On Best Behavior (C3)

by Jennifer Lane

  In her deep purple bridesmaid gown, Anita looked back and gave her a thumbs-up before she turned to walk down the aisle.

  “You look amazing,” her father whispered in her ear.

  Clutching his elbow, she turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Almost as pretty as your mother on our wedding day.”

  She elbowed him, and he laughed.

  Tanya swiveled to wink at her before she began her slow walk down the aisle. Her tall colleague looked regal in her flowing gown. Then only Kirsten remained in the narthex with Sophie and her father.

  “If Mom were here,” said Sophie, “she’d be on the other side of me to walk me down the aisle.”

  “Huh?” Lines creased her father’s forehead. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work. The father gives the daughter away.”

  “Do you know where that tradition comes from, Dad? It’s from a time when women were men’s property. The father literally gave his daughter away to the next man who owned her: her husband. I don’t want to support that patriarchal misogyny.”

  “Oh, Lord.” He shook his head. “I know you’re seeing therapy clients again, but could you please stop the insufferable women’s libber psychobabble for one day?”

  A giggle escaped. She’d missed his cranky complaints.

  “Your new husband will want to return his property right quick if you keep that up.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured as he nodded ahead. “You can tell Grant will never give you up. Check out the way he’s looking at you.”

  She realized Kirsten had already started down, and the white aisle runner now extended before her. Her eyes drifted from the beaded straps on the back of Kirsten’s gown to the front of the church. Standing to the right of the altar was a handsome hunk of sailor decked out in his dress whites. I’m so glad he’s back in the Navy. His khaki uniform was sexy enough, but his whites? Have mercy. Sliding up the gold buttons on his chest, her gaze locked onto his. His eyes lit up with joy, filling her with their kindness and love. She suddenly wanted to cry. How cliché.

  “He loves you—it’s clear.” Her father squeezed her elbow. “And I love you. Are you ready?”

  The lighting dimmed as the church organist and violinist flowed into Thais’ “Meditation Act II.” Then the entire congregation was on its feet, staring at her with expectation. The enormity of it all made it hard to breathe. Her heart galloped, and her hands trembled, shaking her jasmine bouquet as everyone waited for her to take the first step. Then she found Grant’s eyes…and she gulped a big breath. He smiled at her, and his slight nod released her from her anxiety. What was there to fear? They would face any challenge together now.

  The aching beauty of the violin accompanied her first slow step. Her father stayed at her side, supporting her like he now knew how to do. She kept her eyes glued on McSailor as her father propelled them forward, one step at a time.

  Uncle Joe smiled next to Grant in his more decorated uniform, and standing next to the best man were the groomsmen, Ben and Roger, both dressed in handsome tuxes. Ben grinned at her while Roger wore a stoic expression. He seemed to be trying to appear taller with his chin in the air.

  Her eyes returned to Grant, who drew her toward him with the force of his love. She blinked as fast as she could to keep the tears at bay. The guests in the pews were a blur of faces until she made it to the front rows and heard, “Way to go, Taylor.”

  Sophie looked over to find Jerry wearing a faint smile. Marilyn leaned around him. “You’re beautiful. We’re proud of you.”

  A tear leaked down her cheek as she nodded. Thank God Kirsten had insisted on waterproof mascara. Suddenly she was mere feet from Grant, and she paused as Pastor Tom said, “Knowing that your love and your choice to be life-long partners stems from God’s will and the blessings of your families, who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

  “Her mother and I do,” her father said in a clear voice. Then he pressed a kiss to her cheek and drew her hand into Grant’s. More tears spilled over her cheeks as she watched him nod at Grant.

  She’d have to find her father a partner of his own one day. If Roger could get a girlfriend, anyone could.

  Grant’s warm hand led her a few steps forward, and he wiped her cheek before he clasped her other hand. “Happy tears?” he whispered.

  “Delighted tears,” she whispered back. She felt her gown lift and peeked over her shoulder to see Kirsten fluffing the train of her dress, letting it swirl toward the pews in an elegant arc. Good maid. She smirked as she remembered Kirsten’s laugh every time she’d referred to her as “maid” in the past month.

