Playing All the Angles (21 page)

Eve stroked her sister’s cheek and fingered a lock of her hair. “Love waxes and wanes,” she replied. “Like the tide. But it can be beaten back so completely that it won’t surge forward again. You have to decide if the Dominic cycle of kiss-kick is what you want.”

“Were you with him because he was good to you…when other men weren’t?”

That brought a chuckle. “You mean the bloke he punched out?”

“I mean, he told me there were others who…hurt you a lot.”

“Oh.” Eve’s eyes darkened. “And he told you he was good to me?”

“Ahm…not exactly. Was he not?”

“Dominic and I were friends, and we shagged. I’m in for a bit of rough trade in that department, and he could deliver on that. He—you ask tough questions. He never beat me up or hit me out of anger, but Dominic’s got a dark side you probably won’t ever see, and he’s not above using sex as a weapon or using anger for sex. Does that make sense? It’s part of the whole double-sided Dominic. He needs the sweet girl to make love to—even though I’m sure he can be fast and furious—but he wants the bad girl to slam up against a wall and nail. He won’t do that to you.”

“I’d let him, if that’s what he wanted.”

“He doesn’t want that from you. I explained the virgin-whore complex, Issie. It’s the way his mind works.”

“So, he’ll probably go looking for it somewhere else…if he hasn’t already.”

“Maybe. But I do think he’s sincere that he wants to make a life with you, or he wouldn’t have married you. So, I don’t know. If he’s not already, I do think that it’s only a matter of time until he will definitely be cheating. That I can almost guarantee.”

“Great. So much to look forward to.” She frowned, then patted Eve’s arm and stood up. “I should go. You need your rest. Thanks for talking.”

“Sweetie…” Eve took her hand and pulled her back down. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I want for you. Now, listen, it’s late. Why don’t you just stay over here? I’ve got a single in the nursery, and it’s all done up. You can be cozy and warm and get up in the morning with a better outlook. And by the time you get home, he’ll be frothing, and he’ll be so well-behaved, you’ll think he’s been lobotomized. Anyway, I want you to see the nursery while you’re here.” She lowered her voice. “And what did you think of Tad?”

“He’s gorgeous. Breathtaking, even. He almost didn’t look real when he answered the door.”

Eve dimpled. “I know. I can’t believe how beautiful he is. Sometimes I lie in bed and just watch him sleep. I’m completely in awe.”

“You’re perfect together. Too stunning for words.”

“Wait till you see him dressed up, though I like him fresh out of bed. Come on. I’ll show you the baby’s room.”

“And tell me more about Tad. What’s he like? Other than gorgeous?”

She paused, one hand on the wall for support. “Tad? He’s…he’s the kindest man I’ve ever met. The kindest person. He’s smart and ambitious and ridiculously creative. He’s so talented. He did the nursery. He’s good to his parents—actually, really loves his mother. He’s very funny, Issie. He makes me laugh all the time. He’s really good for me. I’m trying to figure what he gets out of this deal, but he keeps telling me he’s happy. Then he rubs my back until I forget what we were talking about, so there’s that. Magic fingers.”

“Magic fingers. I like that,” Isabelle said.

She allowed herself to be led up the stairs into Eve’s guest room, which had been transformed into a sweet nursery done in sage green and lilac. There were frog princes dotting the wall behind the crib, with the rest of the walls in the same soft lilac as the crib set.

“I think it’s relaxing,” Eve said, gesturing toward the walls. “Tad did all the painting and the stencils. We just hope Laurel likes it.”

“Laurel?”

“Oh! Yes. That’s the name we’re on this week. I keep trying it out. Last week it was Anais. Tad’s partial to Victoria. I said no to that. What do you think?”

“I don’t know. Laurel’s pretty. I like Danae. Victoria sounds regal, but a little stuffy.”

“That’s what I said. Too stuffy. I don’t want her to be stuck with a snooty name. Marcus is still lobbying for Xandra.”

