Even without another conversation, he already knew that she hadn’t changed that much. She was still sweet and gentle on the inside. It was the way she’d been made. But the woman could get riled. And he suspected she was very much that way at the moment.
Not only had he sought her out when she’d clearly been avoiding him, but her friends had also deserted her. Only, not before the short one had shot him the I’ll-kill-you-in-an-instant-if-you-hurt-her look. That had come from Roni. She’d been at Gin’s earlier. He’d finally recognized her from the rehearsal dinner from years ago. No wonder she’d gone cold on him at the bar.
He had a feeling that either she or Ginger — the other friend who’d been both on the sand with them and in Boston at the wedding — would gladly skin him alive if he hurt Andie again, but he couldn’t walk away just yet. He’d found himself physically unable to not seek her out.
He moved closer, unsure where to start. Before he had a chance to figure it out, the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, and Andie rotated in his direction. It was only a half moon, but enough to illuminate her features. Her face appeared as smooth as carved rock, and her long, reddish-brown hair blew out behind her, the loose curls catching in the breeze.
“You’re beautiful, Andie.”
A sardonic slash angled across her mouth. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me, Mark. I’m immune to you now.”
“I wasn’t,” he said. He wanted to reach out and touch her but valued his limb. “But it’s the truth. You were beautiful before, but here in the moonlight, on the beach, you’re stunning. You look like you belong.”
She nodded. “I do. I should thank you for that, I suppose.”
Though she didn’t look very thankful at the moment. When no other words came to him, he said the only thing running through his mind. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
The clouds shifted, obscuring the moonlight so that he couldn’t see her eyes, but he got a good sense of her thoughts from the stiffness in her body. He swallowed against the lump in his throat.
“Is that it?” she asked. “All you wanted to say?”
“No.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then say it and let’s call this done, shall we?”
Her attitude suddenly irritated the hell out of him. He wasn’t used to people not backing down. Stepping closer, he put his face down in front of hers. “Lose the attitude, Andie, we both made mistakes back then.”
“Yet only one of us was left at the altar.”
“You left me little choice.”
Her eyes widened for a second before her right hand rose and slapped him hard across the face. The sound rang out in the night.
“I did
nothing
to deserve being left like that,” she said.
Except plan to marry him for name only.
Working his jaw back and forth, wishing it didn’t sting like a mother, he shifted his shoes into his right hand, preparing to use his left to catch any additional hits if they came. He may let her get away with that one, but it would be the only one. “That make you feel better?” he asked.
“It didn’t make me feel worse.”
“Then how about this?” He clamped his arm around her waist and jerked her body to his, lowering his mouth to hers before she could utter a complaint.
And he nearly lost his mind in the taste of her.
He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but he also couldn’t say the idea hadn’t played out in his fantasies over the last twelve hours, either. Nor over the last six months.
Kissing Andie once more was worth the frustration of having to see her again and know she wasn’t his.
When she didn’t immediately push him away, he loosened his stance and took the kiss deeper, groaning when she opened her mouth and let him in. She softened against him and made little noises that dragged way too many memories from the trenches of his mind. They had never had a problem with this.
Her tongue stroked his, and he dropped the shoes he was holding to bring both hands up to grip the sides of her face, devouring her. God, he’d missed this.
He’d missed her.
It was his Andie, in his arms again. Kissing him as wildly as she ever had.
And then kneeing him in the crotch.
He bent over at the waist, coughing and clutching at his balls. “Dammit!” The woman had landed a direct hit. “
Sonofabitch,
” he growled out
.
“Did you have to do that?”
Shit
. He was going to lose his dinner.
“Seemed like the thing to do at the moment,” she answered, her voice strangely flat. “I was feeling attacked.”
He turned his back to her, fighting the urge to puke and trying to ignore the whistling that rushed through his head. His eyes watered like a baby’s. He supposed he might have deserved that. If it had been anyone else grabbing and kissing her without invitation, he would have encouraged the move. But the knowledge certainly didn’t make the throbbing any less.
