“Dear, where’s your fiancé going?” her mother asked, gliding up next to her with a fresh glass of champagne as she watched Anthony head toward the coat room.
“Away,” she muttered, swiping the glass and downing it.
Bev shook her head. “It seems as though you two had a disagreement.”
“We’ve been disagreeing all night,” Gwen admitted.
Her mother nodded. “I know. People are worried about you. Said they haven’t seen a true smile from you yet. Even with the wonderful news that your cousin is considering a run for the presidency! You know, the press will arrive soon. They’ve been invited for the second half of the gala. They’ll hear your speech.”
“I know. And I’ll try harder to relax,” Gwen murmured. And she would, because despite the pompousness of some people in the room, as she’d grown older, she saw what good they really tried to do. Anthony was right in that some of them had never worked a day the same way he did; however, their strengths were in other areas, and they were using those strengths to make impacts where they could. In fact, Mr. Torrey was working with the governor to go after pharmaceutical companies for their role in his daughter’s death.
That could prevent so many future deaths and heartache, and Gwen could only see the good in his intentions. And most of the people at the gala had similar impacts on the charities they supported, too.
And…they were her family, both by blood and by water. For Anthony to not understand that, above all else, made her doubts grow even stronger.
Half an hour later, the doors opened to the press, and Gwen stood as far back as possible. She didn’t care to have her picture in the papers or magazines, and she had just about reached her limit of “Where did your young man go off to?” questions. She quietly slipped out the main ballroom doors, but drew up short.
There, in front of her, stood Reilly, in a crisp black tuxedo. He tilted his head at her. “You clean up nice, Ms. Allen.”
She blinked, then blinked again. “Wha—how—why are you here?” she blurted out.
He clasped a hand over his heart. “You wound me with your lack of compliments to my person.” He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I even brushed my hair for the occasion.”
She broke out into a grin and held her hand out to him. “My apologies, Mr. O’Malley. You look…”
“Go on,” he encouraged, taking her hand and dropping a kiss to her knuckles.
She could barely string two thoughts together, never mind words. How was Reilly standing here, in Boston, and not in Ireland, where he was when they last spoke? She took a long look at him and assessed.
He stood, gorgeous, smiling, happy to see her.
In a tux.
Wearing his little-boy, charming, disarming, impish smile.
“Dashing,” she finally said, when she caught her breath.
He shook his head. “Weak. Give it another go, and make it count this time.”
“Fishing for compliments?” she teased, tugging her hand.
Instead of letting go, he gently pulled her closer and tucked her hand into his elbow. He gave a blinding smile to a passing server, who nearly tripped over herself from the force of it, and took a glass of champagne from the tray. After thanking her, he offered the glass to Gwen, who refused it. He shrugged, then tossed it back. “No need to fish for them, really. Just trying to expand your terribly lacking vocabulary.”
“You are an arrogant ass, you know,” she replied loftily.
“Still not a compliment,” he replied in a singsong voice.
She looked at him seriously for a moment. “Be straight with me, Ry. Why are you here, and not at home?”
He placed the now-empty glass on another passing server’s tray and looked into her eyes. His hazel gaze turned serious. “Because when I thought about it, I know that this is a big night for you. You have a speech to give, on a very personal subject. And even though I might not be your date this evening, I do have an open invitation to these things, courtesy of your dad.” He gave her a small smile. “No matter how much we fight, I’ll always be there to support you.”
Her mouth hung open a little, her heart bursting into flowers and her stomach erupting into beautiful, terrifying butterflies. “Are we fighting?” she finally managed to ask.
He laughed. “No, Gwendolyn. We never really fight, because I can never stay angry with you.”
“Were you angry with me?” she asked quietly.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Nay, lass. ’Twas only myself with whom I was angry. Forgive an old man for his grouchiness. Let us find your date.”
Gwen pursed her lips. “Well, he had to leave, so…”
Ry slid her a look that spoke volumes, but he wisely held his tongue. “’Tis a shame. Will you allow me the honor of clinging to your dress in there? I know so few people, you see.”
This, she thought happily. Their banter, the games they always played, the feeling of security on his arm—this is what had been missing the entire evening. Her shoulders relaxed, her chest loosened, and even her cheek muscles slackened slightly. She felt the familiar sense of peace wash over her. Gwen couldn’t help her wide smile, and played along. “Of course. Come, come, I’ll introduce you.”
“My thanks,” he replied, leading her back into the room.
“I warn you, they are a little boring,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Ah,” he whispered back. “Lucky for you, I’m not.”
She chuckled, but the sound was lost when a burst of cheers went up at the sight of Reilly.
As they were instantly surrounded by her family and friends, Gwen understood their happiness at seeing him. It was easy to love Reilly O’Malley.
Not as easy, perhaps, to earn his love in return.
Not that she wanted to anymore. No, that ship had sailed, and she’d moved on. He was the best of men, and she was grateful to have him in her life. But she knew a reckoning was coming.
She was too much of a realist to know she couldn’t have her cake and eat it, too.
• • •
“You didn’t come home last night.”
