Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss #4)

by Nalini Singh

  Sarah wanted to believe that so much, but she wasn’t hopeful. “Go on, call her.” Get the first shock over with.

  Frowning a little at her no doubt wary expression, Abe pulled out his phone.

  Sarah walked ahead a little so he could talk to Diane in privacy, Flossie bounding along the very edge of the water a couple of feet in front of her. After jumping back with a yelp at being splashed by a rogue wave, Sarah’s drenched and bedraggled dog padded back to Sarah with a highly offended look on her face.

  “Don’t you dare shake yourself off near me,” Sarah ordered.

  Since Flossie didn’t exactly look convinced by the laughing warning, her body held in position for a hard shake, Sarah bent down to pick up a piece of driftwood, threw it as hard as she could. “Go! Get the stick!”

  Flossie took off like a rocket just as Abe’s hand landed on her lower back, the warmth and strength of his big body a silent caress and his voice a familiar rumble as he asked, “When did you get Flossie?”

  “Not long after our divorce was final.” Sarah wanted to cuddle into him… but part of her remained skittish, afraid of giving him even more pieces of herself.

  Then Abe wrapped his arm around her and tugged her close. Her heart ached.

  Sarah was glad when Flossie returned with the stick in her mouth and Abe broke contact to wrestle it from her, throw it again. It felt too good to have him treat her as precious, as beloved. She couldn’t bear it.

  Yet when he cuddled her again, she couldn’t say no, couldn’t pull away. Because much as her feelings scared her, Abe was her greatest weakness, the only man who’d ever seared her to the soul.

  “You get her from the pound?” Abe held her close as they walked, just another couple taking a lazy Sunday walk with their playful pet.

  Eyes stinging, Sarah swallowed. “I found her on the side of the road,” she said, thankful her voice sounded normal. “She’d been hit by a car.” Sarah could still feel how Flossie’s broken body had trembled under her touch, her poor dog so scared and hurt.

  “I took her to the vet, stayed with her until she was sedated.” She hadn’t even thought of just dropping Flossie off and leaving her there alone. “Then, since she wasn’t wearing a collar and had no microchip, I went back to the residential street where I’d found her, knocked on doors—but nobody knew where she’d come from. I even made up flyers and distributed them in the area.”

  Like Sarah, Flossie had been lost and alone in this huge city. And like Sarah, she’d had so much love to give, her eyes lighting up every time Sarah went to visit her at the vet’s. “When no one claimed her…”

  Throat thick with the memories, Sarah reached down to pet a huffing Flossie just returned from her latest stick retrieval. “I took her home, and it was like she’d always been mine.” Another petting rub before Flossie abandoned the stick in favor of playing in the water again. “She was my strength after I lost Aaron, always there, nudging me out of my sadness and forcing me to get up, take her for walks, interact.”

  “What about Vance? Where the hell was he?”

  “He hadn’t really bonded with the baby,” Sarah said, thinking back to how quickly Jeremy had shrugged off the loss. “It was hard for him to understand my grief.”

  “Jesus Christ, Sarah, I can’t believe you’re defending that asswipe.” Abe’s voice was harsh.

  Sarah understood his response, hadn’t actually been defending Jeremy: she’d just been stating a fact about the other man, one that had exposed a lack in him she’d been unable to truly comprehend. However, like most people, Jeremy had more than one aspect to his nature, wasn’t just a one-dimensional villain.

  “He was kind to me after I left you.” She’d been so fragile, so fractured, her love for Abe a thousand pieces of shattered glass inside her, cutting and making her bleed with every breath. “Whatever his motives, he supported me at a time I needed it most.”

  Maybe he’d done it because, deep down, he’d seen her as vulnerable, a woman who’d be easy to control, but that didn’t alter the fact that it was Jeremy who’d made sure she ate, Jeremy whom she’d called when she needed a friend. “He helped me at a time when I had no one else.”

  CHAPTER 27

  SARAH COULD’VE STABBED Abe with a hunting knife and it would’ve hurt less. “You still in touch with him?”

