Sophie's Path (20 page)

Love. The ultimate drug.

“Oh, Sophie, dear.” Mrs. Beabots waved to her with a white-gloved hand. She was wearing a beige-and-gold braid-trimmed vintage Chanel suit, a white straw hat with a black ribbon and a black quilted purse with gold chain strap. As always on formal occasions, she was the epitome of 1960s chic. Sophie had heard it rumored that Mrs. Beabots had actually met Audrey Hepburn in Paris, but Sophie didn't believe it. Stories like that grew in small towns like moss on the north side of a tree. Neither had deep roots. But she couldn't deny that Mrs. Beabots had style.

Sophie couldn't help scanning the guests once again for Jack. She felt a lump in her throat. Maybe he wasn't coming.

Sophie turned to Maddie apologetically. “I should go sit with Mrs. Beabots.”

Sophie wasn't sure, but she thought she saw disappointment flit across Maddie's face. “Sure, Sophie. You go ahead. We'll save a place for you at our table for supper. Don't worry—Mrs. Beabots will be sitting with us, too.”

“Thanks,” Sophie replied, and as she turned away, she felt a distinct warmth blanket her, as if she were cocooned in love. It was the same feeling of unconditional acceptance she got from her family. Was it possible these people all truly felt that way about her? Or was this feeling just part of the celebratory atmosphere? After the wedding, would it fade like twilight in the evening?

Sophie refused to think the disturbing thoughts that had defined her life for too long. She'd always found it difficult to accept gestures of friendship. In the past she'd been afraid of rejection. Maybe she still was—a little.

Sophie eased her way past an enormous white bird of paradise in a Chinese urn, then slid into the row where Mrs. Beabots sat, settling into the chair next to her. Mrs. Beabots patted her knee.

“You look scrumptious.” The older woman practically giggled. “Oh, I just love weddings. People are so happy.” Her eyes roamed across the room. “And they're so well dressed!”

Sophie couldn't help but laugh as she followed Mrs. Beabots's gaze. She saw handsome Mica Barzonni move away from his brothers and talk to Isabelle Hawks, Charmaine Chalmers and Scott Abbot. Just past them she recognized Cate Sullivan, Louise Railton and Julia Melton, Olivia's mother. Nearly all the guests had caught her eye and had given her a sign of recognition. Sophie smiled back and realized that none of them seemed surprised by her presence.

This was all Katia's doing.

Katia had told the others that she accepted Sophie as a friend, and she'd done many things to include Sophie as one of the group. Sophie glanced at Mrs. Beabots's smiling face.

No doubt Mrs. Beabots had a hand in it, as well.

Sophie berated herself for being suspicious, for believing she wasn't worthy of friendship, and for being a self-sabotaging idiot. Maybe part of her transformation had to be learning to take people at face value. Maybe if she did that, she wouldn't be quite so serious and uptight all the time.

The music swelled and the standing guests scurried to find their seats. A tall, handsome, gray-haired man dressed in formal judges' robes entered the room and took his place in front of the fireplace.

“That's Judge Lantz. Do you know him?” Mrs. Beabots asked Sophie.

“No, I don't.”

“Handsome man. His wife died four years ago. Cancer. Poor thing. I liked her a lot. He loves to travel but now has no one to go with him. I was thinking he'd get a kick out of Louise.”

Sophie's mouth fell open. “Are you trying to set her up?”

Mrs. Beabots smoothed her bobbed platinum hair with her palm. “I'm just helping. Louise is always going down to Florida in the winter. She takes those cruises to the Caymans and the West Indies. She has a niece in Paris, you know. Maybe the judge and Louise should go to Paris and check on her.” She winked.

The music rose in volume and all conversations stopped.

Austin and Rafe entered the room and stood next to each other at the mantel, facing the guests as the music continued to play. Sophie recognized the piece; it was from Puccini's
La Bohème
, one of Sophie's favorite operas. This was Musetta's waltz, “Quando me'n vo.”
The Italian music, her grandmother's flowers, the romantic atmosphere—all of it was making Sophie sentimental, nostalgic. Astonishingly, her eyes misted up. She'd never cried at a wedding—until now.

She wiped away her tears as Austin's face exploded into a megawatt smile. The music swelled again to announce the bride's entrance. Everyone turned toward the staircase.

Liz descended the steps first. Mrs. Beabots put her hands on Sophie's shoulders and whispered, “I predict the baby will be a girl and look just like Liz.”

“If it's a boy, I hope he looks like his father,” Sophie replied quietly. She couldn't imagine a man being any more handsome than one of the Barzonni brothers. Except... Her thoughts trailed off as Jack Carter, dressed in a black tux, snowy white shirt and bow tie appeared on the staircase escorting a resplendent Katia toward the living room.

