Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss #4)

by Nalini Singh

  When they arrived, it was to find three very hungover men nursing black coffees strong enough to strip paint. They groaned at seeing Abe.

  “Don’t tell us,” Fox begged. “I don’t even want to know how I ended up with a goddamn daisy on my ass.”

  Abe’s grin was evil. “You actually wanted a bunny rabbit.”

  Fox banged his head on the table. “Never again. Never, ever again.”

  Leaving the men to commiserate over their misspent night, Sarah went to find Thea and the other women. It turned out the bride-to-be had spent the morning laughing too. “My poor David. He looked so befuddled when I pointed out his new ink.” Eyes dancing, she shook her head. “Thank God Abe sent David’s younger brothers home early though.”

  Thea’s mother came bustling in right then, with Thea’s sisters in her wake.

  Sarah adored Thea’s family. They just enfolded everyone in love until it was impossible to do anything but smile. After seeing Sarah’s belly the first day, Thea’s mom plied her with food anytime she was in the vicinity, to give her a “fat, happy baby.” She also buried her in childrearing advice. It was wonderful. Especially since Abe’s mom and David’s were also present, having flown in a few days earlier to relax. All three of them treated Sarah with maternal affection, but it was with Diane that she had the strongest bond; she knew she could ask Abe’s mom anything.

  By the time the wedding rolled around the next day, Sarah felt as if she’d been talking and laughing nonstop for twenty-four hours and counting. If Molly and Fox’s rock-and-roll backyard wedding had been them, Thea and David’s traditional and family-oriented fusion wedding was just as perfect for the drummer and the publicist.

  The small wedding pavilion had been raised slightly and set up on lush green lawn beside a lake, fine gold curtains tied to the four sturdy poles that held up the white-painted structure, and the carpet a haunting blue. Guests sat in chairs that allowed a direct view of the pavilion, the decorations along the aisle and around the pavilion simple white splashed with color from hundreds of fresh flowers.

  Their scents filled the air.

  David stood waiting outside the pavilion, his suit a sharp black with a pristine white shirt and a tie of deep gold. His groomsmen—Fox, Abe, and Noah, plus David’s two handsome younger brothers—were wearing identical suits except their shirts and ties were black.

  Sarah ran her eye over Abe. She’d fixed his jacket for him a little earlier, before she came to take her seat between Kit and Diane. Beautiful man.

  “We got lucky, didn’t we, Sarah?”

  Sarah turned at Kit’s comment to see that the actress’s distinctive amber eyes were on a certain blond guitarist who stood beside Fox. “Yes,” she said, just as lyrical music began to play.

  She saw David’s entire face light up as he turned to watch for Thea, and then they were all rising to their feet and angling their heads toward the arbor through which Thea would descend. Sunshine poured down onto it from the other side.

  Framed within the light was a breathtaking bride on her proud father’s arm.

  Sarah sucked in a breath.

  She’d seen Thea during the morning pamper session for the ladies, but this…

  Tall and slender, Thea looked like she’d stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine but for the deeply unsophisticated delight on her face. Her “dress” was actually a sari of rich gold silk shot with metallic threads of vibrant cerise, the neatly fitted blouse she wore beneath it the same cerise. Embroidered bands of gold circled the cap sleeves of the top.

  The part of the sari that fell over her shoulder had been lifted up and draped stunningly over her intricately dressed hair, held in place by fine gold jewelry that ended with a teardrop of filigreed gold at the top of her forehead. The way she wore the sari was more traditional than Sarah would’ve expected of the stylish and urbane publicist if she hadn’t known that Thea had taken her grandparents’ views into account.

  Sarah had asked Thea if she minded, but the publicist had smiled and shaken her head. “For me, a wedding is about family. I could never hurt my grandparents by not respecting their wishes.” Another beaming smile. “As well as all my sisters and my best friend, I took both my grandmas with me to choose the wedding sari—both of them! My mom too.” She’d shaken her head. “Let’s just say those three women have opinions.”

  “Someone with more opinions than you?”

