Naturally, they couldn't miss the Sunday brunch after the proposal. Mark's parents were delighted at the news, and his mom Sara was especially ecstatic.
"I'd quite despair of either of my sons marrying," Sara was saying as she led Lynne over to the ballroom, ostensibly to see what further things needed to be done to make it presentable on the big day. "They're quite the womanizers, I know."
Lynne choked back a laugh. Sara didn't have on rose-colored glasses where her sons were concerned, and unlike most mothers, she was modern in her thinking. Though perhaps she didn't know that her sons shared their women, which may send her into a faint if she did. But she would never have cause to, since it was a thing of the past now, Lynne thought with a happy glow.
"So when Mark started bringing you over for brunch, I hoped, you know?" Sara stopped and drew her into a hug. "Welcome to the family, dear."
Sara was one of those genuine people who mean what they say, and as they embraced, Lynne felt real lucky to be blessed with a mother-in-law who wouldn't be the monsters some of her colleagues were describing when telling tales about their own experiences with their husbands' mothers.
"When can I start expecting grandchildren?" Sara asked the moment they broke apart.
Lynne choked on her own saliva. This part of the tale seemed familiar--the too-oft refrain of her colleagues' parents.
Sara patted her hand. "I don't want to rush you, but I thought you should know that I'm not getting any younger." Her eyes twinkled. "I want to hold my grandchildren before they lower me into the ground."
"Pshaw! You're as young as the day I met you." Lynne neatly sidestepped the question and led the conversation from there to other topics.
Sara may be getting her wish sooner than she thought. Not that Lynne could tell her since she hadn't broken the news to Mark yet. Though she knew she should tell Mark soon, over the next two weeks, she found herself crippled by fear or hampered by the busyness and resulting fatigue that comes with juggling work, home life and preparations for the engagement party. Not to mention her volunteer work at Hope After Foster, the charity that helped foster kids who'd aged out of the system with a plan for their future.
All too soon, the night of the party arrived. The ballroom sparkled under the blazing chandeliers and it was alive with music, laughter and conversation. Guests milled around the buffet table or in groups as they chatted and mingled. In deference to the fetus she was carrying, Lynne had opted for one-inch heels over her usual four-inch stilettos. Despite that, her feet were killing her for standing for two straight hours now as she greeted guests with Mark beside her, and a smile was permanently pasted on her face. A smile that turned more genuine at the next guest who came in through the door.
"Mace!"
The cousin of her husband-to-be, Mason Thompson was a tall and large man, and he should be imposing and intimidating, yet something about him made a person feel at ease, some charm that had a person chatting away his life secrets within minutes. Mark had invited him and his lover Jake over for dinner once, and by the end of the evening, she was fast friends with both men.
Now, he stooped down to kiss her cheek. "Congratulations, gorgeous." He winked. "I should've snapped you up when I had the chance."
"Without Jake's agreement?" Mark snorted as they shook hands. "He'd gut you."
"Oh, Jake's quite taken with Lynne, as you well know. He held back only because he was afraid you'd gut him."
Lynne sent Mason a sly look and leaned close to whisper, "We could have a foursome one day--"
Mark whipped a hand around her waist and pulled her to his side. "Not on your life. Your days of ménages are over."
She giggled, pleased at having ruffled her too-serious lover, and placed a possessive hand on his chest. "Just teasing you, my darling. You know I don't want any man but you."
"Make sure it stays that way," he warned, but without any heat.
She just smiled and turned to their guest. "Where's Jake?"
"Busy. They recently contracted a big project and he started designing the beach houses early this afternoon." Mason smiled wryly. "I reminded him not to be late, but you know how he is when his creativity fires up."
"Artists." Mark shook his head.
"I'll give him a call in ten minutes if he's not here yet."
Lynne placed a hand on Mason's arm and squeezed. "Don't worry about it. We don't have a timetable, and it's supposed to be a party, dude. Go, mingle, have fun. Who knows?" It was her turn to send him a wink. "You might meet the woman of your dreams here."
