He'd done it to be more convincing to Ms. FitzGerald. That was the excuse he'd used when Hazel had questioned him. To make sure his skittish bride didn't have a sudden change of heart was more to the point.
But Hazel had insisted that he sleep at his own house the night before the wedding. Some superstitions were just too strong to break, she'd told him with a surprisingly hesitant smile.
He'd figured she was having the same prewedding jitters that had him walking the floors at odd hours. Getting tangled up with a guy a lot of people still shunned was a big commitment for any woman.
"Uh-oh. Almost forgot these. Cait would have killed me." Ty opened the florist's box on the desk and took out three white carnations. After tossing one to Garrett, he pinned one to Jess's lapel and one to his own.
"Too bad you can't get away for a honeymoon."
Jess resisted the urge to run his finger around the constricting edge of his starched collar. "No time."
"Take my advice, make time. Getting a marriage off to the right start is more important than schedules."
"Maybe later, when this trial's over."
Garrett consulted his watch. "Last chance, buddy," he said, clapping Jess on the shoulder.
Jess's mouth went dry, and adrenaline rushed through his veins, but his shrug conveyed indifference.
"Might as well get it over with," he said as he strode hell-bent for the door.
Behind his back, Garrett and Tyler exchanged looks. There was no need for words. Both men had known Jess before and after his accident. In his own way, each had suffered with him through his early struggles to conquer the ordinary day-to-day intricacies of living. Each had seen the changes in him, both good and bad.
Now, as they followed him into the garden, both wished for the best. Because they knew Jess, both expected the worst.
* * *
"Oh, the baby!"
Stricken with guilt, Hazel stepped back from the top of the stairs, only to have Cait squeeze her arm. "Don't worry. Kelsey's already taken Francey downstairs, remember?"
Hazel shook her head. The delicate tiara of white daisies bunching her hair into a semblance of order wobbled precariously.
"So help me, Cait, I'll be lucky if I can remember my name."
"Just don't forget Jess's. Let him take care of remembering yours."
Hazel managed a smile, but inside, her emotions were swooping and diving like crazy. It had been that way since the night she'd accepted Jess's proposal.
Eight days of doubts and hopes, anticipation and dread during which she and Jess had gotten their blood tests and marriage license, filled out reams of paperwork necessary to begin adoption proceedings, and bit by bit moved most of his things to her house.
In a few minutes she would become Mrs. Jess Dante. And, according to Lynn FitzGerald's repeated assurances, well on her way to becoming Francey's legal mother.
Hazel bit her lip, then remembered that she'd just applied fresh lipstick, replacing the previous coat she'd gnawed off earlier.
"Are you sure he's going to be there? In front of the judge, I mean?"
"Yes, he'll be there, looking gorgeous, I might add, in a conservative gray suit that does terrific things for those big shoulders of his. And for once his tie isn't all that bad. In fact, it's almost staid – well, for Jess anyway." Cait grinned. "I know, because I gave it to him."
Hazel knew that Cait was trying to distract her from the full-blown anxiety attack that had been hovering since she'd stepped out of her comfy robe and into her new dress twenty minutes earlier.
It was just a simple silk dress, a nice plain ivory. No big deal, except she'd never noticed before how provocative silk felt against her skin when she moved. Like the whisper-soft touch of a man's fingers mapping the body of the woman he loved.
"Don't look so scared," Cait said softly. "It'll all work out."
Hazel wanted to believe her. But Cait hadn't seen the agreement Jess had drawn up between them. Like a partnership contract, he'd addressed every possible aspect of their relationship, everything laid out in terse legalese. Which of them was to pay which bills, who was to assume what responsibilities for Francey's health care and schooling, who was to have control of the trust fund Jess had set up, how custody would be accorded in case of a divorce.
She'd read it, signed it and stuck it back in the envelope – after she'd taped together several particularly cold-blooded pages that she'd at first ripped to shreds.
Remembering the dry, emotionless words she'd all but memorized, Hazel drew a shaky breath. "Help me, Cait. Why do I suddenly feel as though I'm about to walk off a cliff?"
