Sinners at the Altar

by Olivia Cunning

  Chapter Eight

  Rebekah stared at the man who’d been her best friend since childhood and decided she didn’t really know him anymore. Or maybe she’d never known him. She’d always thought of him as perfect in every way. Everyone around him had placed him on a pedestal and held him there his entire gifted life. Now that he’d taken a few hits to his ego like everyone else in the world, she decided that she didn’t think less of him. No, now that she could see him as imperfect, she liked him even more.

  Isaac took both of her hands in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Your husband said I shouldn’t talk about myself today. He said I should focus on you. So here goes.” He took a deep breath. “I’m happy for you, Rebekah. I think you’ve found your match.”

  “I don’t mind if you talk about yourself. I know you’re having a rough time. Have you talked to your father since the party?”

  He shook his head.

  “He’ll come around,” she said. “I’m sure you’re not the first gay man in history to come out to his father and hundreds of onlookers at his surprise fake engagement bash.”

  Isaac chuckled, the sound warm and full of heart. “I’d like to meet others who’ve lived through this. Maybe they could tell me what to do with the rest of my life. My plans to take over his practice when he retires have completely fallen through.”

  “Well, I can tell you exactly what you should do. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and find a new dream,” she said. “Do you know how many times my own plans have fallen through? How many times I’ve had to admit defeat? How many times I had to reinvent myself?”

  Ever a man of logic, Isaac shifted his gaze to her forehead as he did his mental calculations.

  “Uh, six?”

  She chuckled. “Something like that. I’ve lost track.”

  “How do you do it, Rebekah? I know there had to be times when you just wanted to give up and go into hiding.”

  She lifted her eyebrows at him. “Do you really think so?”

  He gnawed on his perfect lower lip with his perfect white teeth. “I should have known you’ve never felt that way.”

  “I feel that way all the time. I really felt that way this morning,” she said.

  “At your screening?”

  She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears as a sudden rush of emotion caught her by surprise.

  His face went slack. “They found something, didn’t they?” He grabbed her by both shoulders and gave her a shake. “That’s why you got married so quickly. Why you invited me. How bad is it?”

  “First, I didn’t invite you, Eric did.” She peeked over Isaac’s shoulder and found Eric smiling and laughing with his friends while he kept half his attention trained on her. “This morning they thought they’d found a spot of cancer growing in my pelvis.”

  “Oh God, Reb, why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because it was a false alarm. Do you see what you’re doing here?”

  He shook his head.

  “You’re really good at scraping other people up off the floor when they’re down. But when it’s you who’s taken a hit, you can’t find your bootstraps to pull yourself up. Why is that?”

  He shook his head slightly, sending his soft brown curls dancing about his head.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s easier to analyze a situation when you’re on the outside looking in.”

  “So remove yourself from your situation. Stand outside yourself and look in. What do you want?”

  “Trey,” he said without hesitation.

  “And if I told you that he’ll never love you?”

  Isaac lowered his eyes. “I already know that.”

  “So what else do you want?”

  “I thought I wanted what my father has: a successful practice, load of cash, a big house with lots of colleagues who pretend they’re my friends. A wife and kids. A killer golf swing. But…”

  She squeezed his hands encouragingly, because she already knew Isaac wasn’t much like his father. Never had been, never would be. And he’d never find happiness as long as he chased his father’s dream. He glanced up and met her eyes.

  “But?” she prompted.

  “When I was in Africa, I felt I was really making a difference. I woke up every morning with purpose and connection. I don’t know. It just felt… right. Like it was what I was supposed to do. My calling. Does that make sense?”

  She nodded eagerly. “I feel that way when I mix Sinners’ music. I’ve never felt that way before about anything. That’s why I kept failing at everything I tried before. I hadn’t found my thing. You need to find your thing, Isaac. If it’s in Africa treating patients who can’t afford to pay you in anything but gratitude, then go back. There’s nothing holding you here.”