Mark stared at her as his cousin walked over to greet a group of relatives. "I didn't know they were looking for a third or a woman."
"It's called women's intuition, darling."
Which fired up once again half an hour later when the next guest swanned in.
"Elise!" Lynne greeted her colleague with a hug. The other woman wore a one-shoulder shimmering satin blue evening gown. "You look beautiful, dear."
"Thanks, boss, but you should be the one receiving compliments. You're ravishing in that gown and"--Elise sent an impish glance Mark's way--"I hope he has told you about a thousand times by now."
"He has. One over," Lynne assured her.
"Which she's repaying me later in sexual favors," Mark chimed in with a straight face.
"Mark!"
Elise rolled her eyes and laughed. "I so didn't need to hear that. Now it'll pop up during the most inopportune times--like at work or during meetings."
"Speaking of, I just realized you were in cahoots with Mark to keep me in the office that evening," Lynne said. "I've been deciding whether to reward you or punish you for confusing me so much that night, but in the end, I decided you deserve a gift, because it was the most romantic proposal I've received--"
"Did you receive a lot?" Mark interrupted, curiosity in his voice.
"The only one, in fact," Lynne admitted, "but it sounds better that way." She laughed when, this time, both Mark and Elise rolled their eyes. "As I was saying, you deserve a gift, dear. So, what would you like? As long as it's within my power to give--nothing about the office, mind--you shall have it."
"Lynne, there's no need," Elise protested, shaking her head. "I was happy to help."
"I don't mean for you to tell me now. Take some time to think about it," Lynne urged, then nudged her in the direction of their other colleagues. "In the meantime, have fun. Parker and the rest of the gang are over there."
Five minutes later, Mark led her to one of the reserved tables.
"About time," Lynne said, groaning. "My feet are about to fall off." Her stomach made a loud noise and she smiled sheepishly at Mark. Your son's hungry.
Mark laughed. "I'll get us some food." He came back soon after with two platters heaped high with food and a waiter trailing behind with a tray that contained a plate of raw oysters, condiments and wine. Oops.
"I'd like orange juice, please." In response to Mark's incredulous look, she replied, "I want to have a clear head for the rest of the party; I don't want to miss a thing. I'm only getting engaged once, you know."
He smiled indulgently and gave instructions to the waiter, who scurried off and returned with her request.
Now, how to get out of eating raw oysters, which was her favorite? She couldn't even look at them now, because the sight was enough to make her nauseous.
She didn't think she'd ever have the occasion to say it, but she was saved by Ash.
But before that, she concentrated on demolishing the food on her plate. They'd eaten before the first guests had arrived, but who knew standing for around three hours straight could burn off calories enough to put a hole in her stomach? Or at least caused it to grumble about having nothing to use the gastric acid on.
Mark had already tried one raw oyster earlier, after drowning it in condiments and eating it with lots of grimace and funny facial expressions. She just about died laughing. He was about to reach for another to put on her plate when Ash arrived, settling in the seat beside h
is brother.
He clapped Mark on the shoulder. "Make Lynne happy, bro, or else."
"I'm about to," was Mark's cryptic answer. He turned to her and captured her hands. "Lynne, my love, Ash and I have an engagement gift for you--"
"I thought we agreed not to give--"
"As well as my wedding gift for you."
This must be huge indeed. However, she didn't need anything more than him, but before she could tell him, he kissed her hands and went on, "You know how much I admire what you have done with your life, how far you've come, despite having lost your parents and stability at a young age. I know you have Cara and her parents to thank for that, and I have no words to convey how grateful I am that they were there for you when you needed someone..."
Not everyone knows how rough it was for foster kids who'd aged out of the system. Upon turning eighteen, they were suddenly without a home and no job prospects, not having acquired enough of a skill to be taken on as an employee.
"And I know you want to pay it forward…"
Lynne had a sudden giddy thought. Was he going to donate a huge amount to her chosen charity? If so, she'd just fallen in love with him all over again.
