The Groom (22 page)

She clung to him desperately, her
fingernails digging into the fabric of his jacket as he touched her, skimmed
his hands over her from breasts to hips and back again; he hardly seemed to be
able to fill his hands with enough of her. One hand came up to her hair, and he
grasped it in his fist, drawing her head back before feasting on her neck and
shoulders, making his way down to her cleavage. She moaned and he covered her
mouth, reminding her that there were people just on the other side of the
curtain. The moan melted into a sigh as he hitched her dress up, skimming his
hand up the inside of one thigh, coming dangerously close to the moisture and
heat pooling between her hips.

When his fingertips made contact
with the strip of silk separating him from her flesh, she jerked in his grasp,
her body aching for more as he reminded her just how easy it was for him to
master her.

And master her, he did.

Even if she’d wanted to fight
him, she couldn’t have, as he turned and pressed her to the wall, his hips
cradling hers as he freed himself from his pants and pressed against her
entrance from behind. His breath sawed in and out of his lungs, tickling the
hairs at the nape of her neck as he gripped her hips, pausing with his head
just within her for a breath of a moment. Katrina braced herself against the
wall, breath hitched in her throat as she waited for him to fill her.

He did, in one smooth thrust,
filling her to near bursting as he pressed her to the wall, shoving a leg
between hers to open her up even more. He slid in farther, and she gasped,
biting at her bottom lip to keep from screaming as he took her, pounding into
her mercilessly as he gripped her hips in a painfully tight grasp. His lips
brushed her shoulder, and she shivered as he groaned through gritted teeth. She
licked her lips as she met his movements with her hips, drunk off the heady
feeling of knowing that he was as cranked up as she was.

His teeth found her neck, and he
bit down just as the tiny flutters hinting at an orgasm tickled her insides.
Those teeth sinking into her flesh sent her over the edge, and she screamed
into his palm as earth-shattering spasms rocked her core, gripping him like a
tight fist and drawing him deeper into her body as he unleashed himself inside
of her with one last, forceful stroke.

Lyle collapsed against her,
pressing her to the wall with his body as his ragged breathing filled her ear.
He trembled, his arms coming around her waist, and he held her anchored to him
as if afraid she would escape. She couldn’t have if she wanted to; her legs
were so weak.

After a while he pulled away
slowly, and she heard the sounds of him pulling his clothes back into place.
She turned to face him and found him standing with his arm extended, crisp
white handkerchief a silent offering hanging from his fingertips. Her face went
hot as she accepted it, and he turned his back as she cleaned herself up and
put her clothing back to rights. She patted her hair, which was coming loose
from its topknot, and fingered her lips, knowing that they were swollen and
that her lipstick was hopelessly smeared. Lyle turned back to her, stuffing his
handkerchief back into his pocket before reaching for her again.

She stiffened, but melted just as
quickly as his hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing her swollen lips
tenderly. When he kissed her this time, it was with such heartbreaking
gentleness that tears sprang to her eyes.

What had she done to deserve such
tenderness? She had ripped this man’s heart in two, and here he was, making
love to her mouth as if she were the most precious thing on earth. The tears
fell, soaking her face as well as his, and she pulled away, choking back a sob.

“Stop,” she begged, knowing that
she could take no more. Already, she wanted more, more of him, more of
everything. Everything she had no right to ask for. “Please . . . no more.”

Lyle simply stared, his face a
twisted mask of anger and pain. When he finally spoke, his voice had the hard
edge of steel wrapped around it. “Dan is behind this.”

Katrina frowned. It wasn’t
exactly what she’d been expecting to hear. “I’m sorry?”

Lyle snorted, shaking his head as
he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “That son of a bitch. He knew you
were going to be here, he set me up. Son of a bitch.”

Katrina lowered her eyes, knowing
that his outward dialogue was not directed at her. A moment later, he was in
front of her, his hands braced on the wall on either side of her head.

“You look beautiful.” He said the
words as if it hurt him to say them, as if looking at her brought him pain. “I
should be happy to see you,” he continued when she could find no words. “And I
am. Your scar heeled up nicely.” She shivered as his finger traced the thin
line running down between her breasts. He paused and snatched his hand away,
balling it into a fist. “But I can barely stand the sight of you. Because you
left me, Katrina. You left me behind, and you wouldn’t even let me . . . you
never even gave me a chance to say—”

Katrina shook her head, closing
her eyes as if it could block out the sound of his voice. “Lyle, don’t.”

His palm crashed against the wall
beside her, and she jumped, her eyes flying open as he leaned toward her. “No!
Not this time, damn it. You will listen to me, Katrina. Look at me.”

She did, and it tore her to
pieces.

