Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 (35 page)

Charlie nodded sleepily, and Toby walked quietly back along the aisle to where Esther sat and handed his son over as the last strains of the song echoed through the church.

“Sorry,” she whispered, her green eyes wide and apologetic.

“Don’t worry. It was nice to have a cuddle.” He smiled and kissed her forehead, then slipped back into place beside Rusty as the vicar asked for the rings.

Dan placed the ring on Eve’s finger. “I, Daniel, give you, Eve, this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you.” She did the same to him, repeating the words and changing the names around.

Toby touched his thumb to his ring finger. How would it feel to wear that solid gold band, a visual reminder to everyone that he belonged to one woman, and she belonged to him? His gaze crept back to Esther, who crooned quietly to Charlie. How would he feel if she promised to love him forever?

The bright autumn sun shone through the stained glass, casting coloured fragments of light like jewels onto the flagstones.

Toby’s lips curved slowly into a smile.

Chapter Forty-One

The vicar gave his closing prayer, and then suddenly it was all over. Dan kissed Eve, and then they walked along the aisle to the smiles and cheers of their family and friends.

Rusty took the hand of Eve’s sister, Carla, who was the other adult bridesmaid, and Toby held his arm up to Faith. She looked gorgeous in her slender blue dress, her bump only just visible.
 

She took his arm and they followed Rusty and Carla down the aisle.

“That was nice,” he said. He winked at Esther as they passed her in the pew.

“Lovely,” Faith said. “I’m sorry we were late. Eve couldn’t find the locket her grandmother gave her and she really wanted to wear it—it was her ‘something old’. She found it in a drawer at the last minute. Was Dan panicking?”

“Yeah. He thought she’d got cold feet.”

Faith laughed. “I guess everyone worries their partner won’t turn up.”

“Did you?” he asked, smiling and nodding at friends in the congregation.

“Of course. This is Rusty we’re talking about. I expected all along that he would change his mind. I was more shocked that he hadn’t vanished.” For the first time in ages, she looked very young and unsure of herself.

Toby’s heart went out to her. They’d known each other a long time, and he was very fond of her. “He never mentioned it once, Faith. He was nervous about the ceremony—which is crazy considering he stands up in front of his class twenty times a week—and he worried that you’d suddenly realise what a mistake you’d made, but he never, ever mentioned not turning up. And you should have seen his face when you appeared in the doorway in that dress. He could have lit the whole of Eden Park.”

Faith bit her lip and to his surprise, her eyes filled with tears.

“Hey.” He put his arm around her. They’d stopped walking while the photographer took photos of Dan and Eve in the doorway of the church. “What’s this about?”

“Pregnancy hormones,” she sniffed. “And weddings.” She smiled brightly. “I just…I wish Mum could be here and see how happy I am, and how happy Dan is.”

Toby’s throat tightened, and he hugged her. He kissed the top of her head. “I asked Esther to marry me,” he mumbled.

She chuckled. “I know.” She pushed herself back. “By text? So romantic, Toby.”

Shame washed over him. Yet again he’d proved to his friends he was an idiot. “Was she embarrassed when the text came through?”

Faith studied him thoughtfully. “That’s not quite the word I’d use, no.”

“What—” But the photographer had finished, and they all moved out into the sunshine to have their photograph taken.

There was no time to speak to Faith alone again. For the next half hour they were in and out of shots as the guests spilled onto the gardens overlooking the beautiful Kerikeri inlet. The sun beamed down on the water, and the kids played under the trees. It couldn’t have been a more beautiful day.

And all the while, Toby’s gaze strayed repeatedly to Esther as a plan formed slowly in his head.

Martha and Graham had bought some natural petal confetti, and they gave Esther a box while Rusty and Toby asked the guests to form a line to the waiting car.

“What’s this?” Charlie asked when she took a handful out of the box.

“Confetti.” She offered the box to him, and he plunged his tiny hand in it and opened and closed his fingers on the petals. “We throw it over Dan and Eve when they go past.”

“Why?”

“Because it looks pretty. It’s a tradition. It’s been done at weddings for hundreds of years.”

She smiled as Dan and Eve began to walk between the two lines of guests, Eve squealing when Carla managed to shove a handful of confetti down the front of her gown. It had been a relaxed and informal wedding, thank God, considering that Charlie had refused to sit still. And yet it had also been somehow strangely beautiful and ethereal with the bright Northland sun crowning the bride and groom with gold where they’d stood at the altar.
 

Or maybe it was just her mood. As the week had passed, her emotions had intensified, like a camera lens gradually bringing the moment into focus. For the last three years, she’d managed to convince herself she’d been mistaken about the powerful feelings she had for Toby. She’d blamed them on the holiday, because didn’t holiday romances always end in disaster? And she’d told herself she couldn’t possibly love him.

But once again, after only a week in his company, the tiny seed of affection had grown and bloomed, until all she could see and hear and think about was him, and how it felt when she was in his arms.

She’d nearly passed out when she walked into the church and saw him standing there, dressed in his best man’s outfit. All men looked good in suits, she’d told herself desperately, but it didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off his broad shoulders in the long black coat. The silver waistcoat and tie emphasised his healthy tan and gave him an exotic, Mediterranean look, as if he were some kind of Greek or Italian prince. Her fingers itched to slip beneath the white shirt and touch the firm muscles she knew lay underneath. He looked like a movie star, and he drew the eyes of every girl in the church. She couldn’t believe she’d been to bed with him.

As Dan and Eve neared, she felt a pressure at her shoulder and turned to see him by her side. He reached across her for some confetti, saying mischievously, “Mind if I dip my fingers in your box?”