When he could finally pull in enough air to breathe without making a panting sound, he slowly straightened and turned back to her, his chest rising and falling with the adrenaline now coursing through him. The moonlight was showcasing Andie’s face once more, and he could make out the concern for him in her eyes, even though her body language read differently.
She stood there with his shoes, one in each hand, hands locked at her waist. “Are you about finished?”
He looked skyward as if something there would help make her understand. “You kneed me in the balls, Andie. Did you think it wouldn’t hurt?”
And stupidly, he wanted to kiss her again.
“I’d hoped it would hurt. A lot. But to tell you the truth, I’ve never done that before. Didn’t know if I did it hard enough or not.”
“You did it just fine, sweetheart.” He would laugh if he could. Instead, he took a step closer, only to watch her take one away. So he stopped and held up his hands. “Fine. I won’t touch you again.” He paused, unsure why he wanted to push her buttons instead of simply give her the apology he’d come to deliver. “If you’ll admit you liked it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Of course I didn’t like it. I was faking it, you idiot. Softening you up before I backed you off.”
“And you did a good job of the backing off part, but I also caught a little moan of pleasure in there. It didn’t sound fake, Andie.”
“Well, it was.”
He took that step closer. “Prove it.”
This time her chin came up, but she didn’t move away. “I will do no such thing. Didn’t you come here to give me some sort of lame apology or something?”
“That was before you attempted to make me infertile.” One more step and he was back within touching distance.
They stood there staring at each other, and he watched her thoughts run through her eyes. She was as intrigued as he by the chemistry still between them, yet she wasn’t ready to give in to it. She was also still furious with him. And he could see the hurt. It was hiding way in the back, but it was there. Which put his testosterone level back where it belonged and reminded him that yes, he had come to apologize for his past behavior.
He held out his hands in a sign of surrender and eased back out of her space. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tonight isn’t the time or place to explore what’s still there between us. Hand over my shoes, and I’ll give you your apology.”
Her hands came off her waist to pass over the shoes, but then she stopped, her head tilting at an angle to study him. She shot him a look; the same one that had first captured his attention at Harvard. It was half mischievous, and a lot bold. And it made his blood once again begin to heat.
Before he could figure out what it meant, she’d whirled and sent one of his thousand dollar Italian loafers out into the rolling waves.
“What are you doing?” he shouted. He took off after the shoe, splashing into the water, but the wave quickly rose to his knees, almost pulling him down in the shifting sand. He turned back to her. The water lapped at her ankles now, but she didn’t move away from it. “What in the world, Andie?”
She merely shrugged. “Figured it would serve you right for kissing me.”
“The knee to the groin was punishment for kissing you.” He continued walking through the now receding water, dragging his feet around, hoping to find his shoe.
“No, the knee to the groin was for embarrassing me in front of both of our families four years ago.”
He looked back at her, his shoe forgotten, aware of how she’d stated the facts. “Not for hurting you, then? Just for the embarrassment?”
That thought disturbed him more than it should have after all this time. He’d wanted to believe that she had really loved him, even though evidence had suggested otherwise.
She nibbled on her lip but didn’t immediately answer, so he headed back in her direction. He wanted to hear it. That yes, embarrassment had been his worst crime that day, not breaking her heart. Not as Ginny had implied. He wanted her to admit it. Then he would quit feeling bad for ending it the way he had. He’d deserved to maintain some amount of integrity, after all. And if the woman hadn’t loved him, he figured she’d deserved to be left at the altar for breaking his heart in two.
“The knee was for the embarrassment, yes,” she began, meeting his gaze as he stopped near her, the water now tickling their shins. She turned so that her face was once again thrown into shadows, and her voice grew soft. “I haven’t figured out yet what to do for the pain.”
And just that fast his heart cracked, and he couldn’t have kept his distance if he’d wanted to. And he didn’t want to.
