by Mara Wells
The wedding started with Oliver, the five-year-old ring bearer, barreling down the aisle at top speed with LouLou loping alongside him on a hot-pink and rhinestone bedazzled leash, tail wagging. At the front, Oliver slammed to a stop in front of his dad. Lance gently coaxed him into place next to him. Oliver clung to his leg, eyes wide as he looked out at the crowd. Caleb took LouLou’s leash and faced the aisle, clear expectation on his handsome face.
At some cue Danielle missed, everyone turned to watch the bridesmaids process down the aisle. In contrast to the matched groomsmen, each woman wore a dress of her own choosing, something Riley’d insisted on in spite of Sydney’s nearly daily appeals to be more coordinated. Like the riot of loud flowers everywhere, though, Danielle found it charming. First there was Sydney in her stunning gown, then Carrie in an emerald sheath that clung to her and rippled with each step she took. Next, Eliza followed in a flowing silver tunic, and finally Patty came down the aisle, leaning on her yellow walker, her yellow Crocs peeking out from the hem of her floor-length dress festooned with bright sunflowers.
When at last the string quartet played the opening strains of the bridal march, Riley glided down the aisle in the palest of pink wedding gowns, holding hands with her Grams. Both women smiled widely, processing slowly toward the front. Once Grams kissed Riley’s cheek and took her seat, Riley handed off her flowers to Sydney, positioned LouLou between her and Caleb, and took Caleb’s hand.
The words flowed around Danielle, the descriptions of marriage as a life partnership, the admonition never to give up on each other, the exchanging of simple vows and simple rings. The whole time, Danielle couldn’t look away from Knox. The suit was tailored to fit over the brace, so one leg looked bulkier than the other, but he still looked good to Danielle. In her mind, the leg brace only proved his courage and loyalty. No doubt about it, of all the men standing up there, Knox was the real catch, even if his eyebrows were furrowed in that way that let Danielle know his leg was hurting.
He must’ve felt her stare because he turned his head in her direction. Over the heads of many guests, across the distance between them, Danielle felt the pull. He held himself so still, his complete focus on her. It was physically painful not to go to him. So much undefined between them, but she didn’t care. She wanted to be near him, soaking in his heat and that clean smell he carried with him like he’d just scrubbed behind his ears.
Her fingers twitched, alerting Pops to her heightened awareness. He raised his head and plunked it on her knee. She patted him absentmindedly, thoughts whirring in her mind faster than greyhounds around a track. She wanted to be with Knox. One night, one week, one month—whatever time limit she imagined for them—would never be enough for her. But she couldn’t give him the family she knew he wanted, and she didn’t think she could live with the long-term disappointment that would set in. The eventual resentment. The right thing to do was to walk away, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength to do it. Couldn’t she keep him for a little while longer and then selflessly give him up to be happy with someone else?
Pops nosed at her wrist, alerting her to how her fingers had fisted in his fur. Poor thing. She relaxed her hand. No, the longer she held on to Knox, the harder it would be when they inevitably parted ways. It would be better to end it now. It would hurt, but not as much as it would hurt later. Not at the reception, though. She couldn’t break up with him at his own brother’s wedding. No, she’d wait until after, maybe even tomorrow.
Her fingers glided across Pops’ scalp, and the old dog leaned heavily against her leg in appreciation. So she could dance with Knox at the reception, could enjoy him at least for today. She smiled at him over the heads of all the guests, and he smiled back, his eyes full of promises she intended to let him keep. At least one more time.
When Riley and Caleb shared their first kiss as a married couple, Danielle swiped away a tear, wishing Sean were nearby with one of his tissues. Her small clutch was useless, only big enough to hold her phone, keys, and a lip gloss. The cheers woke Pops up from his impromptu nap, and he sat up with a low grumble in his throat. The musicians played something lively, and Caleb and Riley led the way to the elevator. They disappeared, waving at their guests, as the doors closed behind them.