“You never even gave me a chance
to tell you that I love you. I love you, and I always will, no matter how hard
I might want to stop, no matter how many times you try to walk away. I will
always love you.”

She covered her mouth, this time
unable to choke back the sob that nearly strangled her. If he’d said the words
intending to hurt her, he had succeeded. The knife in her gut twisted
painfully.

“And now you know,” he said as he
backed away from her, his hands dropping to his sides. She wanted to stop him,
to reach for him and tell him that she loved him too. She wanted to beg him to
smile at her, to tell her everything would be all right, even when she knew it
could never be.

Instead, she stood there with her
hands over her mouth, eyes wide as he disappeared back through the curtain and
out of her life once again.

_____

“We need to talk, now.”

Lyle came up short as the couple
he’d descended upon pulled apart, straightening various articles of clothing.
His mouth dropped open as a disheveled Morgan Dyer shrank behind Dan, her head
lowered as she dabbed at her smudged lipstick. He shot a look of disbelief at
Dan, who he’d expected to find making out with the cocktail waitress, not their
hostess for the evening. Dan shrugged and went about buckling his belt and
tucking in his shirt. Heat flamed in Lyle’s face as he remembered being in a
similar position mere minutes ago.

“Miss Dyer,” Lyle said politely,
clearing his throat. “My apologies.”

Morgan drew herself up to her
full height and assumed her cool expression of boredom once again. “Dr.
Cummings,” she said as if he had happened on her during a stroll in the garden
and not with Dan’s hand up her skirt. “I would appreciate it if you did not
speak of what you just saw.”

Lyle’s eyebrows shot up. He was
sure she would appreciate it, considering she had her image to consider. “I am
not certain I know what you’re talking about,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not
wearing my glasses, and my eyesight is very unreliable. I can’t be certain what
I saw one way or another.”

Dan choked back a laugh, and
Morgan squared her shoulders. “Thank you. You gentlemen enjoy the rest of your
evening.”

She disappeared around the corner
without a glance back at Dan, who shoved Lyle roughly as soon as she was out of
sight. “What the hell?”

Lyle turned on him and glared.
“Oh no. You do not get to make this about me. I have a bone to pick with you.”

Dan held his hands up, his
expression one of mock innocence. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

“Oh, so you just happen to
mention tonight’s entertainment while trying to convince me to stay and you had
no idea that it was Katrina?”

Dan’s mouth gaped open, and he
quickly snapped it shut with a sigh. He thrust his hands in his pockets and
faced him with a determined grimace. “She’s leaving, Lyle.”

Lyle blinked rapidly, his breath
hitching in his throat as he processed that information. “Leaving? How do you
know that?”

“I’ve been hanging out at
Parson’s after work. I didn’t say anything to you because I knew you wouldn’t
want to. Anyway, that bartender, Katrina’s friend, told me that she was leaving
for Venice in less than a week. I think she knew I would say something to you.
I think she wanted you to stop her.”

Lyle ran a shaking hand through
his hair, pacing back and forth in front of Dan. When he’d chased Katrina down
behind the curtain, it had been instinct. He hadn’t been able to stop himself
from taking what he wanted, from being near her, touching her again. When it
was over and she’d stared at him with those wide, brown eyes of hers, he was
shattered all over again knowing that she would run again. He’d run first to
save himself the pain of watching her walk away. What he’d really wanted was to
get on his knees and beg her not to leave him again.

The sight of her had been too
much, reminding him of everything that had happened from the moment he met her
and everything he’d hoped for the future, which had eventually come crumbling
down around him like a ton of bricks.

“What am I supposed to do?” he
asked, unable to mask the rough edge to his voice that hinted at the pain
brewing just beneath his skin. “I didn’t walk away from her, she made a
choice.”

“I can’t pretend to have all of
the answers,” Dan said gently, his expression one of compassion. “But I do know
that if you let her go, you’ll regret it.”

“I don’t get you. A few weeks
ago, you were telling me to move on, to let her go. Now you’re telling me to go
after her.”

Dan shrugged. “Hey, what do I
know? I’m a bachelor, and I like to play around. Maybe I was wrong before.
Maybe what you need is a grand gesture, something to let her know that you mean
what you say when you tell her you’re not taking no for an answer.”

Lyle laughed sarcastically. “A
grand gesture, huh? What would you suggest?”

“What do I look like, your fairy
godmother? Hell if I know. Just do something outrageous, something she knows
you would never do unless you were really serious.”

Fear curled in his gut as an idea
formed in his mind. It was embarrassing and completely out of character, and it
was why Katrina wouldn’t be able to ignore it. If she didn’t believe that he
loved her after he pulled this off then she never would. Even if it didn’t
work, Lyle could say in the end that he’d tried and had no regrets.

He turned to Dan with a laugh. “I
think you’re better at this than you think. Thanks, man!”