  “Sophie and Grant,” Pastor Tom began, “today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as wife and husband. You will blend your lives, expand your family ties, and embark upon the grandest adventure of human relations. The story of your life together is still yours to write. All those present have come to witness and celebrate your love and commitment this day—eager to share the part of the story not yet told.”

  The pastor’s words continued, but she focused on Grant. His warm, steady hold on her hands…his masculine scent of bergamot and sandalwood…his freshly shaved olive skin. The bones had mended, the bruises faded, and his shining eyes revealed his emotional healing too. He had a sense of confidence and peace she’d never seen before.

  Oh, time for a reading. As Ashley skirted behind Roger and up a few stairs to a side pulpit, Sophie admired her lavender dress and her happy smile. How different her expression was from the time she’d done a reading at Logan’s funeral. Sophie glanced at Ben and waited until his eyes met hers. He stared at her a moment before he looked down at his polished black shoes. He was thinking of Logan as well, she knew.

  After Ashley returned to her seat, Hunter made his way to the pulpit. She hid a smile and looked at Grant, who smirked back. They’d first had to cajole Hunter to attend their wedding, overcoming his concerns about compromising their confidentiality. But that was nothing compared to his reluctance to do a reading. After much begging on her part, he’d thrown up his arms and told her he’d do it, damn it, but he’d choose his own reading. She felt a flash of curiosity as he began to read:

  “Sophie and Grant, you stand here right now

  Aware of each breath, each tear, each laugh

  Seek within yourselves

  Courage to keep going

  Communication to speak truth

  And acceptance of what’s real

  Live mindfully in each moment

  As you experience and share

  The journey to beauty and love.”

  Grant squeezed her hands as Hunter’s words reverberated. She silently vowed to communicate better on the journey ahead of them.

  They turned to face Pastor Tom, who shared with them his own words of wisdom. It felt heady to be married in front of the altar, and she hoped she wouldn’t let God down. “And now it’s time for the exchange of vows,” the pastor said.

  She blinked. Already? The ceremony had flown by, and she’d wanted to be completely present for every moment—every second of her new life with Grant. They joined their hands together again, and she looked into his eyes as Pastor Tom asked:

  “Do you, Sophie, choose Grant to be your partner in life, to support and respect him in his successes and failures, to care for him in sickness and in health, to envelop him in Godly grace and love, to nurture him, and to grow with him throughout the seasons of your life together?”

  Yes, yes, yes, McSailor! she wanted to shout. Instead she got out a shaky “I do” before she started crying again.

  Grant chuckled, low and deep.

  She barely heard Pastor Tom ask him the same question, but she definitely honed in on his smooth, sexy voice as he answered, “I do.” Right away he leaned toward her ear and whispered, “I love you, Bonnie.”

  They were married! When his warm breath left her cheek as he straightened, she smi
rked at him. “I love you, McHusband.”

  ***

  Roger was the first guest Grant noticed as he and Sophie boarded the Eaton Tours ship for the wedding reception. “’Bout time you two got here!” he boomed, unthreading the rope from the cleat.

  “Let me help you with that, sir,” Grant said, stepping forward.

  “Nonsense.” Roger stood, and the ship floated a few feet from the dock. “Wouldn’t want to dirty your prissy whites, Lieutenant.”

  “Well, you’re in a tux,” Sophie observed.

  Roger glanced down as he brushed off his lapel. “And looking damn fine, if I say so myself. So why were you two so late? All your guests arrived twenty minutes ago.” He nodded to the limo parked near the dock. “Getting your honeymoon started early?”

  Grant felt his cheeks grow warm and hoped his tunic was back in place.

  “We had to finish up the photos,” Sophie lied.

  “How come the photographer got on board forever ago, then?” Roger asked.

  “Um…” She licked her bottom lip, which mesmerized Grant.

  Roger shook his head as he pointed at her wedding gown. “I thought the white was for virgins. So why’re you wearing it, Taylor? You put the whore in horizontal.”

