Full Mountie

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by Ainsley Booth


  As Gavin’s sister joins them at the front to read a poem that doesn’t rhyme, Beth looks over at me. Her hair sparkles in the late morning sun.

  A soft cloud floats overhead, softening the brightness from the sky, but nothing can touch the brilliance of Beth’s smile. Her eyes are wet.

  I love you so much. The promise reverberates inside me.

  I don’t know if we’ll ever have a chance to say it in front of people like this, but tonight, I’m going to make sure she knows it to her core.

  “Do either of you know of any legal impediment to this marriage?”

  The officiant has returned to the ceremony script, and in unison, Gavin and Ellie respond with a practiced, “We do not.”

  “There having been no reason given why this couple may not be married, I ask you to give answer to these questions.”

  Beth winks at me, and I can practically hear her impersonating the stiffness of the language. I ask you to give answer to this most important question. My place or yours? My lips twitch.

  “Do you, Gavin, commit to Eleanor the love of your person, the comfort of your companionship, and the patience of your understanding; and to share equally in the responsibilities of your life together?”

  His mouth curls up in a soft smile, and his eyes are locked on his bride’s face. “I do.”

  “Do you, Eleanor, commit to Gavin the love of your person, the comfort of your companionship, and the patience of your understanding; and to share equally in the responsibilities of your life together?”

  “I do,” Ellie breaths, nodding as she says it.

  I do another scan of the crowd, letting my gaze settle on Hugh next as they begin their exchange of vows. What would it be like to share equally in the responsibilities of life with him? Not boring, that’s for sure. Ache explodes inside me. No, there’s no making light here.

  Fuck me. Now is not the time to have an emotional breakthrough. Six more hours and they’re all mine. And I’m all theirs. But right now, I’m on the clock.

  Watching your boss get hitched—there are worse jobs. I need to keep that in mind.

  “Please join your right hands, and once you’re settled, Gavin, please repeat after me.” Ellie passes her bouquet to Sasha, then the officiant lowers her voice to a murmur, so the vows ring out in the groom’s voice only.

  “I, Gavin, take thee, Ellie, to be my lawful wedded spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in whatever life may hold for us.” A light wind picks up and he reaches across to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Ellie’s ear before she repeats the same vows back.

  “I, Ellie, take thee, Gavin, to be my lawful wedded spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in whatever life may hold for us.”

  Max remembers his cue at this point and is already holding out the pouch with the wedding rings when the officiant turns to him.

  “Inasmuch as you have made this declaration of your vows concerning one another, and have set these rings before me, we all recognize these rings as a seal and a confirmation and acceptance of the vows you have made.”

  Gavin and Ellie exchange their rings quietly, without the officiant prompting from the script.

  After he slides her ring on, he reaches up and brushes a tear off her cheek. I sneak another look at Beth, and at the same moment, she turns to catch my gaze. This time there are no smiles, but the look we share is warm and understanding.

  The official photographer scurries backwards down the aisle, breaking our private moment, and then officiant raises her voice again. “Upon the authority vested in me by the Province of British Columbia, I pronounce you duly married.”

  Gavin and Ellie look at each other, smiles spreading wide across their faces. He cups her cheeks in his hands and kisses her thoroughly. I think he was supposed to wait for instruction, but it doesn’t matter.

  Her hands come up to curl around his arms, and when he eases back, she chases him for another quick kiss of her own. It’s adorable and I hope the photographer caught that moment. That’s the kind of moment they’ll want to remember.

  When they turn to their guests, they’re holding hands, fingers entwined, and everyone who wasn’t already on their feet now stands, cheering loudly.

  34

  Beth

  After the ceremony, Gavin and Ellie sit for a few formal family portraits with the wedding photographer, then carefully make their way onto the footbridge that sways high above the valley below, and runs from the lodge to a hiking trail beyond.

