Never a Bride

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Never a Bride Page 10

by Caridad Piñeiro


  They were as much family as his own family and now that work was over, he joined them in celebrating the day’s success.

  Chapter 11

  The fire was toasty warm as the four friends lazed about in front of it, exhausted after the long day. An early rehearsal dinner had led to their bachelorette party of sorts while the men had gone off to have their own last celebration before tomorrow’s wedding.

  Emma sat on the floor and leaned against the sofa while Maggie sprawled above her on the seat cushions. Tracy had draped herself crosswise in a comfy side chair while Connie lay on a plush area rug in front of the chair and smoothed her hands down across the long loose Mets nightshirt she wore.

  A week earlier, Connie’s belly had suddenly popped out a little like one of those old-fashioned stove top popcorn makers. It wasn’t a big bump yet, but in her current position it was decidedly noticeable. Not so obvious in the gown luckily, not that people seemed to pay much mind to that kind of thing lately. She’d seen nine-month pregnant brides waddle down the aisle with nary a raised eyebrow.

  “I feel so weird,” Connie said and ran her hands across the small mound, but there was a dreamy, slightly puzzled look on her face that was evidenced by her next words. “I never quite pictured myself like this.”

  “Neither did we, but it looks good on you. You’re . . . glowing,” Tracy said and leaned down to rub a hand across Connie’s belly.

  Connie sat up on her elbows and peered at herself. “Glowing, huh? Must be the firelight.”

  Maggie rolled onto her side and examined her friend. “Nope, it’s not the firelight. I’ve never seen you happier.”

  Emma had to agree, but it wasn’t just happiness she saw. There was serenity there. Peacefulness. Something she’d never seen in all the years she’d known Connie and her friend had been chasing a partnership in a big New York City law firm.

  Connie narrowed her gaze thoughtfully, considering the statement, and with a shrug said, “I am happy. Amazingly so. I wouldn’t have thought it, but I feel like . . . I feel like I’m finally where I was meant to be. Jon. The baby. Sea Kiss. My new job. Normally I’d be freaking out about all that, but now . . .”

  She didn’t need to finish because they all understood. Maggie maybe moreso since in the months after renewing her vows with Owen she too had seemed to find peace in her life.

  “I totally get it,” Maggie said, confirming what Emma had thought. “Things got off to a rough start with Owen and me, but lately everything is so good. It’s nice to have someone who understands me and supports me.”

  “And it doesn’t hurt that the Pierce brothers are both gorgeous men,” Tracy said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood that was becoming too maudlin.

  “It’s tough, believe me. Sometimes I roll over in bed and see him . . . I feel sorry for this poor little one and what she has to endure,” Connie said with a laugh and a pass of her hand over her belly.

  “You think it’s a girl?” Maggie asked, an almost wistful tone in her voice.

  With another shrug, Connie said, “Yeah. I can’t think of her as anything else so you better hurry up and give her a playmate, Mags.”

  Maggie chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Again, we’re trying. All the time. It’s like we never stop.”

  Tracy waved her hands fanatically. “Please, ladies. The next thing you know you’ll both be soccer moms and I’ll be the scrappy, wise cracking, old maiden aunt visiting for the holidays.”

  “You and me both,” Emma added, shaking her head.

  Connie huffed out a laugh and reached for the glass of sparkling apple juice she was having instead of the wine the rest of them had been drinking. “There’s nothing maiden aunt about either of you too, puleez,” she said and sipped her drink. Still holding the glass, she gestured with it toward Tracy. “You just made a mistake.”

  Tracy jumped in with, “A big one.”

  “So what? No one is entitled to a mistake?” Maggie said. “I sure have made more than a few in my life.”

  “And you,” Connie continued, shifting her attention to Emma. “You’ve got Prince Charming right in front of you.”

  “I’m not some fairy tale princess who needs to be saved, Con,” Emma shot back. “I’m a grown ass woman who can save herself.”

  “You go, girl,” Maggie and Tracy both shouted out playfully and raised their glasses of wine in a toast.