  A wink. “Maybe not.” Thea had run her fingers over the sari, her expression poignant. “I love this outfit. It stands for me and for the people who made me who I am today. I could want nothing more.”

  Molly, and Thea’s best friend, Imani, walked behind Thea with a number of other family members, including Thea’s two younger sisters—who were smiling hard enough to crack their faces. Everyone wore vibrant color, with Thea having gifted Molly and Imani with saris of deep cerise and indigo blue to wear to the wedding since they were part of the bridal party.

  Her aunts had taken charge of putting the two women in the traditional garment.

  In her hands, Thea carried a garland of lush pink and white blooms that matched the one David had in his hands when Sarah glanced back to the men.

  Thea’s mom had provided the flowers for those garlands. She was also the one who’d tucked lush white blooms behind Kit, Molly, Imani, and Sarah’s ears. And it was Thea’s paternal grandmother who’d lent the bride her earrings of polished seashells. Given her income, Thea could’ve dripped with gemstones, but she wore those old, beloved earrings with pride.

  Sarah’s eyes stung as she watched the other woman pass. Thea’s own eyes were only for David; she seemed wholly unaware of the gasps in the audience, of the photos being taken. As at Molly’s wedding, Sarah couldn’t help but remember her own wedding day. Unlike Thea’s elegant sari, her dress had been big and poofy and sparkly, the kind of Cinderella dress of which she’d always dreamed and that she’d thought was the height of fashion at twenty-one.

  She bit back a smile as she sat down with everyone else; her marriage might’ve imploded, but Sarah had never regretted that dress.

  Thea reached David.

  Exchanging garlands, they linked hands and stepped into the wedding pavilion.

  The ceremony was simple and heartrendingly beautiful, a blend of the traditional and the new, of David’s cultural mores as well as Thea’s. No one could miss the love David wore on his sleeve—and Thea, this tough, strong woman, she wore her own love for the drummer as openly.

  Sarah dabbed away a tear, emotion thick in her throat. And smiled at seeing the way Thea’s sisters giggled as David leaned in to kiss his new wife.

  “Wouldn’t it be cute if once they were grown, Thea’s sisters ended up with David’s brothers?” she whispered to Kit, the romantic in her loving the idea.

  “I heard the two girls talking this morning,” Kit murmured. “They were giggling and saying how David’s brothers were ‘super cute.’” A sparkling smile. “So you never know.”

  A heartbeat later, they all rose to congratulate the happy couple, clapping and crowding around to take photos. Sarah stayed back, careful of the peanut, but Abe found her and got her through the crowd so she could offer her delighted congratulations.

  Thea returned her heartfelt hug with gentle arms. Her joy in being married to David was incandescent, the way the two kept touching their fingers to each other’s a silent statement of togetherness. In between, David exchanged back-slapping hugs with his family members and bandmates, his grin so deep that it might well carve permanent grooves in his cheeks.

  Sarah sniffed again.

  Sighing, Abe handed her a pristine handkerchief. “I bought it for the waterworks.”

  She elbowed him. “Shuddup.”

  He pressed a kiss to her curls. “Softie.”

  Sarah melted.

  She’d felt a bittersweet joy at Molly and Fox’s wedding, happy for the other couple but sad that she and Abe had broken. This time she could almost imagine walking down the aisle
all over again with the only man who had ever owned her heart.

  It scared her in a beautiful way.

  CHAPTER 36

  AFTER THE HAPPY ROMANCE OF BALI—AND the relatively low-key response when news of the pregnancy first broke—it was a shock to return home to endless paparazzi cameras and judgmental articles that implied Sarah had “lured” Abe back, then “trapped” him. Sarah knew she shouldn’t read those articles, but she wasn’t superhuman. Sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

  “Do you feel trapped?” she asked Abe sharply one morning while they were still in bed.

  Yawning, he opened one eye. “What?”

  “By the fact I’m pregnant.” Sarah glared at him.

  He groaned and reached over to close a hand over her thigh under the sheet. That thigh was naked because she somehow always ended up naked around Abe. She’d pulled the sheet up over her breasts and tucked it under her arms, but beneath it she was as bare as the day she’d been born.

