by Robyn Grady
Dex dug into a breast pocket and flicked out a clean white handkerchief for Cole. “For when the perspiration starts coursing down your face.”
“I’m not nervous.” Cole straightened his bow tie. “This is the best day of my life.”
“When you know it’s right, you know,” Dex said, and the two older brothers bumped shoulders before remembering themselves. They were happy, settled. Wynn was not.
Oh, for pity’s sake.
“I wish you two would stop going all goofy on me,” Wynn growled. “I thought you’d know by now—I’m over that other stuff.”
“Grace is a special woman,” Cole said sagely.
Dex followed up with, “You two give off some pretty intense sparks. As long as you’re both having fun. Right, Cole?”
But Cole’s attention was elsewhere. He straightened his tie again.
“My master of ceremonies just gave the signal. Taryn’s ready to come out.” Cole sent his brothers a fortifying wink. “See you on the other side, boys.”
* * *
Grace was figuring out the seating arrangements.
The only person she recognized in the first row, which was set aside for family, was a put-upon Eloise, who was draped in yellow chiffon and nursing a baby bump that looked more like a balloon ready to pop. Teagan was a bridesmaid and Tate, a page boy. Shelby wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Without Wynn to sit beside, Grace didn’t want to crash. Perhaps she ought to sit more toward the middle—neutral territory.
She was deciding on a row when, looking breathtaking in a glamorous single-shoulder, emerald-green gown, Shelby came rushing up.
“You’re sitting with me,” she said, indicating the second row before continuing on her way. “I’ll be back in a shake. Just want to give one of the best men a big kiss for good luck.”
Lowering onto the outermost chair of the row Shelby had indicated, Grace was perusing the leather-bound order of service when a man appeared at her side—the man Grace had seen Wynn speak with before taking his place beside his brothers on the platform.
“Is there room for one more?” the man asked.
He had a presence about him, Grace decided, which complemented his smooth baritone and kind hazel-colored eyes.
“Of course.” Grace moved over.
Settling in, the man rubbed both palms down his suit’s thighs before he glanced at her. “I’m feeling a little out of the circle.”
She returned his awkward smile. “Me, too.”
“I’m Sebastian Styles, by the way. The long-lost cousin.”
“Grace Munroe.” She added, “Third brother’s date.”
“I didn’t feel as if I should intrude today. It’s such a private affair. Smaller guest list than I’d even imagined.”
It wasn’t her place to ask how much Sebastian knew about the stalker business, so she merely agreed with his last point.
“At first, I declined the invite,” Sebastian said. “But Talbot and, apparently, Guthrie insisted.”
She nodded toward a couple in the front row. “Are they your parents?”
“That’s Leeanne—Talbot and Guthrie’s sister—and her husband, Stuart Somersby. Sitting alongside them are Josh and Naomi, their grown kids.”
From this vantage point, Josh looked to be in his early twenties with sandy-colored hair and strong Hunter features, including a hawkish nose. Biting her lip she was so excited, Naomi was younger and extremely attractive. Her tumble of pale blond hair was dotted with diamantés.
Perhaps having heard her name, Leeanne—a slender, stylish brunette—glanced over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers, hi. Sebastian and Grace wiggled back before he nodded toward a magnificent display of flowers where two men were discussing some obviously serious matter.
“That’s Talbot, my father, speaking with Guthrie.”
“Neither one looks happy.”
“I’m guessing it’s about the security. My father was none too pleased about being frisked so thoroughly at the door.” Sebastian’s brow creased before he hung his head and smiled. “My father. Still sounds weird.”
“I know everyone’s looking forward to meeting you.” She turned a little toward him. “Do you have a partner?”
His expression changed before he straightened in his seat. “No. Nothing like that.”
The music morphed into a moving tune that Cole and Taryn had chosen to kick off this all-important part of the day. When the bride appeared, on the arm of the woman who must be her Aunt Vi, a rush of happy tears sprang to Grace’s eyes. Who didn’t love a wedding?
Shelby appeared and Sebastian and Grace both shifted one seat over in the row.
Pressing a palm to her heart, Shelby whispered to them both. “What a gorgeous dress. She’s the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
Then Tate, in a tiny tux, and Teagan and another bridesmaid started off down the aisle and Grace sat back.
This was bound to be an amazing day.
* * *
Hours after the ceremony, during the reception that was also held inside the marquee, Grace caught a glimpse of Teagan. She stood behind a massive, decorative column, a cell phone pressed to her ear. Biting a nail, she looked upset enough to cry.
The music filtered through the sound system, drawing lots of couples onto the dance floor. Grace had just finished speaking with a couple—Christopher Riggs’s parents, as a matter of fact—lovely people who seemed pleased their son was moving forward with his life in New York.
Grace had been ready to join Wynn, who appeared to be enjoying his conversation with his new cousin. Now, Grace hurried over to Teagan.
“You’re upset,” she said as Teagan disconnected her call.
“That guy I’ve been telling you about...” Teagan tacked up a weak smile. “He’s missing me.”
Grace let out a sigh of relief. That wasn’t bad. That was sweet. Grace had wanted to learn more about Teagan’s guy but when her friend hadn’t brought the subject up again, Grace didn’t want to prod.