  Her mouth hung open for a few seconds, then she started laughing.

  “Enough, Rog,” Grant growled. “I gotta meet your girlfriend. I don’t know how she puts up with you.” As he took Sophie’s hand and guided her toward the guests, Roger guffawed from behind them.

  “You look fantastic in that dress,” Grant told her, earning a smile from his bride. It was an off-the-shoulder gown that showcased her delicate collarbone and slim, muscular shoulders. The fitted bodice angled into a thin, dark purple belt. Beneath the belt, flowing curves swirled around the dress like waves, sounding a whispering bustle as they walked. He knew she’d debated with Cheri about whether to keep her hair up and down. He’d stayed out of it, but he was pleased by her decision: long strawberry-blond hair rested in soft curls down her back, held in place by an ornately beaded headband.

  Guests mingled on deck, enjoying appetizers and drinks. When the light jazz music faded, everyone stared at them. From the bridge, the DJ Cheri had hired spoke into the microphone: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Grant Madsen and Mrs. Sophie Taylor Madsen!”

  The guests broke into applause a second before he wheeled to face her. “I thought you were keeping your name?”

  “Professionally, yes.” She squeezed his hand. “But I decided to take your name for the rest of my life…as a sign of my love for you.”

  Could he adore her more? The sound of a fork hitting a wine glass rang out, accompanied by Detective Fox’s feisty cry, “Kiss!” He grinned at his Bonnie, released her hand, cradled her head, and met her soft, sweet lips. He felt her hands grasp his hips as she leaned into the kiss. The applause swelled, but his heart swelled more.

  When he finally broke away, he smoothed his hand down her hair. “Thank you for your wedding gift, Mrs. Madsen.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “My bonny wife.”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but Roger interrupted, speaking over the microphone. “Welcome to Eaton Tours, everyone. The cruise will now begin. As you take in the stunning Chicago architecture, please enjoy cocktails and appetizers on deck, and the buffet down below.”

  Classical music started up. Grant scanned the familiar environs of Ogden Slip and remembered the first day he’d worked on Roger’s ship. He’d been so lonely then…until Sophie had joined him on board.

  “Congratulations, you two,” Mr. Taylor said as he approached. Grant felt his shoulders stiffen, and noticed his former hotel boss, Mr. Remington, trailing Sophie’s father. Mr. Taylor kissed Sophie on the cheek as he hugged her, then reached out to shake his hand. “What a handsome couple.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He searched Mr. Taylor’s eyes for signs of disapproval. “Thank you for the amazing reception on this ship.”

  “It’s a bit informal, but that’s how you two wanted it. My pleasure, Grant.” He stepped aside so Mr. Remington could shake Grant’s hand after hugging Sophie.

  “I thought we might hear a song from you during the ceremony.”

  “Yes!” Sophie added. “I asked him to sing, but he didn’t want to.”

  His throat tightened. “I…I just wanted to enjoy the experience.” He squeezed her shoulder and kept his arm wrapped around her waist. “You know, keep the focus where it belongs: on this beautiful woman here.”

  She dipped her chin, and Mr. Taylor laughed. “You got it bad, Grant.” He looked behind him to see more guests waiting to speak to the couple. “I’ll let you go.” Reaching out to stroke Sophie’s cheek, he said, “My beautiful daughter, all grown up.” Then he pumped Grant’s hand again. “I’m glad to have a son now too.”

  As he walked away, Grant turned to Sophie for a wide-eyed exchange. “Wow,” she breathed.

  He straightened when he saw two men in uniform next in line. But first Kirsten zoomed in from the side to slip champagne flutes into their hands. “Nobody ever gives the bride and groom any time to eat or drink at these things,” she murmured.

  “Thanks, Kir,” Sophie said as her friend darted away. She clinked her glass with his and knocked back a swig, but he didn’t dare drink in the presence of the two decorated officers standing before them.