  “Abe, stop stroking my thigh and answer the question.”

  “I am answering it.” He scowled at her. “Why the fuck would I feel trapped when I get to wake up to you every morning?”

  Sarah’s lower lip quivered.

  “Aw, shit.” Rising up into a seated position against the headboard, he ran a hand over her hair before tugging her gently toward his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to growl at you.”

  Sarah snuggled up to his chest, not even sure why she was crying. His answer had been wonderful, romantic. “I’m so pregnant!” she wailed.

  “Definitely.” Abe sounded like he was smiling.

  She thumped a fist against his chest. “Stop laughing.”

  Chuckling openly now, he wrapped both arms around her. “I can’t help it. You’re finally doing the hormonal pregnant-woman thing.” Pushing one hand into her hair, he tugged up her head and kissed away her tears before coaxing her into a slow, deep kiss. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Feeling all wrung out and yet oddly happy, Sarah smiled. “Good morning, gorgeous.” She petted his pecs, sighed over just how pretty he was.

  “Um, thanks?”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “I don’t know if I like being described as pretty. Noah’s pretty. I’m ruggedly handsome.”

  Sarah hadn’t realized she’d said the words aloud, but now she smiled and pressed a kiss to the closest part of his chest. “Pretty Abe.”

  “If you weren’t pregnant…” His threat lost all force when he kissed her, the tenderness of the touch making her eyes tear up all over again.

  “Sweetheart.” Expression darkening, Abe shook his head. “For the record and so you don’t ever have to think about it again: I don’t feel trapped. Far from it. Fuck, Sarah, I want to trap you. Forever. I want my ring back on your finger and I want to wear yours and I want the world to know you’re mine.”

  Shock froze her tears, turned her breathless. “Did you just…”

  “Ask you to marry me again?” Abe nodded. “I was planning to wait until you were more sure of me, but I don’t ever want you to worry about why I’m here. I’m here because I want to be here.”

  Rubbing at her eyes, Sarah sat back on her haunches.

  Abe’s eyes went immediately to her nude breasts.

  She blushed and picked up the edge of the sheet to shield herself, not because she didn’t love the way Abe looked at her but because she wanted to talk… Yet she didn’t know what to say. That was when she realized that the fear that had hit her before Bali was still there, a wary shadow she couldn’t quite shake, a shadow formed of a lifetime of pain and neglect and loss.

  Deep inside, where she tried not to look, she was so afraid this was all a mirage that would disappear if she reached out and tried to claim even more happiness for herself and their baby.

  And last time around, the best part of their relationship had been before marriage. What if history repeated itself? What if they simply weren’t built to be husband and wife?

  I want my ring back on your finger and I want to wear yours and I want the world to know you’re mine.

  The memory of his words stopped her heart all over again.

  Dark eyes held her own.

  Mute, she dropped the sheet and leaned toward Abe. He took her invitation, loved her with tender hands and a raw need that made her feel so wanted it almost hurt.

  SEVEN WEEKS LATER AND SARAH STILL hadn’t given Abe an answer, the words locked inside her throat by that quiet, insidious fear she couldn’t shake off. But other than that visceral fear that held her back from saying yes, being eight months pregnant was glorious. The peanut no longer had enough room inside her to keep on playing football. These days it was all sharp pokes with a tiny elbow or foot and what felt like impatient twisting as the baby tried to get comfortable.

  Which could get uncomfortable for her, but Sarah loved the sign that their little rock baby was alive and thriving. Sometimes when she petted the part of Peanut’s body that was jabbing at her, she got a response. Last time, it was Abe who’d done it—and it had felt as if the baby was playing with him—pulling back, then pushing out again.

  Abe’s expression had been priceless, fascinated and astonished both.

  “You sure you want to do this?” her lover murmured now in the back of the limo that was ferrying them to an early evening party. It was to celebrate the birthday of a record executive who’d helped Schoolboy Choir sign their first deal.

