I wrap my arms over his as he hugs me close. “It does,” I whisper back, overly conscious of Jem and Mike, whoare watching us as much as they’re watching the wedding proceedings.
“Well done.” Tristan’s lips tease my earlobe and chills break out over my skin, pebbling my nipples.
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve done much except stress. Jem’s an old hand at this, and the team is fantastic.”
“Good to know.” Tristan makes as if to pull away, but I stop him with some pressure on his arms. “I need to go work on my?—”
“I know. But stay for this; it’s the important part.”
“Lexi—”
“Sssshhhh…” Jem hisses, which is totally unnecessary. We are far enough away from the proceedings, and with the waves rushing up to shore, nobody can hear our whispers—nobody except Jem and Mike.
I close my eyes. I don’t need to hear the vows. Who doesn’t know them?From this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I promise to love and cherish you.
I can feel Tristan tense as the pastor’s voice carries toward us on the breeze.
The kiss-the-bride part follows, and finally I let Tristan pull away. Cheers rise from the guests, and Jem and Mike turn to us with smiles.
“That never gets old,” Mike says. “So when’s your big day?”
“I—”
“We—”
Tristan and I speak at the same time and then chuckle awkwardly.
“We haven’t set a date yet,” I tell them, trapped.
“Huh,” Jem huffs. “Couples had to be married in my day, but I suppose nowadays it’s hire first, fire later.”
What?
“Modern times,” Tristan says, putting a stop to the conversation. “I’ll see you later, babes.”
A last squeeze to my hip, and I watch him walk off, suddenly chilly in the cooler twilight air.
“What’s he going to work on now?” Jem asks. “Why doesn’t he stay for a glass of champagne? Don and Miriam never hesitated, you know, given that it’s the real stuff.”
“He’s probably tired,” I say, sidestepping the truth.
“Aren’t we all?” Jem’s tone raises not only my hackles, but also the fine hairs on my back.
That wasn’t a ghost passing: I would swear Jem is on to us, and I don’t know how the hell that happened. What did she mean—hire first, fire later? Is she going to send us packing if shestumbles on our secret? Jem could be jerking my chain for the fun of it. I don’t know her well enough to decipher that statement yet.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
TRISTAN
I’m so deep into edits, listening to music through my headphones, that I don’t hear the knock on the door. I startle when Lexi walks into my closet and rips me out of my underwater world.
“Sorry,” she says on a laugh as she leans against the door jamb. “I see you still have it in you to concentrate at this hour.”
“When you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life. Or so they say.”
“That much fun, uh?” She steps in and looks at my screen. “Show me?”
I press play on the clip I’m working on. It’s an octopus playing with a few cowrie shells. “First he has dinner; then he entertains himself with the leftovers. It would seem he has a collection of shells.” I watch with her for a half a minute, still equally enchanted. “It’s quite close up… I was lucky. Now you need to imagine it with some music and a voice-over and so on.”
