“Insurance.”
“But I don’t want this—I don’t want any. I only want you.”
He smiled. “I know. That’s why it stays.”
26
Ray
The days slippedby faster once we were back in San Francisco, and Max and Ila’s wedding dawned to a beautiful, bright, and sunshiny Saturday.
Mom and Dad had checked into the Ritz Carlton on Wednesday for rehearsals. Then on Friday, Ila and I had gone to stay with them since Dad would give Ila away. It was better this way, and we both got to spend time with our parents.
I smoothed my bridesmaid gown with nervous hands while we waited in the vestibule of Grace Cathedral a few minutes before the ceremony began.
My breath hitched again, recalling Vegas, and what had happened there. I rubbed my bare ring finger. I’d given Jack the band to keep until I could wear it again.
My marriage still appeared as if it were a dream. I hadn’t come down from that cloud yet. But this distance was hard to endure, especially with Jack deciding to hold off with the phone calls between us, too. I hated that, but the truth was, it made it more believable because the separation was visibly getting to me.
I’d seen him at rehearsals. The hardest thing was pretending and trying to ignore Ila’s confused looks when Jack and I didn’t interact much. Max and War hadn’t said anything, just watched us. I had no idea if they knew Jack’s plans, becauseIwas still in the dark.
“What happened?” my sister hissed after the final rehearsal Friday night, and we were on our way to the Carlton. Mom and Dad had already left for the hotel. “Even at the rehearsal dinner last night, you two stayed so far apart when usually Jack can’t seem to leave you alone.”
“We decided to take things easy.”
“My left foot,” she muttered. “Ray, you and Jack would sear anyone within a mile with the scorching chemistry between you, so don’t give me hogwash about taking it slow. That night, a few weeks ago, at the loft, I felt it.”
I wanted to smile. “It’s nothing, I swear. We’re simply keeping things low-key. It’s your wedding, after all, no need to put the spotlight on us. There’s time for that later.”
“Huh-uh.” She cut me a dark stare. “I still call hogwash. We’re talking as soon as the wedding is over.”
That’s what she thought.
Max was whisking her off to Italy for a three-week honeymoon.
However, I knew we had to tell my parents and Nigel the truth about us soon, especially with Margo’s threat looming over me. Maybe after the wedding. Hopefully, Jack would have everything would be sorted out by then, and they’d understand why we’d done what we had and kept it quiet.
“Ready?” Dad asked Ila, drawing me back as Charli straightened Ila’s veil again. I hurried over to make sure her train was smoothed out.
My sister smiled, then nodded. “Yes.”
She looked breathtaking in her ivory, off-the-shoulder, fitted satin gown with its flowing skirt and yard-long train. Her hair had been pulled up in a loose, messy bun, with tendrils framing her happy face. Tiny flowers were woven into her tresses and secured the wisp of chiffon she wore as a veil that flowed to the floor.
My and Charli’s gowns were simple replicas of hers, off-the-shoulder sheaths in burgundy satin with a slit up one leg. Charli waited beside me, looking about as nervous as the bride.
“I’m sure War doesn’t bite,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. While trying to stay away from Jack, I’d watched them during rehearsal. War hadn’t left her side. At all. It reminded me a little of Jack when he came after me.
The music started.
Breathing deeply, I cast a quick smile at Ila and my father then headed out first and down the aisle to where the burly, white-robed clergy waited on the raised dais to officiate. The groom and his two best men stood to his left.
Wow. They totally rocked their morning suits. Black tailcoats, dark gray pants with matching vests, and white dress shirts offset with matte, metallic gray ties.
My smile wavered, and my fingers tightened on the long-stemmed bouquet of pale-yellow calla lilies tied with a ribbon as I recalled my wedding in Vegas. It should have been like this for me, but the horrible woman had robbed me of that.
Max gave me a quick smile, then went back to watching the entrance. As I met Jack’s quiet stare, I forgot my disappointment—forgot Margo Blackstone’s icy orbs pinned on me from the third row. In his elegant morning suit, Jack looked stern and impossibly handsome.