Katia's strapless ivory satin gown was simple and elegant. There wasn't a scrap of lace, a crystal or pearl in sight. The bodice was nipped in at the waist with a satin wide tie that formed an enormous bow at the back then trailed down the voluminous skirt. Katia wore her auburn hair up in a shower of tendrils that were sprinkled with rhinestones. On her ears were Victorian-style chandelier diamond earrings that Sophie had no doubt were real.

Jack walked Katia to the front of the room, kissed her cheek and gave her hand to Austin, who stepped forward and linked her arm in his.

Sophie thought she'd never seen two people so in love in all her life. Except for Liz and Gabe, who were blowing each other kisses across the room. And except for Maddie and Nate, who sat with their arms entwined, nearly cuddling in the row in front of Sophie. Or even Sarah and Luke, who sat across the aisle with Timmy and Annie. Luke kept winking at Sarah and each time he did, Sarah smiled and blushed.

Sophie had just torn her eyes off Sarah and Luke when she realized Jack had come to sit down in the seat next to hers. She felt a
whoosh
, as if his presence had filled a vacuum she hadn't realized existed. His familiar, spicy scent enveloped her.

He briefly glanced her way. Sophie felt her heart melt, turn to flame and then explode. She smiled. “Hi.”

Without shifting his gaze from the bride and groom as the judge began the ceremony, Jack whispered, “You're stunning.”

“So are you.”

Jack turned to Sophie and held her gaze.

Sophie knew she'd gone into A-fib.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A
S
SOON
AS
Judge Lantz said, “You may kiss your bride,” pandemonium struck.

The gorgeous sunset Katia had dreamed of for her wedding had disappeared beneath ebony skies. The light filtering through the windows vanished and the room turned dark.

Just as Austin took Katia in his arms and kissed her, a huge bolt of lightning split the horizon, followed by another and another. Thunder rolled and shook the windows.

Sophie cringed. Katia had planned to serve the dinner outside on the terrace.

Everything would be ruined.

The guests shuddered and groaned.

Katia pulled away from Austin, her eyes wide, and then she started laughing. Austin let out a huge guffaw.

“What's so funny?” Sophie asked Jack.

Jack was stifling a chuckle of his own. “Austin proposed in the middle of a tornado. If there was going to be a summer storm anywhere within the three state area, it would be right here, right now.”

“What kind of bad luck is that?” Sophie asked.

Jack grinned mischievously. “The dramatic kind, I'd say.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let's save the day.”

Sophie followed Jack out of the living room as the guests rose and leaped into action. As Sophie and Jack raced down the hallway, Sophie heard Katia giving directions about how to move the dining tables, bar, flowers and hors d'oeuvres into the house.

In the kitchen, Olivia and Julia were already rearranging serving dishes. Daisy, the housekeeper, dressed in an ice-blue silk suit, was tying her apron on.

“I knew I should never have agreed to be just a guest. It's all hands on deck!” Daisy groaned as she started clearing the island of dishes. “What a mess this is going to be.”

Sophie smiled compassionately at Daisy as Jack opened the door. “Nonsense. It's the most beautiful wedding I've ever been to, and this is just a glitch.”

Daisy waved a wooden spoon at Sophie. “I like your attitude. Now go!”

“First, can I have some of those dish towels?”

Olivia handed Sophie a stack, and she rushed through the door. The wind whipped through the trees and ripped leaves off the branches. Already, the small tent with the pretty hanging baskets of yellow begonias looked as if it would be yanked off its stakes. Under the tent were four round tables draped with white cloths, which were fluttering wildly. The gold-rimmed china glinted as the next bolt of lightning lit the sky.

“Hurry!” Sophie shouted as Jack gathered plates and she scooped the cutlery into the kitchen towels.

“Can you get the wineglasses?” Jack yelled above the mounting thunder. Then he took off carrying a huge stack of dinner plates to the house.

Sophie left the bundles of silverware on the tables for a second trip and crammed a half dozen glasses in the crook of her left arm instead. Another gust of wind lifted the table skirt high enough to disrupt the floral centerpiece and flip it over. She ran to the house and deposited the glasses on the kitchen table.

Katia was helping Daisy, Julia and Olivia with the food.

“What are you going to do?” Sophie asked.

“We'll eat in the dining room instead of having the buffet in there. People will just have to serve themselves from the stove and island. My mother and I set that table for twenty-two when she worked for the McCrearys. We can do it again. The kids will just have to scoot together on the ends. We'll be fine.”

