Waterfront Weddings (7 page)

“They liked our original stuff, don’t you think?” Luke asked.

“Seemed to.” Justin looked over at Luke’s profile and wondered again why he hadn’t tried harder to work in the music industry. He, Jimmy, and Will were in it for fun. Luke was the real talent. “You know that contest I was telling you about? The songwriter showcase?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah.”

“The entry deadline is coming up soon. All you have to do is send in a demo.” He’d been trying to get Luke to submit an entry for weeks. “And the final round judges are some big names. People who might actually record your songs if they like your style.”

Luke shrugged. “Nah. I wouldn’t even know which one to submit.” He slowed the truck down as they came to a red light. “I do have a couple of unfinished songs though. I’ve been thinking about finishing them.”

“You should do it, man. I think the deadline is at the beginning of July.”

Luke sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“So it was great to see Summer tonight.” Justin had always liked Summer a lot. She’d gone out of her way to make him feel welcome every time he’d been over to their house. Once when his hot water heater had gone out at his apartment, she’d even insisted he stay in one of their guest bedrooms.

“Yeah. I’m glad to see her get out a little bit. If she’s not working, she’s off at some committee meeting or something.” He shook his head. “Usually she just wants to stay home and watch some chick flick on TV.”

“And I’m glad to finally meet Ashley.” Justin had heard about Summer’s coworker, but somehow they always missed meeting one another.

“Ashley’s great. She’s been a real lifesaver. You know how bad things were there for a while. . .” Luke trailed off. “And Ashley stepped up and ran the company on the days when Summer couldn’t handle it all.” Luke pulled into an empty space in front of Justin’s apartment. “You know, I didn’t think about it earlier, but I don’t think she’s dating anyone.” He raised his eyebrows at Justin. “I’m not positive, but I can find out.”

Justin had wondered about her status. “Cool.” He opened the door. “Thanks for the ride. See you next week.” He hopped out of the truck. Once he was on the sidewalk, he motioned for Luke to roll down the window. “If you guys want to go with me to church on Sunday, I think we’re having potluck.”

Luke’s jaw tensed. “I think I’ll pass.” Without so much as a wave, he backed out of the space.

Justin pulled his keys out and unlocked the door. He knew it made Luke mad when he invited him to Sunday services.

That didn’t mean he was going to quit asking. He’d just pray about it a little bit harder.

L
uke hated get-togethers with Summer’s family. He always felt like such a nobody around them. Granted, her grandmother had always been good to him. Even the house they lived in had been a gift from her, something that hadn’t set too well with her other grandchildren. She’d said it was her prerogative and they’d all have to get over it.

He pulled on a faded pair of jeans and an old brown T-shirt he found hanging in the guest bedroom closet where his casual clothes had been relegated to. This might pass muster on stage, but he had a feeling Summer would hit the roof when she saw it. “Too bad,” he muttered. “I’m not going to pretend to be somebody I’m not.” He looked in the bathroom mirror and raked his fingers through his hair. Not bad.

“You ready?” he called up the stairs to Summer. He hadn’t seen her yet this morning. He’d gotten in so late last night that he’d slept in the downstairs guestroom. Summer usually stumbled downstairs first thing for coffee, but one glance in the kitchen told him that the pot he’d made for her hadn’t been touched. She must’ve slept in.

He checked his watch. If they didn’t leave within the next fifteen minutes, they were going to be late. He sighed. “Summer?” he called.

No response.

A sudden panic gripped him, causing his stomach to lurch. He hadn’t gone upstairs last night to check on her. The alarm was on when he got home though. And her car was in the driveway. But still. That didn’t mean she was home.

Luke took the stairs two at a time, bile rising in his throat. His beating heart pounded against his chest as he threw open their bedroom door.

She was curled up on her side, sound asleep. She held Luke’s pillow tightly to her chest.

Milo sat on the floor, staring at her. He cast woeful “I need to go outside” eyes at Luke.

