“Thank you,” Astrid said around a yawn. “Since I’m in charge of makeup, why don’t I start with you? I want to save Britt for last, so she can grab a nap.”
“Awesome idea,” Britt said. “Bridal nap commencing in three, two, one.”
Britt made an exaggerated snoring sound, but Astrid had a point. She also looked rather exhausted herself. “Astrid, why don’t you lay down too?” I suggested.
“Me? Then who will do everyone’s makeup?”
“I can handle a mascara wand.” I glanced over my shoulder at Melody; she looked just like her father, with her olive skin and nearly black hair and eyes. As a result of her amazingly good genes, she rarely wore any makeup beyond lip gloss. “Mel, do you think we can manage?”
“We can,” she said, “especially if I can get a nap too.”
I pulled out my phone and set the alarm. “Okay, I’m giving us an hour.”
“Ninety minutes,” Astrid said. “If I only need to worry about Britt’s makeup it won’t take too long.”
“Two hours and you have a deal,” Britt declared.
Two hours was cutting it close, but the last thing we needed was a bride with dark circles under her eyes. “Two hours it is,” I said.
***
Despite the extended and unplanned naps, Britt’s wedding went off without a hitch.
Britt had forgone a veil, and her pale brown hair was swept back into a low chignon with long, elegant tendrils dragging across her shoulders. Her strapless gown was ivory with crimson and gold embroidery across the bodice and the full skirt; Britt had told me that her friend, Jorge, had hand-embroidered each and every flower.
Jorge had done the same style of embroidery to the twins’ flower girl dresses, and the two of them tumbled down the aisle toward Sam. Once they arrived, Sam crouched down and gave each of them a lollipop. Then the music shifted tempo, and Britt and her father stepped onto the aisle.
Britt looked like a princess with her long, graceful gown and hair accented with a single white orchid, but I couldn’t stop staring at Sean as he walked beside her. He was wearing a black suit with a white orchid as his boutonniere, and a crimson silk tie; leave it to Sean to get out of a bow tie, even on Britt’s wedding day. Add to their matching clothes Sean’s light brown hair and eyes that were a perfect match to Britt’s own, and the two of them could have been siblings rather than father and daughter.
I felt pressure against my palm and looked down; Emily was pressing a tissue into my hand. I hadn’t realized I was weeping. “Thank you,” I whispered. “They’re quite the pair, aren’t they?”
Emily looked from me to Sean and Britt, and bit her lower lip. “Yes, they are.”
The music reached its crescendo as Sean and Britt arrived at the top of the aisle. Sean handed Britt over to Sam, then he turned to take his seat. At the last moment Emily slid to the side, allowing Sean to sit next to me. I heard Patrick mutter, but I didn’t care. This was a moment that Sean and I deserved to experience together.
Britt and Sam exchanged their vows and rings, and the Justice of the Peace pronounced them husband and wife. They kissed, then Britt turned toward the onlookers and gave a great, whooping cry. “We’re married,” she announced. “Let’s celebrate!”
While the guests filed out of the room, Sean touched my hand. “Our baby’s married,” Sean murmured.
“She sure is,” I replied.
“I never thought my kid would get married before me,” he said.
I glanced at Emily. “Make it happen, big man.”
“Ah, no,” Sean said. “My heart belongs to someone else.”
We started at each other for a moment, and it was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he meant me. But he couldn’t mean me, now, could he? Too much time had passed, I’d betrayed him too deeply. Then Patrick grabbed my elbow and pulled me away from Sean, and toward the reception. It might have been my imagination, but for a moment I thought Sean tightened his grip on my hand, holding on to me any way he could.
***
The reception began with an hors d’oeuvres hour held in a room that adjoined the banquet hall. The room was decorated like an English parlor, and one wall was filled with floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the snowy landscape. The mansion was set upon twenty acres that contained several nature trails, and the gardens had won many awards. I could still see the architectural details of the garden, even though they were blanketed in sparkling white snow. The centerpiece was a fountain topped with a sculpture of a blue heron. Even though the plumbing had been turned off for winter, someone had thought to scatter red rose petals across the frozen water.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” my mother said as she stood beside me.
