by Cassie Cross
It was a breezy, sunny day; warm enough to be pleasant, but not too hot. On the porch, Cole’s mother, Olivia, and his father, Jack, were standing side-by-side, hands clasped together, looking like they just stepped out of a magazine. Cole’s looks were all Jack; rugged handsomeness coupled with to-die-for bone structure. His eyes were Olivia’s, clear and kind. Abby waved timidly from the passenger seat as the car came to a stop. Olivia made her so, so nervous.
Abby liked Olivia, and she knew that Olivia liked her. It probably didn’t hurt that Abby was constantly plying Olivia with chocolate, making Olivia a hit at her bridge club, her book club, and her Junior League meetings. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Cole’s feelings hinged on Olivia’s like or dislike of her, but she wanted their relationship to be easy and drama-free, and she never wanted to come between Cole and his mother.
Cole walked around to Abby’s side of the car and opened the door for her. As he took her hand, she looked up into his eyes and when he smiled at her, all the nerves just melted away into nothing.
“How do they always know when we get here?” Abby asked quietly as she stood, smoothing out her skirt. “They’re always standing on the front porch waiting, like a Norman Rockwell painting or something.”
Cole grinned and slid his hand down her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Parental radar,” he teased.
Olivia gracefully walked down the porch steps, Jack following in her wake.
“Abby,” she said warmly as she reached out and clasped Abby’s hands in hers and leaned in to kiss her cheek. Once Olivia let go and focused her attention on her son, Abby gave Jack a quick hug. Abby thought it was strange the way the Kerrigans showed affection, like it was some kind of a chore. It was the direct opposite of the kind of relationship she remembered having with her mother. Luckily neither one of them passed that trait on to their son.
“Welcome,” Jack said, in his always friendly but distant way. Jack Kerrigan was nice enough, but there seemed to be a wall built up between him and the outside world. The only person he really seemed to be at all affectionate with was his wife, and that was limited to rare hand holding, or the occasional hand on the small of her back. Even his granddaughter couldn’t draw out much warmth from him. It was such a strange contrast, seeing the home life Cole had grown up in compared to the man he was today, practically radiating love for her in every look and every touch and he wasn’t ever afraid to show it, even when he probably shouldn’t.
Cole opened the trunk and started to pull out Abby’s suitcase, when his father waved a dismissive hand. “Let Paul get that Cole,” he said. “That’s what we pay him for.” Jack motioned toward the butler standing stiffly a few feet away from the car.
Cole hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside. Abby didn’t like the grim set of Cole’s lips, so she slid her hand down the inside of his arm, then twined her fingers with his. He always went to great lengths to not exactly hide his privilege, since that would be quite a feat, but to downplay it. He didn’t have any servants, and he and Abby only had a housekeeper come once a week because they were both simply too busy to take the time to dust.
Olivia sighed and stepped forward. “Cole, you’re staying in your old room. Abby, you’ll be in the guest room a few doors down.”
“Thank you,” Abby replied.
Cole shot Abby a look, something that was a mixture of both amusement and disappointment, which made her smile. She’d known that Olivia was going to have them staying in separate rooms, and she was okay with that. Even if they weren’t having a wedding in the traditional sense, Abby knew her future mother-in-law well enough to realize that she’d want to stick to some traditions. The bride and groom not seeing each other on the day of the wedding seemed to be the easiest one to adhere to in their situation.
After a bit of an awkward silence, Cole looked around the driveway before turning to his mother. “Are Scott and Sara here?”
Olivia nodded, offering her son a smile. “They’re down on the beach with Alexandra.”
A warm rush flooded through Abby as she watched Cole’s lip quirk up at the mention of his niece. He’d always been very attentive to her, but now that she was walking and her little personality was starting to shine through, he wanted to be around her every chance that he got.
Abby turned her head and looked far down the beach, where the surf was breaking against the sand. She could see her future brother and sister-in-law on the horizon, a squirming Alexandra wearing a cute little hat, wrapped in Sara’s arms.