“Summer.” Luke said her name sharper than he intended. But during those moments between the kitchen and the bedroom, he’d been so scared something had happened to her. Robbery gone wrong, kidnapping, brain aneurysm—and those were only a few of the scenarios that had played out in his mind. Now, seeing her blissfully unaware filled him with anger. “Summer, wake up.” He grabbed her shoulder and shook it.

Milo let out a low growl.

Summer jerked upright. “What? What is it?” She peered at him through sleepy eyes. “What time is it?” She glanced frantically at the clock. “I can’t believe I overslept.” She jumped up and threw the pillow on the bed. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked, glaring. “You know we can’t be late.” She stomped to her closet. “I don’t even have time to shower.”

Luke ushered Milo out the door then turned to face his wife. “Simmer down. If we’re a few minutes late, it won’t be the end of the world.”

She scowled. “My whole family will be there, and you know they’re always looking for a reason to criticize me.” She flung a pair of gray pants on the bed. “I can’t believe this.”

Luke watched her flip through the vast assortment of tops in the walk-in closet. It had always amused him how she arranged her clothes by color. “You could wear that red top you wore last night.” He winked. “It looked nice.”

Summer looked at him with wide eyes. “I’m surprised you noticed it.”

He shrugged. “Most of the stuff you wear isn’t as bright as that. I liked the red.”

She yanked a light blue top from a hanger. “Yeah, well it wasn’t my style, so it’s no wonder you liked it.” She stood on her tiptoes and grabbed a shoe box. “Ashley picked it out.”

Only he could give a compliment and still manage to say the wrong thing. “I’d better go let Milo out.” He paused at the door. “Do you want me to pour you a cup of coffee into a travel mug?”

Her expression softened. “That would be great, thanks.”

Luke headed downstairs to tend to Milo. The upside to her oversleeping was that she hadn’t had a chance to criticize his choice of clothing.

He figured she wouldn’t notice until they were in the car.

And by then it would be too late.

As soon as Luke was gone, Summer sank onto the bed. What an awful way to start the day. A day that would probably contain plenty of trouble all its own without the added stress of running late and fighting with Luke.

And why couldn’t she have just been nice when he tried to compliment her on the way she’d looked last night? It was no wonder he’d slept downstairs.

Again.

She hurriedly ran a brush through her medium-length hair, thankful she’d started wearing it wavy. A few drops of texturizing cream, and it looked like it had yesterday when it was freshly washed.

She put on the outfit she’d picked out and grabbed her makeup bag. Thanks to the Saturday beach traffic, it would take at least thirty minutes to get to her parents’ house on Isle of Palms. She’d have to do her makeup in the car.

“You ready?” she asked once she made it down the stairs.

Luke glanced up from his favorite spot on the couch. “No.” He clicked off the TV and tossed the remote on the couch. “But I guess there’s no way out of it.”

Summer grabbed the travel mug of coffee that Luke had prepared and knelt to kiss Milo good-bye. “Be a good boy. I’ll take you for a long walk when we get back.”

Milo yawned and jumped up on the couch. He rested his head on the couch arm and watched her with sad eyes.

“That dog is spoiled rotten.” Luke chuckled as they headed out the door. He opened the passenger door on her SUV and motioned for her to get inside.

She brushed past him and climbed in. “He’s not too spoiled. He just likes to relax.”

Luke glanced at her as he got behind the wheel. “Whatever you say.” He started the SUV and slowly backed out of the driveway. “The new crepe myrtle looks good, don’t you think?”

Even though his days of working for his uncle’s landscaping company were over, Luke insisted on taking care of their yard himself. “It’s beautiful.” One thing that always cheered her up was their home and garden.

The stucco-over-brick home had been in her family for generations, built right after the American Revolution. Summer’s grandmother had lived in the home while Summer was growing up, and her best memories had been made in the lush garden or sitting out on the second-floor piazza listening to stories of Gram’s childhood.