  Connie chuckled and lifted her glass. “That’s right. You go, girl. Right to Carlo if you have a lick of sense.”

  “OMG, Con. Some things change, but you obviously don’t. I still love you though,” she said and nudged her friend with her stockinged foot.

  “And I love you, Em, and Mags and Trace. You’re my best friends forever!” Connie picked up her glass again and they all toasted for what most have been the hundredth time that night since Emma was starting to feel a buzz. A very pleasant buzz that wasn’t only from the wine. Especially as Maggie shifted closer to the edge of the couch, reached down, and hugged her.

  Emma returned the hug with a one-armed embrace and relaxed back against the sofa, content to just sit and sip as her friends chatted about all that had to get done in the morning to be ready for the wedding. Hair, make-up, dressing, and so many other everyday things, but her brain was adding all the things she had to make sure were ready since she was the wedding planner. Luckily she trusted that Carlo, despite his groomsman duty, would likewise keep things in mind so that as promised, they would give Connie and Jonathan the most epic wedding ever.

  THE TWO PIERCE BROTHERS were in rare form, Carlo thought, as he watched them hoist up yet another glass of the aged bourbon Andy had brought for their bachelor party in Andy’s new Sea Kiss home. It was a big Victorian that had once been an inn and was located just off Main Street in Sea Kiss and across from the boardwalk and beach on Ocean Avenue. Andy’s wife had been nice enough to vacate the house until later that night and the men were sleeping there so the ladies could prep in private at the Sinclair home for the wedding.

  “To Maggie and Connie, our lovely wives,” Jonathan and Owen shouted out in slightly disjointed harmony.

  “Not your wife just yet, Jon,” Carlo reminded.

  Jonathan grinned in response and said, “It’s ‘cause I can’t wait. I love her, dude. Really really love her.”

  Owen slapped his brother on the back so hard Carlo winced, but Jonathan didn’t flinch. Maybe because the bourbon had done a good job of numbing him.

  “It’s because she made you wait so damn long,” Owen said and snorted a laugh.

  “Says the man who fell in love with his wife at six,” Jonathan parried.

  Owen laughed good naturedly and nodded. “I always knew a good thing when I saw it and may I say, I agree with your choice and yours, Carlo.”

  Caralho, Carlo thought.

  Jonathan plopped onto the sofa beside him and draped an arm around Carlo’s shoulder. “No pressure, dude. But just remember that if you hurt Emma you’ll have to answer to me and since I really like you that would be gnarly, dude.”

  Carlo shook his head. “I won’t hurt Emma. I lo . . . I care for Emma.”

  “You love Emma,” Owen said, slight disbelief in his tone, and sat down on his other side while Andy took a seat opposite them. “He loves the Ice Queen. That is gnarly,” Owen added, mimicking Jonathan’s favorite surfer expression.

  Carlo chuckled. “That’s what my brother Paolo calls her and yes, it is gnarly,” he confessed.

  Jonathan nudged him. “Hot guy like you is going to melt that ice.”

  “Yeah,” Owen said and elbowed him as well from the other side, causing some of his bourbon to slosh from his glass onto Carlo’s jeans.

  “You guys think I’m hot, huh? I have to warn you I’m not into threesomes,” Carlo said, hoping to shock his friends out of the discussion.

  “What?” Jonathan said at the same time Owen shot him a puzzled look and a “Huh?”

  “What he’s saying is lay off him and Emma not to men
tion that it’s time to hit the sack. Alone of course, unless you are into threesomes. Except for me of course since Sarah should be home soon,” Andy said and to drive the point home, peered at his wristwatch.

  “Tell me you’re not pissed, dude,” Jonathan said, finally realizing he might have stepped over a line with his comments about Emma.

  “We mean well. You’re our friend. Emma too,” Owen said, his tone serious despite the alcohol-induced haziness of his gaze.

  Carlo nodded and shot a look from brother to brother. “I know you mean well, but it’s complicated. I’m asking that you leave it alone, okay?”