The wedding party filled the next elevator, and then the ushers had their hands full, arranging groups of people for the descent. Her dad and Sherry made it into the second elevator, but Danielle hung back with Pops. She wouldn’t make him take the ramp, not with his arthritic joints, but she also wouldn’t squeeze him into an elevator with a bunch of strangers.
The first to arrive, Danielle was also the last to leave. Alone after even the ushers left, Danielle spun in a slow circle, taking it all in one last time. It had been a perfect wedding, and she was sure that Riley and Caleb were heading right into their perfect happily-ever-after. She took a few more pictures, wanting to remember every moment because she knew she’d never have anything like it for herself.
* * *
Knox thanked God for the open bar. The whole ceremony had gotten to him and not in the shed-a-tear-out-of-beauty way but because he kept thinking how it should’ve been him and Danielle exchanging vows. Not today, obviously, but years ago. He’d asked, and she’d said yes, and then things had fallen apart. Like with his leg, he desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were. Also like his leg, he feared there’d been too much damage for that to ever be possible. Seeing her sitting in the row with her dad, a greyhound at her feet, it had hit him that she wouldn’t want to leave her life here. How could he even ask it of her?
Where was she? He scanned the packed lobby of the Dorothy, not finding her by the buffet or on the dance floor. Caleb and Riley had already danced their first dance, joined on the floor by Grams and Grandpa William. And of course, LouLou standing on her hind legs to be included had been so adorable that the photographer had gone wild taking pictures of her. Knox had no doubt there’d be more pictures of the poodle than of him in the couple’s wedding album.
He sipped his second drink and walked out the front doors to loiter on the newly landscaped front lawn. Tables and chairs had been set up out here, too, but not many people had come out yet. He found a round table with a pink rose centerpiece and planted himself, stretching out his leg. He felt himself settle into recon mode, the long wait a part of the job, no need to complain or wish it away.
Knox was finally rewarded when Danielle made her way toward him on those tottering heels that made him notice her calves in a way he hadn’t fully appreciated before, Pops ambling along beside her like they were old friends. He supposed that they were. She smiled when she saw him, and he gestured for her to take a seat at his pink rose table.
“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Danielle tucked Pops’ leash under her thigh and blinked those big, brown eyes up at him.
He grunted something he hoped sounded affirmative and took another sip of the weird Belgian ale Caleb favored. He’d lost a bet, and his penalty was a month of drinking Caleb’s beer. He hated to admit that it was growing on him. A little.
“Your leg hurts?” Danielle folded her hands in her lap, then refolded them. Why would she be nervous? His men had often told him he had a scary-ass resting bastard face. He tried to look some other way, but he didn’t know how to change his face. A forced smile would be worse, wouldn’t it?
He gave a stiff nod in answer to her question. No use pretending otherwise. The leg was unhappy with him today and letting him know it in no uncertain terms. The over-the-counter painkillers he’d taken before the ceremony weren’t cutting it, nor was alcohol doing much to numb it.
“Do you need anything?” Danielle’s hand landed on the table like she might reach for him. Instead, it landed palm down on the white linen tablecloth. Her fingers toyed with a fallen rose petal. “Other than someone to teach you how to have a civilized conversation?”
“Sorry.” Knox set the drink down. Sh
e was right. Get out of his head and into the moment. Ruminating could get a Marine killed. Stay sharp, that was what he needed to do.
And nothing wrong with a little redirection, either. “The ceremony got to me, I guess. I can’t believe my little brothers are both married now.”
And I’m not. It hung between them, his long-ago proposal that she’d accepted. His more recent one she hadn’t taken seriously.
“I’m sad.” Danielle shredded the rose petal into smaller and smaller pieces. “I’ll never have something like that.”
“You could.” He willed her to look up, but she didn’t. Probably afraid he’d propose again. Who knows? Maybe he would. His gut urged him to pop the question, but his mind warned him to tread lightly.
“It wouldn’t be fair to”—she blinked suspiciously wet eyes—“whoever.”