  Most of the guests, myself included, stay on the viewing platform and cheer them on, champagne in hand, as Gavin kisses Ellie over and over again so the photographer can capture that one image that they’ll send out to the world in a few hours.

  When they return to the lodge, we make our way inside for a wedding luncheon. Quebec cheese, at the bride’s request, and B.C. salmon at the groom’s.

  The food, like every other element of the day, is incredible. Even though a lot of wedding details crossed my desk over the last four months, seeing it all come together is something else. The dogwood blooms that decorated the invitation were echoed across the top of the program, and now they’re in front of us again on the printed menu. And that gorgeous lavender colour I’d teased Lachlan about is everywhere, with purple hydrangeas and sea holly tucked into urns overflowing with white flowers, most of which I can’t name, but I love them all.

  Ellie’s bouquet is drawn from the same flowers, and framed in green leaves.

  The same musicians who played during the ceremony, a guitarist and a cellist duo, have come inside, and continue to play during lunch. I have a clever app on my phone that recognizes music so I can buy it, but I don’t want to pull out my phone lest Gavin and Ellie think I’m taking pictures of them.

  They didn’t go so far as to confiscate phones at the door, although it was discussed—but they decided they trusted their friends and family not to tweet about their private moments.

  I’m not going to risk them questioning that when they’re having such a good time, so instead I get up and head over to the musicians. They have some business cards, and I pick one up.

  The cellist smiles at me. “We play weddings, corporate events, whatever you need.”

  “I live in Ottawa,” I explain. “But I love that song your partner is playing.”

  “That’s Beethoven’s Pathetique, the second movement.”

  I nod my thanks and make a mental note.

  Then I take a spin past the wedding cake, because I swear there is nothing in this world that smells better than ten pounds of buttercream icing spread out over three layers of sponge cake.

  It’s like breathing in sugar-laced air.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Hugh asks in my ear, and the sound of his low, rich voice takes the moment from sinfully enjoyable to delectable foreplay.

  “Doesn’t that icing smell amazing?” I ask quietly, keeping my gaze on the cake.

  “It does. We’ll have to smuggle a piece to the cabin tonight. Eat it off your body.”

  “You’d take turns?”

  “Hell no, we’ll lick it up at the same time, jockeying for position.” He moves around me, his arm brushing mine in a completely innocent way.

  The casual brush of his suit jacket against my bare arm makes me burn from the inside out.

  “Dancing will start soon,” I murmur.

  “It’s been on my mind since you twirled away from me this morning.”

  His radio crackles then, and he moves away with a regretful smile. Soon, though. Soon we’ll dance, and later we’ll claim each other again at a cabin in the woods.

  Gavin catches my eye as I head back to my table, and swing past where he’s standing to give him a hug.

  “Congratulations,” I say, meaning it so hard. He looks more youthful today than he has in the last three years that I’ve worked for him. For all the distractions and problems that wedding planning caused, I’m reminded that this day, marrying Ellie, is incredibly important to him, a
nd I’m so glad to have been a part of making it happen just the way he wanted it.

  I’d never have thought Gavin as needing this public spectacle—and it’s not public, because he and Ellie have gone out of their way to ensure there’s no unauthorized media coverage.

  But it’s a statement in front of the people who matter.

  He needed to do this in front of her parents, with all their traditional concerns. In front of his parents, more urbane, of course, but still worried about how their son wound up shacking up with an intern. To declare before all that Ellie was his other half, his love.

  As someone else comes up to speak with him, I turn back to look at Hugh, and see Lachlan just behind him.

  My heart catches at the raw expression on his face.

  Gah. Weddings are supposed to be happy occasions, but I get that for them, this might be weirdly bittersweet. And they need to stay locked down, too, because they’re working.

  When Lachlan notices me, he smiles, his gaze warming immediately. I return his smile, and he heads toward me, clapping Hugh on the shoulder as he passes.

  He reaches my side as Max taps a spoon against the side of his champagne flute to get everyone’s attention, so we stand next to each other as the best man gives his speech.

