Rock Wedding

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Rock Wedding Page 8

by Nalini Singh


  We chose to be sisters, she'd said to Sarah last night.

  As Sarah watched, Charlotte hugged her best friend from behind, careful to keep her face turned so her makeup wouldn't get on the dress. "You look so beautiful, Molly."

  "I'm just... happy. Really happy, all the way to my toes." Molly looked around as she squeezed Charlotte's hands. "Having you all here..." Her breath hitched.

  "Hey, don't you get me going." Thea's voice rasped with emotion, the hug she shared with Molly a tight squeeze. No one who didn't know them would've guessed at their familial relationship; they were two such physically different women. But Thea and Molly, too, had chosen to be sisters after finding each other as adults.

  It wasn't the last hug of the afternoon. One by one, Kit and Sarah wrapped their arms around the woman who'd brought them all together.

  "Okay," Molly said afterward, the lace of her dress exquisite against her skin and her face aglow. "It's time for you to put on your dresses."

  CHAPTER 11

  SARAH, THEA, CHARLIE, and Kit dressed in a chaos of laughter and conversation.

  Sarah's turquoise-colored dress fit as perfectly as she remembered. Kit, meanwhile, had chosen a dress of deep amber, while Thea was in rich violet. All three of their dresses came to just above the knee. Charlotte, however, was in a flowing, ankle-length dress of bright raspberry, as befit her position as Molly's maid of honor. The rest of them would walk out ahead of her as part of Molly's bridal party--it was Molly who'd asked them to choose jewel tones for their dresses.

  "We look like a group of flowers " Sarah said when she glimpsed the entire group in the large standing mirrors placed against one wall.

  Molly clasped her hands together, her smile huge. "It's exactly how I imagined."

  Thea's camera clicked, capturing another image for Molly's wedding album.

  "I don't want a stranger capturing these moments," Molly had said the previous night when it came out that Thea would be taking the majority of the photographs, backed up by one of David's brothers who was an excellent amateur photographer. "I want it to be about friends and family and joy."

  Thea had brought along a tripod, making it easy to set up the camera and use the timer to take group shots. Once everyone was dressed and they had arranged things for the next part of their outfits, she set it up to take a series of shots, then joined the rest of them.

  The five of them stood side by side in front of the mirrors, Molly in the middle.

  "Everyone ready?" Molly asked.

  Nodding, they reached as one down to the hatboxes placed beside them, picked up their fascinators, and rose to their full height. Each headpiece was different, and each one suited the woman who'd chosen it. Sarah had never worn anything like this in her life, but she loved the pretty, frothy thing.

  "That's so lovely," she said to Charlotte after spying her jaunty little choice with its curling feather of peacock blue. "Here, let me put in the bobby pin you need at the back."

  "Thanks." Charlotte stood still as Sarah got the bobby pin in place without messing up Charlotte's updo. "I love yours. That black netting over your eye--you look like a femme fatale."

  "She's right," Kit said, angling her fascinator a little more to the right. Her piece had a dramatic, curved shape that curled over the side of her head, the color a vivid blood orange that somehow went perfectly with the amber of her dress.

  As striking was Thea's of deep pink, but the most beautiful was the bride's, as was only right. It was as if three-quarters of the front of Molly's hair was covered by tiny blooms. Anchoring the piece in her hair were feathers of purest cream, while the cream netting that came over her eyes was of a finer weave than Sarah's and went to her lips, a veil Fox would lift up during the ceremony.

  "Something old," Molly whispered, touching her fingers to her dress. "Something to build a history on."

  Thea placed her hand on one of the boxes that had held the lingerie. "Something new, to take into your new life."

  "Something borrowed." Charlotte fixed a necklace around Molly's neck; it came to the top of her breastbone in twin strands of white gold, then became a knotted waterfall that ended just above the V-neck of her dress. "Mom would've been so happy you were wearing her wedding necklace on your own wedding day. And I'll love wearing it on mine, knowing you both wore it before me."

  Wetness shone in both women's eyes.

  "Something blue," Kit said, passing over a bouquet of riotous color that included several glorious shades of blue.

