He brushed the hair from her cheek with one hand. He let his forefinger rub gently across her lips.
“Listen very carefully, Julie. That should be something you save for someone you love very much. And when that happens, when you both love each other, then it will be gentle, and it will be the most beautiful thing in the world. Because that’s the way it should be.”
He saw he’d made her cry.
“I don’t want to hurt you. Thank you for the offer. It truly means a lot to me that you ask. In my younger days, with a pretty girl like you—”
Even in the dark he could see her shy smile.
“I would have taken you up on it in a heartbeat. But you’re too special, Julie. Making love is more than screwing or getting something out of the way. It’s about opening up your whole world to another person, or at least it should be.”
She brushed the tears from her cheeks and chuckled. “Well, I was willing to pretend, at least.”
“For me? You’d do that for me?” he grinned.
She nodded. He smiled.
“You are special. That’s the nicest thing anyone”—and then he remembered Martel—“well, almost anyone has ever offered me.”
He gazed at her face, unable to read her eyes. He liked the man he was being right now.
“As much as I’m sure I’d enjoy it, I’d rather be truthful and honest, instead of pretending. I don’t want to take the place of a gentleman someday who deserves the honor of your body with all the love and honesty I can see you have to give. It’s a beautiful thing, Julie. You’re an amazing, brave, and honorable woman. You deserve more.”
She started to answer, hesitated and then sighed. “I wanted to thank you for your service. I lost my fiance overseas two years ago. I say good night to him every night.”
“The marine?”
“Yes. He was like you. He didn’t want to do it until we were married.”
“Well, I didn’t—” He had to stop himself. “That’s a beautiful story, Julie. You’re keeping his honor. See? We both did the right thing…”
She laid her head against his chest again and several minutes later was snoring fast asleep. He enjoyed the feel of her unspoiled body against his own. Her glowing soul warmed him as they breathed in tandem. He couldn’t believe what he’d just experienced. He wanted her respect more than he wanted to sleep with her. Her naivety made her vulnerable and he didn’t want to take advantage. He didn’t want to rob her of the fairytale. Besides, she could always tell her friends she’d slept with a SEAL. And it would be the truth.
Sweet, young Julie had taught him a huge lesson.
About himself.
Chapter 4
Martel had never worn a powder blue cocktail dress before. She also never wore a pillbox hat with a small veil, covering just below her chin. She lost the battle with Kaitlyn, arguing that she wanted to wear her hair long. But it was Kaitlyn’s wedding, and the bride had all the young women wear their hair up in French twists at the top of their heads. Martel was the only one who wore a hat and veil, as the maid of honor.
“You look like mother,” she said to the mirror. A tiny wave of worry crossed her mind as she hoped she didn’t look too matronly. The purpose of the facials, the painted toes and fingernails, the professional makeup artist, and the hairstylist were to make her look stunning.
Well, that’s the bride’s decision to make and hers alone.
Kaitlyn would be the star of the show, no question about that. Martel just didn’t want to show up looking like her mother, like anyone’s mother.
All the girls gathered in the pastor’s study. Someone had brought champagne, and Martel grabbed a glass, downing it quickly. It did settle her nerves a bit. The bride sashayed next to her, looking sparkly and fresh. Her long blonde hair curled in soft ringlets, falling all over her shoulders and halfway down her back. It was how Martel had always thought she wanted to look as a bride.
“You look smashing, Martel.” Kaitlyn’s blue eyes were highlighted with light blue eyeshadow contrasting her pale pink lipstick.
“You don’t think this hat and veil make me look too old, do you?” she asked Kaitlyn.
“No!”
Several of the other girls joined their circle, each dressed in a different pastel shade of the same style.
“You can take the hat off, if you don’t like it.”
Martel could see Kaitlyn was trying to please her but didn’t really want her to mess with the costume.
“It’s your day, Kaitlyn. I’d wear a bathing suit down the aisle if you asked me.”
There was a collective “whoa” from the bridesmaids. More champagne was poured, glasses clinked, and they all started bantering like a bunch of chickens.
Pretty girls and idle gossip. They go hand in glove.
Kaitlyn’s mother entered the room, and everyone ceased talking. It would be hard not to notice how thin she’d gotten just in the few months since the original wedding plans were started. The wig she wore over her bald head, due to the cancer treatments, was for a much younger woman. Martel could almost envision a bow of some kind on the side, more of a ’60s style hairdo baked in.
She batted her hairless eyelids and smiled at her beautiful daughter, her cheekbones high, yet revealing gaunt and sunken flesh beneath.
“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt about this day for many years. I’m so happy I lived long enough to see you married. I couldn’t be happier with Greg as my new son. Thank you.”
Kaitlyn was a bundle of tears, collapsing into her mother’s arms. Her veil, with tiny star-shaped crystals sewn in, got temporarily entangled in her mother’s wig, and threatened to push it askew. Mrs. Carrington was quick to stop the movement.
Her mother lovingly smiled at all the girls. In her right hand she carried a pink bag. To each of the bridesmaids she handed a small package wrapped in pink tissue. To Martel, she handed a tissue wrapped in blue.
