When the song came to an end, there was a gentle tap on his shoulder, and Aberlour knew who it was from the radiance of the bride’s smile.
“She’s all yours,” Aberlour told Marcus as he stepped away from his wife. Marcus thanked him and took hold of his wife with much more assurance than Abe had.
He watched them from the edge of the room, leaning on the balcony of the vineyard outdoor space. They were beautiful.
“She’s far too good for him,” Oliver said, his voice bubbly and light like champagne.
“He knows,” Aberlour replied, shooting his best friend a cheeky smile.
Oliver’s face was flushed, having danced more than most anyone else. He’d loosened his tie, and the two last buttons of his shirt were popped open.
“Where’s your dance partner?” Aberlour asked, pretending to look around.
“Back with her husband,” Oliver said as though he was sad.
“Don’t worry, Darling, we’ll find you someone else to dance with,” Abe said with mock sincerity, deliberately avoiding looking at Oliver as he spoke, or he’d burst out laughing.
“Promises, promises!”
They snuck out a few moments later. They didn’t dare hold hands, but they walked side-by-side, their elbows brushing, heading towards the bathroom. Although they weren’t dancing, their footwork was impressive as they navigated the small individual bathroom and their layers of clothing. They could still hear the music, and their rapid breaths kept time with the fast waltz as they pressed against the walls and panted skin to skin. Outside, a woman called for a toast, but her voice was muffled and Aberlour couldn’t hear much over Oliver’s moans anyway.
They barely made it back in time for Oli to give his own toast to the bride and groom. Stepping up to the mic, looking slightly disheveled and his tie undone, Oli was smiling, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He really hadn’t had time to fix himself up after his hookup, and he was pretty sure it showed.
“Is that a hickey?” Carlos asked. He’d stopped eating long enough to listen to the various toasts, and was staring at Oliver with his head cocked, eyes wide with amusement.
“The slag bastard,” JD said. He’d made it back from his own hookup, and his fiancé was sitting in his lap, looking gorgeous in her lavender gown.
“Who gave it to him?” Ghost asked, always the practical one.
“I saw a few of the bridesmaids chasing after him,” Caroline said conspiratorially.
“Bet you that’s why his tie’s undone,” Carlos commented.
“Maybe he can find you a friend, Abe,” JD said, giving his bicep a gentle tap.
Aberlour rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
“I can get laid all on my own. Thanks, anyway.”
“Figures,” Carlos said, shaking his head. “You’re such a grumpy old man.”
Aberlour had heard that line before, so he didn’t bother arguing, or pointing out that Carlos was two years older than he was.
“Actually, it’s kind of hot,” Caroline said, shrugging when JD shot her a look of shock.
“Traitor!” Carlos said, shaking his head. “You aren’t even married yet,” he scolded her without any real heat.
Ghost smiled softly, amused but silent. He turned to look over the crowd. His daughter had wandered off to go charm a few grandmothers and, while she was perfectly safe, he kept her within his line of sight.
Suddenly, the crowd began clapping loudly, making them all jump. They hadn’t listened to a single word of Oliver’s speech.
“How’d I do?” Oli asked, as he sat down at the table next to Abe. His eyes shining with amusement, champagne, and love.
“Amazing,” JD replied.
“Chef’s kiss,” Carlos said.
“You write really well,” Ghost said, with a gentle smile.
