Page 6 of Art of Love

The timing for Max and Juliette’s wedding had been perfect for him. He’d needed to get away from the city and all the new rumors. He’d arrived a few days early to help Max pick a few horses to fill his newly renovated barn.

Max had not only invited him to his wedding as best man but had suggested that he stay and watch over his property while Max and his new bride, Juliette, went on their honeymoon. He was pretty sure Max was taking pity on him after he found out some of the hell he’d been going through in the last few weeks.

They’d planned a small gathering that evening at a bonfire, or at least Max had said it would be small. Currently, there were more than a hundred townspeople gathered around two massive bonfires.

Abe stepped off the last stair and onto the beach and took in the sight before him. What was supposed to be a small get-together looked more like a full-blown festival. Two massive bonfires roared in the center of the beach between the water’s edge and the tall grass. Flames licked at the night sky, shooting embers into the darkness. People milled about in clusters, some gathered near coolers packed with beer, others dancing to the twang of a guitar being played by someone near the fire. The low thump of music mixed with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

“Small gathering, huh?” Abe muttered, shooting a look at Max.

Max just grinned and clapped him on the back. “Welcome to Pride. When we celebrate, the whole town comes out.”

Juliette appeared out of the crowd, barefoot, her white sundress flowing around her legs as she rushed into Max’s arms. Abe stepped back, giving them a moment. They looked good together, he had to admit. Genuine. Happy.

Which meant he was officially the odd man out.

He’d liked Juliette from the moment he’d met her a few months back, when they had come to California for a movie premiere.

He grabbed a beer from a nearby cooler, took a long sip, and wandered towards one of the fires.

He was halfway through his drink when he noticed her.

She stood a little apart from the crowd, leaning against a driftwood log, arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing cut-off shorts and a faded band T-shirt and looked better than anything he’d seen in years.

The firelight cast a warm glow over her tanned skin, highlighting the sharp cut of her cheekbones and the loose waves of long hair that framed her face. There was something effortless about the way she held herself, like she belonged here but didn’t feel the need to prove it.

Their eyes met, and for a brief second he expected recognition to flash on her face, like it usually did when people saw him. Maybe a flash of excitement. A whisper to a friend. The usual reaction when someone realized who he was.

But she just held his gaze, cool and uninterested, before looking away like he was just some guy at a party.

Well, damn. That was new.

Curious now, he watched her for a few more moments. She didn’t appear to be with anyone. No one really stopped and talked to her or included her in their group conversations.

Almost five minutes later, he finally manned up and wandered over to her.

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun,” he said, leaning on the log next to her.

She didn’t glance over at him, instead she kept looking down into a drink. “Neither do you.”

“Touché.” His lips twitched.

There was a long pause before she finally looked at him, one of her dark brows lifting slightly. “So, are you a friend of the bride or groom?”

“Groom.” He took another sip of his beer. “You?”

She shrugged. “Small towns. Everyone knows everyone.”

“Right.” He glanced around and then back when he noticed she was watching him.

“I’m Abe.”

“Dylan.”

She didn’t offer a last name. Didn’t gush about his music. Didn’t even give him one of those lingering stares like most women did. Instead, she took a slow sip of whatever was in her cup and turned her attention back to the fire. Maybe she really didn’t know who he was?

Lucky.

Abe studied her, intrigued despite himself. “So, you’re from here?”