“Yes,” I replied. “Even though nothing’s in bloom, it’s still breathtaking.”
“Good gardens always have strong bones.”
“Yes, they do,” I said. “Wasn’t the ceremony wonderful?”
“It was. I think I’ll like having Sam around at family events. Maybe he can keep Patrick in line.”
I snorted. “Britt does that well enough on her own.”
I kid you not, my mother giggled. “She does, doesn’t she?” Before Mom could continue, a tiny child hurtled between us, yanked down a drapery, and ran off. “Was that Penelope?” Mom asked as Emily ran after the little girl.
“It was either her or Veronica,” I replied. Feedback—not ear-splitting, just annoying—got our attention. Mom and I looked toward the dance floor, and saw Sam standing on the stage with a microphone in his hand. “I guess Sam wants to say a few words,” I said.
Mom and I moved to the edge of the dance floor, since we wanted to be close for whatever my brand new son-in-law had to say. From that vantage point I could see Sam’s red cheeks and neck; it seemed he wasn’t a fan of public speaking. I couldn’t say I blamed him, since every eye in the place was trained on him. He cleared his throat a couple times, then he looked out at his guests.
“Thank you all for coming out to celebrate today with me and Britt,” Sam began. “Those of you who’ve known me for a while probably thought you’d see hell freeze over before you ever saw me get married. Got to admit, I thought that myself.”
“It is rather icy outside,” Michael, the best man, yelled from the back of the room.
Sam gave his friend some side eye. “As I was saying, this isn’t really a place I ever thought I’d get to. I’d gotten pretty good at isolating who I was really was, and was just barely going through the motions of life. Then I met Britt.”
Sam looked around the hall, and found Britt sitting with her bridesmaids at the bar. He held out his hand, and Britt slid off her barstool and approached him. When she got close enough, he grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. “This girl here, my beautiful Britannica Lynn, she laid me bare in more ways than one. She made me be myself, my real self, and made me want to be a better man.” Sam smiled at Britt. “I love you, angel. I’m so glad you’ll let me spend my life loving you.”
Britt jumped into Sam’s arms, and he dropped the microphone as he caught her waist. Not that he could really say anything, what with Britt covering his face in kisses. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I didn’t need to. I was so happy she and Sam had found each other.
Fingertips grazed my palm for the second time that day. I looked down at a strong hand, the skin still tan even though it was the middle of winter. Sean’s hand. Without thinking, I laced my fingers with his, and squeezed.
“I’m so glad they’re together,” I said. “They belong with each other.”
Sean smiled. “They sure do.”
Chapter Nine
Cindy
Present Day
The rest of the reception hour and the following dinner were lovely, filled with good food and wonderful company. Patrick was there too, but he was going out of his way to behave. He limited his time with Britt and Sam to a short congratulation, and then he sat at the table and split his time between checking his phone and watching the rest of t
he guests dance.
Patrick didn’t dance. Dancing was too much like fun, and if there was anything Patrick didn’t like, it was fun. Then the DJ announced that it was time for the bride and groom’s parents to dance, and Patrick glared at me.
“Did you know she was doing this?” Patrick demanded. “She goes out of her way to irritate me.”
“It is tradition for the parents to dance,” I said as I stood. Patrick rose to his feet beside me. “One dance won’t kill you.”
“I think the bride’s biological parents are the ones who are supposed to dance together.”
Patrick frowned, and I looked over my shoulder and saw Sean extending his hand to me. I hadn’t danced with Sean since my own wedding, and I still sometimes fantasized about him holding me as we went through the motions around a ballroom. If my husband hadn’t spoken I would have melted into Sean’s arms without a second thought.
“I don’t know if this is appropriate,” Patrick barked.
“Oh, Patrick, it’s just one dance,” I said. “I’m sure you will find some way to amuse yourself for the next five minutes.”