  "And," Sarah added, "a silver sixpence in your shoe."

  "What?" That question came from four female voices at once.

  Sarah laughed. "It's the complete rhyme. I looked it up once." When she'd been about to be a bride herself. But today wasn't about her. It was about the generous woman who'd reached out to her in friendship. "I couldn't find a sixpence," she said, "but since it's meant to represent good luck and prosperity, I got you this little horseshoe charm I thought you could tuck in somewhere."

  "Oh, I love it." Molly took the tiny charm and, with a sinful smile, tucked it inside the top of her corset, to all their approving laughter.

  And then the other woman was ready, a bride who couldn't wait to meet her groom.

  ABE SMOOTHED HIS HANDS DOWN THE FRONT of his charcoal-gray suit jacket.

  Fox had chosen the same suit for himself and his groomsmen, all of them wearing white shirts with darker gray ties under their jackets. The only difference with Fox's suit was the flower thing in his pocket, which matched the bouquet Molly would be carrying. It had some fancy name that Abe couldn't remember at the moment.

  "We're looking damn good," he pronounced after turning from the mirror.

  The other men, including Gabriel Bishop, agreed with loud "Hell, yeahs."

  The ex-professional rugby player and current hard-nosed CEO had fit seamlessly into their group in the time he and Charlotte had been in the city. Abe liked the other man a heck of a lot, even after Gabriel taught them how to play rugby and showed that, retired from the sports field or not, he could still kick their asses.

  Gabe hadn't expected to be a groomsman, but with Molly's bridal party including four women, it would've left one woman without an escort had Fox only had his bandmates as groomsmen. However, what had started out as an offer made and accepted because of Molly and Charlotte's lifelong friendship had grown into a real friendship between all five of them.

  This afternoon, they were all at David and Thea's home. Fox had been banished from his place the previous night, Molly adamant he not see her before she walked down the aisle toward him. So, of course the five of them had to party--but they'd done it here rather than going out to a club or bar. Abe knew it was partly because of him; his friends didn't want to put him in a situation that might push him off the wagon and back into the hellhole of drugs and alcohol.

  The fact that Fox was effectively skipping his bachelor party because of Abe would've made Abe feel like shit if his friend hadn't made it a point to talk to him beforehand.

  "We've all partied before," the lead singer had said. "And we'll all party again, but I don't want to do some public deal the night before my wedding. I want to hang with my friends, play a little music, and stay close to Molly in case she forgets about her 'no seeing me before the wedding' rule and calls to arrange a hookup."

  Abe chuckled at the memory as he snapped a photo using his phone. Fox was doing up the final button on his suit jacket while David had just flipped up his shirt collar to slide on his tie--he and Gabriel were the only ones who could knot the things flawlessly, so they'd been press-ganged into helping everyone else.

  Noah stood not far from David. He was looking into a mirror while combing his hair, his scowl a thundercloud. "Now you know how much I love you, man," the guitarist muttered to Fox. "I only ever put on a suit and use a comb when it's a big premier or gala deal for Kit."

  "I hear the suit works well for you," Gabriel said from where he was perched on the edge of a table, long le
gs lazily stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

  Noah gave the other man the finger. It made Gabriel's shoulders shake. Yeah, the other man had fit right in, even to the point of ragging Noah about how designers had begged him--were still begging him--to do campaigns after he wore a tux to a black-tie charity gala he'd attended with Kit.

  Bumping fists with Gabriel, Abe said, "What do you think the women got up to last night?" He couldn't stop thinking about the fact he'd be seeing Sarah again, and soon. Fuck, he couldn't wait. He'd missed her.

  No more lies of omission, remember, Abe?

  His jaw tightened. Because the truth was that he'd missed Sarah since the day she walked out. However, that dull ache had become a raw need after the hours he'd spent with her three weeks earlier, the Band-Aid firmly ripped off the wound he'd told himself was healed over, forever scarred.

  "You think they got a stripper?"

  Gabriel's growl of a question had them all freezing before Fox grinned and shook his head. "Nah. Molly wanted to do a girly thing. No men invited."