  Sasha’s next, with a brief maid of honour toast, and a totally heartfelt thank you for everyone that made the wedding special—Violet and myself for our help with the bridal shower, Ellie’s and Gavin’s parents for being lovely hosts the night before at the rehearsal dinner, and Tate for surprising the bride et al with breakfast this morning.

  “She makes that sound so sincere,” Lachlan says under his breath.

  “Right?” I glance sideways at him. “What do you think is going on there?”

  He snorts. “She’s not interested in him at all.”

  “But he is?”

  “Maybe.” We both look at the brawny hockey player at the same time. He’s leaning against the wall, his tie tugged loose, and he’s staring at Sasha. Lachlan grins. “More than maybe.”

  “Oh my.”

  “It’s none of our business,” he says.

  “Right.”

  A beat of hesitation, then he lowers his voice. “You’ll ask her about it and report back?”

  “Oh, heck yeah. She’s been totally nosy about you and me. I get to turn some of that around as soon as we get back to Ottawa.”

  “But don’t push. She’s prickly.”

  I shake my head. “Not really. She’s more misunderstood than anything, and besides, girl talk is different. Plus it doesn’t look like Tate minds a bit. Maybe he’s into the chase.”

  “They’ll sort it out.” He does a slow circle as he looks around the room. Ever vigilant. “Time to dance soon.”

  “That’s what I just said to Hugh.”

  “We’ll trade you back and forth all afternoon.”

  And all night. I shiver in anticipation. “I’m going to get a new glass of bubbly before the official first dance. I guess you can’t have any?”

  He shakes his head. “But I’ll come find you as soon as the dance floor opens up to everyone.”

  We share a quick smile, then I make my way to the bar, where the bartender is filling an entire tray of champagne flutes. I snag one, then find a good spot on the edge of the dance floor.

  A DJ has taken over from the classical musicians, and the speakers crackle as he begins to play Blue Rodeo, “Lost Together.”

  The bride and groom keep it simple, stepping and turning a bit, but just as often simply swaying in each other’s arms.

  For the next song, the DJ invites their parents to join them on the dance floor, but Gavin doesn’t switch off partners. He shakes hands briefly with her father, than sweeps Ellie back into his arms, and their parents dance coupled up. I’m not sure he’s going to let her go all night.

  The couple next to me move, and the gap they leave is quickly filled by a lumberjack who sat on the other side of the room from me during lunch.

  “Mr. Benton,” I say.

  “Ms. Evans.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “As much as anyone can in a suit.” He’s got a glass of something that looks like serious alcohol in his hand. “Would you like to dance?”

  I glance across the room and catch Lachlan’s eye. He was talking to someone, but he’s cut that conversation off now and is striding toward us.

  “My first dance is already spoken for,” I murmur. This is a bit reckless, really, but it’s not like people don’t wonder about us. And it’s just a dance.

  “Ah.” Jack takes a sip of his drink, unperturbed. “I’ll watch, then.”

  I laugh, and hold out my hand as Lachlan stops next to me. I brush my fingers against the back of his upper arm, just a glance, but it’s enough to ground me. “Lachlan Ross, you remember Jack Benton.”

  “I do indeed. Good to see you again, sir.”

  “I’ll be in Ottawa next week. Beth’s got me on the schedule to see your boss. Maybe you’ll join us for a drink.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well…” Jack nods. “Enjoy your dance with the lady.”

  And with that, he’s gone.

  Lachlan gestures to the dance floor as the DJ invites everyone to join the families. Gavin’s love of Canadian music is going to affect the playlist heavily tonight. Right now it’s Spirit of the West, “And If Venice is Sinking.”

  It’s an upbeat, sexy song, but Lachlan still pulls me into his arms, one hand firm in the small of my back, the other holding my fingers close to his chest as he spins me around. A thrill twirls inside me. Only at a wedding could we dance in front of everyone we know, and nobody clue in to how special this feels for us.