Dan shook his head, his eyebrows
crinkled quizzically. “What did I say?”

_________

KATRINA
PAUSED ON the threshold of Parson’s, nostalgia filling her chest as she looked
at the scuffed old-wooden door and the green striped awning over it. The
flickering sign spilled its yellow light over her, and she caressed the
doorframe, wondering if she would ever see this place again. Just one day
before her flight to Venice, Angie and Jake had convinced her to stop by for
one last wild Friday night at Parson’s, a going away party of sorts. She had
put them off the first few times they asked, but in the end she couldn’t
refuse. They were her family, had been since she came out of rehab, and there
was no way she could leave without saying good-bye.

Already, the sounds of music were
pulsating from inside, and the rowdy cheers of the usual crowd caused her to
smile. Despite how hard it would be, she was determined to try to enjoy the
night. She didn’t know if she’d get a chance to ever again. She swung the door
open and stepped inside, standing on tiptoe to see over the shoulders of all
the people crammed inside. They were a bit rowdier than usual, and Katrina
wrinkled her nose as a male, off-key voice met her ears. She laughed as she
dodged a swinging beer mug. Whoever the new singer was, he was awful, but the
crowd seemed to love him.

“Hey, Katrina!”

“Hey, girl!

“Lookin’ good, Katrina!”

She smiled and exchanged hugs
with the regulars as she parted the crowd, all of whom seemed happy to see her
after her long absence. When she reached the bar, Angie greeted her with a
soda, which she accepted happily before sliding onto a stool.

“What’s with the new singer? He’s
awful!” she asked, shouting to be heard above the cheers and the off-key
singer’s rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama.”

Angie shrugged and smiled. “Yeah,
I know. But he’s pretty hot.”

Angie pointed toward the stage,
and Katrina’s eyes followed. What she found stunned her until her mouth was
left hanging open in speechless astonishment. The blond dancing around on stage
with a microphone in his hand was smiling, his eyes locking with hers as he led
the crowd in one more rousing chorus. He leaped from the stage and landed in a
modified half split, throwing his hands up as he finished with a flourish,
drawing another round of drunken cheers from the crowd. The music died away,
and Katrina fought back a smile as Lyle moved through the crowd.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?”

More cheers.

“You know how we do it at
Parson’s on Friday night,” he said with a wink in her direction. “My girl
Angie’s got the drinks flowing, I’ve got the tunes, and hey—Katrina just
walked in!”

The applause was deafening. Lyle
laughed. “Yeah, I know she’s way better than me, but she’s leaving us.”

A chorus of “awwwwwws” rang out
through the crowd. Katrina took a sip of her soda and leaned back against the
bar.

“So, it’s up to me to hold it
down for Friday night. Unless . . .” he paused, eyebrows raised as he stared at
her from across the room. “Unless we can find a way to convince her to stay.
What do you say, should we give it a shot?”

“Yeah!”

“Do it!”

“You go, boy!”

Katrina lowered her head and
smothered a laugh with her hand, shoulders shaking as Lyle leaped back up on
stage. “I think it’s worth a shot, don’t you? Tequila Sunrise, help me out. And
you guys know the drill. When I pass you with this microphone, don’t let me
down.”

As the band struck up the music
once again and Queen’s “Somebody To Love” filled the bar, Katrina couldn’t take
her eyes off Lyle, who was working the crowd as if he owned it. His painfully
tone-deaf voice flowed from the speakers as he belted the lyrics with the
passion of Freddie Mercury himself.

I have spent all my years in
believing you

But I just can't get no
relief,

He weaved his way through the
crowd, sharing the microphone with anyone who would join in, slapping
high-fives with the brave souls who weren’t afraid to sing a few bars. He even jumped
on top of a few tables, executing a few well-timed dance moves as he sang.

They say I'm goin' crazy

They say I got a lot of water
in my brain

Katrina couldn’t contain it any
longer. The tears spilled from her eyes at the same time laughter bubbled up in
her throat. By the time Lyle made his way to her, she was sobbing and laughing
like a lunatic. He landed on his knees in front of her, belting out the final
line—
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
—as if his life
depended on it before grabbing her hand and pulling her toward him.

As Parson’s erupted into cheers
around them, she gazed down at him through watery eyes and shook her head in
disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing?”
she screeched, her hands shaking as he stood, wrapping his arms around her
waist.

“I have no idea what you’re
talking about,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s Friday night. Folks want to let
their hair down for the weekend and keep it there. Right?”

Katrina laughed. “You know damn
well what I’m talking about, Lyle. You don’t sing.”