Remembering the gift she was holding, Abby grinned at Olivia and placed the bag in Olivia’s outstretched hands. “I brought these for you,” Abby said.
Olivia smiled indulgently, knowing exactly what was inside. “Horrible for my hips, but so delicious. Thank you, dear.”
Abby nodded. “I put a few extra peanut clusters that Cordelia likes in there. Hopefully you can sneak a glance or two at her cards while she’s picking at them the next time you play bridge.”
Olivia tossed her head back in a full-throated laugh that made Abby feel oddly proud, like she was one of the family already.
“Come.” Olivia took Abby’s hand and led her into the house, while Cole and his father trailed behind them. “Let me show you what we’ve done.” She led Abby through the open, bright, sunlit rooms that looked like they came straight out of an interior design catalog. Cole had told her once that their home had been used in a few publications, and every time Abby walked through this place, she was reminded of just how much wealth and prestige surrounded her. Sometimes it felt like a horrible burden, like a noose around her neck. Today was not one of those days.
Pushing through a grand set of French doors that led onto the back deck, Abby stepped out onto the wooden planks and took in the wedding decorations. There were a few white chairs with pink ribbons tied to the back, all in a neat row, positioned in front a white lattice altar that was covered with delicate pink flowers. The same flowers were strewn along the patio, long chains of stems and petals winding along the railing.
There wasn’t a bride’s side or a groom’s side, there were just enough chairs to seat the people they loved most in this world, which is exactly what Abby wanted for her wedding. It had taken awhile to get Olivia on board with the idea, but once she had, she ran with it. It was going to be a small ceremony followed by an unfussy dinner of Cole and Abby’s favorite things. Small, intimate, perfect.
“It’s beautiful,” Abby said, running her fingertips along the back of one of the chairs. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She turned to Cole, who wasn’t even looking at his mother’s handiwork. His eyes were focused solely on her, filled with so much love and want that she felt like she might burst.
“It is beautiful,” he replied, reaching out and running the backs of his fingers along her cheek. She grinned at him shyly, some part of her still unbelieving that this wonderful, seemingly unattainable man could be so in love with her. This was her life. So often it seemed too good to be true.
Reluctantly, Abby turned back toward Olivia. “I know you weren’t really thrilled about the idea of us getting married like this, in such small ceremony. But this is…gorgeous. It’s everything I wanted.”
“Look,” Olivia said as she took one of Abby’s hands and led her over to sit in one of the chairs. “I won’t pretend that I wasn’t a bit surprised. Society weddings are almost expected around here, and that’s the kind of thing that we’re used to. But I understand, Abby. That kind of thing, it’s not you. Truth be told, I like that about you. You love my son, and that’s the most important thing. I wanted to see him get married to a wonderful woman; the manner in which he marries her doesn’t concern me as much as what happens after that, do you understand? If there’s anything that I’ve learned living the life that I do, it’s that a wedding is just a day, a marriage is forever.”
Abby blinked away the tears she felt stinging her eyes. “I didn’t want to cause a rift between you and anyone who might be offended becaus
e they weren’t invited.”
Olivia waved her hand dismissively. “We have a gathering with the family in August. They’ll all be here, and they’ll be lovely. They’ll offer you their best wishes without animosity. And if they don’t, then you’ll let me know.”
Abby nodded, understanding. “Thank you,” she replied, finally feeling at ease.
ABBY AND Olivia sat on the patio, looking out at the ocean, talking about how Abby’s business was thriving, and how Olivia had been asked to sit on the board of a local non-profit. Abby always enjoyed these talks with Cole’s mother; even though she lacked the kind of warmth that most mothers had toward their children, there was absolutely no doubt in Abby’s mind that the woman cared about her. There wasn’t anyone in the world who could fill the hole that Abby’s mother had left in her heart when she died, but on days like today, Olivia wasn’t a bad stand-in.