"Bride's syndrome," Cait said blithely. "All brides feel that way right before they walk down the aisle. Or, in this case, across the patio."
"You didn't."
"Oh yes I did. You were just too busy ordering everyone around to notice."
Hazel lifted her chin. "I didn't—"
"The caterer, the minister, the organist." Cait ticked off each one on her fingers. "Even Jess, who, as I recall, was the only calm one in the church that day."
"Jess is always calm."
"True, but calm doesn't necessarily mean unfeeling," Cait said, reading her mind.
"Nice try, Caitie, but—"
The deep rumble of masculine laughter interrupted her train of thought. Jess was down there somewhere, his copy of their agreement tucked away someplace, his dark eyes hiding everything but his solidly entrenched distrust of women.
"Oh, Lord!" she exclaimed, her pulse spiking furiously. "Maybe we should rethink this."
"There's only one thing that matters," Cait told her, suddenly dead serious. "You love the man and you want to be his wife."
"Do I, Cait? Or am I in love with a man who doesn't exist, except in my mind?"
Cait drew a long breath. "Think of Francey, then. And maybe another baby. Your baby and Jess's."
Hazel's mouth went dry. "I don't even know if Jess wants more children." Her hands clutched Cait's. "This is happening too soon. I need time—"
"Hey, I've got an antsy groom down here," Tyler called from the bottom of the stairs. "And a superior court judge who's sure it's about to rain any second now."
Hazel and Cait exchanged looks. "We'll be right there," Cait called down. "Give us five minutes and then tell Kels to put on the music."
"Five minutes, right," Tyler confirmed before disappearing from view.
Cait gave Hazel a quick hug. "Here we go. And for the record, you're a beautiful, beautiful bride."
Hazel swallowed, then swallowed again. Her face felt hot, but she was freezing cold inside.
"I'm probably the only forty-year-old bride in the history of the modern world who's never slept with the groom before the ceremony," she muttered, taking a deep breath.
Cait laughed. "Makes for a better wedding night."
Hazel glanced behind her at the corner of the bed visible through the open bedroom door.
"Hold that thought," she murmured as she started down the stairs.
* * *
"Weatherman says rain," Garrett observed, cocking a worried glance toward the rain-fat strato-cumulus clouds piling up to the west. "Too bad, too. This wedding of yours was settin' up to be a nice party."
Kels and Jesse had been on the patio to greet Jess when he'd come outside, sitting on picnic benches turned into makeshift pews and decorated with ribbons and flowers. Francey was there, too, perched in her baby carrier between Kelsey and his niece, Andrea.
Catching his eyes, Andi raised clasped hands over her head and flashed him a grin so wide her braces shone in spite of the building overcast.
Nearby, Henry Pollard cleared his throat, looking as judicially somber standing under the flowery arch as he did on the bench.
Garrett was hovering like an old-maid aunt, no doubt worried that the groom was about to bolt. Tyler had stationed himself by the patio doors, probably worried about the same thing.
In spite of the music and the flowers and the genera
l excitement, Jess couldn't help remembering that this was the second time in his life when he would make sacred promises to a woman.
To love and to cherish. In sickness and in health. Words someone somewhere had written down for others to recite.
When Gayla had walked out on those vows, he'd come close to quitting. He was honest enough to admit he would have, too, if Ty McClane hadn't kicked his sorry ass. Damn near killed him getting the booze out of him, then made him take a good long look in the mirror.
The guy staring back at him had been a bum, a real gold-plated, self-pitying, booze-soaked jerk. Gray skin roughened by a week's worth of whiskers, eyes so bloodshot they were pink. A burned-out, washed-up loser, the kind who used to hang around Gasoline Alley looking for handouts. Just thinking about that guy made his gut knot and his face burn.
Seeing that same face stare at him from the front page of one of the tabloids hadn't helped his job prospects – or his self-esteem.