He smiled at her, and the tenderness in his eyes struck her to the core. "So I'm donating…"
She knew it!
"One of my personal real estate properties, where I propose to build a vocational school with a dormitory…"
Her eyes filled with tears at the enormity of his gift. It was better than money, better than anything she'd received in her life. Well, except for Cara and the Wilsons, and Mark.
"We'll have qualified people teach them practical skills so they can earn a decent living, and maybe we can also tie up with local businesses to secure apprenticeships--"
Lynne threw herself into his arms, heedless of the tears ruining her mascara and make-up. "Oh Mark. Thank you, thank you! It's perfect, the best present ever."
"Hey, now, I didn't mean to make you cry," he teased. "Perhaps I should take it back--"
"No, no. No more crying, I promise." She gulped back the tears as Mark produced a handkerchief from his pocket and began dabbing at her cheeks.
"What's this?" Cara appeared, resplendent in her red gown. "Is the bride having second thoughts? There's still time to back out, Lynne. The ring's not on your finger yet."
Lynne laughed at Cara's teasing, as she knew she was meant to. She'd never felt more blessed in her life, with the two people she loved best in the world sharing this wonderful moment with her.
"Mark and Ash are giving me the greatest gift," she recounted to her best friend, smiling. "A home and school for foster kids, a chance for them to make something of their lives, just like what your parents gave me."
"Mark hasn't gotten to my contribution yet," Ash interjected.
Lynne looked at him, brows furrowed. "Oh. I thought you and he--"
"No, that's his personal property he's donating," Ash clarified. "Jake's coming up with the blueprints for the school and the dormitory, and I will be overseeing the whole thing--construction, looking for sponsorships, lining up the programs, working with social service agencies, etc." He shifted uneasily on his seat. "However, Mark--"
"However, I thought you might like a hand with choosing the manager and lining up the programs, since you'd know best what these kids will need," Mark said.
"Yes." She couldn't stop smiling, though tears blurred her vision a bit. He truly did know her. He knew she wouldn't be happy sitting in the sidelines, especially with the cause dearest to her heart.
Chapter Ten
LYNNE AND MARK
After the highlight--Mark's revelation of his gift--the party passed in a blur, and all Lynne could think about was being alone with Mark so she could finally tell him about their little one. It was time, past time. Wishing she had told him earlier was moot; the best she could do now was to tell him as soon as possible. Like, immediately right after the party.
Mark drew her into a hug as soon as they entered their bedroom. "Happy?"
"Very." She wound her arms around his waist and held on tight. "Also scared."
After the proposal and in the rush to get the different pieces in place for the party, there had been no time to think much of anything. But now that the party was over, now that it was just her and Mark and the silence of their bedroom, the enormity of the situation she'd walked into pressed down on her.
"What about?" Mark's arms tightened about her.
"This. Our life together. Our future." Tension pervaded her body. She held something precious in her hands; one wrong move and it might shatter. "What if we screw up?"
He lifted her chin so that he was looking into her eyes. "I can't promise that we won't. But I can promise you that I'll always be here for you and that we'll face everything together."
"Together," she echoed. The secret she was still keeping from him weighed down on her. It was time to man up. Or woman up, for that matter. Whatever Mark's reaction, she would bear it. And didn't he say they would work through things together? She squared her shoulders. "Mark, I have something to tell you."
His lips quirked, amused. "Confession time? Already?"
She was about to open her mouth when his expression changed. Pain lined his brow and he pushed her away as he doubled over, a hand on his stomach.
"Mark?" For a moment, Lynne thought she'd blurted out the truth, and that this was his reaction. Then she realized he wouldn't be manifesting these physical signs of pain. There would be stunned disbelief and anger, maybe murderous wrath, but not this. Fear, then panic clawed at her. She placed a hand on his back. "Mark? What's happening?"
