Jason groaned. “Damn. You’ve been brainwashed, too. Next thing I know, you’ll be buckling a ball and chain around your own ankle.”
Smiling a little in response to his security chief’s broad Texas drawl, Bryan thought of how closely he had come to standing in Donovan’s shoes. Twice he had proposed marriage, and twice his plans had fallen through. Now he couldn’t imagine himself waiting at the end of an aisle for either of the women he had considered marrying before, not even as fond as he was of Chloe.
He supposed he should consider himself lucky to have avoided making such a monumental mistake.
The minister entered the room, tapping his watch. “It’s time to line up, gentlemen. We’ll walk into the sanctuary together as soon as the organist gives us the signal.”
Bryan was amused that Donovan stepped forward so quickly. “I’m ready,” he said.
The minister smiled. “I see that you are.”
Bryan and Jason fell into step behind their friend. A short time later, they stood together in front of the church. Groom, best man, and groomsman, standing straight and stiff in their tuxedoes as they waited for the ceremony to begin.
Bryan didn’t know many of the guests, only a few business associates of his and Donovan’s. Chloe’s family and friends and members of her church made up the rest of the cozy assemblage. Her mother was already sniffling into a lace-edged handkerchief. She happened to catch his eyes; he winked at her, eliciting a watery smile.
The little flower girl, the five-year-old daughter of one of Chloe’s cousins, came down the aisle dropping rose petals from a beribboned basket. Her angelic face was creased in an adorable frown of concentration. There was no ring bearer; the rings were stashed securely in Bryan’s pocket. At least, he hoped they were…
A quick, discreet exploration reassured him that the rings were exactly where they were supposed to be. He gave a small sigh of relief and turned his attention back to the wedding procession.
Another cousin of Chloe’s, Angie Parrish, served as bridesmaid, her curly red hair clashing cheerfully with her lavender dress. Bryan had met her at the rehearsal last night. A resident of Birmingham, Alabama, she had a slow drawl and a quick sense of humor. He followed Angie’s progress down the aisle, and watched as she took her assigned place at the front of the church, opposite Jason.
When he glanced back down the aisle, he had the sensation of being kicked solidly in the chest.
Grace was coming toward him, her steps measured and timed to the music, her long, lavender dress fluttering prettily around her. She wore her hair up, baring her slender neck and shoulders, and she carried a small bouquet of white roses in front of her.
She looked so beautiful it made him ache.
He had the feeling she was deliberately not looking at him as she came up the aisle; she seemed to be focusing rather intently on the altar straight ahead of her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He was struck by the utter rightness of this moment—waiting for her at the front of a church.
What, exactly, did that mean?
Still without looking at him, Grace took her place. The organ music swelled and the audience rose to their feet as Chloe entered on the arm of her father. Bryan glanced that way, noted that Chloe did, indeed, look beautiful—and then his eyes turned back to Grace.
Maybe she felt his attention on her. Or maybe it was only happenstance that she finally looked his way. Their eyes met, and held for so long that others must have noticed. But this was no act. It wasn’t romantic posturing for the sake of anyone who might be watching them. They looked at each other because they couldn’t look away—at least, he couldn’t.
The ceremony proceeded, and Bryan and Grace managed to perform their responsibilities as best man and maid of honor. Bryan got a lump in his throat when the minister pronounced Donovan and Chloe husband and wife. He swallowed, then broke into a big grin when Donovan kissed his bride. Grace, he noted, had a sheen of tears in her eyes, but he knew her too well to think she would let them escape.
He still remembered the day less than a year earlier when he had confided in Donovan that he wanted to marry and start a family. Donovan had listened to Bryan’s carefully thought-out plan for finding the ideal bride and then had said it sounded to him like a disaster waiting to happen. He hadn’t understood why Bryan was in such a hurry to get married or to have kids. As far as Donovan was concerned, he and Bryan were both better off being free of marital responsibilities, able to concentrate on business, to travel at will, and to spend their time doing exactly what they wanted without worrying about checking in with anyone else.
Who would have believed then that only a few months later it would be Donovan taking marriage vows while Bryan, still single, looked on?
Donovan and Chloe turned to walk back down the aisle together. Bryan stepped up behind them, offering his arm to Grace, while Jason and Angie fell into step behind them. He doubted that anyone else noticed Grace’s momentary hesitation before she rested her hand lightly on his arm. She was avoiding his eyes again. He leaned over to murmur in her ear, “You look stunning.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Think we could bribe the minister to perform another ceremony? I’m game if you are.”
Her steps faltered a moment. Through a frozen smile, she hissed at him, “That isn’t funny. Behave yourself.”
He wondered what she would say if he told her that he wasn’t entirely sure he’d been teasing.
Grace never expected that Bryan would be a life-line she would cling to during the wedding reception. She had planned to avoid him as much as possible while still carrying on the pretense that they were a happy couple. But as the evening wore on, she found herself using him more and more as a buffer between her and everyone else.
Bryan was so good at this socializing thing. He knew exactly what to say in response to even the most trivial small talk. He was particularly adept at diverting questions he didn’t want to answer without offending the asker. Grace envied his tact and forbearance; she could have used a little of it herself.
She had developed a strategy of her own for coping with too-personal remarks. Every time someone asked about her plans for the future, she smiled, took a sip of champagne and let Bryan field the question. She did that a lot during the course of the reception. Might as well make use of his talents for this one last big event, she rationalized.