  He glanced at Trey, who was laughing at Jace as he tried to remove the sucker adhered to his jacket between his shoulder blades. Playing his part, Jace spun in one direction and then the other, slapping his back and shoulders as the stick remained just out of reach. But Isaac wasn’t even looking at Jace. He had eyes only for Trey. Trey didn’t seem to know Isaac existed.

  Isaac sighed and lowered his gaze to the carpet. “I wish you were wrong about that,” he said, “but you’re not. Trey doesn’t have to get over me. He was never into me at all. He just wanted sex and I gave it to him all too willingly.”

  “I know what that’s like,” Rebekah said with a laugh.

  Isaac’s head jerked up. “You had sex with him too?”

  “Eh, almost,” Rebekah said. “So what are you going to do, Isaac? Do you need a kick in the ass?” She kicked up the hem of her wedding dress. “I’ll do it!”

  Isaac stared into nothingness for a moment and then smiled slightly. Nodded slightly. Shook his head. Blew out a breath.

  “Isaac!” Rebekah shouted and gave him a shake.

  “What?”

  His eyes met hers, and she could still see the uncertainty there.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll think about going back to my patients. They do need me far more than anyone here does.”

  She wrapped him in her arms and gave him a friendly squeeze. “Don’t think, Isaac. Do.”

  “But maybe my father—”

  “Stop worrying about what your father thinks of you,” she said. “God knows my mother hates everything about my life, but I have to live the life that makes me happy, not one that satisfies her. You…” She patted his chest. “…need to live the life that makes you happy. Fuck him, Isaac. Fuck him.”

  Isaac chuckled, his cheeks slightly flushed. “You’re right. Fuck him. Fuck you, Dad. If you don’t love me for who I am, then I don’t need your approval.”

  “That’s right. Feel better?”

  He smiled his perfect smile and ran a perfectly manicured hand through a perfectly tamed set of light brown curls. “Yeah, actually. I do.”

  “Good, because I really need to be with my husband right now. I hope you understand.”

  “I’ve taken too much of your time already.”

  “You’re still my bestie, Isaac. Nothing will change that. If you need to talk or need a hug or want to go shopping, I’m here. Just not on my wedding night, okay?”

  He laughed. “I’ll miss you,” he said, giving her a hug that forced all the air from her lungs. “While I’m doing my thing in Africa.”

  Rebekah hugged him back, hoping Isaac would end up as happy as she was. Yet she kind of doubted it was possible. Her level of happiness was almost criminal.

  Chapter Nine

  Eric smiled down at his wife when she slid her hand into his and leaned against his upper arm. She gazed up at him with beguiling blue eyes, and he was glad they’d decided to put off the customary reception for a couple of weeks. How did new husbands make it through an entire evening without making love to their women? Maybe that’s where the booze came in.

  “Did you have a nice talk with Isaac?” he asked.

  “Yep,” she said. “Can we leave now, before someone else decides to interrupt?�
�

  “Oh good, you’re still here,” a familiar voice called from the church entrance. “I thought I’d missed it.”

  “You did miss it, Jon,” Sed called. “They’re ready to leave.”

  Jon rushed down the aisle. He looked surprisingly good as he took Eric’s hand and eagerly pumped it up and down.

  “I thought you weren’t coming,” Eric said.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said.

  “Jon,” Sed said, shaking his head. “You did miss it.”

  “I did? Right. Hope it was special. Anyway, I think I found us a drummer.”

  The entire band swiveled their heads in Eric’s direction, various levels of shock registering on their faces.

  “You aren’t going to leave the band, are you?” Jace said, grabbing Eric’s sleeve.

  Sed tilted his head back and shook it at the ceiling. “Happens all the time. Guy gets married. Wife takes over his life. Guy leaves band. Band is screwed.”

  “I’m not leaving Sinners,” Eric said. “I just… want to start a second band. A band with fewer fan expectations so I can try some experimental things. And sing. And play guitar.” Which would step on every band member’s fucking toes.