His lips covered hers, and she
melted into him, too dizzy with joy to refuse him. When he pulled back, his
eyes were twinkling, and his lips were curved with a smirk. “I do now,” he
said. “I sing in bars, and I eat greasy food, and I walk in the rain . . . only
none of that is as fun without you, Kat. You changed me. You made me want to be
that
guy. The one who sneaks in quickies behind stage curtains and sings
in front of a room full of drunk people because he’s so absolutely, over the
moon, out of his mind in love that he’ll do whatever it takes to get the girl.”

“Lyle!” she shook her head in
disbelief, her mouth gaping open. “I . . . I don’t . . . I’m leaving in the
morning!”

“No, you’re not.”

Katrina blinked, rearing back in
his embrace. “What?”

“I said you’re not leaving.” Lyle
laughed at her expression but only held her tighter. “I told you I loved you.”

Katrina swallowed and nodded, her
smile fading as she remembered the words that had nearly crushed her. She had
always known it, but hearing him say it had been another thing altogether.
“Yes, you did.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did.”

“So then, there’s only one other
thing to discuss,” he said. “It’s very simple, Katrina. Do you love me?”

Katrina didn’t hesitate. “Of
course I do! Why do you think I’ve stayed away? I couldn’t stand it—”

His finger came over her lips to
silence her. “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Nothing else, Katrina.
That’s all I needed to know. Do you love me?”

She nodded. “And I always will.”

“Then I’m giving you a choice. Do
you have your travel documents with you?”

Katrina frowned. “Well, yeah,
they’re in my purse. But what—?”

“Let me see them.”

Puzzled, Katrina pulled her plane
ticket and passport from her bag, placing them on the bar top. Lyle reached
into his pocket and pulled out another set, placing them on the bar beside
hers.

“There’s your second option. You
can get on that plane and go to Venice, or you can come with me to South
America. Come with me while I work for Healing Hands. I don’t want to do it
without you by my side.”

Katrina glanced down at the other
set of travel documents. “Lyle . . .”

“Choose, Katrina,” he said
firmly, his voice filled with the confidence that she’d make the right choice.
“Right now, you choose. You can run, and let the Giordano name be your burden
forever. Or you can come with me, and I’ll give you a new name. My name.”

Gasps rang out through the lounge
and behind the bar, Angie shedding tears with her hand over her mouth. Jake
nodded encouragingly. Katrina felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her
as her mouth gaped open and she searched for words.

“I love you,” he said, grabbing
her hand and forcing her to look at him. “And I won’t ever stop. So say yes.
Choose.”

Katrina glanced down at the
documents laying side by side, staring her in the face. On one side was the
mantle she’d never thought she’d be free from. She had thought that being
Victor Giordano’s daughter would forever define her. On the other side was a
reminder that a name could be changed and a single role couldn’t define her
unless she let it. Yes, she was Victor Giordano’s daughter.

But, she was also Carmine
Giordano’s sister, and Thelma Giordano’s daughter. She was Angie Parson’s best
friend. She was a singer. Most importantly of all, she was Lyle’s love, and he
was hers. When she weighed the two against each other, there was only one clear
winner.

With a smile, Katrina reached for
the set of documents to her left. Parson’s erupted with whistles and cheers.

_____

“Would you stop complaining? It’s
not that bad!”

“It hurts like hell, don’t tell
me it’s not that bad.”

Katrina shook her head and
laughed as she glanced down at Lyle’s hand. It gripped the armrest between
them, his ring finger red where an intricate black design wrapped around it in
a dark band. A matching one was inked onto her left ring finger. She smiled up
at the stewardess as she walked past ensuring that all the plane’s passengers
were buckled in for takeoff.

“Excuse me, when you get a chance
could my fiancé get some ice for his finger? He’s in an awful lot of pain.”

“Certainly,” the stewardess said
with a smile, shooting Lyle a pitying glance.

He glared at her and shook his
head. “Couldn’t we have just gotten rings like a normal couple?”

Katrina shrugged. “When did I
tell you I was normal? Besides, I like the idea of something more permanent.”

Lyle’s expression softened as he
leaned toward her, brushing his lips with hers. “Yeah? This coming from a girl
who doesn’t make plans.”

Katrina reached across with her
tattooed hand, threading her fingers through his. “Things change, people
change. You did, why can’t I?”

Lyle gripped her hand in return
and laughed. “You know what?
 
I
think you’re right.”

“Damn right, I’m right. And when
it comes to you, I don’t intend to ever stop making plans. Because that’s what
people do, they make plans.”

“They also do very spontaneous
things,” he said, his voice filled with promise as the plane thundered down the
runway toward takeoff. “Like run off to the bathroom to join the mile high
club.”

Katrina laughed as Lyle leaned closer
to nibble on her ear. An hour into their flight, he proceeded to do exactly
that.

THE END

_________