Once Touched (29 page)

T
HE
W
ALDORF-
A
STORIA WAS
big—big on marble, big on gold trim, big on mirrors. The grand hotel exuded an air of refined luxury. While Quinn preferred the warmer tones and textures of river stone and timber, along with vistas of rolling pastures and spruce-covered mountains, it was kind of amazing to walk into the soaring, cathedral-like lobby and be greeted by liveried staff and a concierge who offered them flutes of impeccably chilled champagne and congratulated her parents on their son's upcoming wedding before being whisked up to one of the suites and enveloped by gilded softness. And, as her dad remarked, it was a pleasant and welcome change to be in a hotel where, should the pipes in any of the glorious bathrooms clog, it would be someone else's headache.

Quinn's parents had chosen to stay at the Waldorf not only for its comfort but also for its location. They didn't want to waste time stuck in crosstown traffic when driving to Queens, where Tess's parents lived and where the church in which the wedding ceremony would be held was located. Brooklyn and Anna Vecchio's restaurant was also within easy reach from the midtown hotel.

With so many friends congregating and events and outings planned, they hit the ground running. Ward's best friend, Brian Nash, and his wife, Carrie—also a good friend—had already arrived. They all met up at the City Winery, a SoHo winery and music club. Reid had bought the tickets for the evening's concert and must have tipped the manager a small fortune because they were taken directly to a reserved table large enough for the eight of them. The R&B band was great and the wine Mia ordered for them went down easily.

Luckily Ethan had figured out that Quinn's musical tastes were a little broader than Olivia Newton-John and Lionel Richie. It didn't stop him from teasing that he knew of a bar where they only played seventies hits that she might prefer.

On the second night, they had dinner with the Casaris and Anna Vecchio's family as well. Mrs. Casari—Maria—had insisted on inviting all the Knowleses, Mia and Ethan included, to their home. It had been an uncomplicated way for the families to meet before the more formal occasions took place. With the addition of Anna, her boyfriend Lucas, and Anna's parents, the modest brick house was filled to bursting with bodies and, in very little time, with laughter. And the food prepared by Mrs. Casari and Mrs. Vecchio…well, there'd been enough of it to feed four times as many people.

It was why Quinn had spoken up, asking the livery driver to pull over when they crossed back into Manhattan.

To her parents she said, “Do you mind? I'd like to walk off some of the zillion calories I consumed.”

“Of course not, Quinn honey. You'll go with her, Ethan?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think a walk would do Mia and me good, too, Dad,” Reid said. “You mind if we tag along, sis?”

“The more the merrier.”

The four of them clambered out of the black Escalade while her dad and mom continued on to the hotel. Ward and Tess, who were staying in the Towers portion of the Waldorf for the extra privacy and VIP treatment showered on wedding couples, had remained at the Casaris' to help clean up. A nightcap with Anna and Lucas was planned.

The night air was biting, in the low thirties, and their breath came out in puffy clouds as they made their way to Park Avenue. Mia and Reid walked ahead of them, their heads almost touching.

When Ethan's hand found hers, she felt her heart lift. How remarkable to think that she was walking down a New York City street with the man she loved.

“Man, Italians sure can eat,” she said.

“And cook,” Ethan said. “That was the best pasta all'amatriciana I've had outside of Italy.”

“Did you try the spaghetti with pesto, green beans, and potatoes? Incredible. I'll grow all the beans, basil, and potatoes Jeff wants if he'll make that dish for me back home.”

“Now that we've seen how well the
madri
cook, I'm pretty sure the wedding dinner Anna serves at her trattoria will be extraordinary. I liked her. She's a spitfire.”

“Yeah, Anna's great. I love that she's pulling out all the stops for Tess.”

“They're funny with their stories of their school days,” Ethan agreed. “I can't imagine Tess's childhood was easy.”

She knew he was referring to the sorrow that must have cast a shadow over the Casaris' home on account of Christopher's severe autism. When his reactions became impossible to control, Tess's parents were forced to find a facility that could address his needs.

“It can't have been easy for any of them. But I guess there's comfort in knowing Christopher's in a place where he's safe and well cared for.”

