But I’m still piqued by the way they all seemed so ready to believe that Daniel has, at the very worst time, turned into a criminal in search of a fix. I mean, I understand that they think he’s capable because of his past. But that is not who he is now. There’s nothing that would convince me otherwise. I know how much he loves his brother. How pleased he would be to see this day come and be a part of it. Interfering with his brother’s happiness is the last thing he would want.
“Let’s have a glass of champagne,” Felicity suggests.
“I’ll get it,” Lainey says, and moves away in search of a bottle.
“It’ll be okay,” Sophie tells me.
“I just don’t understand what’s happened. How has he been these last few months? Has he been sober?” I ask.
Felicity nods. “He has. The lads have all been on high alert, keeping an eye on him and making sure he was doing okay after . . . well, after Montreal.”
“Gavin said he was down, but managing,” Sophie adds.
“But he has been a little distant these last couple days.” Felicity gives me an apologetic smile. “I have to admit that I didn’t pay as much attention to him here as I maybe should have. I was just so busy with the kids and with being together with Conor again.”
“I’m guilty, too,” Sophie says sheepishly.
“Neither one of you needs to take any blame for this,” I tell them. “Whatever this is. I still don’t—”
I stop when Lainey returns. She’s struggling to manage four champagne flutes. I help by taking one and draining it.
“Here, you can have mine,” Sophie says. Being pregnant, she can’t drink. And it seems this child won’t have to grapple with a name like Liverpool or Cardiff. She hadn’t gotten pregnant during that stretch of the tour. It was a bit later, so the names Gavin likes to tease her with are Warsaw and Berlin.
I take her glass and finish half of it quickly.
“Well, whatever happens now, I’m glad you’re here,” Felicity says.
I laugh helplessly. “I’m not sure what good I am. I mean, Conor basically said Daniel had gone off the deep end because of me being here.”
“He what?”
“It’s okay,” I tell Felicity. “He didn’t really mean to blame me. But now I have to wonder.”
“You really shouldn’t—”
Sophie cuts herself off when her mobile rings. We can all see the photo of Gavin as the incoming caller and wait anxiously for her to answer and get an update.
Turning away, she takes the call. Other than a few murmurs, it’s hard to gauge what’s being said. Though the call lasts no more than two minutes, it feels like an eternity before she turns her attention back to us. My stomach is sick from a combination of the champagne and the worry that Daniel has done something worse than first reported.
“I told you it was going to be okay,” she starts.
“What does that mean?” I ask quickly, not allowing her to continue even though that’s all I want in the world right now.
“Daniel’s on his way here. In fact, he should be getting a ride right to the service road off the terrace where the cocktails are happening.”
I don’t hesitate. I just start moving through the room until I’m out the door and looking for the road Sophie mentioned.
52
Danny Boy
* * *
Cop cars are the same the world over, I can attest to that. The one I’m in now is in better shape than the ones I’ve seen the inside of in Dublin and Lisbon, but the nuts and bolts are the same: flashy lights on the roof, radio gizmo inside, and too much testosterone behind the wheel. My current chauffeur is especially stroppy because before I could even be taken inside the station, he got pulled aside and had some sort of talking to by a guy with more insignias on his shoulder than him.
Since then, he’s been mutely driving me back toward the resort where Shay and Jessica are to be married in less than a half hour. I’ve tried to make small talk, but it’s gone nowhere. My guess is the fella got his balls handed to him back at the station and he’s currently sucking on them. Serves him right. He had a bad attitude since the first moment I came into contact with him.
The silence doesn't bother me. Not when I know I’m only minutes away from an epic day. My kid brother is getting married. And I’m going to get to see Amelia.
“Aye, you’re taking a wrong turn,” I say when the cop steers the cruiser past the main parking area of the resort.
If looks could kill, I’d be flat out with what he throws my way through the rearview mirror.
I sit back and before too long realize we’re still in the resort, but on some sort of access road. Soon enough, we come to a stop and I can see wedding guests milling about in the pre-ceremony cocktails area. If I play it nice and quiet, I might be able to get out of the car without bringing too much attention to myself.
My dick of a police escort has other ideas, however, as he switches on the blue and red lights and lets the siren go off in one incredibly loud whoop.
“Fuck’s sake, man! This is my brother’s wedding. Have a heart.”
My words go nowhere. He’s already gotten out of the car and is moving at a snail’s pace toward my door. I can’t open it from the inside. Even if I could, I have my hands behind my back in cuffs.
Finally, he opens my door for me and I slide out. When I look up, the sun blinds me for a second. It’s a warm, beautiful afternoon. The air is fresh and fragrant with the nature all around us. And when my vision clears, I see that all the wedding guests have gravitated toward the scene Officer Badittude has just made.
I’m both lucky and unlucky at this point. I’m lucky that Shay and Jessica are not here to witness this. And I’m unlucky that this is the first impression Amelia has of me after our separation of three months.
“There a Gavin McManus here?” the officer asks in that bellow that all cops seem to have.
Gavin steps forward, an amused smile on his face.
“You good, man?” he asks me.