“These are from me to all of you. Thank you for agreeing to be part of this special day. I know Kaitlyn and Greg are so delighted we could all share this together. I hope you enjoy these little trinkets and remember this special time and how happy you have made us.”
As Martel and the other bridesmaids opened their packages, each found a gold heart on a delicate chain, the backside of the charm engraved with the date of the wedding. They helped each other put the necklaces on and, one by one, gave Mrs. Carrington a hug.
It was a sweet gesture, but so sad. Martel missed her mother’s presence as she fondled the heart-shaped necklace around her neck and looked into the eyes of the woman who probably wouldn’t make it to Kaitlyn and Greg’s first anniversary.
“Thank you, Mrs. Carrington. Your daughter must be such a gift to you.”
Then Martel’s eyes filled with tears. She realized the moment she shared with Mrs. Carrington was something she would never be able to do in her own life. First of all, there was no man at her side like Kaitlyn had with Greg. And Martel’s own mother had died shortly after she left for Oregon. She regretted not being able to attend the funeral. She’d told Kaitlyn Mrs. Long had died of a broken heart when her father left the family two years before. Damon had been a comfort to them both right after her dad left. Her mother was his biggest fan, until the end.
Mrs. Carrington knew she was stepping into a role Martel had artificially placed her in. “Your day will come. And in case it’s not soon, your mother and I will hold hands and watch from above.”
Martel heard the collective gasp as each of the women in the room tried to stifle an outburst of tears. Someone suggested more champagne.
Why are weddings so emotional? Martel wondered. Maybe it was because younger people strive for their happy day, and maybe it was because older folks liked to fondly remember their youth. It was an artificial bringing together of families, made by choice and not accident.
As choices went, getting married probably was the easier one, Martel knew. She’d had her share of choices and had artificially plastered over all the ob
jections and second guesses. Today, they came crashing down on her.
She ran to the bathroom.
What’s going on with me?
She dabbed water on her face, trying to remove redness that collected in and around her eyes. A makeup bag was laid open on the counter and she applied concealer under her eyes before adding more silvery blue highlighter on her upper lid. She touched up her lips with the cherry red color she hoped might attract attention.
Well, she was not going to be in her twenties in a few months, as she celebrated her thirtieth birthday. Time to get real. Time to strategize the rest of her story, add some romance, and, yes, more than a little lust. She’d been brave, and worked hard for everything she achieved, covered up her sadness, and dealt with vacant places in parts of her heart. She’d gotten really good at that.
A gentle knock on the bathroom door was followed by Kaitlyn’s whisper. “Are you alright, Martel?”
“Yes.” She opened the door and smiled.
She had to tell Kaitlyn something even though her friend was too much a lady to pry.
“Just seeing your mother today, seeing how happy she is, it makes me miss my mom.” She placed her hands on either side of Kaitlyn’s face. “You’re so lucky. I hope every day for the rest of your life that you are as happy as you are today. That’s my wish for you.”
Of course, that brought on a flood of tears streaming down the bride’s pretty face.
“It’s going to happen, Martel. You watch. It will happen. Do you know how they say, ‘the beach heals everything’? I truly believe that with all my heart and soul. I’m so happy you came to Florida and we got to be friends. I hope you’ll stay here forever and ever.” She whispered, “And I’m gonna need you to babysit.”
Martel dropped her hands and stepped backward. “Are you saying…?”
Kaitlyn nodded. “We got a little sloppy. I mean we were going to get married, right? But in all the planning and Greg’s job—he’s been so incredibly busy. We just got lax and voila! I think I’m about three months along.”
“Does your mother know?”
“Don’t say a word. We’re going to tell her after the Honeymoon, if I can keep my mouth shut.” She leaned forward, “I guess they call it a babymoon now.”
Martel studied Kaitlyn’s tummy. “You don’t show at all.”
“You haven’t seen me naked. I have a baby bump, No question about it.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
Martel was the last one to leave the pastor’s study and was whisked hurriedly to the back of the line to make her entrance after the bridesmaids. Her insides were jumbled. Her ears buzzed, and comments made by the other bridesmaids, the wedding planner, and everyone else around her were muted as if she was listened to them through water. She felt like she was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the world and people performing on stage all around the edges.
Organ music got her attention. Brian, Greg’s best man, presented his elbow. “Madame?”
She enjoyed hooking her arm in Brian’s, tucking herself gently at his side, as they were given the go-ahead to march down the aisle.
The veil on her hat was scratchy, irritating her nose, and she worried the red lipstick would smear and leave marks all over her cheeks. But she smiled at the audience on both sides of the aisle and decided, even if her greatest fears came true and she looked like a painted clown, she wouldn’t let them see her concern.
At the front of the church they separated, and she turned to stand at the left. She held her bouquet of tuberoses tightly to her waist, scanned the audience, and smiled.
The congregation rose as Kaitlyn and her uncle began the short journey to the front. She watched the bride’s eyes laser-focused on Greg. She saw the determination of her friend as she crossed the threshold from single lady to a married woman, and future mother. How Martel envied the way Kaitlyn could depend on her man and that he was standing there in front of everyone, declaring his love for her with that action.