She looked at Reid, walking a few paces in front of them. Her brother had wrapped his arm around Mia's waist, drawing her even closer. Their strides matched. Mia had already experienced heartache—losing her mother when she was little more than a toddler, never knowing her father. But should more misfortune or tragedy befall her, Reid would be there for her. Their love, like Ward and Tess's, like her parents', would weather life's storms.

She wanted the same with Ethan.

If only…

“So have you decided where you want to sneak off to—provided we have a free moment?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She'd finalized the details with Dara Brendel and then called Erin Miller while Ethan was out, picking out his suits and buying accessories. It was Dara who'd suggested she bring Ethan to the gallery the evening of Ward and Tess's wedding, after the toasts were made, the wedding cake cut, and the dancing grown champagne-silly. The late hour would allow Dara the necessary time to set things up. Quinn had agreed because it gave her the chance to hoard every second she had with Ethan.

She forced a laugh to cover the nervousness. “Never fear, crazy schedule notwithstanding, I'm going to whisk you away when you least expect it. Just be prepared to stop whatever it is you're doing and come with me.”

He raised her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist where her glove ended. “Your wish is my command. So tell me again, what's on tomorrow's agenda?”

“Mia, Carrie, Anna, and I are taking Tess out for some pampering. Pretty much an all-day event. Then we're taking her to dinner and a show. You're going to meet up with Ward, Brian, and Reid when the basketball game is over, right?”

Reid had bought courtside seats to see the Lakers play the Knicks.

“Yeah, I'll have dinner with my parents and then meet the guys at a bar.”

“One of many, no doubt. Reid and Brian are taking their roles of best man and groomsman very seriously.”

“A bar crawl. Haven't done that in a while.”

“Just make sure Ward gets back in time to make it to the rehearsal or the priest may not let him marry Tess.”

“We'll carry him if necessary,” Ethan said.

“That's the spirit. Once the rehearsal's over, we're in the homestretch prep-wise.”

“Maybe you and I could steal away then.”

“No—no.” She cleared her throat. “Because then we have the rehearsal dinner with the Casaris, the priest, Anna, Lucas, and Carrie and Brian. Mom and Dad are giving it. They've reserved a private room at Per Se. No ducking out of that.”

“At least it'll be delicious—almost as good as what we had tonight.”

“True, but much more of this eating with no riding or playing tag with Gertrude and the does to work it off and I'll be busting the seams of my bridesmaid dress.”

He squeezed her hand. “I'll keep my eyes peeled.”

She snorted. “Cheap thrills.”

“The chance to see any part of your body? An exquisite thrill.”

“You must be on a sugar high after that tiramisu. Dear Lord, I can't believe I went near a dessert. It would be awful if I popped a seam or if anything went wrong on Tess's big day.” And that was another reason to postpone taking Ethan to Dara Brendel's Tribeca gallery until after Tess and Ward had cut the cake and perhaps even slipped away from the reception to celebrate in privacy. She didn't want anything to spoil their special day. “It's a good thing I love Tess, because I really hate weddings.”

“So what kind of wedding would you want that wouldn't be an ordeal? Whoa!” he said with a laugh, gripping her hand more tightly and pulling back on it to prevent Quinn from doing a face-plant into the sidewalk. “Careful there.”

“I swear that crack in the sidewalk appeared out of nowhere. What kind of a wedding would I want?” she repeated breathlessly, her mind scrambling. “I don't think I've ever really thought about it.”

She could picture it, though, clear as day.

“Go on, then. Give it a shot.”

“Well, I'd probably choose a field in the summer and just have my closest friends and family as guests,” she said. And there, in front of the small gathering and the minister, she would pledge her love to Ethan. Her heart squeezed with painful yearning.
Keep it light. Keep it easy,
she told herself. “And I'd have a kick-ass band and everyone would dance. And that would be it.”

“Sounds right. Sounds like you,” he said. Coming to a halt, he gave a gentle tug, reeling her into his arms, and covered her mouth, which had opened in an “Oh!” of surprise.

Their lips were January-cold at first. Quickly the heat of the kiss, as intense as the pounding of their hearts and the straining of their bodies as they pressed closer, burned red-hot.

Pulling back at last, their breaths mingling in a moist cloud, he whispered to her, “In case I haven't said this, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Quinn. I like the way you make me feel—any time of day, anyplace we are.”