“That’s a good one. Original. How about Emmeline?”

“I said no vowel names, so Tad suggested we name her Tadaveve. That’s when I ignored him for being silly and not taking it seriously.”

“I like that! It’s like Genevieve, only more personal! That’s the two of you all smashed up.”

“Right, and she’s going to come out looking like Othello. Watch.”

“Evie!”

“Hey, love knows no color.” She shrugged.

“Evie!”

“No. I made a baby with a Nordic god. She’ll be eleven feet tall and have lips like pillows.”

“A Nordic god, huh? Is he from Norway?”

“Nah. But I’ve said more than enough on that. You want a hot bath? I’ll bring you some cocoa.”

“No, thanks. I’ll just get settled. You go and get back in bed.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve kept you up long enough.”

“I don’t actually sleep much. I have to pee too often. I’ll bring you a nightgown.”

“Thanks.” Isabelle smiled wanly, suddenly feeling very tired. As Eve left the room, she sat down on the bed and thought she would just rest her head a second while she waited. The next thing she knew, someone was easing the shoes from her feet and draping her with a light blanket, and she was just too weary to move.

She slept until late in the morning, then rose and rinsed her mouth out in the bathroom sink, washing her face and running Eve’s brush through her hair before heading down the stairs to find her sister cursing her way through a pre-natal yoga DVD.

“Morning.” She waved.

“Afternoon,” Eve corrected, heaving herself off the floor with a grunt. “Yoga while you’re pregnant is just fuckery, but I do it anyway. Marcus has already introduced me to the trainer he’s lined up to get me back into form after Babykins is born. He fully expects me back into my pre-unplanned-pregnancy clothes within three months. It’s insanity. So, I’m doing this, this fuckery now. Fuckery!” she growled at the television screen. “Did you rest well?”

“Afternoon?”

“Well, barely. The clock just struck twelve. Your idiot husband’s been calling me. I told him I hadn’t seen you since last night.”

“Oh God,” Isabelle groaned, rubbing her hands along her nose and cheeks. “I have to go. The party’s in two hours.”

“Do you want some tea first?”

“No, I—thanks for everything, Evie,” she said, bending to kiss her sister on the cheek and give her a quick squeeze.

“Anytime,” Eve replied, waving as Isabelle hurried out the door.

She ran to the car, passing Tad on the way and thanking him as she went. “Lovely to meet you!” she called as she disappeared around the hedge.

Traffic was atrocious, but she still managed to make it home within a half hour. The house was empty, so she texted Dominic that she was there before hurtling up the stairs to have a shower and dress for the reception. She was just finishing putting the final touches on when Dominic came home, his hair freshly cut, a new suit slung over his shoulder.

He was stone-faced, clearly unhappy, but he said hello and headed to the bedroom to get himself dressed. Isabelle wasn’t sure what to do. Eve had said that he wanted to chase her and that he would be worried and well-behaved. Maybe her sister didn’t know the man as well as she thought she did.

When he was dressed, he walked out wordlessly and presented Isabelle with a long, thin, velvet box. “I was an arse,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what took her breath away—the diamonds sparkling up from the black silk lining of the box, or the realization that Eve was exactly right. There was no thinking about it, though, as he clasped the necklace for her. Even if diamonds weren’t her favorite, when she looked in the mirror, there was no denying how perfectly the style suited her.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, meeting her gaze in the reflection.

“I am too. I shouldn’t have run off like that,” she said, turning to face him and sliding her arms around him. “I didn’t plan to stay out all night. It just got late.”

He nodded. “I wasn’t the nicest to be around,” he admitted. “Do you like the necklace?”

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled and lean up to kiss him. “It’s beautiful.”

He pulled her close and held her tightly for a long moment. “I love you. I hope you never forget that. Even when I’m being…me.”

“I love you too.”

“So…ready to go do this thing?”

“As long as you’re with me, I’m ready for anything,” she said, smoothing her hands down his shoulders. “You look fantastic, by the way. I love this suit.”

