by Traci Hall
He was going to need one. Christian cleared his throat. “She couldn’t believe it, but Laura and Ken got back together.”
Sinead’s beautiful green eyes narrowed and she flipped the visor up so hard it bounced. “They did?”
He nodded, his stomach tight with apprehension.
Her hands curled over her knee caps as if she was holding on to them to stay seated. “So, what are we doing driving to the Breakers?”
“We are going to be married,” he assured her. “Instead of an hour, they have agreed to share their time and space with us.”
She relaxed, her shoulders settling back into the seat. “Thank God. That was really nice of them. Thirty minutes is kind of fast, but we can make it work.” Sinead reached across the console and put her hand on his leg. “We can do it.”
“Fifteen minutes.” He cringed.
“Fifteen?” She inched her body close to the door so she could study him, as if the passenger door was another country and they were at war. “We are supposed to get their people out and our people in, and say our vows, in fifteen minutes?”
“They do it in Vegas all the time,” he said.
The joke bombed and she stared at him as if he’d grown horns and Satan’s tail. “Not funny Christian.”
“Sorry.”
Sinead sat forward and brought her hands up to cover her face. Then she lowered them and exhaled with a loud humming through her nose.
“It is okay.” She stared down and spoke to the car floor. “It is okay. The end result is that we are married.” She peeked at him through the veil of her hair. “Photographer?”
“We’ve got one.”
“Cake?”
“Check. White and chocolate with ivory frosting.”
“Anything else I need to know?” Her sarcasm was impossible to miss.
“No.”
She clenched her fist, her mouth set in a determined line. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”
“Don’t give up now, Sinead. The finish line is in sight.”
“You wanted stories to share on our fiftieth wedding anniversary—is this enough, or do we need to keep going?”
Rain pelted against the windshield and he focused on the road. “I’m good.”
“Me, too.” Sinead crossed one leg over the other, nervously bouncing it up and down. “In fact, nobody would blame me if I had a nice and quiet breakdown somewhere.” Her voice thickened.
“Can I come?” This marriage was about the two of them becoming one—she couldn’t leave him after all they’d been through. “I’ll sing to you.”
“Of course.” Her chin lifted. “No matter what happens, it’s you and me, Christian. You and me.”
He knew that to the core of his being. “The rain will pass.”
“It has to.” She shook her fist at the sky as they exited toward Palm Beach. “Enough already!”
Lightning cracked, illuminating flashes behind gray clouds. Please, please, please stop raining.
Please, please, please stop raining, Sinead thought, leaning her head against the passenger door window. The cool glass did nothing for her heated skin.
Could Fate be any crueler? “You have the rings?” she asked.
“Yes. In my pocket.”
“Good.” What else could go wrong? She hated to ask.
Her mom and Fianna were driving up together. She sent Fianna a text asking if they were on the road.
Fianna immediately answered that they were already at the hotel. Excellent.
She texted Collette, who also answered that she was en route, and would meet them there by eleven for massages.
Sinead decided that blue skies for her outdoor wedding were now optional. Dry weather would be enough. “You know, we can always Photoshop the sky. Or have our pictures done in sepia.”
“That’s cool—artistic.” Christian smiled at her, watching her to make sure she didn’t freak out.
“Forced to be hip.” She smiled back and slipped into the white rain boots with big yellow daisies all over them. “What do you think?”
“Love ‘em. Going to wear those with your dress?”
“If necessary.” She stretched out her legs. “I love you, Christian. Let’s just have some fun.”
No matter what happens, I will keep a smile on my damn face and enjoy the moment.
The rain didn’t let up, but the resort had a covered entrance so she and Christian were able to valet and unload without getting soaked. Her dress was dry and protected in the plastic, as was Christian’s tux.
“I should’ve bought you matching boots,” she said, her tone light.
“I would have worn them for you.”
