“Have fun,” he said, his voice clipped.
Julie lowered her lashes, pursing her lips in a seductive manner. “Oh, I plan to.” As she slipped the palm of one hand through Brody’s elbow, she waggled her fingers on the other at Tommy and forced a giggle. “Good-bye, Tommy.”
And somehow she had to find a way to make that farewell stick. For good.
…
Julie sat beside Brody on a white folding chair inside the Great Hall of the Callenwolde Fine Arts Center. Candlelight flickered around the inside of the Gothic-Tudor-style mansion, creating the ideal romantic ambiance for a wedding.
When the bridal march pealed into the room, Julie stood and pivoted toward the grand staircase at the back of the room. Cait came into view at the top of the landing in front of the wall-length stained-glass window, dressed in a strapless, sweetheart, pick-up white ball gown, her veil covering her face and red hair. As she took her father’s elbow and slowly descended the staircase, the bride looked elegant and completely in love.
Envy shot through Julie and her gaze locked on the man standing three rows behind her, also on his feet, his blond head turned toward the back like everyone else’s. She forced her attention back to the bride. Tears stung Julie’s eyes as Cait made her way down the rose-petal-strewn white runner toward the man she loved.
As the bride stopped in front of the groom, Julie took Brody’s hand and squeezed as she watched Dante’s reaction. He looked handsome as always, his black tuxedo encasing his powerful body. His brown hair was freshly trimmed and his cheeks cleanly shaven. But it was his blue eyes, rimmed with tears, locked on Cait as she took her place by his side, that made Julie’s chest hurt.
What would it be like to be loved like that?
To feel complete confidence that the man beside you loved you as much as you loved him?
She wanted that so badly. Not a one-sided love, but a complete love. A true partner in life.
She glanced at Brody. If she gave him half a chance, could it be him?
Possibly. But like it or not, Tommy stood in her way. He’d seemed always to stand in her way when it came to finding that type of love.
So as Dante and Cait vowed to love each other until death do they part, Julie made a vow to herself.
She would have a wonderful loving husband who cherished her and amazing children to warm her heart.
And Tommy Sparks would be the one who gave her away on her wedding day, and the man her children called uncle. Just the way it was always supposed to be.
From this moment on, she would put away her foolish notions and accept that he didn’t love her, and that he never would.
…
Tommy sipped a glass of wine as he scanned the enclosed courtyard. The dim lighting made the bright blue holograph that read DANTE AND CAITLYN stand out on the herringbone-patterned brick dance floor, where round tables covered in white tablecloths and simple daisy centerpieces surrounded the perimeter.
Dinner was over. Though Tommy couldn’t have told anyone what he’d eaten, having been too busy scowling at Julie, who had clung to Brody through the entire meal, laughing at his stupid jokes, smiling up at the man like he hung the moon.
Tommy should have kissed her when he had the chance. But he’d known Brody would show at any moment. When he kissed Julie again, he was really going to kiss her—a deep, thorough kiss of discovery that he could lose himself in. Not one that would have been interrupted by that asshole ringing the goddamn doorbell.
After tonight, Brody wouldn’t be interrupting anything ever again. She wouldn’t be seeing him again.
It’d taken a damn week for Julie to finally come to him—one of the more frustrating decisions he’d made, trying to prove to himself that he wouldn’t treat her like other women. He wanted to let her take the lead, do things at her own speed, and if she wanted some space, then he was going to give it to her, whether he liked it or not. He’d also thought some time apart would help him get better control over his raging lust for her. Yeah. Wrong. As soon as she’d come out of the house last night, he’d wanted to pounce. Which had presented the perfect opportunity for him to prove once again that he could control himself around her.
Which he had. Barely. But the important point was he had. If he could practically have his face planted between her beautiful thighs and not ravish her, he was pretty damn sure he could kiss her without turning into a sex-crazed fiend. The last thing he wanted was to be that man with her —the man only seeking physical pleasure for him and his partner. The physical. No feeling, no emotion, just raw lust.
He was capable of more than merely fucking. He had to be. For Julie, he had to be able to make love.