That again. Her big secret. “What if whoever didn’t care about whatever it is you think is such a big deal?”
“Whoever would care. Eventually. Because it is a big deal. Especially for you.”
“How can you be so sure? Give me the chance to prove you wrong.” He held on to the edge of the table like it was about to take off.
“I’m not wrong.” Now she looked at him, and it speared him like a KA-BAR blade to the jugular. Whatever she was holding back, it was big. And painful.
“Maybe you are. Maybe you aren’t.” He tried to make eye contact, but she was intent on her petal-shredding project. “Try me.”
Danielle shook her head. “I thought I could do this, but now’s not the time. Not at Riley’s wedding. We have to—”
“Dance with me.” Knox stood and held out his hand. What was he doing? He didn’t dance. Not since the IED. Not for years before that, if he were honest. But the burlesque lesson had gone fine, better than fine. And Danielle liked to dance. It was enough reason to try.
“Your leg hurts.”
Somehow, Knox couldn’t stand even a minor rejection from her right now. He slammed down the rest of the Belgian ale. “For the pain. I’ll be fine. And this is a wedding reception. Aren’t we obligated to dance?”
“What about Pops?” She chewed her lip, a sign she was about to agree. He stifled the urge to grab her and make a run for it.
Instead, he remained standing, hand still hanging in the air. Waiting for her. God, how many years had he spent waiting for her? “We’ll find my grandfather first. Come on.”
Finally, clearly reluctantly, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.
It didn’t take long to deposit Pops with Grandpa William, who was holding court at the head table with stories about last year’s cruise and his plans to book another cruise for the family as soon as Riley and Caleb were back from their honeymoon.
Then Knox and Danielle were on the dance floor, and even though the tempo was too fast for a slow dance, Knox took Danielle in his arms anyway. He curved a hand around her waist and brought her against him. Her right hand curled over his heart, and it settled into a steady if elevated beat for her. They swayed.
Not to the song. They swayed to a long-ago song under a night sky. At least, that was where Knox was in his mind. That night they’d gone to see the holiday lights at the botanical gardens and gotten lost in the rain-forest section. He remembered the humidity and how the stars had peeked down at them from between the wide leaves of the canopy layer. And he remembered how sweet Danielle’s kiss had been, still flavored like the ice cream cones they’d eaten earlier. She’d pressed a button on her phone, and a song had played. He couldn’t remember it now, but it had been slow and given him a reason to hold her. It was all he’d needed then and apparently all he’d ever needed, because everything in him calmed down now that she was in the cradle of his arms.
She might think they couldn’t make this work, but her body betrayed her. It whispered to him how much she wanted to be with him, and he held on to that message. Held on to her. Dipped his forehead to rest against the top of her head. Inhaled her freshly shredded rose petal scent, memorized the way she fit against him. Eventually, the music caught up with them, a slow song with crooning words, and he pulled her tighter.
He took a step back and his damn leg wobbled.
“We should stop.” She lifted her head from where it had come to lean against his chest. “Your leg.”
“My leg is fine.” But another step betrayed him. Not his step, though; a drunken Sean twirled his partner a bit too vigorously, and she knocked into the head table. Pops jumped up at the clear attack on his people and let out a loud “Woof!” before slipping his collar and bolting onto the dance floor.
Sean laughed and caught his dance partner against his chest, but Pops was not deterred from inspecting the people who’d assaulted his table. He headed straight for them, plowing through the crowded dance floor, a dog on a mission. He was unafraid of high heels or long legs. He woofed again and picked up speed, ramming into Knox right at the knee. His left knee.
Knox’s leg buckled, and he had only a second to push Danielle to safety before he crashed to the dance floor. But she didn’t budge. Instead, she went down with him, and he landed on top of her in an embarrassed heap. The music continued to play, but the dancers backed away, making room for them to recover.
“Pops!” Grandpa William called from his seat, and Pops spun around and loped back to the table, completely unaware of the chaos he’d caused.