Sinead took his hand and squeezed. “It’s okay. We are okay. Look, there’s Mom and Fianna, by the bar. With Xavier and Paul.” The two guys were in shorts and t-shirts, their chins smooth-shaven. Paul, a few inches shorter than Xavier, had broader shoulders and darker hair. Paul’s wife lived in New York while he traveled often on business and kept a condo in Ft. Lauderdale. Marriage had hardly changed his life at all. Now Christian was getting married, leaving Xavier as the only single.
Fianna laughed at something Xavier said, her hair in twists and loops on top of her head that would be gorgeous curls later. Even without a touch of make-up, her sister was stunning. The fact that she was dressed in a blue resort robe didn’t detract.
“Morning! Happy wedding day!” Fianna’s green eyes glittered. She handed Sinead a glass of champagne. “We’ve already been in the hot tub downstairs. And the spa makes a coconut lotion that you can eat—I swear.”
Sinead’s mood lifted. “You’ve been eating the lotion?”
Her mom, also in a blue robe and pinned hair, kissed Sinead’s cheek, and then Christian’s. “Happy wedding day. I love you both.”
Xavier, his dark blond hair brushing his ears, clapped Christian on the back and helped with the suitcases. The woman at the check in desk said, “Welcome, welcome. Your room won’t be ready until noon. Right after your massage?”
Sinead nodded. “That’s fine. Is there a place we can keep our things?”
Her luck, somebody would steal her dress—she’d get married in the blue spa robe. Nothing would stop her this time.
“I’ll lock it in the back room here,” the woman said, gesturing behind her.
“Thanks.”
Christian, his hand on the small of her back, led her toward the spa. “I can’t believe I’m getting my third manicure this year.”
“It’s very metro sexual,” Xavier said with assurance as he lifted his own hands. “Feels pretty good too, getting rid of those cuticles.”
Fianna laughed and took Xavier’s hand. “Soft. It’s nice.”
Xavier grinned at her, rubbing his thumb over her wrist.
Sinead wondered if they were planning on when they’d complete the Monroe-Sharp wedding hook up. Third time? If she and Christian kept almost getting married, that would give Fianna her longest running relationship.
The spa was in the lower level of the resort without a view of the ocean or the weather outside, which made it possible to believe that everything was just fine until Collette joined them, her cheeks flushed and her brunette hair damp. “Hey!”
“How’s the weather?” Christian greeted his sister with a worried look.
“Supposed to clear up within the hour,” Collette said, her fingers crossed.
Sinead’s heart lifted. “Really?”
“Not what I heard.” A nail technician lifted her head from her work table. “There’s a tropical storm warning,” she said. “Irwin or something.”
“What?” Sinead clutched her mom’s arm. This could not happen. “Since when?”
“This morning, about an hour ago.” The tech spread out her nail files and poured some cuticle solution into a bowl.
Sinead had stopped checking the weather channel at 8 this morning figuring she was in the clear. “No,” she argued. “It was a tropical depression with an unformed center.”
<
br /> “You sound like a professional,” Xavier commented, patting Sinead’s back.
The woman in the smock smiled from her station. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Collette brought out her smartphone and pulled up the weather service website. “True—a very weak tropical storm and we are nowhere near the cone.” She brought the phone over to show Sinead. “See? It’s okay. Let’s just get our massages. Relax and enjoy.”
Collette looked at Christian.
Christian nodded.
“She knows about the time delay?” Collette asked.
“Yes.”
Sinead shuffled her feet in the rain boots. “I understand that Laura and Ken made up, the bastards.”
Fianna and her mom gasped.
“You didn’t say anything!” Fianna said, moving from Xavier’s side to Sinead’s.
“We just got here,” Sinead said defensively.
“Tell us.” Her mom’s eyes went a little crazy and she grabbed the woman ready to soak her nails by the wrist.