  “No.” His wife’s glance was that of a furious valkyrie. “I can remember who Jeremy once was to me without forgetting who he became.”

  Muscles locked, Abe forced himself to confront another heartrending truth. “You came into your own with him,” he said. “You became a businesswoman, became confident and so fucking strong.” While with him… Hell, he’d sucked up all her energy—she’d spent it on trying to keep him alive. It had left her with nothing for herself.

  “No,” Sarah said at once. “It wasn’t Jeremy who encouraged me to become independent, go into business. I made that decision—I never again wanted to be in that position, lost and alone and reliant on a man’s money.”

  Spinning around to face him, she pointed a finger at his chest. “Sometimes I’d feel guilty that I was building my new life using your money as the foundation, but then I’d remember all the shit you put me through.” Her eyes sparked fire. “I earned that settlement after all the times I had to get rid of your drug stash, all the times I had to call the paramedics, all the horrific nights I spent alone wondering if I’d get a call from Noah or Fox or David to tell me that you’d been found dead with a needle stuck in your arm.”

  She was trembling, fury raging through her. “From the instant I got up each day to the instant I finally slept, I worried about you. And you kept on piling on the shit. The least you could do was help me get on my feet afterward!”

  God, she was so strong and angry and beautiful. And Abe wasn’t about to argue with her. “I never cared about the money,” he said with a shrug. “Fighting you in court was never about the settlement.” He’d been so furiously hurt that she’d left him that he’d become a Grade A asshole.

  “I know.” Sarah’s anger was still dark fire in her eyes, but she slid her arm around his waist, ran her hand over his back. “You were always ridiculously generous with me.” An unexpected laugh. “Remember when you gave me a credit card the first time?”

  Abe rubbed one hand over his head, decided to just admit the truth. “Um, no?” He shrugged. “I just told the accountants to set up accounts for you, then passed on the cards.”

  “Of course you did.” She rolled her eyes, but a little smile tugged at her lips. “When I got the first card, I was so happy that you cared enough to make sure I had a little spending money—then I realized my card had a six-figure limit and almost had a heart attack right there in the handbag store.”

  Abe grinned. “Because, of course, the first thing you thought to buy was another handbag.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Shoulders shaking, she elbowed him. “I only figured it out because when I went to pay, the shop assistant’s eyes bugged out. She said she’d never seen a black card in real life. I had no idea what that meant, so I did an online search.” A shake of her head. “Forget about the cheerful pink, fifty-dollar handbag I wanted, I could’ve bought the entire store with that card!”

  Chuckling at her still-scandalized response, Abe kissed her temple. “I’ll get you one for your next birthday.”

  Her laughter undid the knots around his heart, gave him hope that the past didn’t have to define their future.

  AT FOUR THE NEXT DAY, ABE picked up his mom from the cruise ship terminal in San Pedro. He hadn’t told Sarah that he was actually seeing his mom well before dinner, but that was only so he could make sure his mom didn’t inadvertently hurt Sarah. He knew she’d never do it on purpose—Diane Bellamy just wasn’t that kind of a mean-hearted person.

  And his love for his mom was why he’d told her he was bringing a guest without identifying that guest as Sarah—that wasn’t a bombshell he’d wanted to drop on her over the phone. Now she bustled
around his kitchen making tea. He’d have tried making it for her except that, according to his mom, he could make the finest tea taste like dishwater.

  Hey, at least he’d dropped by a bakery and bought her favorite cake.

  “How are Fox and Molly?” she asked. “I was so sad to miss their wedding.”

  “They understood.” His mom had been getting over a stomach bug at the time, hadn’t been well enough to attend. “They loved the gift you sent.”

  A beaming smile. “Oh, good. I donated to the charity like they asked, but I always like to give newlyweds a little something beautiful, too.”

  Taking a seat at the counter, he watched her small form move about with vibrant energy as she told him about the cruise and her best friend and the games they played onboard. “This particular ship is full of people my age,” she said. “You’d be bored out of your skull, but I like the time out from the stresses of work. And sometimes I get to dance.” A faraway smile. “No one dances like your daddy though.”