  To make sure they understood, he rose, faced them, and held his hands up in pleading. “Leave it alone or you’ll make things worse. Trust me.”

  Jonathan saluted and Owen nodded solemnly.

  “Great and like Andy said, it’s time to get some sleep. I need to be up early to meet with my crew and then get back here to make sure you all don’t look like shit. Like you do now. We don’t want the ladies to get one look at you and run away,” Carlo joked, loosening up in light of the two brothers’ slightly drunk and hangdog expressions.

  “Sure thing, dude,” Jonathan said.

  “Maggie will kill me if I mess up tomorrow,” Owen added and hiccoughed.

  “Great. Glad to hear so get going,” Carlo said and met Andy’s amused gaze as the two brothers stumbled up the stairs to the bedrooms.

  “I have to confess I’ve never seen Jon quite like this,” Andy said with a chuckle.

  “Me, either, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Carlo said, smiling.

  “Yes, it is. He’s been way more happy and creative since he’s been with Connie and that, my friend, is a thing to behold,” Andy said and gave him a bro hug.

  “The right woman can do that to a man.” An image of Emma popped into Carlo’s brain, causing his smile to broaden.

  “Keep that in mind tomorrow, Carlo,” Andy said with a nudge.

  Carlo rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Not you, too, Andy.”

  With a shrug, the man walked away, but as he did so, he said, “I may be an old married dude, but I’m not blind, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said, but didn’t follow the other man up the stairs, needing some time to himself.

  He sat on the couch and picked up his barely touched glass of bourbon. Took a sip and leaned his head back against the top of the sofa as he thought about all that he had to accomplish tomorrow as well as how to survive what was going to be an emotional day for everyone. Especially him and Emma. He had no delusions about that. Walking down the aisle with her was going to be tough for both of them. And contrary to what the guys were urging, he had to stay cool and let Emma set the tone for the day.

  No matter how much he hoped that the change that had happened lately would continue, he wasn’t going to push because like thin ice on the top of a lake, breaking through the surface could be dangerous.

  Chapter 12

  Carlo rested his hands on his hips and did a slow turn to take in the conversion of the research and development center’s display area into the space for the cocktail reception which would take place before the wedding. Smaller table rounds were laid out through the space and had already been dressed with linens and centerpieces for the event later that afternoon.

  Once the trolleys, carriages, and Pierce vehicles transported the guests to the beachside home for the wedding, they’d return to the R&D center for the reception once the ceremony was over. His crew would have to do a quick turnaround to get the area ready which would mean changing linens, adding cutlery and glassware, and chairs. The florist in town had designed amazing centerpieces which would combine the smaller cocktail ones into more elaborate decorations for the evening.

  Which had him thinking about the flowers down at the beach house and whether everything was going well there. He whipped out his cellphone and dialed Emma, but it was Connie who breathlessly answered.

  “Connie? Everything okay?” he asked, worried that something had gone wrong if the bride-to-be was answering.

  “It’s beautiful, Carlo. Everything is absolutely perfect! ¡Tan lindo!” she said and there was no mistaking the joy in her voice which brought relief.

  “That’s great. Is Emma around?” he said and held up his hand as Tomás walked toward him.

  “She’s kind of busy with a slightly hungover Maid of Honor and bridesmaid. Good thing I can’t drink or it might have been three of us,” Connie said with a laugh.

  Carlo chuckled. “Totally get it. I’m not sure the guys are out of bed yet.” He hoped the bourbon had worn off and had not left too many nasty reminders of the night before.

  “Carajo, Carlo. What are you waiting for? Get back to Andy’s and wake my man up! I’m waiting for him!” she teased and ended the call.

  He laughed, shook his head, and Tomás said, “I guess everything is going okay?”

  Carlo nodded. “You could say that. You doing okay?” He’d noticed a more pronounced limp in his brother’s gait that morning.

  Tomás grimaced and rubbed his leg. “I feel like an old woman when I say this, but weather’s changing. I think snow is on the way again.”