  He held his glass to the side as Joe hugged him. When his uncle thumped him on the back, he heard the clang of gold buttons colliding on their uniforms. “Excellent job, Grant.” Those Danish blue eyes beamed at him. “Your new wife is truly a treasure. You’ve chosen well, son.” Grant closed his eyes, overwhelmed by emotion. His biological father would die one day in prison, but Joe would be there for him on the outside, as always. As Joe drew Sophie into a hug, Grant opened his eyes to face his current boss.

  Captain Archie Lockhart also shook his hand. “Never seen you in your dress whites before, Lieutenant.”

  “No, sir. But I’ll be wearing them at the charity benefit in a couple of weeks.”

  “Right.” Captain Lockhart nodded. “I’ll get to hear you sing for the first time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His boss smirked. “Your entertaining duties at Navy events have to be more fun than working as my assistant.”

  How am I supposed to answer that? “Well…”

  “Grant just loves working for you, Captain,” Sophie interjected. “And I’m thrilled you took him on at Great Lakes, because I love…” Her voice drifted off, and he thought he noticed her blush. “Well, I love a man in uniform.” Her hand rested on his chest. “It’s a dream come true.”

  His face flushed as well, recalling her pawing at his uniform in the limo.

  Joe laughed. “How’s it going with your practice up in Lake County, Sophie?”

  “So great.” Her proud smile made Grant happy he’d encouraged her to plead her license reinstatement to the state psychology board. “I saw my first client a couple of weeks ago. I’m also teaching a summer class at DePaul since it’ll take a while to build my caseload.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Joe nodded. “I’m happy for you both. C’mon, Archie, let’s go teach Rog how to drive this ship.”

  Archie shook his head as he followed him. “Good luck with that, Joe.”

  After snapping a few photos of Ben and his friends, the photographer got some shots of Grant and Sophie with her hair flowing behind them in the cool breeze. They couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful backdrop. “Are you warm enough?” he asked after taking a sip of bubbly.

  “I’m just glad it’s not super humid today,” she answered.

  “Me too. Hungry?”

  “Starved.” She grinned.

  “Quick, let’s get you some food before more guests hound us.” He led her to the appetizer table.

  She giggled. “The guests are the point of having this wedding.”

  He fed her an olive. “I thought the whole point was the wedding night.”r />
  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He scooped some hummus onto a pita and wolfed it down. Delicious. He was reaching for a carrot stick when he heard a male voice say, “Your nose looks perfect.” Grant straightened to find Dr. Bradley Washington studying him. Hunter came up behind Bradley.

  “I told you not to bother them,” Hunter scolded.

  Sophie clapped her hands together. “You came to the reception!”

  “Yes, we did,” Hunter said with a sigh. “Bradley wanted to see the surgical results up close. I must say, I can’t even tell you’ve had a rhinoplasty, Grant.”

  Bradley circled him like a predator. “I agree. I did a fantastic job.”

  Sophie smirked. “Grant’s whole face is gorgeous now, but I liked his old nose too. It was a little crooked, but it fit his face.”

  Grant wished he could crawl under the deck.

  “You must’ve been in some hell of a car accident,” Bradley said. “There was a lot of old scar tissue in there—the surgery took me longer than expected.”

  “I’ve never been in a car accident,” Grant said. He swallowed. “I, uh, I broke my nose when I was a kid.”

  “Really?” Bradley tilted his head. “How? Sports injury?”

  Grant exchanged a knowing look with Sophie before his gaze flitted over to Dr. Hayes, who shifted his weight from one foot to another.

  Sophie took the hint and changed the subject. “So, Bradley, how’d you decide to specialize in plastics?”

  When the surgeon launched into an explanation, Grant reached out to shake Hunter’s hand. “Your reading at the church was excellent, Dr. Hayes.”

  “Oh…thanks.” Hunter nodded.

  “We’ll try to do our best, sir.” He swallowed. “We’ll try to communicate like you taught us, and to…accept the things we can’t change.”

  “I know you will. I know how strong you both are.”

  Sophie broke in, “It’s so great you and Bradley made it.”

  “I wasn’t sure if it would be ethical to attend your wedding, but I figured, what the hell?” His eyes crinkled. “It’s been one ethical challenge after another with you two anyway.”