“Let’s get this over with,” I reply.
He spends a few minutes with Officer Badittude, chatting him up as only he can, somehow getting the bastard to lighten up. Before I know it, the two are taking a selfie together.
A fucking selfie.
“Do you mind?” I ask, wagging my cuffed hands at them.
The cop has the nerve to roll his eyes. And then he takes his time releasing me from the metal bracelets. I turn back to the car and grab the box I’d been holding onto in the backseat. I quickly slip it into the inside pocket of my suit coat. As part of the wedding party, I’ve got on the required navy-blue suit, but it’s now a bit worse for wear after my little adventure. I’m trying to smooth out the wrinkles and ignoring the gawking crowd when someone throws their arms around me.
Just as I register that it’s Amelia, she pulls away, her hands on my face as she looks intently into my eyes.
“You’re okay,” she says with a laugh that almost sounds like a cry.
“And you’re beautiful,” I counter. She’s a vision in her white dress patterned with bright flowers. It has delicate ruffles at the deep V-neckline and cinches at the waist. Her legs look long and shapely in the heels she’s wearing. I have the urge to grab her, pull her to me, and dip her for a dramatic kiss.
But she has other plans. “Daniel, we were all so worried.”
“Where the fuck have you been?” Conor asks, as he comes storming up the path toward us.
“What are you so bent out of shape about? I’m the one who had to deal with the overly aggressive Garda.”
“Yeah, well you better kiss Gavin’s ass for getting you out of this.”
“Love to. Gav, drop those trousers and let me have at it,” I say with a laugh.
“Always a fucking joke,” Conor mutters.
Gavin puts a hand on my shoulder. “What happened, man? One second you were here, and then next we’re hearing you got arrested for breaking and entering.”
“Total bullshit, that. I should file a fucking lawsuit. Isn’t that what they love to do in America, anyway? Abuse of power or violating my rights or something like that?”
“Daniel, please,” Amelia says, and I can hear the strain in her voice.
“It was all a bunch of nonsense.” I try to sound reassuring, but I’m still pissed off by what went down.
“You’re not high, are you?” Conor asks.
“No, I’m not fucking high. Jesus, is that what all yous thought? That I’d run off right before my brother’s wedding to get doped up?”
Conor raises his eyebrows at me. Gavin gives a little shrug.
But Amelia, she shakes her head. She’s the only one who had any faith in me. My Amelia knew me better than anyone. She knew I’d never fuck over my brother on his big day. She knows how far I’ve come with my sobriety and that I’m not about to let it slip away.
There’s no stopping me now. I do what I had envisioned a minute ago. I grab her around the waist, tilt her back just so and kiss her full on the mouth. And god she tastes good.
I realize a second too late that it’s not just her familiar taste that I’m enjoying. It’s champagne.
Fuck it. I kiss her again, ignoring the crowd murmuring at the scene I’m making.
“Daniel,” she says softly, pulling away.
She’s never been one for public displays, so I let her go.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“For what?”
“For still believing in me. For being the only one to still believe in me.”
She smiles and her eyes shimmer with tears.
“This makes everything even clearer,” I say.
“What does?”
“Listen, the reason I got arrested is because I realized I needed to get something back at the place we’re all staying. So, I ran back, thinking it would be simple and quick enough. But, when I got there I couldn’t remember the fucking gate code to get in. So, naturally, I jumped the gate. Apparently, some nosey neighbor in the estate across the way called the fucking coppers on me because just as I grab what I wanted from my room, I’m being shoved up against the wall and read my so-called rights.”
“You got arrested for stealing your own shit?” Conor asks with a smirk.
“This story isn’t for you, so fuck off,” I tell him, and he laughs.
I realize that I had only been focusing on Amelia, but the crowd is still gathered. I’ve never let something like an audience stop me before, so I continue.
“But yeah, I got arrested for stealing my own shit.” I laugh and shake my head. “Actually, it’s not mine. It’s yours.”
Amelia’s eyebrows come together in confusion.
Reaching inside my coat pocket, I pull out the Tiffany box with her necklace.
“This belongs to you, baby,” I tell her. She starts to shake her head, but I keep talking. “I told you to wear it and remember that I love you. You can’t give that back. You can’t give me my love back.”
“I wasn’t trying—”
“I know, I know. You have your noble reasons for leaving it. I know you think it’s too expensive. That since we weren’t together it wasn’t appropriate to keep it. But you know I don’t play by those fucking rules.”
When she smiles at me, there’s such acceptance in it. It’s pure and amazing, because it shows me she knows who I am and that she’d never try to change the essential me.
“Well, then,” she says, “put it on me.”
Grinning, I do as she says and am mesmerized for a moment at the way the diamonds sparkle in the sunlight against her soft skin.
“I will keep it. And I’ll always remember—”
“No. This isn’t about nostalgia for what we had, Amelia. I went and got this because I realized we’re not over. We aren’t done.”
“Oh, Daniel. I, em, I don’t think we should get into this right now. Shay probably needs you. The ceremony will be starting soon.”