She felt her eyes widen, and the glitter of the city lights on Park Avenue and Forty-Ninth Street grew even brighter. “Oh, Ethan.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and then kissed him again, a frantic mashing of lips that made him laugh even as he responded with a matching desperation.

“Come up to the room with me,” he whispered. “Let me show you how happy you make me.”

N
O MATTER HOW
often Quinn professed her dislike of weddings and the surrounding hoopla, not once did Ethan observe her exhibiting anything but grace and humor—albeit her own inimitable brand—in setting after setting, social event after social event, as the days leading to Ward and Tess's big day unfolded.

She hadn't exaggerated the whirlwind pace that the schedule demanded. Even he, standing at the periphery, was caught up. It put to rest any schemes he entertained to take matters into his own hands and steal Quinn away for a few hours, perhaps take her ice skating at Rockefeller Center or to the top of the Empire State Building to view the city spread like a sparkling silver blanket beneath them.

He doubted that even Quinn, as determined and clever as she was, would succeed in orchestrating a way to duck out of these functions. But he was rooting for her…for them.

Not that he wasn't enjoying himself. The Knowleses were hoteliers, Tess an obviously talented events planner. They knew how to have a good time. And the dinner with his parents offered an opportunity to erase some of the worry lines on their faces. In Bethesda, they'd been etched deep.

His mother reached out and laid her hand on his arm again, giving it a squeeze. “You look so well, darling. I can't wait to see Adele and Daniel so I can thank them for all they've done. We were so afraid…” Her voice faltered.

His father spoke to give Ethan's mother a moment to recover her equilibrium. “So what are your plans? Will you look for a place in Washington or stay here in New York?”

“Neither. I'm going back to Acacia. I'm taking a job at Silver Creek as a ranch hand.”

It was a testament to their previous concern that his father and mother didn't immediately exclaim,
But what about your project?

“Oh,” his mother said. “We thought, we hoped…”

“That since you're in New York, you'd be seeing your editor,” his father inserted.

“Erin seemed to believe so, at least,” his mother finished.

He frowned. “You've been in touch with her?”

“Of course, Ethan. So many people care about you. Erin called on Christmas, hoping for word of how you were doing.” His mother's voice was gentle, softening the reproach.

Quashing the guilt that rose inside him, he exhaled and then nodded. “I won't have time to see Erin—we're taking a noon flight back the day after the wedding. But I'll send her an email, bring her up to date.” He'd avoid a telephone call, though. It would open the door for exactly this type of exchange, where he was reminded of what he'd been, what he was supposed to be doing. “I like being at Silver Creek.”

“Of course you do. It's wonderful there. You always loved it as a boy.”

“I'm also involved with Quinn Knowles.”

From the happiness that lit their faces, he realized he should have announced that he and Quinn were an item the second they sat down. It would have spared them even a second of awkward dancing around the nontopic of his photography project.

“Quinn? Little Quinn?” his mother said breathlessly.

He intended to tease Quinn with that nickname later tonight. “She's grown-up now.”
In all the right ways,
he added silently. He then proceeded to tell them stories about Quinn's goats, Bowie and Sooner, her adoption of Tucker—he even found a few kind words to say about Alfie.

“Well, this is terrific. Just terrific,” his dad repeated. “Of course you should be at Silver Creek. Everything will fall into place eventually.”

He smiled, choosing to ignore the implication that he'd return to his photography. He'd found his peace. It was with Quinn at Silver Creek Ranch. Nothing was going to change his mind.

It was midmorning, the day of the wedding. Ethan and Quinn had indulged in a delicious breakfast in bed, feeding each other bites of flaky croissant and cups of intensely strong espresso—the Waldorf's kitchen had quickly learned her preferences—and cuddling beneath the cloud-white covers. Then, while he lounged beneath the sheets and eavesdropped shamelessly, she'd called Lorelei and Mel for her daily update.

The animals were all fine, but that didn't stop Quinn from quizzing both friends like a nervous mother apart from her newborn for the first time. It was adorable.

“So, they're all good?” he asked after she'd said goodbye to Lorelei.