  Five pairs of lungs expanded.

  Then David chuckled. "We are so nuts for our women," he said, clearly at peace with his adoration of Thea.

  And why not? Thea adored him right back, as Molly did Fox, Charlotte did Gabriel, and Kit did Noah. The latter two were still figuring out some stuff, but one thing was certain: they were a unit. #NoKat was not only a full-blown media phenomenon that showed no signs of fading, it was very real.

  In this room, only Abe didn't have any claim on or right to the woman he'd be escorting at the wedding. His stomach clenched, but he refused to believe he'd lost her forever. As long as Sarah still wanted him, he had a shot. If he could get her in bed, addict her to him, he'd have the time he needed to prove to her that he was no longer the man who'd hurt her so badly.

  There were no drugs in his system, no alcohol. Only healthy food and a boatload of determination. He'd also stopped picking up women. The guys didn't know, but until the explosive encounter in Sarah's kitchen, he hadn't been with a woman for months. Specifically since that night during their last tour when he'd shoved so much alcohol into his body that he'd almost ended up in a coma.

  After sobering up--and quietly getting help to stay sober--he'd consciously confronted an ugly truth: that he found no pleasure in the meaningless hookups that had filled his nights since his and Sarah's divorce. The sex had simply been another way to drown out the things he didn't want to think about, the things that haunted him: Tessie's death and Sarah's absence from his life.

  Hell, he was such a world-class bullshitter when it came to the most painful events in his life that he'd even managed to convince himself that he didn't love Sarah, had never loved her; he'd carried that belief like a talisman against the pain of losing the right to call her his wife... until the moment he laid eyes on her at Zenith.

  The second he'd heard her voice, met those dark eyes that had once looked at him with unhidden love, he'd been slapped in the face with harsh reality: that he'd tried to bury what he felt for her, bury who she was to him, because he couldn't deal with the unforgiving fact that he and he alone was responsible for the destruction of his marriage.

  Because Abe had only ever loved one woman: Sarah.

  He'd fought it, lied to himself, told his friends he was over her, but his love for Sarah was woven into every part of his fucking heart.

  "Hey." David nudged his shoulder, his eyes incisive. "You good?"

  David and Abe had been best friends since they were thirteen. The other man had always had Abe's back--even when Abe was an asshole. He'd earned the right to ask Abe that question, as had Noah and Fox. "Yeah, I'm good."

  "You sure?" David kept his voice low, their conversation sliding under the other men's discussion about a controversial call in a recent basketball game.

  Abe ran a hand over his shaved-smooth head. "Sarah," he admitted. "She'll be there."

  No surprise in David's expression. "I figured. You're still hung up on her."

  Abe didn't bother to deny it.

  "Look, Abe, I know all about being hung up on a woman." A deep grin. "But you and Sarah... Something toxic happened when you were together."

  "No." Abe sliced out a hand. "I've forced myself to be brutally honest this time around--only way my sobriety is going to stick." His sponsor was a hard-nosed vet who'd understood that just in time to save his own marriage and who'd held on to his sobriety for twenty-five years and counting. "It was me, David."

  No excuses, no bullshit.

  "I was fucked up and I took that out on everyone, Sarah most of all." His friends thought they knew what he'd been like during his worst days, but they had no idea how many times he'd hurt his tough, sweet wife with his words and his lack of care, until even her generous heart couldn't love him. "All Sarah did was try to love me."

  David nodded, his golden-brown eyes dark with the awareness that no one outside a marriage or relationship ever truly knew what went on inside it. "Whatever happens," he said, "I know you're going to stay sober this time around." No hesitation in his tone, nothing but absolute confidence. "You're different."

  "Yeah, I am." It was as if a switch had been thrown in his brain. He finally got it: he was in charge of whether or not he lived a life that made him happy. And he understood that any self-destructive choices he made had a profound impact on others: David and his other bandmates, his dad when Gregory Bellamy had been alive, his mom... Sarah.

  "Isn't it time to head over?" David's voice drew him back to the here and now. He glanced over to see that Noah had picked up an acoustic guitar.