  Rebekah squeezed his hand in encouragement. He hadn’t wanted the guys to find out like this. He’d wanted to have some songs for them to listen to so they could see how different the two bands would be and why he didn’t expect Sinners to share his new vision.

  Nice, Jon. Thanks for that.

  “So do you need a bassist?” Jace asked.

  Eric couldn’t even bring himself to look at Jace when he said, “Jon’s playing bass.”

  “Oh,” Jace said flatly.

  Shit. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Jace. Eric wished that Jon knew how to keep his big mouth shut. That way Eric could have broken the idea to the guys himself and ensured that they realized he wasn’t going anywhere. The side project would always take a back seat to Sinners.

  “This thing is in its infancy,” Eric said, hoping to lessen the impact of his news. “I’m not even sure if it will get off the ground.”

  “It will definitely get off the ground,” Jon said excitedly. “I was talking to Caiden James when you sent me the wedding invite this afternoon. It took some encouragement and quite a bit of alcohol, but he’s agreed to join us. Well, he will if you ask him. I don’t think he really believed me. But he was stoked by the thought of working with you, Sticks.”

  “He’ll get in touch with you in a couple of days,” Rebekah said to Jon, taking Eric firmly by the elbow. “And you can hash out all the details about your band then.”

  Jon’s smile faded, and he scowled slightly as he looked down at Rebekah.

  “My husband,” she continued, “is mine for the next seventy-two hours or so. After that, I might give him a few minutes to himself, but don’t count on it. The man promised me a lifelong honeymoon, and I plan to hold him to his word.”

  Eric grinned and drew her against his side to give her a hearty squeeze. “That’s right, I did. We’d better get started on that. Later, dudes.”

  He scooped Rebekah off her feet and into his arms, and carried her toward the church exit. There was only so much waiting a guy could be expected to tolerate.

  Chapter Ten

  Rebekah hugged Eric’s neck and giggled against his shoulder. Thank God he’d decided to make an escape. There was only so much waiting a girl could be expected to tolerate.

  They’d almost made it to the door when rapid footfalls approached from behind.

  “Wait!” Jessica called. “Don’t forget to throw your bouquet. And we have rice. For luck!”

  “And the garter,” Myrna added.

  Eric blew out his cheeks and set Rebekah on her feet. “Almost made it,” he said.

  Rebekah tossed her bouquet over her shoulder without looking.

  There was a loud thud, and Rebekah turned to find Jessica on the floor, her body obscured by a pew, her feet sticking out into the aisle. “Warn a bride-to-be!” Jessica complained from between the pews. She lifted a hand into the air, clutching the bouquet in victory.

  Sed chuckled and shook his head as he helped her to her feet. “Did you hit your head? Why did you dive for it like that?”

  “Because no other woman in this room is getting married before me!” Jessica said, brushing off the skirt of her dress.

  “Aggie might,” Jace said quietly. “If we find the right time and place.”

  Jessica huffed out a breath. “Well… too bad. I caught the bouquet at risk of grievous injury, so we’re next.” She looked up at Sed. “And you’d better catch the garter or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

  Rebekah squeaked in surprise as the skirt of her dress was suddenly pushed up. Eric’s long warm hands grasped her bare thigh and then shifted to the other to slide the garter down her leg. He was surprisingly matter-of-fact about it. He tugged it over her foot and tossed it directly to Sed, who caught it against his waist with one hand.

  “Are you happy?” Eric said to Jessica.

  She flushed. “Yes,” she said quietly.

  “Good. Now go cook your man some rice; we don’t need it.”

  Rebekah snorted at Jessica’s wide eyes and even wider mouth. Jessica hadn’t managed to deliver a comeback before Eric tossed Rebekah over his shoulder, gathered her cumbersome train in his other hand, and practically sprinted the last few feet to the door. Giggling, Rebekah waved goodbye to all the smiling people in the church. Even Jon was grinning like a fool as he patted Jace on the back.