Now she said, “Looks like you’re missing him, too.”
Beneath the marquee’s slow-spinning lights, Teagan’s gaze grew distant and her jaw tensed, as if she were trying to keep from frowning.
“Guess I’ve gotten used to having him around. Except...I can’t see things working out between us. Not in the long term.”
“Because he wants lots of children?”
Teagan nodded.
Teagan’s guy sounded a lot like Sam, Grace thought. Difference was that Teagan obviously cared deeply for this man in the way a future wife should.
“So, he’s proposed?” Grace asked.
“Not yet. And I don’t want him to. Like I said, it’s complicated. I was going to talk with you more about it, but...”
“You don’t have to explain—”
“I want to.” She took Grace’s champagne flute and downed half the glass—a big deal, given that Teagan didn’t usually drink.
After a visible shudder, Teagan handed the glass back. “That accident I had all those years ago...”
They’d spoken about that, too, these past days. “You were in and out of hospital.”
“I missed so much school. Mom and Dad tried to make it up to me. I had every material thing a girl would wish for. I think they knew pretty much from the start. I found out later.” Her lips pressed together and, staring off at the people dancing, she blinked several times. “I can’t have children.”
The words hung in the air between them before Grace’s heart sank to her knees. She gripped her friend’s hand. She’d never dream for one minute...
“Oh, Tea...”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I’m used to the idea. There’s plenty of other things in life to keep a person focused and busy.”
“Maybe if you spoke to him. There are options.”
“Sure. Great ones. But you’d have to meet him, Grace. I look at him and know he’s destined to have boys with his strong chin and the same sparkling blue eyes.” Her wistful expression hardened. “He deserves everything he wants from life.”
“Speak with him,” Grace implored.
Teagan’s chin lifted even as she smiled. “I’m fine with who I am. I don’t want anyone’s pity. I’ve had enough of that in my life. I certainly don’t want to put him in a position where he feels he has to choose.”
Between marrying the woman he loved and marrying someone else who could bear his children?
Grace remembered those hours she and Teagan had spent as kids playing with baby dolls, pretending to feed and rock and diaper change. Grace took for granted that when she was happily settled and tried to get pregnant, she wouldn’t have trouble. Of course, adoption and surrogates had proven wonderful alternatives for so many couples who couldn’t conceive. Although Teagan said she was used to the idea of being unable to conceive, something in her eyes said that this minute, she found acceptance hard.
When the music faded, both women’s attentions were drawn by some commotion playing out on the marquee’s platform. Taryn was getting ready to toss her bouquet. So Grace put her conversation with Teagan aside. If her friend ever wanted to talk more, Grace would be available, even from halfway around the world.
Having composed herself, Teagan tipped her head toward the gathering and put on a brave face. “Are you having a go?”
“Last time I was involved with a bouquet, I got way more than I bargained for.”
Teagan grinned. Grace had told her about that kiss at the reception.
“I’m rooting for Shelby,” Teagan said. “But I’ll help make up the numbers.”
When Teagan and the other eligible women were positioned on the dance floor, Taryn spun around and then threw her bouquet. The flowers sailed a few yards before Shelby, using her height advantage, snatched them out of the air. As people cheered, Dex marched up to her. Pride shining from his face, he dipped his fiancée in a dramatic pose before kissing her. All the wedding crowd sighed, including Grace.
Those two seemed so right for each other. It was as if all their edges and emotions were two halves of a whole.
At first, Grace had been hesitant about coming to Australia, to this event. She’d worried she might need to defend the fact that she and Wynn weren’t serious the way Cole and Taryn were. The way people had assumed she and Sam had been.
And yet, with all these sentimental feelings surrounding her now, Grace felt as if she were falling into that very trap herself. In these couple of weeks, she felt so connected to Wynn.
From the platform, the DJ asked the women to move aside. Cole was preparing to throw the bride’s garter.
Wynn stood at the back of the pack. When he caught sight of her, he sent over a wave an instant before Dex grabbed both his brother’s arms and, fooling around, struggled to hold them behind Wynn’s back. Grace laughed even as her chest tightened. Like the bouquet, tradition said that the person who caught the garter was meant to marry next. Dex would want to catch the garter and slip it on his fiancée’s leg. But, as he wrangled free of Dex’s hold and prepared to leap, Wynn seemed just as determined. A competitive spirit.
Or something more?
Teagan joined her. No one would guess that she’d been close to tears a few minutes ago.
“Look at those brothers of mine.” When Dex tried to body block Wynn, Wynn elbowed his way in front again and Teagan laughed. “I’ve never seen Wynn have so much fun as he has this trip. These past months, whenever we’ve spoken on the phone, he’s been so distant.” Teagan wound her arm through Grace’s. “Then you came along.”
Grace looked at her twice. Right there was the kind of comment she hadn’t wanted to deal with during this trip. Wynn had lost the woman he had wanted to marry. Grace hadn’t wanted to come across as anyone’s replacement. She was still working through her own past.
And yet, something inside her had shifted. Something had changed.