"Stomach. Hurts," Mark gasped out, hands reaching out blindly, which she grasped as she led him to sit on the nearest structure, which happened to be the bed. He cursed and shut his eyes, teeth clenched together.
Mark needs me.
The thought cleared her head and calm replaced her terror.
"Hospital," she said, coming to a decision. "Wait here."
Even if Mark could walk, she didn't have the strength to support him down to the car. She rushed out of the room and shouted, "Help! Someone help me. Please!" while knocking on the doors of the other bedrooms. She'd given rooms to Cara and her men, as well as to Mason and his lover. She hoped they were in there right now and not elsewhere--
"What's up?" Mason came running of his room, hands zipping up his trousers.
"Thank goodness!" She ran to him and tugged him in the direction of her room. "Mark needs to go to the hospital--"
A shriek from behind one of the closed doors interrupted her. She recognized that sound. In unison, they spun in that direction and barged into the room.
"Cara?" A quick glance showed a naked threesome, with one of the men doubled over on the bed in pain. Like Mark.
Her best friend raised frightened eyes to her. "Max."
"Get dressed," she ordered. "We're going to the hospital."
In short order, they were en route to the hospital, one car driven by Jake and the other by Kyle. While Mark and Max were attended to by the emergency personnel, the women held hands and the men paced. Finally, the doctor drew aside the curtain and came out. He was smiling.
Lynne almost collapsed in relief. Cara squeezed her hand. Smiling was good, right?
"Your young men will be all right. Just a bad case of food poisoning. We've purged their stomachs, but we'd like to keep them overnight for observation, to be sure. Any idea what could've caused it?"
"The battered shrimp?"
"Beef?"
"Could it be the bean curd?" This came from Cara. "I heard they spoil rather fast."
"Oysters?"
"Raw?" the doctor asked.
Lynne shook her head. "Steamed."
"Best not to eat shellfish raw." The doctor nodded. "Still, it would take only one bad oyster."
"Make that two," Jake joked.
The doctor smiled. "If someone could come with me to fill up the papers, we'll make the necessary
arrangements for the rooms."
"I'll go," Mason volunteered.
"And me," Kyle said. "Why don't you guys get our patients settled in? We'll be up shortly."
Two hours later, Lynne was alone with a grumpy Mark, Jake and Mason having gone home and promising to come by the next day to pick them up. Cara and her men were in another room.
"What a day, huh," Mark grumbled. "This is so not how I envisioned this night to end."
A smile curved Lynne's lips. She was lying on the bed beside him, lovingly cocooned in his arms. She was so happy he was fine she didn't care much of anything else. "Who could boast spending the night of their engagement party in a hospital?"
"Kinky," he allowed.
"Memorable."
"Absolutely, my lovely bride-to-be." Finally, he grinned. "Who knew you'd have a hospital fetish, huh?"
She poked him in the ribs.
He wriggled away, being ticklish. The bed bounced. "If people knew, they might think you can't wait for the wedding to get at my millions."
She glared at him. She remembered the rancid taste of fear, the frantic beat of panic that had clawed at her heart. "Not funny."
"It would be if Ash had said it."
"You're not Ash." At the darkening of his eyes, she added, "And I don't want you to be." She caressed his cheek and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "I like you just as you are." She considered. "Well, maybe not."
He lifted an eyebrow. "No?"
"If you could place your clothes in the laundry basket instead of just leaving them everywhere, if you could stop encroaching on my side of the study desk, and if you could give me more orgasms, you'd be perfect."
Her heart lifted and swelled at hearing him laugh, that no-holds-barred laughter that she loved and which transformed his face from his usual stern, serious mien to something quite boyish.
"Seems I've got a lot of reforming to do." He moved to kiss her and just before their lips met, he whispered, "Wife."
Minutes--hours--later, Mark broke the kiss. "You think it's the oysters?"
"It's the only thing you had that I didn't." She remembered Mark had filled two plates with the same food and a third plate with the oysters that she didn't touch. "Why did you, anyway? I thought you don't like them."
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