  Mind filling with the last time he’d seen his parents dance—at a cousin’s wedding about two months before Gregory Bellamy’s death—Abe smiled. “You two were pretty smooth together.”

  His mother winked. “You get your rhythm from Gregory, but you get your style from me. He once rocked the most hideous orange-and-paisley bell-bottoms—not that he ever admitted it, not until I found photographic evidence in an old yearbook.”

  Delighted at the thought that his quietly stylish father had once succumbed to the lure of orange bell-bottoms, Abe accepted the cup of tea his mom handed him, grabbed the cake plate, and took it all out to the wooden outdoor table by the pool. His mom followed and the two of them sat in simple quiet for a while, the sun sparkling on the blue water, before Abe took a breath, laid one arm on the table, and opened his mouth to speak.

  But the woman who’d given birth to him beat Abe to it.

  “You look good.” A gentle hand touching his cheek. “Better than I’ve seen you look since before we lost Tessie. I feel like I have my boy back.” Her voice broke.

  “Shit, Mom, don’t cry.”

  “Abraham Joshua Bellamy”—his mom sniffed—“don’t you use that language around me, or I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”

  Groaning, Abe got up and went to kneel by her chair. “Why are you crying then?” He reached up to wipe away her tears. “Stop it.”

  She continued to cry while patting at his shoulders with hands that had eased a hundred childhood injuries. Tiny and full of energy, his mom had always been a powerhouse career woman, but she’d never let that get in the way of being his mom. Unlike Noah, who also came from wealth, Abe had never had a nanny, never felt as if he didn’t have enough time with his mom.

  Abe didn’t know how she’d done it.

  “Here.” Digging in the handbag she’d brought out because her phone was in it and she’d wanted to show him some photos from the cruise, he pulled out a lacey handkerchief he’d known would be in there, thrust it at her. “If you don’t stop crying, I won’t give you any cake.”

  Rising when she continued to cry, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Mom.”

  Her smile was sunshine through her tears. “My beautiful Abe, so big and gentle.” It took a couple more minutes, but she finally dabbed away the remnants of her tears.

  Abe refreshed her tea, then pushed a slice of cake toward her before taking his seat. He hated it when his mom cried—it reminded him too much of her shattered state after Tessie’s death. Abe, his mom, his dad, they’d all broken. Tessie had been the baby, meant to outlive them all—it had been impossible to believe she was gone, impossible to accept it.

  “You’re sober,” his mom said after a sip of her tea, and it wasn’t a question.

  “As a judge.” It was an ironic comment given how many judges there’d been in the extended Bellamy family line. “I promise you I won’t ever again fall back down that rabbit hole,” he said, his gaze locked to the paler brown of her own. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  “I believe you.” Sunshine dawning on his mom’s face, a sudden piercing lightness to her. “There’s a resolve in you I’ve never seen before.” She drank more of her tea, expression turning thoughtful. “You know, the last time I saw that look in your eyes, you were about to marry Sarah.”

  Abe almost dropped his tea. “What?”

  “In the vestibule before we went in, I asked you if she was a woman you’d run away with.” Twin lines between her eyebrows, she leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “I never should’ve asked that, never should’ve interfered.”

  Abe’s abdomen grew tight at the reminder of the time he’d wasted, the love he’d neglected until it had curled up and perhaps died forever. It fucking hurt to think that, to even consider that Sarah would never again look at him as she had then. “I didn’t take it that way. To be honest, I was barely listening.” His mind had been on the tall, beautiful, fascinating woman he was about to marry.

  His mother smiled at his confession. “You never answered me that day,” she said after eating a little cake. “All I got from you was that you had no time to chat, that you had to be waiting at the groom’s spot or Sarah might change her mind.”

  A pause, Diane Bellamy’s eyes looking into the past rather than at Abe. “Yet all the time before that, you’d been so cavalier about your wedding, about Sarah. Until I thought she was an opportunistic groupie taking advantage of the grief that held you prisoner.”