It had been a long road back. Starting college at twenty-eight had been an exercise in patience, but it had given him a reason for getting out of bed every morning. Law school had been tougher for him than any race, but surviving, getting decent grades, winning the respect of his professors and fellow students, had helped him learn to accept the man he had to be instead of the man he'd been.
Winning his first case had been a milepost. He still remembered the rush he'd gotten. He had a feeling he'd crossed some kind of line at that moment. Not the one with a checkered flag, but almost as good.
Still, he'd lived alone because, if he was sometimes frustrated or inept or occasionally bitter, no one knew it but him. If he failed at something, no one else had to suffer the consequences or the indignities. In a few minutes all that would change. In a few minutes he would be a husband and a father, responsible for two other lives.
Who was he kidding? He was still a selfish bastard, still thinking of himself. He'd been lying awake nights in a sweat because, damn it, he had no idea how to make Hazel O'Connor love him. None.
Jess had just consulted his watch again when a flash of movement to his left caught his eye. Tyler was opening the French doors leading to Hazel's den.
Cait came first, giving her husband a quick kiss full on the mouth as she passed. And then Tyler was extending his hand for Hazel, who offered him a radiant smile as she stepped into the growing gloom.
Her hair was a halo of light and sheen as though the meager sunlight filtering through the overcast had gathered in one spot.
As she took Tyler's arm to walk toward him, he had trouble breathing, trouble focusing on anything but Hazel.
Henry Pollard cleared his throat, his seamed face relaxing into a fatherly smile the likes of which Jess had never gotten from him in the courtroom.
With a surprisingly nervous smile, she stopped at Jess's side, facing the judge. Her scent teased his nostrils, and her arm brushed his. The spray of white orchids he'd remembered to send at the last minute trembled.
Hazel heard the hushed conversation cease abruptly, making the rich music from Kelsey's prized boom box ripple like suddenly unleashed emotion over the small backyard.
She took a steadying breath, aware that everyone but Jess was looking at her. Kelsey and Andrea wore nearly identical expressions of bemusement, Jesse fidgeted, unused to the strictures of his first suit, and Francey was busily attempting to devour her fist.
"Shall we begin?" the judge asked kindly, a twinkle softening his shrewd eyes. Hazel decided she liked the man Jess had chosen. She nodded, her gaze going unerringly to Jess. He was watching her now, his black eyebrows shadowing eyes that reflected the flat surface of the overcast sky.
"Last chance," she murmured. The smile she'd meant to be casual ended up wobbling. Just being close to him scrambled her senses and warmed her from the inside out.
"For you, too," he said, his voice low and surprisingly husky. Hazel found herself staring into his eyes, trying to see past the smooth slate to the scarred, wounded soul it protected.
So now here inside was the man willing to rearrange his life to keep an unspoken promise to a dying woman, the man she wanted so desperately to love. Still, there was no guarantee Jess would let her see that man again.
"I'm ready if you are," she whispered.
"Okay, let's do it."
He held out his hand, palm up, the invitation obvious. Shaking inside, she rested her palm on his and was surprised that the fingers curling possessively over hers weren't quite steady.
Judge Pollard began to read from the slim book in his hand, his precise voice infusing the timeless words with a grandeur and sincerity that touched Hazel deeply. Her own responses were quiet and a bit tremulous. Jess, too, seemed caught by the moment, his voice thick, his grip firm.
When the judge called for the ring, Jess had to release her hand to accept the band from Tyler, and Hazel missed the warmth of his skin and the reassuring pressure of his hard fingers.
The ring slid halfway, then stuck. Jess muttered something under his breath about the wrong size, which made her smile.
"When I told you my ring size, I forgot that abject panic makes your hands swell," she said as he wiggled the band over her knuckle.
"Doesn't do much for a guy's coordination, either," he muttered, lifting his gaze to hers. To her surprise, there was a glint of amusement in his eyes instead of the frustration she'd expected. Before she could respond, he'd taken her hand again and signaled the judge to continue.
Several minutes later the judge pronounced them husband and wife and it was over. Almost.
"Hurry up, Dante," Pollard added with a pleased grin. "Kiss that beautiful bride of yours before those clouds up there unload on us."