Up on the stage, the groom knelt before his new bride and slipped the garter off her leg. As he held it above his head, the bullpen erupted with calls to begin.
The DJ revved them up more. “Guys, are you ready?”
A roar went up, the groom about-faced, and then the garter went flying at the same time as Wynn’s heels grew wings. He caught the garter on a single finger. Feet back on the ground, he accepted slaps on the back from his peers. Meanwhile, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Tate scooting through the pack and climbing the steps to the platform. He’d been having a blast dancing up there most of the night.
Wynn ambled over to her and dropped to one knee. The room hushed and all eyes fell upon them. Grace shrank back. This all had a familiar ring to it.
“Heel up here,” Wynn demanded and slapped his raised thigh.
And have everyone ask later whether they’d set a date? That was going too far. She shook her head.
He sent her a devilish smile. “Guess I could always wear it as a headband.” When he widened the garter and threatened to fit it around his crown, the crowd exploded with laughter. “You can’t disappoint everyone.” His voice lowered and gaze deepened. “Don’t disappoint me.”
The DJ stepped in, egging her on, and the crowd got on board. Wynn’s expression wasn’t teasing now. It was...solemn.
Grace’s heart was booming in her chest, in her ears. This display was sending the wrong message.
Or was it just a bit of fun? With all the room smiling at them, she couldn’t help but smile herself.
She placed one shoe on his knee. He slipped the garter up over her toes to just above the knee and then, holding her gaze with his, pushed to his feet. Rather than applaud, their audience was hushed. Were the guests aware of the energy pulsating between the two of them?
“Know what this calls for?” he asked.
She felt almost giddy. “A modest bow?”
Of course, his arms wound around her, and when his lips touched hers, any urge she might have had to push away, tell him to behave, faded into longing. She hadn’t wanted to be the center of attention. She didn’t want people to peg her into yet another hole. And yet...
Sensations gathered, vibrating through her body and spilling out like ripples from the sweetest sounding bell. For the slightest fragment in time, she believed that the fireworks going off in her mind and through her blood were so powerful that they physically shook the room.
Then a different reality struck, and the crowd began to scream.
Eleven
The force from the blast almost knocked Wynn over.
With the noise from the explosion ringing in his ears, he spun around. A piece of debris smacked his cheek as a haze of dark smoke erupted from somewhere near the platform. He remembered who had been standing there a second earlier and his stomach crashed to his knees.
He turned to Grace. “Get out of here. Run!”
With a hacking cough, she gripped his arm. “Tate’s over there.”
He knew it. He spun her around.
“Go!”
He headed toward the smoke by the platform, at the same time checking out the rest of the area. Guests smeared with dust and debris were charging toward the exit. He couldn’t see Cole or Dex but, glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of Taryn and Shelby helping Grace outside. Chances were his brothers were somewhere searching in this smoke, too.
With sparks spitting against his face, his nostrils burning and surrounded by the smell of his own singed hair, he leapt onto the platform. A pint-size silhouette—Tate?—stood frozen off to one side. If he’d been knocked down, he was on his feet again now. He’d be disorientated, possibly injured.
Wynn was bolt
ing across when another explosion went off—different from the first. It was the electrical equipment shorting. Catching fire. Flames spewed out from the area where the DJ had set up. Heat radiated from the fire, searing Wynn’s back as Tate’s smudged, frightened face appeared in the smoke. His little hands were covering his ears. His eyes were clamped shut. Lunging, Wynn heaved Tate up against his chest, holding him close with one arm.
He was jumping off the creaking platform when Brandon materialized out of the chaos, holding an extinguisher. Brandon acknowledged Tate before disappearing back into the haze.
A moment later, Wynn was out in the sunshine, legs pumping toward the house where many of the startled guests had gathered. Security men were herding them back. Teagan was on her cell, presumably to emergency services, although he was certain one of Brandon’s men would have sent up the alarm already. Teagan was also consoling Eloise, who was visibly shaken. When Teagan saw Tate, she covered her mouth to catch a gasp of relief. Dropping her phone, she put out her arms.
As Wynn passed the boy over, he did a quick check. Tate’s little dress shirt was gray from the smoke, but Wynn didn’t see any blood. The child’s eyes were still closed, his face slack. Poor kid must have fainted.
While Teagan cradled Tate, Eloise seemed to emerge from her stupor. She brought both Teagan and Tate close, hugging them as much as her belly would allow. Wynn spun away, searching for Grace. And then, familiar arms were around him and she was saying, “Thank God you’re out. Thank God you’re safe.”
He pulled her back, looked into her eyes. Grace was shaken but unhurt.
The screams of sirens bled in over the noise of the fire that had eaten through the marquee’s ceiling. He gripped her arms. “I’m going back in.”
As he pulled away, she tried to hold him back. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. They said, Please, please, don’t go. During that beat in time, he remembered her ex had been a firefighter; if he had died in an accident, Wynn guessed it had been a blaze. But today he had no choice.
He couldn’t see his father anywhere. Cole and Dex must be inside that trap, too. Engines were on their way, but there were extinguishers in there; Brandon had gone through safety procedures thoroughly with them before the guests had arrived and now his team needed help.
