Brianna enters the main restaurant through the side door, sweeping across the floor and drawing every pair of male eyes over the age of ten. There doesn’t appear to be an upper limit to her attractions since Bevan Woods gapes openly and he must be edging above ninety.
I sigh, staring at the curve of her neck as she lifts her hair, letting my father double check the fastening on her necklace. I wish I had the golden locks that cascade like a molten spill of precious metal down her back.
“Needing to be the centre of attention, as usual,” Gabriel mutters. I’m not sure why he dislikes my stepmother, and I’d never admit it to anyone, but I find the unwarranted hatred reassuring.
“Who’s he?” Marigold asks, pointing in the opposite direction just like our childhood etiquette teacher explicitly taught us not to.
When I turn, my heart skips a beat before rushing to catch up again. A man strides across the floor of the restaurant, running fingers through his loose curls before he moves his hand away and they tumble back over his face.
His dark suit is so well-tailored it hugs the musculature of his body like the fabric was made from oil. Heavy gold cufflinks match to the gold chain that disappears into the two-buttons-undone v of his shirt.
Trouble radiates off him like body heat. He sucks up all the space in the room. His features are… amazing. Breath-taking.Familiar.
Gabriel gives an annoyed grunt. “That’s Micah.” While speaking the words, he sounds even more unhappy than usual.
In solidarity, I immediately hate the man. Before I even know him.
Wait.
“Micah?Your olderbrother?”
“One and the same.”
No wonder he looks familiar. I must have seen his face in a dozen photographs. “I thought he was…” My words trail away as I flounder for a polite way of saying it.
“In jail,” Marigold finishes for me, sounding weirdly delighted by the idea. “I heard he got sent down for twenty.”
“At least twenty,” I add, dredging my memory for any more pertinent facts. “Didn’t he—?” I break off at the signs of distress crossing Gabriel’s face. “I’m sorry. It must be hard having him home.”
“He’d certainly make things hard,” Marigold says with barely restrained enjoyment. “How’d he get free so early? I’ve heard of good behaviour, but that’s ridiculous.”
“Everything you’ve heard is ridiculous,” Gabriel snaps. “He wasn’t convicted of anything, and nobody sentenced him to prison. They were holding him on remand, that’s all. The case fell apart.”
I put a hand on his shoulder, resting there as a comfort. “Wasn’t he living somewhere else before that? What’s he doing back here?”
“Yeah. He’s worked up in Auckland since leaving school. I don’t know what he’s doing back down here.” His expression darkens even further as he adds, “Unless my dad had something to do with hisunexpectedrelease.”
“He’s still single?” Marigold asks, not even trying to hide her interest.
Gabriel gives a non-committal snort that both my friend and I take as a yes.
“His suit is sharp,” she says with a low whistle. Then she elbows me in the side. “I’m just off to have a word with Mum.”
“Marigold…”
“What?” she asks, playing innocent.
“I spent a long time on the seating arrangements tonight. Don’t you dare—”
“Gotta go. Bye.”
She skips away with a flutter of her hand and ducks through double doors that lead into the kitchen, a place where she knows the staff won’t let me follow.
“My dad’s calling me,” Gabriel says, pulling me close to lay a kiss on my forehead before he walks away. I hope tonight he’ll kiss me elsewhere. Maybe not in the places I’m still afraid to explore in case God’s really watching, but on the lips at least. His restraint is admirable, but soon we won’t need to wait.
“Why are you hovering in the corner?” Brianna asks, coming out of nowhere to stand by my side. “You should be having fun with your friends. Where’ve they got to?”
I guess she’s trying to be a good… something. Role model is a stretch, but a friend. Or friendly, anyway. The one blessing since the wedding is that she hasn’t tried to step into a motherly role.