“Yup. Gertrude stole Lorelei's mitten and ate it. Man, I miss them.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Come here and let's see whether I can put a smile on your face,” he suggested, crooking his finger.

She gave him a look and then, with a laugh, launched herself in a flying tackle. One of her hands landed on his shoulder and he winced involuntarily.

“Oh my God, did I hurt you?” she asked, pulling down the sheet to inspect him.

“No, I'm good.” He rolled the joint in its socket, then winced again exaggeratedly. “On second thought, why don't you kiss it better?”

Later they showered, and then Quinn insisted on packing so she wouldn't be rushed and frantic tomorrow morning before they left for the airport.

“You want me to check us in? I'm sure the concierge can print out the boarding passes.”

“No, I'll do all that when I go downstairs to wait for the limo. I've got to stop by the front desk and thank the staff for the exceptional service anyway.”

That was Quinn through and through. For all her laid-back quirkiness, she was thoughtful and 100 percent professional.

“Okay, if you insist.”

“Mmm. I like to do these things myself.” Keeping her gaze fixed on the silk shirt she was folding, she laid it in the suitcase. “There,” she said, giving the folded pile of clothes a pat. “That's everything except my toiletries and what I'm wearing home tomorrow.”

“And your bridesmaid's dress. You sure I can't have a preview?”

His question earned a quick smile. “No way, buster.”

Quinn was being endearingly coy. She hadn't let him see the dress, keeping it stowed in a garment bag. He decided that it was a waste of breath to tell her again that the wow factor whenever he looked at her had yet to dissipate, that it never would. She simply couldn't fathom what she did to him.

“Okay, then.” She turned to kiss him on the lips. “Ciao. Off to make Tess the most beautiful bride ever.”

He caught her by the wrist and drew her to him for another, deeper kiss. “See you at the church. Will I even recognize you?”

“You'd better. I'd hate for you to kiss another woman like that.”

He was still grinning when he finished dressing in a black suit, a snow-white shirt, and a slate-gray textured silk tie. He took a moment to inspect his image. His teeth were brushed. His hair was neatly trimmed, his cheeks freshly shaved. And his black oxfords had been polished to a soft gleam. He'd do.

At the Catholic church where Tess had been baptized and confirmed and would now be wed by the very same priest, he and Lucas, Anna's boyfriend, would usher the guests to their seats and then stand at the ready should the aide who was with Tess's older brother, Christopher, require help assisting Chris out of the church.

It was Adele who'd drafted Ethan into serving as an usher. He was happy to oblige her. Like Quinn, Adele was smart, independent, and competent. Yet that didn't stop a man from wanting to please either woman.

With Quinn, he wanted even more. He'd do anything to make her happy.

Whistling, he took the elevator to the lobby to catch a ride with Lucas to Queens.

The church was filled with the quiet, expectant murmur of voices and the rustle of paper as the seated guests, sleekly coiffed and garbed, chatted amongst themselves and studied the printed wedding program. Ethan stood by the large entryway, the carved wooden doors thrown open in anticipation of the bride.

The limo had arrived.

At the altar, Ward stood tall in his tuxedo. Reid and Brian Nash, similarly dashing, flanked him. All three men's attention fixed on the open doorway.

The opening strains of Handel's
Water Music Suite No.1: Air,
which Tess had chosen for the processional, sounded, and into the space walked Tess Casari, lightly grasping her father's arm.

She was a vision in ivory and lace. A light veil floated over her face, and her gown's train pooled behind her. A collective sigh of happiness, of pleased admiration, wafted into the air as Tess approached the altar and the man waiting for her there.

Something like a sigh escaped Ethan's lips, too, but his stunned sound of appreciation had been for the blonde walking three paces ahead of the bride. In a rose-gold dress that skimmed her body like a worshipful lover's hands, Quinn was heart-stoppingly beautiful. Her long hair had been twisted and pinned into a loose chignon that highlighted the elegant bones of her face and the length of her slender neck. The makeup artist hadn't needed to do much to enhance her features, and yet her eyes sparkled bluer than ever and her lips were a soft, lush pink that made him hunger for their sweetness. She glowed. Her beauty shone almost painfully bright.

He imagined that Ward, watching Tess close the distance separating them, shared the same thought as he. What had he done to deserve this woman in his life?