  Carlo blew out a pained breath both because his brother was hurting, but also because of the possible snow. He’d heard it on the weather report on the way over this morning and had been hoping they were wrong. It would complicate moving everyone around. They normally didn’t get much snow so close to the shore, but this winter was proving to be different so far.

  He grasped his brother’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “Sorry you’re hurting and if you’re old, I’m ancient because I suspect that even in your current condition you could still kick my ass.”

  Tomás laughed and nodded. “I could. You’re getting soft, cabrão.” He poked Carlo’s midsection and feigned surprise. “Caralho. You’re all skin and bones.”

  Carlo yanked up his t-shirt to reveal his lean ripped abs. “All muscle, mano.”

  “You’ll look good in that suit,” his brother said with a rough exhale. “My brother in a suit. Never thought I’d see that day.”

  “You’re just jealous ‘cuz I look so good. Now get to work. I’ve got to wake up the men and make sure their ready.”

  “To meet their doom,” Tomás teased in a horror movie kind of voice and held his hands up like scary claws.

  The men walked outside and paused to look up at the sky. Thick clouds with dark streaks hung heavy in a leaden sky. Chilly air had that smell that just screamed snow.

  Tomás patted his back and said, “Relax. It’s nothing the da Costa brothers can’t handle.”

  He nodded and said, “Yes, we can handle it. See you later.”

  As he walked away, Tomás sent him a parting shot. “I’ll be sure to have my phone for some photos so mamãe can see you in your new duds. You look damn good, cabrão.”

  Carlo waved him off and got in his van for the drive through Sea Kiss and to Andy’s house. Even with the threat of snow there were still a few early morning risers strolling through the shops. A news crew van was parked on one side street. Probably to try and get some shots of the “celebrity” wedding.

  He turned away from Main Street and drove past Andy’s house just to make sure it all seemed okay at the Pierce family home where the wedding would take place. The circular drive was already lined with the luminarias and floral arrangements would greet the guests as they arrived. The front door entrance was likewise decorated with flowers, ribbons, and lights. As Connie had told him earlier, it all looked beautiful and he trusted everything was going well inside also.

  Relaxing a little, he turned back around and located parking near Andy’s. In no time he was inside where Andy was doling out aspirins to Owen and Jonathan along with immense glasses of water.

  Feeling like a little payback was in order for last night’s Emma pressure, he made sure his voice was on the loud side as he heartily slapped the brothers on the back and said,
“How’s it going, dudes? All set for the big day?”

  Both men winced and Jonathan glared at him. “We’re ready. No thanks to you. Why didn’t you stop us last night?”

  Carlo grinned wryly. “I distinctly remember someone saying there was no stopping the Pierce brothers when I suggested you might reconsider having more alcohol. Do you remember that, Andy?”

  Andy draped his arms across his chest and nodded. “I’m pretty sure that’s what I heard.”

  Andy’s wife Sarah waltzed in at that moment, walked up to her husband, and hugged him. With a playful tousle of his now short hair, she looked at him and said, “Thank you, Carlo. He looks so much better without all that mad scientist hair and that scraggly beard.”

  “But you love me anyway,” Andy said and kissed her.

  “I do and I may have to keep an eye on you today and fight off all those other women now that you’re so handsome,” she said before dropping a quick peck on his lips and hurrying out again with a wave.

  A flush worked across Andy’s normally pale cheeks. “I think she loves me.”

  “You’re a lucky man and today, I’m going to get lucky also,” Jonathan said cheerfully, but winced again at the loudness of his own voice.

  Owen laughed and grimaced at the sound, but still managed to say, “Considering the bride’s knocked up, I’d say you got lucky already.”

  “Sweet Lord, I never thought I’d be the one to have to reel you two in. Are you still drunk?” Carlo said and laid a hand on each brother’s arm to take them into a large parlor where their suits were hanging on a portable garment rack Emma had brought over days earlier along with the clothing.

  “Get your shit together, get upstairs, get clean, and get dressed. The photographer and videographer are going to be here in an hour,” Carlo said.

  “Shit, dude. Where’s your client voice?” Jonathan groused as he massaged his temples with his fingers.

 

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