With that I took Sean’s hand, and let him lead me onto the dance floor. Sam’s parents, Captain and Lieutenant MacKellar, were already out there swaying to the music. Sean drew me close, the familiar feel and smell of him wrapping around me as much as his arms.
“Still wearing the same cologne,” I murmured.
“You always said it was your favorite.” Sean led me across the floor, then he said, “I like your dress.”
“This old thing?” I winked at Sean, and he laughed. My dress wasn’t old at all, but a very new thing that I’d purchased and had tailored without Patrick’s knowledge. Well, he’d known that I purchased a dress, but Patrick had assumed it was one of those standard mother of the bride gowns with a high neck and no waist to speak of.
The dress that I was wearing wasn’t like that at all; it was a thing of beauty. The base fabric was a form fitting sheath of dark purple silk, and it was overlaid with heavily beaded black lace; the beading meant that it weighed a ton, but I didn’t care. Add the dress’s smooth lines to the halter neck and low back, and I looked damn hot.
“If this represents your old clothes, the new ones might be the death of me.” Sean looked past me and smiled. “Patrick looks pissed.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, Patrick was standing there with his fists clenched, scowling at us. “God, you’d think we were having sex in the middle of the dance floor,” I muttered.
“I take it he’s the same old Patrick, then,” Sean said.
I sighed, and laid my forehead against Sean’s chest. By “same old Patrick” Sean meant the controlling, suspicious man that had never raised his hand or voice to me, but always knew exactly how I’d spent my day, who I’d spoken to, and about any and all purchases I’d made. At first I thought he was just tracking my credit card statements, then I found the small camera mounted above my closet door. After that I started paying more attention to my rearview mirror, and noticed the three late model sedans that seemed to rotate out on a daily basis, and were always a car length or two behind me.
“He’s not the same. He’s gotten much worse,” I said. “Sometimes, I think he’s worried I’ll violate the prenuptial agreement.”
“Violate it how?” Sean asked.
I laughed shortly. “There is a very lengthy section which states that if I’m found cheating on Patrick, it will void the marriage contract and revoke my rights to any kind of monetary settlement or alimony. It goes so far as to write Britt out, as well.”
“Does that even matter anymore?” Sean tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Britt’s got Sam, and so what about Patrick’s money? You can make your own. You always did. You’re too smart to let him control you like this.”
Something about Sean calling me smart sent butterflies stampeding in my belly. “I think he’s more concerned about the embarrassment factor.”
The song ended, and Sean and I found ourselves on the opposite side of the dance floor, far from Patrick and Emily and their suspicious glances. Since it was also the side closest to the bar, Sean placed his hand on my back and escorted me toward it.
“Two gin and tonics,” he ordered. Once our drinks had been delivered he replaced his hand on my lower back, his thumb stroking my bare skin, and guided me to an alcove even farther from our significant others.
“Hiding from Emily?” I teased.
“I figured you could use a break from Pat,” Sean replied, a non-answer if I ever heard one. “So, you were saying that Pat’s worried you’ll embarrass him?”
“Well, it’s more like he’s afraid that I’ll spill about a certain medical condition he has.” When Sean raised his eyebrows expectantly, I continued, “Okay, I’ll tell you, but we’re going to pretend I was really drunk when I did it.”
Sean laughed. “Wow, you didn’t even stand up to a full minute of questioning. Okay, Cinnamon, tell me the big bad wolf’s secret.”
I glanced around, then I stood on my toes and whispered into Sean’s ear, “Patrick’s impotent.”
“What?” Sean asked, raising an eyebrow. “How long?”
“As far as I know, always,” I replied. “I didn’t know until after we were married.” I snorted, then I drank some of my gin and tonic. “I was exactly what he’d searched for, a pretty young thing who had already had a child, who could stand on his arm and keep his colleagues from questioning why he never dated. I’m a trophy wife in every sense of the word.”