  At the top of the church steps outside, Eric yelled, “My wife!” before jostling her uncomfortably as he bounded down the stairs with her still over his shoulder.

  “My husband!” she yelled back.

  He swatted her on the butt, which she barely felt through the layers of fabric. And then at last he set her on her feet next to the passenger side of the Corvette. Her heart threatened to beat itself right out of her chest as she gazed up into his smiling face. He leaned down to kiss her. Before his lips brushed hers, he was interrupted by a loud, “Wait! You’re not married yet.”

  Her dad came rushing toward them waving a piece of paper. “You haven’t signed the license.”

  “So much for a speedy getaway,” Eric said, “but I guess signing the license is pretty important.”

  They signed their names, using the hood of the car as their writing surface. Jace and her mom signed as their witnesses, her dad signed as the officiating clergy, and it was finally official. They were married.

  “Can we go now?” Eric asked. “I never realized that marrying her would keep me out of her arms for so long.”

  “You can go,” Dad said. “Congratulations.”

  The rest of the party had made their way to the car by this time. So everyone required another hug, another handshake, another kiss on the cheek, another pat on the back. Eric opened the passenger door and slowly herded Rebekah away from well-wishers and into the car.

  He closed the door resolutely, took a deep breath, and circled the car to get into the driver’s seat. Jessica took out her camera phone and made them smile so she could snap a few photos. She’d taken some of the ceremony too. And Myrna had gotten a video on her phone. Rebekah spent the next several minutes thanking them profusely. She leaned out of the car to give Myrna a hug. And removed her veil to return it to Jessica, thanking her again for letting her borrow it. She turned toward Eric to find him with his jaw set, rolling his eyes at the steering wheel. He started the car, apparently ready to run over anyone still in their path.

  From behind the car, Aggie said, “I think you need to change your sign. It says almost married.”

  Eric slapped his forehead. “You people are driving me nuts! I don’t need all this ceremony. I just need her. Comprende?”

  He shifted the car into first and revved the engine in warning.

  “We’ll celebrate at the reception!” Rebekah called to the apprehensive friends and family backing
away from the car. “It’ll be fun. We’ll even get a cake and dance and everything.”

  Eric eased forward, waiting somewhat patiently for Dave to maneuver his wheelchair out of the car’s path. When they were finally clear to leave, Eric drove off, honking his horn all the way out of the parking lot.

  Rebekah turned in her seat so she could wave at everyone over the open back of the car. When they were all out of sight, she turned around and sighed happily. She didn’t mind a bit of ceremony, but she’d much rather spend her evening with Eric than with well-wishers.

  “Do you want to stay at a hotel tonight?” Eric asked, his eyes on the road.

  “No, I want to stay at your house.”

  “Our house,” he said.

  “Our house,” she repeated with a tender smile.

  Maybe the reason the ceremony was necessary was so a person felt married. She didn’t really feel as if anything had changed between them. Was she supposed to feel different? She’d given him her heart well before she’d said I do.

  Rebekah looked down at her hand and then rubbed the wedding band on her finger. It was a well-worn ring, comfortable as an old pair of sneakers. She almost felt as if she’d always worn it.

  “I’m glad Daddy let us use these rings.” She glanced at Eric, her eyes a bit on the watery side.

  “I figured you’d feel that way.”

  He reached over and cupped the back of her head, his own eyes shinier than usual.

  “Did he tell you the story behind them?”

  He shook his head.

  “His great-great-grandparents immigrated to the United States from England during the mid-eighteen hundreds. The husband, Walter, was a skilled cabinet maker, but they struggled at first because any profit they made had to go back into the business. Apparently they had to sell their wedding bands to buy shoes for their children so the kids could go to school. After many years, the cabinet-making business began to make a profit. Walter and his wife were able to buy a house and shoes for their kids. Figuring the man they’d sold their rings to had melted them down for the silver long before, they even bought new wedding rings. One day old Walt was designing new cabinets for a used-jewelry dealer and what did he see in the display case?”