“It’s a small delay—instead of 2:00, the ceremony will be at2:45. It’s still happening.” Sinead said this was as much conviction as she could muster. “It will just be shorter, that’s all. And if the weather is spitting rain, then that’s not such a bad thing. It will cool things down.”
“True.” Her mom sighed through pursed lips.
Fianna finished her mimosa and handed the empty glass to Xavier. “I think we’ll need another round.”
“It’s okay, Fianna. I told you—we are not cursed.” Sinead had a very difficult time believing her own words.
“What curse are you talking about?” Christian asked.
“There’s no curse.” Her mother rolled her eyes.
“Mom, you need to fess up and tell us what you know. Grandma was married three times. Obviously, the Monroes have a hard time staying married. Love they find, but staying hitched seems to be a problem.” Fianna’s green eyes were huge in her face as she stared at Madge.
“Your grandmother lived to be a hundred,” her mom argued back. “Her first marriage lasted forty years and the other two ten each. We are not cursed.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Christian frowned at Sinead.
“I know.” She glared at Fianna.
Her sister shrugged at Xavier, who grinned and said, “Curses. Foiled again.”
“Can we just get our massages, please?” Sinead’s tight shoulders hurt. A tropical storm?
“We aren’t in danger.” Christian spoke as if he’d read her mind. “And 39 miles per hour wind is no big deal.”
“73 is,” she countered.
“It’s up near Fort Meyers. Sanibel.” He held her gaze.
“Storms change direction all the time,” Xavier said.
“And they usually dissipate into nothing.” Christian held her gaze as if daring her to argue.
“Don’t worry,” Collette said, her smile strained.
“Fine. No worries.” Sinead looked at the five women waiting to deliver their massages. “I need someone who’s going to destress the bride.”
A woman in white on white scrubs that read Breakers said, “I will be glad to take care of you. Let’s talk about your special day.”
“If you want me to relax, we need to talk about something else. Definitely not the weather.”
By noon, they were in the bridal suite.
A fruit basket, champagne and chocolate covered strawberries were laid out on the table overlooking the angry ocean. Gray skies overhead, churning white-capped waves below.
Collette stood next to her and stared out at the courtyard. Remnants of pink streamers from the first wedding of the day whipped in the wind.
“They made it without a single drop of rain,” Collette said. “We’re just going to watch and Ferguson has staff on stand-by to get people set up as quick as possible for the next ceremony.”
Sinead nodded, too numb for tears.
“These strawberries are delicious,” her mother said. “Do you want one, Sinead?”
“No thanks, Mom.” She couldn’t eat. Her future hinged on the rain.
Christian and the guys had the front living area, where they had the television on to some game, leaving the ladies the bathroom and large bedroom to get ready in. Her massage hadn’t relieved the tension in her shoulders.
“Cute boots,” Collette said, eyeing the white and yellow rain boots near the bed where she’d dropped them after the pedicure. “I see you came prepared.”
“I am marrying your brother today.” Sinead fisted her hand like Scarlet at Tara declaring she would never go hungry again.
“I know. What a story to tell.” Collette gave her a one-armed hug.
“We’re done with collecting stories. Enough.”
Collette smiled and walked to the champagne bottle, her feet bare and toes freshly painted pale aqua, her dress floating around her legs in cloud of sheer aqua chiffon.
Fianna’s hair was teased into long curls and then sprayed before she slipped into her dress. The color suited both women, surprisingly enough, though they were very different in looks, each was beautiful.
“Thanks for doing this with me again,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Her mom smiled. “Happy to be here, honey.”
“Me too.” Fianna looked in the mirror and fluffed the hem of her dress.
“Me three.” Collette studied her matching manicure. “But let’s make this time the last time.”
“Deal. I couldn’t do it again.” Sinead stared out at the heavy clouds. Thunder boomed. “I can’t. It’s this or nothing.”
“Oh, Sinead,” her mom said. “Statements like that have a way of biting us in the ass.”