Abby wasn’t sure how long the two of them had been sitting out there—just enjoying the breeze and each other’s company—before Cole pushed open the patio door.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, smiling. He always had this soft expression on his face whenever he saw Abby speaking with his mother; something about it warmed Abby’s heart. “Becca’s here.”
Abby felt positively giddy at the sound of Becca’s name; she hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever. Abby looked at Olivia eagerly, silently asking the woman for permission to take her leave.
Olivia just smiled and said, “Go.”
Abby stood and walked toward Cole, sliding her fingers down his arm as she walked past him. He grabbed her hand just as her fingers were slipping away, and pulled her to him. He slid his fingers through her hair, gently cradling her head in his hand, then he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Tomorrow,” he whispered as he dropped his forehead to hers.
Abby offered him a love-struck grin, but she didn’t even have the heart to be embarrassed about it, because he was looking at her the same way.
“She’s in the foyer,” Cole said as Abby made her way back into the house. She turned and smiled at him as he walked over and sat down in the chair right next to his mother.
Abby practically ran to the front of the house, and had to laugh when she saw Becca standing in the front hall, staring up at the ceiling like she was in the Sistine Chapel. When Becca saw her, she let out a high-pitched squeal, and the two of them giggled like giddy schoolgirls.
“It’s such a pity I only get to stay here for one night,” Becca said, taking in the lush decor of the beach house. “Can’t you and Cole get married on Sunday? Just push it back a day, no one will ever know.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Abby said, kind of breathless.
Becca playfully rolled her eyes at her friend, then took her hand. “Are you going to show me to my room or what?”
“Yeah, come on.” Abby was familiar enough with the house to know exactly where Becca’s room was. Up the stairs, down the hallway, third door on the right. When they entered the room, she heard Becca’s sharp intake of breath. Everything in there was so bright and warm from the sun shining through the french doors that led out onto a private little balcony. The room was decorated in beachy greens and yellows, and much like the rest of the house (or the rest of the Kerrigan’s real estate holdings, Abby admitted), it looked like something out of a catalog. One of the housekeepers had even laid a couple of mints on Becca’s pillow.
Becca let her bag drop to the floor and she plopped on the bed, her legs flipping up in the air as Abby laughed. She rolled over onto her stomach and brushed a few curls off of her forehead as she propped her head up in her hands and grinned at Abby. “I’m going to love you being rich. I mean, I love you, rich or not. But I’m going to love the part where you’re rich, because I get to stay in places like this for free.”
Abby sat down next to her, smoothing down her skirt. “I’m not rich though. Cole is.”
Becca flung her legs over the side of the bed and gave Abby the side-eye. It was an expression that Abby had grown to love the longer she knew her friend. It was Becca’s way of letting you know she thought you were being ridiculous without subjecting you to some harsh words of tough love, as she liked to call it.
“You know once you say ‘I do’ tomorrow, he’s going to pretty much sign everything away to you, right? That man is so deep in love he doesn’t even realize how deep he is.”
Abby had to laugh. Becca always had a way of making even the most serious subjects lighthearted. “You realize that even if he wanted to do something that stupid there would be a team of lawyers about a mile long just waiting to stop him, right? Besides, I don’t even want it, I just-”
“If you say you just want to be married to him, I might vomit all over this designer toile,” Becca said, the affection in her voice completely voiding the threat she just made. “So, who else is coming?”
“Just Cole’s friend Tristan.”
“Tristan Blackwell?” Becca said, sounding surprised even though Abby knew that she knew he was coming.
“Yes, that’s the one.” Abby had been trying to get the two of them in a room for the past few months, but Becca always avoided it. Given Becca’s love of the tabloids, she had to be familiar with Cole’s best friend. In fact, Abby was pretty sure his reputation was what was keeping Becca from wanting to meet him in the first place. Becca sighed, running a hand through her hair. “The Tristan Blackwell you keep trying to set me up with? Tristan Blackwell who has three girls on his arm on a bad night? That Tristan Blackwell?”
