“I dunno. Just because we’re friends. We have an easy way, don’t we? I feel like we can talk about things. We can joke, flirt, whatever. It’s harmless.”
She nodded, seeming to accept this as a way to dismiss the attraction he was certain they both felt for each other. There was no way she could really focus on him, anyway, not with over a hundred guests in the room, all clamoring for her attention.
The outdoor, nondenominational ceremony had been simple but sweet. The venue was a private estate just over the border in Northern Ireland, and they had lucked out with mild weather. Sophie had chosen a dress that was perfectly her—elegant, but with a neckline low enough to have some sex appeal. She’d placed an emerald brooch at the base of it, near her breastbone, ensuring that her hazel eyes turned vivid green and making it even harder than usual for him to look away from her. In fact, he had barely taken his eyes off of her the whole afternoon, and now into the evening here in the banquet reception room. It was a restored Victorian-era space with brick walls, iron-framed windows, and gorgeous crystal chandeliers with soft amber lighting that set the party aglow. There was a live band consisting of a female singer and all male musicians. Fittingly, the singer was American and her band was Irish. She had a soulful voice and had been finding the right mix of mellow and more upbeat songs all night.
“You know that thing you said about wanting to find for yourself the kind of love Gavin and I have?” Sophie asked.
“Yeah?”
“I really hope you do find it.”
“Well—”
“But you can’t play games with the one you’re with if she isn’t it.”
He sighed and cast an eye around for Sondra. She was at the far end of the hall, gesturing drunkenly with one arm as she steadied herself with the other around the neck of Kevin, an old friend from school who was just as drunk.
“That was a bit of a mistake, wasn’t it?” he said.
“The speech? Or bringing her?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
“Be sweet to her, if only for tonight.”
He watched Sophie for a moment. They were dancing to a slow song, their bodies close together. He felt the warmth of her hand in his, and the same warmth where her other hand rested delicately on his shoulder. In fact, the heat of her skin on his was almost enough to expose exactly how he felt about her if he wasn’t careful. Forcing himself to digest her last comment, he nodded.
“Of course. Whatever you think of me, I know how to be a gentleman.”
The song ended and within seconds a faster-paced one replaced it.
“I know that. You’re one of the best, Connie,” she said, and smiled before kissing him on the cheek.
He watched her move away. She was engulfed by the crowd on the dance floor, with everyone who saw her wanting to stop her, to have just a piece of her.
He knew how they felt. Any little piece would do, even if it was fleeting. He’d soak it up and funnel his longing and ache for her into music. The inspiration would have to be his solace.
57
SOPHIE
“Your mother knows how to dance!” Gavin said with a laugh.
Sophie raised her eyebrows, caught between admiration and embarrassment. Her mother had definitely been enjoying herself, dancing with anyone—or no one—for most of the night. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her mother dance before, but it couldn’t be a sudden, new passion.
The accepting attitude her parents had adopted in St. Moritz had disappeared once Sophie informed them a wedding date was set. They made it clear then that they believed marrying a rock star after such a short engagement was a recipe for disaster. They thought she was being too short-sighted. They would have loved for her to stay engaged indefinitely, or at least for as long as it would take to show that their instincts were right. They insisted that she needed more time to develop and keep her own identity. Sophie’s promise to them that she was still going to get her college degree didn’t help.
Still, they had both showed up with enough goodwill to be a part of making the day special. In the moment before walking Sophie down the aisle, her father told her something she knew she would always remember.
“Your mother and I, we were always so concerned with granting you your autonomy that we may have erred in not always treating you like the child you were. But we did the best we could. And I just,” he said, “I just want you to know that we do love you and we trust that you’ll find your way. You’ll have a husband after this. But you’ll always have us, too.”
It was the most emotional her father had ever been with her. But rather than affecting her to the point of tears, it set her mind at ease. It was such a reassuring moment that when she met Gavin to say their vows, she was never surer of what she was doing. She didn’t have any nervousness, didn’t waver. Her father’s words had set her free to simply be. And what she wanted to be was Gavin’s wife.
That’s what she was now and had been for the last four and a half hours. Now she and her husband—she tingled just thinking that word—were standing near the cake, waiting for the band’s song to end so they could do the traditional cake cutting. Her mother, having exhausted her father, was dancing with Christian, and both were having a blast. Everyone at the wedding, in fact, had been in good spirits from the start and they showed no sign of slowing down. It was wonderful to be surrounded by such positive energy.
“What are you thinking?” Gavin asked. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.
“That this has been the most amazing day of my life,” she said. “It almost feels like it can’t get much better than this.”