Collette smoothed the moment over and gestured to the waiting wedding gown. The gorgeous sequined top fitted to her like a second skin and the mermaid skirt made her feel as if she had more curves than she did. “Ready?” Collette asked.
“I am.” Sinead nodded. “I so am.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sinead stared out the window of the bridal suite down at the rear courtyard as Laura, a short woman with bleached blonde hair ala Marilyn Monroe, and Ken, an Asian gamer-type, managed to say I do. The courtyard was relatively dry, considering the bands of wind and rain that came through every ten minutes or so. Their wedding guests all had umbrellas and plastic raincoats bought in the Breakers lobby.
Light rain she could handle.
What had her nibbling her thumbnail was the thunder rumbling as light flashed sideways across the sky. Go away!
Collette paced across the room and joined her at the window. “Ferguson says that if there’s lightning, they can’t let us out. It’s a liability the hotel can’t afford.”
“Fifteen minutes. That’s all I need. Hey, I can do it in five. Christian, how fast can you say I do?”
“Done.” He slid his palms together in a fait accompli gesture.
Her nerves bordered desperation. She counted the seconds between flashes and rumbles. If she and Christian didn’t get married today, she felt like she’d die inside. She deserved to be married to the man she loved over anybody else, didn’t she?
How cruel was the world to bring her the outdoor venue of her dreams only to have a storm? Laura and Ken were taking too long, damn it.
Wasting daylight, with all that kissing. Move it, she thought. It’s my turn.
A loud crack seemed to echo off the ocean, resounding in deafening waves. Sinead bit through her nail. Shit.
Her mom smacked her hand down, then brought her away from the window as she searched the vanity for a nail file. “Stop it, Sinead. Ruining that lovely manicure won’t help.”
“And it might snag your dress.” Fianna also looked on the verge of tears. “Oh, Sinead, I don’t know how you can stand this.” She got up off the chair and walked toward her. “Three times.”
“Not necessary,” Christian said, giving Fianna a pointed shut up look.
Collette, who had also
been counting the seconds between booms, turned with a cautious smile. “It’s clearing. It’s been two minutes since the last lighting flash.”
Sinead sank down to the carpet, the skirt of her wedding gown pooling around her as if she’d melted into the floor.
“Don’t sit now!” Christian lifted her up. “Let’s go downstairs.”
“I’ll help get the guests seated,” Xavier volunteered. “Let’s just hurry.”
Collette said, “We’ve only had twenty people show up, due to the inclement weather.” She lifted her phone and checked the wedding event Facebook page.
Sinead leaned on Christian and looked up at him. “Is that okay?” He’d wanted their friends and family to witness their marriage.
“Yes. Let’s do this.”
They left the bridal suite hand in hand. Her mother walked behind her with Collette and Fianna. His parents were down in the bar plying the nervous guests with drinks. Xavier and Paul followed.
“Got the rings?” Xavier asked.
“Yes.” Christian patted the inside of his suit pocket.
“Bouquets?” Her mom scanned to make sure that everything was accounted for, picking up Sinead’s free hand to make sure she’d gotten the nail smooth.
The tension in the elevator as they rode down was palpable.
She couldn’t take a rain delay.
Ferguson waited for them in the lobby. His blond hair had a shaggy look to it that probably came from all of the hair-pulling days like today caused an event coordinator.
“Sinead, you look gorgeous!” He walked her to where her wedding guests waited by the bar. The windows were spattered with rain.
Laura and Ken were holding court, married, thank you, with their wedding party in the room opposite the courtyard.
“The weather is holding off.” Ferguson nodded at them all. “As soon as we have two minutes of dry skies, we will get a new canopy out and a fresh aisle set up.”
Collette’s body relaxed. “Wonderful.”
Sinead felt burgeoning hope that yes, her wedding was going to happen after all. It had taken so long, and this was so ridiculous, but nobody would ever have a better story.
She reached across the polished maple tabletop for Christian’s hand. “This is it.”