“It'll be fun!” Sophie interjected. “Just like a big Italian family meal.”

Katia beamed. “Exactly.”

Jack handed off the plates to Luke, who took them to the dining room. “We'll get the rest in before the rain hits.”

Timmy ran into the kitchen, an iPhone in his hand and held high for Katia to see. “My mom got the Doppler up. It says tornado warnings!”

Katia started laughing again. “Go show that to Austin. This is just too hysterical.”

Timmy shook his head. “Brides are crazy.” He ran away, calling for Austin.

Sophie and Jack shot out the back door and were halfway to the tent when they felt the first fat raindrops. They had just made it under the canvas when sheets of rain began to sweep across the clay tennis courts, the terrace and the pool, nearly cutting off the view of the house.

“Was a storm even predicted?” Sophie asked, slightly out of breath as she peered at the downpour.

“It was supposed to go way north of us. That's why Katia turned her nose up at the forecast. She said it couldn't possibly storm on her wedding.”

Sophie grinned. “Hmm. Is that misplaced faith?”

Jack gathered up the remaining wineglasses that the wind threatened to smash. “These look precious.”

Sophie nodded. “Antiques. I bet they were Austin's grandmother's. Here, I'll take them.”

Sophie heard a banging that was different from the thunder and the sound of wind rushing through the trees. “What's that?”

Jack looked around. The banging continued.

“It's coming from the house,” Sophie said. Then she spotted Katia standing at a window on the second floor, holding something black in her arms. “What in the world?”

Sophie whirled toward Jack. “You brought Frenchie to the wedding?”

He scrunched his shoulders, holding his palms up guiltily. “She was invited. What could I say to her? She saw me getting all dressed up in my tux.”

“You're saying the dog was jealous?”

“She's French.”

“You don't know that for a fact.” Sophie was enjoying their humorous banter. “Still—” she glanced back at the window “—I think Katia's trying to tell us there's a problem. I'm going to bet Frenchie is afraid of thunder.”

“Thunder?” Jack repeated. “I hadn't thought of that. She's probably terrified. And I'm not there.”

Sophie nodded. “Right, she's got separation anxiety.”

“Uh-huh.” Jack seemed to be doing some mental calculations. “I'll put the dinnerware in my pockets. Good idea about the towels, by the way.” He whipped one of the tablecloths off the table and held it over his head. “We can't hold the party up. So, here's my plan. This tablecloth will be our umbrella.” He pointed at her gold sandals. “You need to take those off. Once we start running, it'll be slippery. You could trip.”

Sophie chuckled. “Afraid I might break the glasses?”

“I don't want you to get hurt.” He smiled impishly. “
And
I want to protect the glasses.”

His smile went straight to Sophie's heart. She believed him. Was that a bad thing, like Katia ignoring the dire weather predictions?

She bent down and peeled the sandals off.

“Here. I'll carry your shoes,” he offered. “You take the glasses. I'll hold the cloth over both of us. And we run.”

Sophie positioned the glasses in her arm as she had before then slipped her fingers around the stems of four more. “I'm ready.”

Within three strides, the pounding rain had soaked through the cloth and Sophie felt her hair getting wet. Two more strides and they were halfway to the house. She heard Jack muttering under his breath. By the time they reached the terrace, she realized they were carrying a massive amount of water on their backs. Her dress was damp. They scooted under the awning by the back door, and Jack whirled the tablecloth away from Sophie. In the process, he dumped water all over himself.

“You're drenched!”

“And you're not exactly dry!” he chortled as they went inside.

Sophie put the glasses down on the table next to the others she'd brought in. “Let's check on Frenchie.”

Jack took Sophie's hand and just as they started toward the hallway, Sophie slipped on her wet feet. She hit the floor hip first, still holding on to Jack.

“Sophie! Are you all right?” He bent down to help her up, but then he slipped, though he didn't fall.

“Jack, be careful!” she said, helping him regain his balance as she rose off the floor. She took hold of his upper arms and remembered all too well the toned biceps she'd seen when he'd passed her on a run. He was rock solid. Just like his personality.

She stood, took her sandals from him and said, “If I'd been wearing these I probably would have broken my ankle.”

“Don't even think it,” he groaned as he gripped her around the waist. “Too painful. A sprain is bad enough.”

“You're really wet,” she commented as another clap of thunder rumbled through the house.

Jack's eyes widened. “That was close. This storm isn't moving on as fast as I'd thought it would.” He marched toward the staircase. “Let's go see about my pup.”