Gram’s decision to give the home—along with a generous trust for its care—to Summer and Luke as a wedding gift had caused quite a stir in the Rutledge family. Summer’s siblings, Mitch and Chloe, had been furious. Her parents hadn’t cared too much—until Gram’s announcement that she would be moving to a home near theirs on Isle of Palms.

“We have the prettiest house on Legare Street,” Summer observed as they drove down the historic street. “And the most gorgeous flowers, too.” Most of the homes, including theirs, were in the traditional single style so common in Charleston. What looked like the front door from the sidewalk actually opened to a porch where a second door served as the home’s true entrance.

Luke chuckled. “Our neighbors probably think the same thing about their homes.” He stopped at the intersection of Legare and Tradd and waited for a throng of tourists to pass before turning left.

She leaned her head against the seat, trying to shake the bad mood she’d woken up with. “You guys sounded great last night.” She glanced over at Luke. His profile was perfect. No wonder that redhead had been fawning over him.

“Thanks.” He turned onto South Bay Street. “The weekly gig is ours if we want it. The manager liked our style and said he’d heard a lot of compliments.”

Summer chewed on her bottom lip. A weekly show was a big commitment. Over the years, she’d gotten used to Luke’s band playing shows every few weeks. But weekly seemed like a big step. “What did you tell him?”

Luke merged onto Highway 17. “I told him I’d talk to the guys. Justin is on board, but I have to check with Jimmy and Will. I figure they might need to run it past their wives.”

Summer inhaled sharply. Normally she loved the sights from the Arthur Ravenel Bridge that connected Charleston to Mt. Pleasant, but not today. “So Jimmy and Will’s wives get a say, but you weren’t going to ask me what I thought?” Her voice came out shrill and sounded way too much like her mother for her liking.

Luke wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t think you’d mind. You know how much this means to me.”

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes. “But sometimes you don’t think about what things mean to me.”

“So what are you saying? You want me to turn it down?”

Summer flipped through her bag to find her sunglasses. She could feel hot tears welling up in her eyes, and she didn’t want to give Luke the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “Of course not.” She pulled on the oversized glasses. “But it would’ve been nice to have been consulted. To feel like my opinion matters.” She paused. “For once.”

Luke groaned. “You have got to be kidding.” He reached over to take her hand, but she pulled it away.

“No, I’m not kidding.” She looked out at the water and for a moment wished she were out there in it, swimming toward a deserted island. “It’s like I don’t count anymore.” Her chest was so tight, she wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. “We never make decisions together. It seems like we live totally separate lives.” Despite the pain, she felt a sense of relief at having the statement out in the open. Except that now it hung between them like a haze.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this just as we’re getting to your parents’ house,” Luke said angrily. “Don’t you think you could’ve saved this conversation for a better time?”

She shook her head. “There isn’t a better time. When is the last time you and I talked about anything bigger than who was going to walk Milo or who forgot to take out the trash?”

He slowed down as they got into traffic. “We’re both busy, that’s all.”

She felt his eyes on her but refused to look at him. “We’ve been busy since we met. But this space between us hasn’t always been here.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Saying it out loud was almost as painful as keeping it inside.

And now that the floodgates had opened and the truth was out, she knew they would have to deal with it.

Except that she wasn’t sure if either of them was up for that right now.

L
uke silently followed Summer up the steps that led to a huge wraparound porch decorated with white wicker furniture. He’d been to her parents’ home plenty of times over the years, but still marveled at what it must’ve been like to grow up with the beach practically in the backyard.

Every time he came here, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the difference in how he and Summer had been raised. His daddy was a shrimper, weathered by the sun and wind. He’d raised his kids with an iron fist, especially after Luke’s mama had died. Summer’s family, on the other hand, had lived lives full of luxury. Her parents both came from money, and the thought of worrying that there might not be enough food on the table was a foreign concept.