“Anthony?” Gwen blinked blearily at the phone screen, trying to hit the speaker button so she wouldn’t have to expend the effort of actually holding the phone to her ear. She shouldn’t have stayed out so late, but really, she was having too good of a time to go home early. Lucky for her, Colin’s house was a quick trip from the gala last night.
“I waited at your house like a fool until three in the morning. And then, when I check the local news, guess whose picture is splashed all over the website?”
Gwen rubbed her eyes and looked around Colin’s guest room, her eyes landing on an alarm clock a few feet away. “Anthony, it’s seven in the morning. Can this wait until I’ve at least opened my eyes?”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
At that, Gwen sat up quickly, a flash of anger slicing through her sleep fog. “Absolutely not. I’m not a cheater.”
“Well,” Anthony replied, scorn in his tone, “in the pictures I’m seeing, you’re looking at him like a lovesick teenager.”
“Jealousy is not necessary,” she snapped. If there was one thing she hated beyond all else, it was the feeling of being caged. She knew from past experiences that jealous boyfriends most definitely wanted her caged; she hadn’t thought Anthony had a jealous bone in his body.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
“I want you to stop hanging around him.”
Gwen groaned. “Reilly is my best friend. I’m not going to give up a friendship just because you demand it. That’s not how adulting works, Anthony.”
“It’s how relationships work, Gwendolyn.”
“I’m not discussing this. I’ve barely opened my eyes, much less had any coffee. I’ll call you later.”
The annoyance in his voice when he began to respond had her hitting the End button, then flipping the switch to silence the phone.
�
�You really want to marry that bloke?” Reilly asked, appearing at her bed with a steaming mug in his hand.
She greedily reached for it. “Is that for me?”
He held it out of reach with a raised eyebrow. “Yours is brewing downstairs. I figured if I could get you to smell it, I could lure you from your slumber. Alas, it looks like you were woken up in another, much less pleasurable, way.”
She flopped back against the pillow as Reilly sat on the edge of the bed. “He thinks I’m sleeping with you.”
Reilly’s eyes darkened. In another life, whenever she told Reilly of her boyfriend believing she was sleeping with him, she liked to think that his eyes darkened with desire at the thought of it. Now, she knew it was only concern.
He made a non-committal sound, but she knew he wanted to say something. She narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“You know what I’m thinking, so why say it? We both know it’ll merely inflame your temper.”
“It’s too early for your logical nonsense,” she replied, pulling the covers over her head.
He flipped them back. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. I’ve a flight to catch in but a few hours’ time, and you’re driving me.”
“Why do I have to wake up now?” she grumbled. “And you still haven’t said what’s on your mind.”
“Lass, move your fetching self out of this bed. I’ve plans for us yet, and you’re putting me behind schedule.”
“It’s schedule, with a K sound.”
“You Yanks have butchered the English language long enough. Halt your attempts to slay it further. It’s shhhh-ed-joo-wel, as you well know. Move, wench, before I make you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going back to sleep.”
She squeaked as he swiftly lifted her from the bed. “Hey!”
He paused for a moment, looking first at her as she glared at him from his arms, then the coffee cup which he’d obviously just placed on the nightstand. He quickly tossed her over one shoulder and reached for the cup.
“I will breathe my morning breath all over you if you don’t put me down,” she warned, her face against his back.
“Ah, lass. A bit o’ morning breath has yet to ever put any man off from a beautiful woman.” He readjusted her so her stomach wasn’t crushed against him, and made his way downstairs.
“You know I have no pants on, right?” she grumbled.
“Aye. But the tunic you lifted from my room last night covers the important bits,” he replied.
“You should be more out of breath,” she added, propping her elbow against his back and resting her face in her hand.
“As should you. Stop talking, wench, or else you’ll make your own coffee.” He gently deposited her into one of the barstools, and as he went to the mammoth built-in coffee bar, she couldn’t help her smile.
And, as always, her happiness was accompanied by that all-too-familiar, all-too-real sharp pain of unrequited love.
Damn him for being so wonderful.
And damn her messy emotions that were nearly—but not totally—impossible to repress.
• • •
“Gwen, I’m not a jealous guy. I’m really not. But you’re dropping what, four grand? For a plane ticket to go see another man three thousand miles away?”
Gwen pinched the bridge of her nose. In the back of her mind, when she agreed to marry Anthony, she recognized she’d have to let some of her closeness with Reilly lapse. But did it have to be so soon? She thought she’d have time to wean herself from the unmovable friendship. “It’s not like that, Anth. He’s my friend. And I told you, I’m going early to help Ellie.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes blazing. “Oh, sure. Because your friend needs you for three weeks before her wedding?”
“She asked me to come.”
“And I’m your fiancé, asking you not to go.”
“You’re being insecure.”
“I’m not, Gwen. I’m being honest. I don’t want you to go for so long. This guy…Reilly. You didn’t see his expression when I walked up to you at the airport. He had possession written all over his face.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Reilly is protective, not possessive, of me. Like a brother,” Gwen explained, though she knew it fell on deaf ears.
“A brother who wants in your pants.”
“That’s not even funny, Anth.”