“Knox!” Caleb was at his brother’s side in seconds. “You okay? Danielle?”
Knox used his arms to lift himself off Danielle. His leg twinged and complained, but the leg could go to hell. He pushed himself to sitting and tried to help Danielle do the same.
Her eyes were wide with fear, and her hand clutched her chest, right above that daring neckline that had been driving him wild earlier. She beat her chest with her fist, mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish.
“Breath’s knocked out of you?”
Her head nodded so vigorously that her hair slipped from unseen pins to tumble into her face.
“Hang on. It takes a moment for it to come back.” His training kicked in. He knew how to handle a downed Marine. He talked nonsense to her until the panic faded from her eyes, and she inhaled deeply.
“Should I call 911?” Riley hovered behind Caleb, LouLou clutched under her arm.
“Not necessary,” Danielle gasped out. “At least not for me.”
“Me either,” Knox said before anyone could ask. “I was just clumsy. That ale you drink is stronger than it looks, Caleb.”
Caleb and Riley exchanged a look that made Knox think they weren’t going to buy his story, but ultimately, Caleb nodded and offered him a hand up. Riley helped Danielle stand, dusting off her dress and helping her slip back on the heel that had fallen off in the fall.
“No dogs!” Grams’ voice carried over the music, over the crowd. “There will be no dogs at my wedding, and that’s final, William Donovan. You hear me?”
“I hear you.” Grandpa William put the collar back on Pops, tightening the martingale loop. “Only Pops and absolutely no other dogs. I am one hundred percent with you on that, my darling.”
“No dogs.” Grams ran her finger across her throat like she was a mobster ordering a hit.
“No dogs that aren’t Pops. I hear you loud and clear.” Grandpa William circled the table to take a seat next to Grams, and Pops settled under the table, his head on Grams’ mauve shoes. Grandpa William tipped his head to whisper in Grams’ ear. She pinkened and said, “Okay, one dog,” and giggled.
“You sure you’re okay?” Caleb clapped Knox on the back as they headed off the dance floor, the guests already piling back in for some kind of line dance the DJ was hyping to distract from the drama.
Knox rubbed at his damn leg. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He looked around, first slowly, then more frantically. “Where’s Danielle?”
“Hustled
off to the bathroom. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.” Caleb led Knox off the dance floor and toward the bar. “Let me buy you an ale, and you can tell me what’s going on with Danielle. You two looked pretty intimate on the dance floor, especially for a guy about to move to another state.”
Knox glared at the bathroom door that had swallowed Danielle up. “Hell if I know.”
* * *
“You were practically doing it with Knox on the dance floor, and now you want to sneak out the back door? What is going on with you two?” Riley blocked Danielle from exiting the bathroom by shoving LouLou at her.
Danielle accepted the poodle, who licked under her chin in greeting. Danielle felt her panic subside. How smart Riley was to know that she needed a little dog time to settle her nerves. She rubbed LouLou’s fur in circles, and LouLou stretched her neck, nose to the air, mouth stretched into what for all the world looked like a smile.
She needed to answer Riley. Riley was her friend, and Danielle was ruining her wedding reception. “You should go back out there.”
“Out there can wait. Danielle, I’ve been worried about you for a while. Tell me what’s going on with you.” Riley petted LouLou, too, and the joint attention made the poodle shiver in delight.
Danielle felt the same degree of panic as when the wind had been knocked out of her on the dance floor. “Honestly? I have no idea.” A sob escaped her, and then she was crying. Crying hard. More than even Sean’s tissue stash could’ve dealt with. She let go of LouLou to pull a long train of towels from the paper-towel holder. She held one to her face, the rest waterfalling to the floor and around her feet, which still hurt like crazy.
“Oh no, oh no, you heard about Knox and Atlanta.” Riley wrapped an arm around Danielle and texted with her other hand. In a moment, Carrie and Sydney were in the bathroom, too.