“She’s right, Danny Boy,” Conor says quietly.
“Yeah, come on, man,” Gavin adds. “We’re late as it is.”
“Fuck off, you two, and give me some peace on this,” I growl.
Amelia touches my face again and I look at her. “Daniel, we’ll talk after. At the reception, okay? It’s Shay and Jessica’s time now.”
Grudgingly, I come to realize she’s right. Still, I kiss her again quickly. “We’re not done,” I tell her as I back away. “Not by a long shot!”
She smiles and shakes her head. Not in a denial, though. It’s more resignation. The good kind. The kind that gives me hope that she knows what I know, that our story won’t be closed by this epilogue. We’ve got many more chapters to live before that comes along.
“Come on, lads,” I say and turn, breaking into a sprint to get to my brother.
53
Danny Boy
* * *
Shay is none the wiser when we get to the cottage where Martin has him occupied with trying to teach his kids how to hold drum sticks the proper way and tap out a rhythm.
“This is all well and good,” I say, putting my arm around Shay’s shoulders, “but I think there’s a wedding to be had, yeah?”
Shay looks at me quickly. “Is it time?”
“It is, kid. Let’s do this.”
He nods and before I know it, he and I are up front next to an arch made of flowers, waiting for Jessica to make her way down the aisle.
I lean into Shay. “I’m proud of you, brother. You are the best man I know. A real inspiration for how to do things right.”
Glancing at me, I can see a flicker of emotion in his eyes. He blinks it away and nods.
“Thanks for being here, Danny Boy,” he tells me.
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
“No, I mean, thanks for somehow getting out of being arrested. I appreciate that.”
I look at him, but he’s got his eyes fixed on the aisle, awaiting his bride.
“The necklace looks great on Amelia, by the way,” he adds.
“Wait just a minute. Who told you? You weren’t meant to know any of that,” I say.
He still doesn’t look my way, just smiles a little. “I’m always keeping watch on you, don’t you know?”
I’m floored. But after a minute, I can’t help but laugh. One way or another, they must have all been working behind the scenes to make sure I got out of the jam I was in. It’s just one more example of how not just Shay, but all these guys, have my back. Now, Shay glances at me and we share a knowing smile that turns into a laugh.
We go silent when the violinist to our right starts playing. A succession of wedding party members come down the aisle. I watch them all float by in a daze, feeling an unfamiliar feeling. It’s a natural kind of high that I don’t remember ever having before. When Sophie walks down the aisle holding Daisy’s hand, and Daisy looks at me with the biggest, sweetest smile, I realize what I’m feeling. It’s pure, uncomplicated happiness.
That feeling jumps to a new level when Jessica appears on her father’s arm and I can practically feel the love radiating off Shay.
I shake my head, smiling from ear to ear.
What an amazing day.
And it’s only going to get better.
54
Danny Boy
* * *
I’m proud of myself for not ditching my best-man duties after the ceremony in favor of finding Amelia. Instead, I dutifully stay with the wedding party and pose for photos. Though it’s not a large wedding, it does have all the traditional elements that Jessica wanted, including a lot of group photos. She even makes a point to have a photo of the three of us: me, Shay, and her. It’s a sweet gesture, very like Jessica herself.
As soon as I’m reasonably able, though, I go on the hunt for my girl. She’s not by the pool for the cocktails. On a guess, I go down to where the dinner will be. There are long tables set under willows and near grapevines. Dozens of little lanterns hang in the trees and on strings overhead, gro
wing brighter as the sun sets.
There’s a large, clear-walled tent to the side, and I see Amelia inside. Besides the catering and event staff, she’s by herself.
“There she is,” I say as I join her.
She spins to face me, and her dress flutters up around her legs as she does so. God, she’s gorgeous.
“What a beautiful wedding,” she says.
“Fantastic, yeah.”
“It’s so lovely to see them together and so happy.”
“It is,” I agree. “They surely deserve it.”
She nods. And then we’re quiet. Having run out of small talk, we revert to just watching each other.
I take a deep breath, knowing it’s all on me now. “I’ve missed you like crazy,” I tell her.
“I’ve missed you, too. A lot.” She hesitates. “But that doesn’t change why we separated.”
I look away from her, to the side of the tent where there’s a duo of staff setting up the bar. I laugh when I realize I’m not interested in having a drink but rather want some privacy away from them.
“Come with me,” I say, and hold out my hand.
I can see her mind working. She’s fighting with herself over whether to cut things short and protect herself or give me one more chance.
I’ll never really know why she keeps giving me another chance, but I’m grateful she does. She takes my hand and I lead her outside toward the long, rustic wood tables already set lavishly with white flowers and candles down the middle.
“Here’s the thing,” I start. But then the words fail me. My throat closes up. She looks at me expectantly and I feel the pressure of knowing this is my very last chance. In the end, I choose someone else’s words to fill in where I’ve come up short. Actually, it’s the words of several different people—all men smarter than me who have been through a rough spot and come out wiser for it. “I don’t think I gave our love a chance to breathe,” I say.
Problematic Love (Rogue Series Book 8) Page 27