control,” I said.

“Well, I understand. It’s, like, the most beautiful love story ever.”

“A groomless wedding reception is a love story? It sounds kind of the opposite to me,” I said, trying not to make eye contact with Luke.

“No, silly. I mean the love between a father and daughter. It’s just…touching.”

“I never knew such a simple act of love could turn into such a media frenzy. I mean, what kid wouldn’t do something nice for her dad?”

“Quit being so damn humble, Julia. This isn’t just buying him some gaudy tie or mowing the lawn for him. This is a big thing, a big deal, a unique idea. There are so many bad things in the news, and this is positive and inspiring. Give the good people of New York City something to smile about. Love is stronger than anything.”

I smiled. “Well, there’s really no stronger bond than the one between a daddy and her daughter.”

“Tell your story then. Show them that love and happiness still exist.”

“I think I will.”

I looked at Luke, and he shot me the most seductive look. I smiled as his lips touched mine.

Suddenly, the limo driver announced that we were at my house, and I was glad to hear it. If he had taken any longer to get me home, I would have been sitting naked in the back of the limo, making memories I was not prepared to make.

I wiped the lipstick off his face with my thumb. “I’d invite you up, but Kate is home.”

“You haven’t seen my place yet.”

I stared into those intense eyes, knowing full well that it was an invitation. The possibilities ran through my mind. What woman in New York City wouldn’t jump at the chance? I was sure he could make me forget all my pain, but I also knew it was wrong to lead him on. Besides that, I wanted more out of a relationship than a glorious night of sex. I wanted commitment and love, no matter how old-fashioned that seemed.

“My head is spinning,” I said. “I just need to go home and think. I just got fired…and I just kissed you.”

“I just can’t stop thinking about you. When I look into your eyes, it feels like old times, ya know? I’m sorry I got carried away, Julia. That was so wrong of me. Can we still be friends?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, though I wasn’t sure that would really be possible with a guy who could set my soul on fire with merely just his gaze.

Chapter 11

That night, Kate and I talked on the couch while she painted her toenails, this time in some awful shade of fluorescent green.

“You like it?” she asked, holding up the bottle. “It’s called Grassy Nail.”

“Great,” I said. “Nail polish named after a crime scene.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

“I’m sorry about your job,” Kate said. “What are you gonna do now?”

“I’m not sure. I’m sure I can pick up something at a restaurant, till I land a photography job again.”

“Yeah, you’ll find something. Just don’t be a model. It sucks.”

As we talked, Luke flashed across my mind; I couldn’t stop thinking about him. “Maybe Luke would make the perfect groom,” I blurted before I had a chance to stop my foolish mouth.

“I was mad at him when I first met him at the bridal shop, but he seems like an okay guy.”

“Well, he has this great relationship with my dad. Even after we broke up, the two of them still went to some Mets games together. He flew my dad to New York City,” I said, my voice skating on the ugly edge of whiny.

“I know they’re tight, and Luke seems like a great guy, from what you told me, but he broke your heart really bad, Julia. Do you really trust him enough to go there with him? He’s your ex for a reason, remember? I mean, I understand you wanting to sleep with him. I’d have to be blind or gay not to see that, but still.”

“I need a family friend to stand in for an admittedly weird situation, that’s all.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Even if it’s just make-believe, it should be the right guy.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’d be better to pick some random stranger.”

“In that case, we could go clubbing.”

“And what do I say to the potential groom? Do I just pick him up and then give him some abridged version of this crazy plan? I mean, ‘Hey, do you like cosplay? No, I’m not talking steampunk, no capes and pocket watches. More…Barbie and Ken get married.’”

“That sounds like the easiest way to end up with a Thorazine shot and resting upstate on a ninety-day paper. Hey! Your parents could be conservators like Britney’s were back in the day!”

“Kate, as helpful as that is, I’m angling for the path of least resistance here. I don’t feel like going into detail with anyone. This whole thing is sort of a freak show, but it’s my freak show. I own that. I just don’t want to have to explain it to a stranger.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a nice male cousin who could stand in?”

“This isn’t Appalachia. We live in Brooklyn. I’m not going to try to get my by-the-way-has-been-in-jail-for-domestic-violence cousin Hank to be my groom-in-training, okay? He’s my only male cousin, and I basically hate him. Although he’d make a great piñata if we’re going for a fiesta vibe at the reception.”

“Ooh! Or pin the tail on a wife-beater! You have the best party games. I am so coming to all your weddings.”

“It’s not a real wedding, babe. It’s a parody, a stage show, a fucking catastrophe.”

“We should put that on the invitations.”

“It’s subtext. Everyone who’s invited will already be in on the joke, and the joke is squarely on me, the spinster only daughter.”

“Don’t say ‘spinster.’ It’s so last century.”

“Fine. What would you call it? My dad’s last wish is a father/daughter dance at my wedding reception, and since I’m such an undateable basket-case, we have to either hire a gigolo, let the gay guy fake-court me while he’s drooling over all the guys who are there, or I have to ask Luke, my only presentable ex, the only one who’s ever given two shits about me or my family.”