“Aw, babe.” He reached for her, cupping her lightly by the arms. “I really am sorry. I was the lowest kind of jerk that day.”
She nodded, suddenly seeming fragile in his hands. “You were. But why? Was I really so bad? Did your mother talk you out of it? Did Rob?”
“No,” he stated emphatically. “No to all of it. Why would my mother talk me out of it? She loved you.”
Andie’s shoulders lifted with a shrug. “I overheard her one day saying she didn’t think you should marry me.”
“What?” Without meaning to, he stepped back in shock. In doing so, his hands slipped from her arms. He immediately reached out to touch her again, but she pulled away. He lowered his hands. “I can’t imagine why she would have said that. She thought you were terrific.”
“Rob then?”
He shook his head. Rob had not liked her from the day they’d met, and Andie had returned the sentiment. “Rob was there when I made my decision.” He’d been waiting in the car as Mark had run into the apartment. “But he had nothing to do with it.”
“Yet he was only too happy to deliver the news.”
Mark started to protest, but then realized that she was right. Rob had been thrilled to tell her. In fact, he’d been the one to suggest he go to the church instead of Mark.
Having just overheard Andie on her call, Mark had not wanted to talk to her. He was furious that he’d let himself fall so hard, when she’d clearly been after something else entirely. “I can’t say that Rob was
unhappy
to deliver the news. He has a sick sense of humor like that.”
Dark eyes studied him until Mark began to shift from foot to foot. He wanted to know what she was thinking.
Suddenly, her arm shot up and his other loafer hit the ocean.
“What was that for?” he asked, incredulity lining his voice. Not that he could have worn just one shoe, but it seemed sacrilegious to toss both of them in the water.
“For sending Rob instead of having the guts to come yourself.”
He nodded, suddenly sober with the hurt he’d caused. Maybe she hadn’t loved him as much as he’d wanted her to, but it wasn’t as if nothing had been between them. Their kiss of only a few moments ago had shown that there had once been something there. Heck, there was still something there. She may claim she’d been faking it, but he’d felt her body tremble against his.
“I came by the apartment that morning. Did Rob tell you that?”
Wide eyes blinked up at him, confused. “When?”
Right
. Of course Rob hadn’t told her that.
Mark had spent the night before at his parents’ home, as he and Andie had planned to follow tradition and not see each other until she walked down the aisle. Only he’d had a gift for her. Something that would’ve made the day even more special. And he’d wanted to give it to her with no one else around.
But seeing the bride before the wedding had definitely brought bad luck.
“The morning of the wedding. You were on a conference call when I came in.”
She looked briefly stunned, and then nodded. It hadn’t taken her long to remember who she’d been talking to. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because you were picking out an outfit to wear to the office.”
She lowered her gaze. They’d had many arguments about how much she’d been working. The fact that his mother had planned the majority of their wedding instead of her had been a testament to her long hours.
“It was an important account,” she said, almost too softly to hear.
“I gathered that.”
At some point, they’d begun walking side by side through the rising tide, and he could now make out another couple far off in the distance. He hoped they were enjoying themselves instead of ripping their hearts open like they were.
Andie stopped and faced him. “Is that why? Because I was going into the office that morning? I told you I was at a critical point in my job. But I wouldn’t have been late for my own wedding.”
“Andie, you’d barely had anything to do with the wedding for months. All you thought about was the job. We still made love,” — they’d come together in the middle of the night as explosively as they ever had — “but other than that, I never saw you. We never talked.”
“But my job was important. I’d told you that.”
He nodded. “And having a wife who thought of me on occasion was important, too.”
“Thought of you, as in quit her job and stayed home to raise the kids. Right? Like your mom? We’d talked about that so much.”
“Argued about it.”
“Yes, argued. Because you wanted me to be something I wasn’t. Did you really not realize until that morning that I wasn’t going to be that kind of wife? That it wasn’t what I wanted?”