"Yessir, Your Honor."
Jess tugged on her hand, drawing her closer. His mouth angled over hers, giving her time to do nothing more than close her eyes before his lips pressed hers in a kiss that went on and on until she lost track of the wind swirling her skirt and the embarrassed teenaged giggling behind them.
Like petals on a rosebud, sensations unfolded one after the other, leaving her bemused and dazed by the time Jess finally dragged his mouth from hers. She was still swaying when she was spun around and enfolded in Tyler's strong arms.
"Keep it up, kiddo, you're definitely on the right track," he whispered close to her ear while Garrett and the judge took turns shaking Jess's hand and pounding him on the back.
Someone snapped a picture, temporarily blinding her. Laughing, she let herself be squeezed one more time against Tyler's solid chest before Cait claimed her for a hug.
"See how easy that was?"
"Where's Francey?" Hazel asked, taking back the bouquet Cait had been holding for her.
"Don't worry, Jess has her."
Hazel saw him then, sitting on the bench, holding Francey in the crook of his arm. His dark head was bent as though he were saying something very important only to her.
Sudden emotion banded Hazel's chest and blurred her eyes. Her husband, she thought. And their daughter.
"Auntie Hazel, you really did it."
Swiping a hand over her wet lashes, Hazel returned Kelsey's exuberant hug. "I sure did," she managed to get out before Jesse barreled into her legs, claiming a hug for himself.
"Hurry up and cut the cake, Auntie Hazel," he urged. "I'm hungry."
Hazel laughed. "In a few minutes, Jesse Bear. In the meantime, why don't you help yourself to some juice from the fridge? You know where it is."
"Okay." Jesse made a beeline toward the patio door. Turning, Hazel nearly collided with the judge.
"My very best wishes, Mrs. Dante."
"Thank you, Your Honor. And thank you so much for agreeing to preside. Jess admires you very much, and I know it meant a lot to him to have you here."
"You've got yourself a good man," the judge said in a low voice. "Just don't let him bully you into thinking there's no heart under that hard crust, because there is. I've seen it, and so, I suspect, have you."
H
azel managed a grateful look and a nod before Jess's brother claimed her for a quick kiss on the mouth.
"Welcome to the family, such as it is," he said, his grin jubilant.
"Thank you," she murmured, wiping a smudge of lipstick from his lips.
"And this is Andi," Garrett said, dropping an affectionate arm over his daughter's shoulder. The resemblance between father and daughter was marked, and Hazel noted some of Jess in the teenager, as well.
Around the eyes, mainly, which were the same changeable mix of brown and black, and in the inky thickness of her wavy hair. In spite of the braces on her teeth and her angular height, Jess's niece was definitely swan material.
"Hello, Andi," Hazel murmured, offering her hand, because she sensed a suggestion of shyness in the girl's demeanor. "And thank you for coming."
"I never had an aunt before," the girl said, blushing as she touched her hand to Hazel's. "Uncle Jess was divorced when I was just a baby."
"Then this is a big day for all of us," Hazel said with a smile she didn't have to force. "You're gaining an aunt and three cousins, and I'm getting a whole other family."
"Three cousins?"
"Sure. Francey and Kelsey and Jesse."
"Hey, that's right," Andi said, looking a tad overwhelmed. Her father chuckled before pointing her toward the McClane clan. "Better break the news to them gently."
"Oh, Dad, don't he a dork!" she exclaimed, but she went off anyway.
The wind swirled, catching Hazel's skirt. At the same time she found herself caught around the waist and held tight against a solid male body.
Looking up, she found her husband of only a few minutes looking down at her, his face more relaxed than he'd been since the day he'd picked her up at her office for the trip to Pleasanton.
He smelled like expensive wool and soap, and looked incredibly handsome, and yet she couldn't help wondering what was really behind the enigmatic eyes and the very masculine planes of his face.
Anyone watching would be convinced that he was a man crazy in love with his bride. But Hazel reminded herself that a successful trial attorney was also part actor.
ONCE UPON A WEDDING Page 18