  "No, we still have a half hour." Noah strummed aimlessly, still managing to create music. "Small session to settle Fox's nerves."

  "Fuck you." Fox's grin made it clear he wasn't nervous but impatient. "But why not? It'll be the last time I sing as a single man."

  The other man belted out three of their hits over the next twenty minutes, with Noah on guitar, David tapping out a rhythm using a pair of sticks he'd left nearby, and Abe on the keyboard he kept at David's place for the times they jammed here.

  Gabriel took over photographing duties for the duration, though when Fox called for him to join in on the chorus, he proved to have a voice that wasn't totally untrained. "Church choir," he admitted with a wince between songs. "My mum made all four of us join. At least until we turned thirteen."

  Abe, Fox, Noah, and David grinned before launching into another song--because the event that had sealed the friendship between the four of them had involved a choir tryout.

  As the session wound down, Fox looked even more pumped if that was possible. "I'm going to get married!" he yelled in his gritty voice.

  They all roared their approval before setting down their instruments to check one another's clothes. Then, once ties had been straightened and cuffs nicely aligned, Fox's boutonniere--that's what it was called--neatly in place, they walked out to get into two separate cars.

  Fox roared off first in his red Lamborghini, with Noah in the passenger seat. Abe followed in his grunty black SUV, David in back and Gabriel in the passenger seat. David would ride home with Thea after the wedding, Noah with Kit, while Gabriel's rental was already parked at Molly and Fox's.

  "You staying at a hotel tonight?" Abe asked, aware the visiting couple had been staying with the lead singer and Molly since the day Charlotte pulled off her plan to surprise Molly.

  Gabriel stretched out his legs in the passenger seat, at home in the big SUV that was the same size as his rental vehicle. Given that the ex-rugby player was Abe's size, a smaller car would've simply never worked.

  "No," the other man said. "We're spending the night at the house."

  Abe blinked while David was more vocal in his surprise. "I don't think Fox is into foursomes."

  Chuckling, Gabriel looked over his shoulder at the drummer. "Molly doesn't know, but Charlotte and I arranged for the newlyweds to spend a few days at a romantic mountain cabin. I checked with Fox before we di
d it--he's all for kidnapping his Miss Molly right after the reception."

  Abe's brain took note: there was a certain woman he'd love to kidnap for a sensual getaway.

  "I've got romantic plans of my own," Gabriel added with a scowl, "so don't hang around too long post-wedding."

  David snorted. "This is a rock wedding, Bishop. The party might end at dawn."

  Abe's hands tightened on the steering wheel; he couldn't wait to party the night away with Sarah. No way in hell was he letting some other man try to pick her up. Abe would be the only one doing any seducing, putting in motion his plan to win back his wife.

  He wasn't going to fuck up. Not this time.

  CHAPTER 12

  SARAH STOOD WITH CHARLOTTE, Kit, and Thea behind Molly, bubbles of happiness popping effervescently in her bloodstream.

  Facing Molly stood a handsome older man with light brown skin and salt-and-pepper hair: Vicente Rivera. David's father.

  From what Abe had told Sarah that day in her kitchen, Molly's own father had been a useless excuse for a man before his death, but she'd become very close to the Riveras in the time she'd been with Fox. No surprise when her sister, Thea, was marrying their oldest son. The publicist, too, adored her future in-laws.

  From the way Vicente pressed his lips to Molly's forehead, his big hands on her upper arms, the affection was deeply mutual. His golden-brown eyes glowed as he drew back. "With three strapping boys, I never thought I'd get to walk a daughter down the aisle." Wetness in those eyes, which he'd bequeathed to all his sons. "And what a beautiful daughter."

  Molly threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight as his own arms came around her, the black fabric of his suit jacket dark against the lace of Molly's gown. "Thank you," she whispered, emotion thick in her voice.

  "It is my honor." Vicente kissed her forehead again, then lowered her netting veil and held out his arm.

  Taking a shaky breath, Molly curved her fingers gently around his forearm. Vicente put his other hand over hers, squeezed.

 

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