Katia was waiting at the door to the master bedroom, holding a shivering Frenchie. “Jack, she's absolutely terrified. I didn't want to leave her, but I have to help out downstairs. Austin's been calling me on his cell. He can't find the silverware.”

“Shoot!” Jack patted his jacket. “It's all here. In my pockets.” He withdrew the bundles that Sophie had made up.

Katia handed Frenchie to Sophie while taking the silverware from Jack. “Great. I'll figure out supper. I put out towels and a hair dryer for you both to clean up. Thanks for saving the day, Jack.” Katia kissed him quickly on the cheek, then breezed past them, her satin skirt filling the staircase as she descended.

Sophie speared Jack with a quelling look. “She says that to you all the time, doesn't she? Saving the day and all. That's not a Jack-ism, is it?”

Frenchie licked Sophie's chin. She barely noticed and stroked Frenchie's head unconsciously.

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, moving into the master bedroom and taking off his sopping jacket.

Sophie followed him in and glanced at the massive iron four-poster French bed covered in a beige-and-gold duvet and a pile of matching pillows. In the middle of the bed was a pink doggie blanket and the teddy bear they'd bought Frenchie at the pet store that first day. Sophie felt her heart melt another fraction. Frenchie sprang out of Sophie's arms and directly onto the pink blanket. She cuddled around the teddy bear, still shivering, though measurably less now that Jack was in sight.

Jack continued into the bathroom and picked up a towel to dry off his face, shirt and shoes.

“The teddy bear,” Sophie said, pointing at Frenchie. “She seems attached to it.”

“She is. We picked it out together, as I remember.” He came to the doorway, still scrubbing his hair with the towel. “You and I, that is.”

Sophie eased around Jack and found the hair dryer, then turned it on full blast. “Come here,” she ordered.

“My hair's dry enough,” he said, but he moved closer, anyway. “I could dry yours for you, though.”

Sophie dropped to her knees to hide her blush and started drying his pants' legs. “If you let the water set, there will be a permanent stain around the edges. As soon as you can on Monday, take the tux to the cleaners and ask them to work on these water stains. Maybe you can save the suit.” She was rambling.

“The jacket is probably toast, but it was worth it.”

Sophie continued drying his pants' legs, pretending she hadn't heard what he'd just said. She was thankful she was on the floor because being this close to Jack, in this intimate setting, had turned her bones to jelly.

Jack reached down and gently pulled Sophie to her feet. He took the hair dryer from her and turned it off. Suddenly, the room seemed as quiet as a church at midnight.

“You can't help it, can you?”

“What?”

“It's just in you to always help,” he explained. “The broken, the wounded, dogs, anyone in pain. Me included. Do you ever put yourself first?” He didn't wait for an answer. “If you do, I certainly haven't seen it.”

He put his palm on her cheek and stroked her temple with his thumb. His eyes roamed her face slowly, as if memorizing it. “You didn't dry your own hair, which is quite wet. Still beautiful. But wet. You didn't towel off your dress, which probably needs to go to the cleaners just as much as my tux. Maybe more. My tux is a decade old. And that's new, isn't it?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured with only a tip of her head. She couldn't take her eyes off his. Something monumental was happening to her and for the first time in her life she didn't want to stop it, slow it down or change course. She wanted to meet it head on. Fling herself over the waterfall and see if she survived.

Her gaze dropped to his lips. She felt hers trembling. She wasn't afraid of the thunder like Frenchie, but the storm inside her heart terrified her.

She'd kissed him before.

But now, things were different. She was different. What if Jack wasn't feeling the spark she felt? What if he chose his own guilt, his prejudices, over her?

And if he did, could she live with that? What would she do? Her grandmother always told her that once she'd tasted paradise, she'd never be satisfied with life on earth. Now Sophie knew exactly what she meant. Jack held the key to heaven for her. She felt it. Knew it in her heart and soul.

She put her hand over his. “Jack, we should go downstairs.”

“We should do a lot of things. But we won't.”

His kiss was more explosive than the thunder outside. Sophie had felt safety and gentleness the first time their lips had touched, but this...this was powerful and meant to be shattering. He slipped one hand to the nape of her neck while the other clung to the back of her dress, pressing her closer to him.

Sophie allowed the kiss to take her to another world where there was no party downstairs, no obligations to anyone. Just the sea of longing and desire she was floating on. This universe had been built solely for Jack and Sophie. She'd never explored it before. She sensed, but couldn't be certain, that he hadn't, either.

Sophie's muscles had dissolved to molten lava and her bones barely held her upright. She sagged against Jack and when she did, his strong arms reeled her to his hard chest. She held his arms for the longest time, but as the kiss lingered, she wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered to his embrace.