He grabbed her hand. “Don’t go, Gwen. Please. Come to Atlanta with me instead.”
“My best friend is getting married. I’m her maid of honor. You know this.”
His mouth settled into a thin line. “You want to know what I know? Instead of taking a vacation with me, my fiancée is hopping an international flight to go see her friend on the flimsy excuse that she needs to be there three weeks before an hour-long ceremony.”
Gwen shook her head forcefully. “That isn’t how it is!” She unclenched her jaw and lowered her voice. “You’re acting like a child. I do not want to go on yet another charity trip right now, Anthony. I saw too much on the last one. I’m burnt out, and this is the perfect break for me. And my best friend since childhood is getting married. Relationships are built on trust, and you’re not trusting me.”
“It isn’t you I don’t trust!” he finally shouted. “But it doesn’t look good from that angle, either. You are choosing this guy, and your friends, over me! I offer you me, and you pass to go running to your so-called best friend, to whom you didn’t so much as drop a letter while we were in Venezuela!”
Gwen’s mouth dropped open. “You have no idea what I did or did not do!” She hadn’t written any letters, of course. She didn’t want the postmark to show her true location, but aside from that, email was significantly easier. And she’d been emailing with Ellie weekly, not that she planned to share that information with Anthony. Not while he was angry, anyway.
“Here’s the issue, Gwen. Your buddy, the ‘brother-like’ guy, has a thing for you. You don’t think he’s going to make a play for you now that you’re taken, Gwen? You don’t think he’s going to want what he can’t have?”
“Reilly has no feelings like that for me!” she shouted back, fully exasperated. “You’re being unreasonable!”
Anthony’s mouth was hard. “Not if you look at it from my perspective, Gwen. I know what I saw. And while I trust you, I definitely don’t trust that guy.”
She gritted her teeth. “Oh, yes, you definitely trust that in the highly unlikely event that Reilly O’Malley, whom I’ve been friends with for years, makes a pass at me, I won’t be able to help myself?”
She pushed down the teeny flutter of excitement that thought brought.
She reined in her temper. “Anthony, I’ve stayed at his house more times than I can count. He’s just not into me the way you think he is. I’ve known him my entire adult life. He’s not going to make a pass at me.”
Anth glowered. “So you’re going, no matter what?”
“Yes, I’m going to help one of my best friends plan the final details of her wedding, and I’m going to see my other best friend, who loves me like a sister.”
Anthony’s eyes narrowed. “You know, you say an awful lot about how he feels about you, but not once have you said how you feel about him. Not a single, ‘I think of him like a brother,’ or an, ‘I don’t have any romantic feelings for him.’”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think I am.”
“I’m marrying you, Anthony. What other reassurance do you need?”
“The kind that comes from you by my side, instead of on the other side of the ocean.”
She held the door open, unwilling to face that truth. Baby steps. “I think you better leave.”
“That’s it, then? Everything we’ve been working toward, every feeling we’ve had for each other, and I get shown the door because I don’t want you to spend the better part of a month with another man?”
Gwen’s shoulders dropped. “I’m not ending the engagement, for crying ou
t loud. But you clearly don’t trust me enough to know me. I’m not a cheater. I wouldn’t cheat on you. On anyone.”
“I believe you.”
“Great. Then I’ll see you in Ireland for the wedding.”
“Gwen.”
The pain in his voice stopped her cold.
“You and I…we’re great together. I can see it, long term. I can see our future together; we can have it all, and be so happy together. Don’t you see that, too? A family? A future?”
She swallowed hard. A safe, steady future with a man she cared for deeply. Yes, she could see it; she could be content with that life.
It was what she wanted, after all. Stability. A life partner. Someone who loved her.
But right now, she needed something else, something she couldn’t quite name.
He added quietly, “I’m a sure thing. I will spend every day trying to make you happy. Can’t you see it?”
She nodded slowly, her resolve wavering. “Of course I can.”
“Then be done with that guy. Prove to me that I’m more important. Come with me to Atlanta.”
Any softening feelings melted away. “I will not give up my oldest friend because of your insecurity, Anthony.”
“It’s not insecurity, Gwendolyn. It’s an absolute fact. The man wants you for more than friendship. I’m in love with you, Gwen. And you know what that means? That means I can see others who are in love, too. And that guy—”
“His name is Reilly,” she snapped, her patience at an end.
“I don’t care if his name is Prince freaking Harry. The guy is in love with you. I think it’s best if you just cut ties.”
She gave him a tight smile. “That’s enough, Anthony. I’ll see you in Ireland. The time apart will do us both good.”
He opened his mouth quickly, but snapped it shut as she held open the door and waited without making eye contact.
His jaw set, he gave her a jerky nod and, without another word, he stormed out.
She quietly closed the door behind him, seething. She knew if she ever wanted a chance at a life with Anthony, she would have to leave Reilly in the past. She didn’t need Anthony to force it down her throat.
And I will leave him behind, she promised herself. When I’m ready. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to fully give her heart to anyone else. But that would happen on her own schedule, and not anyone else’s.
Falling Through Time: Mists of Fate - Book Four Page 6