“Subtle,” she said as he grinned, but she couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto her lips. “Help yourself.”

“I intend to,” he murmured into her ear, stepping back as the bride and groom neared. She tried to ignore the answering shiver that trickled down her spine, and threw the confetti up over Dan, who stopped and bent his head so Charlie could add his small, sticky handful to the layer coating Dan’s hair. Charlie squealed in delight and Dan laughed and ruffled his hair.

They were such nice people, Toby’s friends and family. She bit her lip and squeezed Charlie to her as Dan and Eve had more photos taken by the car before sliding inside. It had been nice to have a brief glimpse of how things could have been in an alternative world, with a network of people around her rather than it just being her and Charlie. But she had to remember it wasn’t her world. She was just window shopping—that was all.

She tried to remind herself of that fact repeatedly as the day wore on, but it was difficult when all around her everyone was so friendly and welcoming, including her in their social circle as if she’d always been around.

She returned with Martha and Graham to the hotel where the happy couple were holding the reception, and sat with them during the wedding meal. She enjoyed Toby’s and Rusty’s witty speeches when they teased Dan and Eve and told bawdy jokes. She made the most of the beautiful menu crafted by Eve’s chef cousin and inspired by Kiwi “fusion” cuisine—dishes from across the world incorporating New Zealand ingredients.

When the dancing started, Esther watched Toby have the first dance with Faith while Rusty danced with Carla. She wasn’t jealous at the sight of another woman in Toby’s arms because it was so glaringly obvious how much in love Faith was with her husband. Sure enough, after the first song finished, Rusty was quick to pass Carla onto her boyfriend so he could get his hands on his wife.

Esther watched them dance to a slow, romantic number, her throat tightening as Rusty nuzzled Faith’s ear and she giggled in response, pressing up against him. Faith’s tiny bump was barely visible beneath her slinky dress, but nobody could be in any doubt as to her condition if they watched the way her husband fussed over her. He wouldn’t let her lift anything heavier than a glass, fetched her a chair to put her feet up on when she finally sat down for a few minutes, brought her a plate of nibbles from the running buffet, and generally acted as though she was the centre of his whole world—which indeed she seemed to be.

How would it have felt to have Toby there with her when she was pregnant with Charlie? She could remember struggling to load her shopping from the trolley into her car at the supermarket. Having to walk miles to her apartment when her car broke down because she couldn’t afford to get it fixed. Spending long, lonely hours in the hospital when the baby was due because she couldn’t think of a single person she could call to be with her. At the time she’d revelled in her loneliness, using it as a shield to protect herself, grateful that she didn’t have anyone to think about except herself.
 

For the first time, however, sitting there watching Rusty and Faith, Esther finally acknowledged what a farce it had all been. She hadn’t been single out of choice—it hadn’t been a noble decision as an independent, modern woman to have her child alone. She’d been forced into the predicament, and she’d made the best of it she could.

But she would have killed to be in Faith’s position—treasured, treated as if she were the most precious thing in the whole world because she was having her husband’s baby.

Her breath caught in her throat and she took a sip of wine, forcing herself to swallow it down. It was too late for self-pity. She’d lasted this long on her own—she could make it a few more years. Maybe when Charlie was older and a bit more self-reliant, she’d meet someone and allow herself to fall in love again.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Toby standing there, hand extended toward her. “Like to dance?” he said, smiling.

She glanced across at Charlie, but he was occupied with some of the other children, joining them in skidding across the wooden dance floor in his socks. Ten-to-one he’d fall over and start wailing before the hour was out, but for the moment he was happy, following one of Eve’s nephews around. The boy was a few years older than Charlie and happy to boss the youngsters into playing his game.

Toby had taken off the black coat and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, but he still wore the silver waistcoat and tie. His eyes were gentle, as if he’d seen the sad thoughts passing through her mind. He looked strong and healthy and dazzling—if the archangel Michael had been best man at Gabriel’s wedding, he might have looked something like this.

And that’s when she knew. She’d fallen in love with him—again. Or maybe she’d never stopped. Like falling into a deep well, plunging far to the bottom until the light of freedom was a tiny speck way off in the distance. How was she going to climb back out this time?

He reached down and picked up her hand, and then bent and kissed her fingers. “Come on. Dance with me.”

She stood obediently and followed him onto the dance floor, but all the while her mind worked furiously. How could she have been so stupid? How many times had she told herself this was supposed to be just a physical arrangement? She should have kept herself distant and her heart intact. But maybe it was foolish to have ever thought that was going to happen. She’d fallen for the man in a fortnight when he was a complete stranger—what hope had she had once his child had grown inside her?

He led her to the middle of the floor, and even though it wasn’t a particularly slow song, he turned her to face him and brought her close. Her right hand nestled in his left, and he put his right hand around her waist as he began to move her to the music.

“This is hardly a smoochy song,” she complained to take her mind off the gentle affection in his eyes. The heavy bass tried to persuade them to move faster.

“Don’t care,” he said. He pulled her even closer. “I want you in my arms, even if they’re playing Iron Maiden.”

Where had her breath gone? He’d somehow stolen it from her. He was so tall and broad—he oozed masculinity, with his five o’clock shadow on his tanned skin, his unruly black curls and his sexy smile. She wanted to get him into bed.
 

She wanted to cry.

A puzzled frown marred his forehead. “You look sad.”

“Weddings always make me sad.”

“Why?”

Because statistics said many marriages ended unhappily and deep down, she was an old romantic. Because she knew many of the people present there that evening, and their generosity and affection had touched her more than she’d thought possible.

Because she would probably never have a happy ever after like this.

She looked away and forced a smile on her face. “Look at him. Little maniac.”