  His mother’s voice softened as it always did when she spoke of Tessie, but the echo of her own grief was overlaid with endless love. “I was so sure… and then I saw her walk into the hotel ballroom.” Diane Bellamy shook her head. “She didn’t look around at the expensive decor or check out the famous guests. She looked only for you, and the smile that lit up her face when she saw you waiting for her, I’ll never forget it.”

  His mom sniffed again, her voice breaking a little as she said, “And I knew that girl loved my boy. So much.”

  Abe thought of the pearl necklace Sarah still cherished; he’d seen how carefully she stored it in its box, how she always kept it separate from her other jewelry. His mother hadn’t given her the gift before the wedding but after—when she’d taken it off her own neck to put it around Sarah’s.

  Abe had never realized the significance of that until this instant, and it gave him hope his mother would accept what he was about to tell her. “I’m seeing Sarah again,” he said, knowing there really was no way to build up to it.

  Putting down her teacup with a rattle, his mom stared at him before taking a deep breath. “I can’t say I’m surprised. What you and Sarah had, it was special.” A frown, her next words not what he would’ve expected. “You hurt that girl, Abe. I love you, will always love you, but I saw her light dim day by day in the time she was with you.”

  Abe flinched. “I’m not that guy anymore.” A self-protective asshole pushing away the best thing in his life out of fear that she’d die on him too, leave him in the most final way. “She’s pregnant. The baby’s mine. Ours.”

  Diane Bellamy had reached for her teacup again, was just picking it up when he spoke. The cup dropped to the gritty stone below their feet with a crash, shattered. Ignoring it, his mother asked, “How far?”

  “Not far. But Sarah keeps doing that thing with her hand”—he demonstrated the protective action that caught him in the heart each and every fucking time—“so some paparazzo’s going to catch it soon. I wanted you to know before that.” And he’d wanted to tell her before he picked up Sarah for dinner, so that if her reaction was negative, he could shield Sarah from it.

  Drawing herself up, his mother frowned at him. “I want to see her.” It was a demand. “She never came to me after you two blew up because I kept my distance in an effort to give you both your privacy. I didn’t want to be an interfering mother-in-law.”

  Grabbing his mostly untouched tea, she drank it down, then put the teacup back in its saucer. “This
time around,” she said, her tone brooking no argument, “I want her to know she can count on me. Even if it’s my son she’s angry at.”

  Getting up, Abe lifted his mom off her feet, squeezed her into a bear hug.

  “Abraham,” she said. “Put me down at once!”

  Abe held her for a minute longer. “Thank you,” he said afterward, his voice hoarse. “Sarah needs a mom on her side.” And his mom was the best advocate anyone could ever have.

  CHAPTER 28

  SARAH WAS STILL SITTING around in sweatpants and a T-shirt even though Abe was supposed to pick her up in less than an hour. She’d woken early to take care of work matters so she’d have plenty of time to prepare, yet here she was. At least she’d showered and brushed her hair. She hadn’t done anything else however, and now she was rapidly running out of time to dry and straighten it. But her guts were twisted into a panic.

  Abe’s mom was going to hate her for coming back into his life.

  She swallowed, put a trembling hand to her forehead, dropped it a second later. “You can deal with this, Sarah.”

  Only she wasn’t sure she could: it wasn’t just about Abe and their baby, it was about how much Sarah respected Diane Bellamy. To be rejected by her…

  Buzz.

  Sarah jerked at the sound of the gate buzzer and, jumping to her feet, ran to the window that overlooked the front of the house. Abe’s black SUV stood at the gate. Groaning, she found her keys and used the remote to open the gate for him before padding downstairs and opening the door to step out onto the stoop. Flossie zipped out in joyous, tail-wagging welcome.

  “You’re early!” she called out to him as he opened his door. “I’m not ready.”

  He threw her a gorgeous grin, gave Flossie a quick pat. “You look perfect.” Then he ran around to open the passenger door.

  Sarah froze.

  This was not how she’d planned to meet Abe’s mom for the first time since the divorce, with her hair barely brushed and wearing an old white tee over gray sweatpants that had a hole in one knee. She never wore them except when doing things like cleaning the garage or weeding.