  Maybe not nobody. When the song ends, Lachlan hands me off to Hugh, whose gaze is bright.

  “Were you watching us dance?” I ask as he squeezes my hip.

  “I was. You two look good together.”

  “He can dance, eh? I wasn’t sure…”

  “Yeah.” Hugh dips his head, closing the space between us. His breath brushes my temple. “Our boy likes to move his hips.”

  “Did you used to go dancing?” I don’t want to be too curious about their relationship, because there’s still a lot of unresolved stuff there, but I can’t help it. I adore them both and want to know everything.

  “Not anywhere like a club. But he likes to listen to music when he’s cooking, and sometimes we’d dance in the kitchen.”

  “That’s adorable. I want to see you dance at the cabin.” He doesn’t say anything, and I turn my head just enough press against his jaw. “Please?”

  “Yeah.”

  I take a deep breath as he turns me around the dance floor, then I let my question spill out, fast and without overthinking it. “What else did you do? Back then, when you were together?”

  He laughs roughly. “Not much, really. We spent a lot of time in bed. There wasn’t that much to do, and we had a lot of chemistry.”

  I smile. “I bet.”

  Hugh strokes his hand up my back, and for a second I think he’s going to change the subject, but he surprises me by opening up—all the way open. “When I met Lachlan, he was dating someone. A woman. It was casual, and there wasn’t any chemistry really, but it was Moose Lake. It’s not like there were a ton of single twenty-somethings to choose from.

  “But he was off-limits, technically. And from the second I laid eyes on him, I wanted him. It was actually terrible.” Another laugh, this one dry. “Maybe that’s why we didn’t work out, because it started in a weird place.”

  “Oh.”

  “He didn’t cheat on her. They broke up a few weeks before we did anything. I don’t even think he…He didn’t get it then. He’d get it now, though. He’d understand. But back then, he didn’t, and that meant that we fought at first.”

  Hugh’s all tense, and I squeeze his shoulder. “He wouldn’t get what?”

  He shakes his head. “I dunno. How I felt, I guess.” />
  “Why do you think he’d get it now?”

  “Because how I felt about him ten years ago…that’s how he feels about you.”

  “Us.”

  He gives me a tight smile.

  “Hugh…”

  “Tonight,” he says. “At the cabin. We’ll dance and we’ll talk.”

  The Prime Minister Ties The Knot

  June 24, 2017 / Squamish, B.C.

  At eleven in the morning, Prime Minister Gavin Strong married Eleanor Montague, a PhD candidate at the University of Ottawa.

  The wedding was attended by friends and family, and took place at the Summit Lodge at the top of the Sea to Sky Gondola. The groom’s family has hiked in the area for generations and the location is said to have been chosen for sentimental reasons.

  No formal wedding photographs have been released, but the prime minister posted a single picture to his official social media accounts.

  The couple will honeymoon in an undisclosed location for a week. The prime minister and his new wife will return to Ottawa after the Canada Day weekend.

  35

  Lachlan

  The reception ends at five in the afternoon with a final toast to the bride and groom. Gavin and Ellie take the first gondola down, and from there, a fresh security detail will accompany them to their honeymoon on Tree Top Island, a private property in the Salish Sea owned by Gavin’s parents.

  As soon as the PM and his bride are gone, I dispatch Hugh to check himself out of the hotel and head up the highway and get us checked in to the cabin I’ve rented for our retreat from the world.

  Beth and I wait until everyone is gone, and the catering staff are almost done cleaning up, then we make our departure, too.

  We swing past the hotel to collect our bags and quietly check out a night early. We change out of our fancy clothes, too, since we can.

  The cabin is part of a low-key resort further up the highway toward Whistler that appealed to me because the cabins were rustic but also modern and comfortable, and one in particular was promised to be private, at the end of a gravel lane.

 

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