“I’m not trying to set you up with him. I just thought you’d like him. Platonically. You’d be good for him, I think.”
“Riiiiiight,” Becca said with a huff. “You just happened to think I’d be good for him right after I broke up with Roger.”
Abby cringed at the bitterness in Becca’s voice. Smiling, she mimicked the sign of the cross. “Don’t say that name in here,” she teased. “Anyway, Tristan is a person I think you’ll like independently of the R-word.”
“I’ve seen him in the tabs, Abby. That’s doubtful. He seems like a shit.”
“You’ve met Cole,” Abby reminded her. “And he’s pretty much the exact opposite of the kind of person the tabloids painted him as, isn’t he? I mean, we’re getting married tomorrow, who would’ve ever thought that would happen? Besides, Tristan’s your type.”
“Tall, blonde and built like a god is pretty much everyone’s type, Abby. Don’t try to pull that on me.”
“He’s just a little lost. He could use someone like you in his life.”
“Someone like me?” Becca replied, her left brow lifting in a skeptical arch.
Abby shrugged. “The kind of person who delivers the things you need to hear in a way that doesn’t make it hurt so badly to hear it. I’m probably biased, but I think everyone could use someone like you. Or you, you know…whichever.”
Becca’s expression softened, and she let out a little sigh as she lightly bumped Abby’s shoulder. “Just get married to your perfect man and leave the matchmaking out of it, okay?”
Abby nodded reluctantly, but decided to save her argument for another day. Maybe once Becca met Tristan she wouldn’t have anything left to argue. “Okay.”
“Promise?” Becca asked.
“I promise.”
CHAPTER FOUR
COLE WAS willing to admit that when Abby told him that she wanted a small wedding, he hadn’t realized exactly how small she was talking. Not that he ever thought about his wedding all that much before he met her, but when and if the thought had ever crossed his mind, he assumed it would be held in the ballroom of some grand hotel, or at his parents’ estate in New York. It would be announced in the New York Times and would be the kind of boring affair that he had attended countless times throughout his privileged existence.
Before he met Abby, Cole used to think that the idea of marriage just didn’t appeal to him, and to some extent that might’ve been true; but the more he thought about it the more he rea
lized that the promise of a big, public wedding was not something he’d looked forward to either. It wasn’t until he was sitting on the deck of the pool behind the beach house with his brother Scott, his father, and his best friend that he realized that the small, private gathering Abby wanted was exactly what he wanted, too.
All four of them had beers in hand while the setting sun burned the sky a deep, rich orange, and the smell of charcoal from the grill wafted through the air. Scott held the grill tongs in his left hand, squeezing them together in strange intervals, like he was tapping out some kind of code.
Tristan was looking out at the surf, wearing that ever-present shit-eating grin of his. Cole and Tristan had met early in life, in the way that the children of most rich people meet: at prep school. They’d become fast friends, and Tristan had been a fixture in Cole’s life ever since. They’d been in their fair share of tabloids together, cementing both of their playboy images. It wasn’t something Cole was very proud of at this point in his life, but he wanted Tristan with him as he made the commitment that would take him to the next stage in his life, and part of him hoped—however futile that hope was—that Tristan would soon follow.
“You know,” Scott said between sharp, metallic plinks, “I never did understand the point of having a pool when you’re literally fifty feet from the ocean.”
Tristan took a pull from his beer, then set it down on the arm of his chair. “There are some things you just can’t do in salt water, my friend.”
Cole grinned as his father rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re not allowed in my pool again.”
They all laughed in unison as Cole leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Aren’t you all supposed to be giving me marriage advice, not arguing the finer points of saltwater vs. Chlorine?” Even though Cole wasn’t sure he wanted marriage advice from his emotionally distant father, his marriage had lasted for over thirty years, so Cole figured his father had to be doing something right. Cole knew that some of Olivia and Jack’s friends were on their third, fourth, fifth marriages. There had to be a reason his parents were still going strong after all this time.