“I thought you might.” He winked, stepping back and checking his watch. “We should finish up. The car will be downstairs in a minute.”

“The car?”

“Yes, I hired a limo for us for today. Arrive in style and all that.”

“Well, you’re just full of surprises today.”

“Every day, baby. Every day.”

When the car arrived, Dominic ushered her in, and she giggled as he pawed at her all the way to the restaurant. Her parents had bought out a favorite Italian place for the night and were very excited for the two of them to arrive. Confetti cannons blasted them as they walked through the door, showering them in sparkling bits of cellophane, and a live band started playing immediately. The first thing Isabelle saw, after being virtually attacked with hugs and well wishes, was the huge cake that had been set in the center of a banquet table. This really was a wedding reception, she told herself, right down to the drunken uncle. Her mother’s boozy younger brother was teetering around, leering at all the women.

Dominic was introduced around to all the relatives and friends he had never met before, including Patrick and his parents, which gave Isabelle a case of nerves but went off without any problems. Fortunately, her mother was in the small group and did most of the talking. Patrick was wearing a suit and looking amazingly handsome, but Isabelle managed not to stare until enough time had passed for Dominic to lead her off to the next group of relatives, this time, his. The first hour was a blur of smiles and congratulations. Then there were toasts to be made and congratulations to be wished and dancing, all of which was carried out in true wedding reception style. The bride danced with her father, groom with his mother, and then they mixed and matched until everyone had a go.

She found Dominic later, surrounded by her mother, Alora, Karen Goodwin, and one of Alora’s closest girlfriends, Liz, talking about Isabelle’s childhood. Liz was cackling over something Isabelle and Patrick had done, and that wound into Alora laughing out another similar tale. Isabelle joined them, winding her arms around one of Dominic’s. His muscles were tense, even though he was smiling.

Alora was about to say something else, but Isabelle cut her off with, “Uncle Bobby is talking to Una,” which sent her striding away with purpose.

Their mother’s head snapped up. “He is not. Bobby is over talking to your father.”

“Oops.” Isabelle smiled. “My mistake. I’m just going to borrow my husband for a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” he said through clenched teeth as they moved away from the gaggle of women.

“Sorry about that. They do like to go on.”

“Especially about your ex-fiancé.”

“He wasn’t my fiancé,” Isabelle corrected, though she hadn’t bothered the night before. “We didn’t get that far before he left to join the priesthood.”

“He’s a priest?”

“No, he’s a doctor, but he was going to be a priest,” she explained, then shrugged. “He changed his mind.”

“He dumped you to be a priest?”

“He didn’t dump me!” she exclaimed and then schooled herself. “We agreed that he needed to follow his vocation. It was gut-wrenching for both of us.”

“But it wasn’t his ‘vocation’? What? Decide he didn’t like altar boys after all?”

She gave him a narrow look. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Well? What reason is there for that, then? Did God stop talking to him?”

Isabelle sighed. “I guess you’d have to ask Patrick.”

“Maybe I will.”

“It was rhetorical, Dominic. There’s no need to ask.”

He hummed at her and then seemed to turn his attention. “You know what this party needs?”

“Um…what?”

“A couple shagging in the loo.” He grinned. “Don’t you think?”

“We can’t do that!” she breathed, her cheeks going red.

“Of course we can. It’s our reception. People expect the bride and groom not to be able to keep their hands off one another.”

She looked around, doubtful. “They’ll notice we’ve gone. What if they come looking for us?”

“Hardly the biggest scandal in this family,” he said, taking her hand and leading her off toward the bathrooms.

“What is?”

“Right now, that.” Dominic snorted, watching Isabelle’s mother swiftly guiding her brother away from one of the girls in attendance. “What’s with him?”

“Uncle Bobby? He’s a drunk,” Isabelle dismissed. “He makes inappropriate comments all the time, but he’s harmless.”