“I always wondered why you never had more babies,” Sean muttered. “You were such a great mom to Britt, and we’d always planned on having our little Merriam Webster.” I laughed, remembering when we were two foolish kids with plans to have a basketball team’s worth of children, all of them named after reference materials.
“I wanted to,” I whispered. “I still do. Patrick had us try all these fertility treatments, but he had no viable sperm.” I shuddered, remembering all the tests both we had both endured.
“Pat didn’t want to use a donor?”
“I refused,” I said. “I read about the side effects of the hormones I would have to take, and put my foot down.”
Sean chuckled. “I remember you refusing birth control pills for just the same reason. And how when you were pregnant you only ate organic vegetables, and how you made your mother throw away every garden and cleaning chemical in the house.”
I ducked my head. “I needed Britt safe from all that nonsense.”
“Like I always said, you are the best mama ever.” Sean placed his hand on my elbow and drew me closer. “So it’s been what, ten years since you had sex?”
“Yes and no,” I replied. “Patrick does what he can, but he’s never been inside me.” I thought about all the toys I had stashed in my dressing room; Patrick’s way of compensating for his lack of erections was to get me a new dildo for every major holiday. Not that I’d ever asked for one. Not that I’d wanted any of them. What I did want was a man who held me in his arms every night, whispering how much he loved me until we drifted off to sleep together.
Sean used to do that. And like an idiot, I’d married Patrick.
“You’ve never messed around on him?” Sean asked. When I glared at him, he added, “I know you’re not like that, Cin, but ten years is a long time. I ended up with Emily after five, and I only looked at her twice because she reminded me of you.”
I ignored the butterflies in my stomach, and said, “At least you have her now.”
Sean tossed back the rest of his drink. “I wouldn’t say I have her. Hell, I haven’t touched her in more than a year. We don’t even sleep in the same bed.”
My mouth dropped open; for the past few years I’d been existing in a sort of stasis, assuming that Sean was happy with his new girlfriend and the twins while I went through the motions with Patrick. I placed my hand on Sean’s forearm and squeezed. “The last person that made love to me was you.”
&nbs
p; Sean’s gaze went from soft to determined, then he kissed my forehead. “Coat check in ten,” he murmured against my skin. I almost asked him what he needed at the coat check and why I had to go with him, then I remembered our code words from high school. Of course, back then we used to duck into the locker rooms or an empty classroom for a few stolen moments.
Was I about to have a stolen moment with Sean?
“In ten,” I said, then we walked off in opposite directions.
I stopped at the bar and ordered two more drinks, then I made my way to Patrick’s side. As soon as Patrick saw me emerge from the crowd, he pounced on me.
“Where have you been?” he demanded. “That song ended almost ten minutes ago.”
“I ordered you a drink,” I said, handing him a plain tonic with lime. “It’s crowded over there.”
Patrick frowned, but didn’t question me further. After I spent a few minutes playing the dutiful wife, I excused myself for the restroom. Patrick nodded, his gaze fixed on me as I walked away. Thanks to the crowd he didn’t see me walk right past the ladies’ room door and toward the coat check.
Sean was waiting for me, leaning against the wall next to the attendant’s window. When he saw me he nodded, then he turned and walked toward the stairs. Wordlessly, I followed him to the second floor and down the hallway, and then into one of the dressing rooms. A dressing room with a couch.
“How did you know about this room?” I asked.
“The groomsmen got ready in here,” Sean replied as he locked the door behind me. “Sam had me and his father come up for drinks with them.” He gave me a look and continued, “While you girls were napping.”
I laughed. “You heard about that?”
“We talked about that quite a bit.”
We laughed, then we just stood there staring at each other until I dropped my gaze. “Sean, I’m married.”
“The way I understand it, a marriage needs to be consummated.” Sean took my hand and drew my wedding ring off my finger. He set it on a side table, then he placed his palm on my cheek and coaxed my face upward. “Remember our first time?”
Changing Fate (Changing Teams Series Book 3) Page 4