Martel found it hard to breathe all of a sudden but kept her gasps for air silent. She had so much in common with Kaitlyn, more than her friend would probably ever know. Her life was going to play out differently. She made peace with it, which settled her a bit.
They two made better choices. Well, even if they weren’t better, this day was as the result of their choices. Their conscious effort to design a life together.
Kaitlyn smiled at her through the shimmering veil, handing Martel the exquisite bouquet she carried, a larger version of her own. As the bride turned to face Greg, the couple held hands. Martel was distracted by movement out of the right side of her eye.
Damon Hamlin’s steady gaze was not focused on the bride and groom, which would have been much more appropriate. He’d been studying her. And he wasn’t afraid to show it.
Martel made her choice. She did not smile but refocused her attention on the ceremony.
Afterword, the picture taking went on for nearly an hour. They ended the photo session with a mock “worst wedding photo ever,” and then the group peeled off and headed to the reception in separate cars.
Brian drove Martel and another couple to the beach that was going to be their party place. The sun had started to hang very low on the horizon, bathing the huge white canopy in warm orange light. The wedding cake and refreshments were set up in the Sunset Beach public gazebo, which was the only part of the reception that was rented. Tables and chairs dotted the beach in clusters. Two large boxes at the entrance were set up for people to remove their shoes. It was the bride and groom’s express wishes, boldly printed on a poster above the boxes, that the entire wedding party “go barefoot” in celebration. Kaitlyn and Greg’s shoes were the first pairs in the box.
They’d hired a mobile DJ to play dance tunes, most of them being 60s style surfing as well as popular Cuban songs and what Martel called “Margarita Music.”
She was shown to her table and promptly removed her hat and veil. She was grateful she could finally breathe.
Several of Kaitlyn’s students from their school were in attendance, lined up to give their teacher a hug and shake the hand of the man who had become her groom. She listened to mothers of the children gushing glowing words of praise on Kaitlyn. It was clear, even though Martel knew all about it, that she was a favorite teacher at the school. In fact, the two friends were usually voted most popular.
“Aren’t they cute?” Kaitlyn whispered to her after several of her students passed through the reception line.
“Darling. Kate, they think you’re a rock star.”
“Actually, Greg’s the rock star. He has a little group of devotees now. Isn’t it great?” Kaitlyn angled her head and squinted. “You took off your hat.”
“It was driving me crazy. The veil itched my nose. I thought I was going to sneeze all during the wedding. I’m never going to wear one of these again. Ever.”
They both laughed.
She was introduced to several other friends of Greg’s, relatives of Kaitlyn’s, and other people who passed through the line without identifying how they got there.
She hadn’t been paying much attention to who was “on deck,” but all of a sudden, Damon was standing before her, extending his hand.
“I like your hair up. Because…” He leaned forward and whispered, “I think you’re just as pretty as the bride.”
She must have registered shock, because he let his eyes go big, and covered his mouth.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Nice to see you too, Damon.” She tried to show him that she had no sense of humor, and the joke had fallen flat. She turned her head to the left and greeted the next person in line, forcing Damon to move to the side.
“Kaitlyn, thank you for letting me crash your party. I like your choice of venue,” he said loud enough for Martel to hear.
“I know. It was Greg’s idea. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“The best.” He addressed the groom. “Well, Greg, you got snag
ged, but I don’t see you protesting.”
“Good to see you, man. Julie fix all the places that were hurting? You put on quite a show at the Catfish.” The groom punched Damon in the arm.
Julie?
Martel didn’t pay attention to Damon’s answer. The music had started. The line dispersed as the wedding party began mingling with the crowd. Martel left in search of something stronger than champagne.
It was near sunset when they cut the cake. With a swirling, lush orange and purple backdrop, they toasted the bride and groom and then watched the sun melt at the horizon.
She knew Damon had been watching her. She made a point of ignoring him as much as she could, but he caught her sneaking a glance in his direction that she tried to deflect.
Dancing was one of the things Martel loved to do ever since she was a little girl. She danced with Kaitlyn’s uncle, and Greg, and several of the groomsmen, including Renny.
“I did not know that you and Damon were acquainted. I imagine you were just as shocked as he was to see you.”
“Yes, he’s the last person in the world I ever thought I’d see here. So you guys serve on the same SEAL team?”
“We do. He’s been a good friend. I doubt I would’ve made it out of BUD/S without his help.”
“Butts?”
Renny laughed. “BUD/S. Or Basic Underwater Demolition. It’s the training we do before—well, one of the things we do before—we get pinned. It’s that part you see on TV all the time. We have to stay up for six or seven days in a row. You’ve seen the films, right?”
“Oh yes. I know what you mean now. Tough journey for you both.”
“Our class passed about twelve percent of the original class.”
“Is that unusually low?”
“Actually, it’s a bit higher than most.”
“That must make you feel very proud. Have you wanted to join the military for a long time?”
Martel knew the decision had come quickly for Damon and wondered if it was the same for Renny.
Second Chance SEAL: The Girl He Left Behind (Sunset SEALs Book 2) Page 4