  “We’ll go for a little while.” She closed her hand over his thigh, the fabric of his black pants slightly rough. “I feel like seeing our friends, and I know Marty’s important to you all.”

  Abe’s knuckles brushing her cheek. “Not as important as you.”

  She’d become almost used to those words. Never would she take them for granted, but she believed them now, knew Abe meant what he said. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready to go home,” she promised. “Mostly I plan to find a comfortable spot and chat with Molly and the other women.” Sarah knew they wouldn’t leave her alone; they never did at such events.

  It was wonderfully strange to find herself circled so protectively by Abe’s tribe… that was now also part of her tribe. “I also have a bone to pick with Noah about the ice cream he brought over last week.” Sarah hadn’t been able to stop eating the stuff. “He’s responsible for at least five extra pounds.”

  Abe nuzzled her. “I don’t see any extra pounds.” One big hand shaping her hip. “How about you get naked and show me where they are?”

  Giggling like a teenager and feeling far too carefree for a woman who was currently eight months pregnant, she bit playfully at his ear. “Limo’s stopped.”

  The driver opened the back passenger-side door half a minute later.

  Murmuring, “We’ll pick this up at home,” Abe exited, then helped her out.

  Her dress flowed around her. Sarah had tried on more formfitting formal gowns that showed off her bump, but as with the gown she’d worn to the awards ceremony, she loved the softer lines of this strapless dress. It hugged her breasts with some spectacular tailoring that involved crisscrossing pieces of fabric, then flowed down in heavy lines that suited the deep midnight blue of the material.

  Molly had found the gown for her in a store that sold vintage gowns from Hollywood’s golden era. She’d gifted it to Sarah for her birthday, sweetly happy that Sarah loved it so much. The best thing was that it’d be easy to tailor it to suit her post-pregnancy body too.

  As for jewelry, having swept her hair into an updo that exposed her neck and shoulders, Sarah had chosen to wear statement earrings of heavy silver.

  That, however, wasn’t what she was actually wearing. Because Abe had surprised her with another set of statement earrings tonight—and these were created of diamonds. Not just transparent diamonds of perfect clarity but also vibrant pink diamonds that were a glorious accent to her gown. The earrings sparkled and caught the light and were no doubt ridiculously expensive, but what Sarah loved most about t
hem was that Abe had admitted to spending hours in two different jewelry stores in an effort to find exactly the right pair for her dress.

  Even had they clashed terribly, she’d have worn them.

  Curling her hand around his biceps, she admired his own form. He’d chosen to pair a fitted black shirt with his black pants. The shirt hugged his pecs and arms and made her want to jump his bones. She wasn’t the only one, she saw when they joined the party. Several women made eyes at him.

  Abe rubbed her lower back. “It’s not too crowded at least.”

  Ignoring the women trying to flirt with him when it was obvious Abe wasn’t interested, Sarah glanced around. “Is that Kit over there?”

  Abe followed her line of sight. “Yeah. Noah’s with her.”

  ABE BEGAN TO WEAVE HIS WAY THROUGH THE LARGE ROOM, careful to keep Sarah always in the protective curve of his arm. For the most part, people didn’t get in his way—there were some advantages to being a big guy with tattoos and a visible piercing.

  “Abe, Sarah.”

  Abe stopped and exchanged handshakes with Marty, after which the tall, thin man leaned toward Sarah and accepted her kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday,” she said and lifted the little bag she was holding.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Marty said, though his tanned-to-honey-brown skin flushed in pleasure. “I asked for donations to the scholarship fund I help administer.”

  “We did that,” Sarah reassured the other man. “But everyone should get presents on their birthday, even if it’s just a small thing.”

  Unhidden delight in his eyes, Marty took the bag. “Can I look?”

  “Of course,” Sarah said, her hand not on her belly but curved below it, as if she was supporting it.

  Digging inside the gift bag, Marty came up with a small but rather battered jewelry box of deep red. He looked curious rather than dismayed. Abe was curious too. Having no idea what the hell to get a man who was filthy rich and whom Abe knew only from the music world as opposed to a personal friendship, he’d left it up to Sarah.