On Hart's Boardwalk (On Dublin Street 6.7)

I giggled because he sounded smug as hell. “Yeah, baby, we’ve still got it.”

Chapter Eleven

Ice cream dripped down my fingers as it quickly melted under the heat of the afternoon sun. Today was definitely the hottest day of our vacation, and we’d decided it was just too hot to do anything but lie on the beach.

However, Nate and I tended to get bored. Lounging around was great for a few hours, while we caught up on our reading, but then our minds started to wander. I think we were just so used to racing after kids and working all the time that it was hard to be truly at rest.

After I suggested we give up our beach loungers and head to Antonio’s for ice cream, we did just that, walking along the boardwalk hand in hand, trying to lick our dessert before it became nothing but a sticky mess on our fingers.

Contentment shimmered through me as we strolled. The last ten days had been miraculous, and even though I couldn’t wait to see my girls, I was also grateful for this vacation with my husband. It felt like we were in an even better place than we had been before our disconnect. It was almost like being together for the first time all over again.

“Wedding.”

“What?” I wrinkled my nose at the random word Nate had uttered.

He lifted our joined hands and used them to gesture ahead of us. I followed the direction and stilled at the sight up ahead. Standing outside Paradise Sands Hotel was a bridal party.

“How did we miss that?” Now Nate pointed to our right toward Main Street, and sure enough somehow we’d missed the wedding ceremony. The bandstand was decorated and there were rows and rows of seats in front of it, where guests were still lingering.

The bridal party was following a photographer as the guests slowly made their way onto the boardwalk.

“I forgot Bailey mentioned there was a wedding reception at Vaughn’s hotel this week,” I said. “She told us at the beginning of the week.”

“Aye, I remember. Nice place for a wedding.”

“Beautiful,” I agreed. “I love weddings.”

Nate squeezed my hand. “It was a wedding that brought you and me together.”

We shared a secret smile, remembering how if it wasn’t for me getting wasted at Joss and Braden’s wedding and admitting to Nate I hadn’t had sex in years, his sex lessons would never have happened, and we might never have fallen in love.

We watched the guests start to pick up speed as it seemed the photographer was done with the photographs for now and everyone began to head into Vaughn’s hotel.

“Dinner time. Toasts. Those are the best.”

“Fancy going?”

I made a face at my husband. “What?”

He shrugged. “In a few hours dinner will be over and everyone will be on the dance floor. Free champagne and canapés.”

I giggled and then realized he was serious. “You’re not joking?”

“Nah.” He flashed me those dimples. “C’mon. Let’s crash a wedding.”

* * *

* * *

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I said a couple hours later as we walked into the wedding, pretending we belonged there. The ballroom of the hotel was decorated with strings of fairy lights and pink peonies. The chair covers were white with pale pink bows on them, and the centerpieces were tall, thin vases filled with pink peonies.

People paid no attention to the couple walking in who did not belong there, and a passing waiter offered us a glass of champagne.

Nate smirked at me as we took one. “Free champagne,” he said under his breath.

“Where are the canapés?” I said, not under my breath, searching the room.

“Buffet table.” Nate nodded to the right, where crowds of people had gathered near a table strewn with after dinner snacks. We’d already eaten, but neither of us was going to turn down free food.

My friends had bought me a teal print maxi dress with a halter neck, a deep-cut back, and a beautiful flowing skirt. Matched with silver sandals and my hair pinned up, I could pull it off as a summer wedding outfit. Nate wore a crisp white shirt, suit pants, and his dress shoes.

My husband, of course, could wear anything and look like he belonged.

Handsome bastard.

I nestled into his side as he led me over to the buffet table and began to fill up a plate for me before he got his own. As we stood, munching on free food and looking at the full ballroom, I felt the urge to burst into immature giggles and stopped myself.

We were crashing a wedding, for God’s sake.

Our gazes met and we shared a silly grin, clearly thinking the same thing.

The smile was knocked off my face when someone bumped into me, nearly sending my plate of snacks flying.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” A tall, slender woman in a pink bridesmaid dress held up her hands in horror. “I didn’t spill anything on your dress, did I?”

“No, I’m good, it’s okay,” I assured her.

The guy at her side smiled apologetically. “We’ve had a little too much champagne, thought we’d come over and eat something.”

“By we, he means me.” She rolled her eyes.

Nate and I smiled congenially.

The bridesmaid looked over Nate for a moment in a speculative way. “We’ve never met, I would remember. How do you know Angel? Or are you friends of Mark?”

Her companion raised an eyebrow at the somewhat flirtatious tone but let it slide.

Nate stepped closer to me. We knew from the signs outside the ballroom that we were crashing Angel and Mark Ashley’s big night. “I used to work with Mark. A few years ago. They invited us to the reception.”

“Oh my gosh, I love your accent,” she said, distracted. “Where are you from?”

“Originally Scotland.”

“How cool is that?” She turned to her guy.

He gave her a teasing smile. “Very cool. Now let’s get you something to eat.”

“Find me later.” She gestured to us. “I’ve never met a Scottish person before!”

As soon as they were out o

f earshot, I turned to Nate. “Your accent is a problem. It makes us stand out.”

“Duly noted.” He began shoveling the food on his plate into his mouth.

I chuckled. “What are you doing?”

He had to swallow a canapé before replying. “This stuff is good. I’m getting my fill of free food before we have to get out of here.”

“And I want one dance before we leave,” I said, following suit with the food.

“Anything else?”

“You still haven’t stripped naked and dived into the ocean at night, so that’s on the agenda.”

My husband shot me a baleful look. “Fine. But to heat up, I’m making love to you on the beach after.”

Arousal shot through me. “Absolutely no complaints from me on that one.”

After we’d eaten, avoiding conversation with anyone else, Nate took my hand and led me onto the busy dance floor. I relaxed into his arms and followed his easy sway, loving that my husband was such a natural dancer. The solid feel of him against me, his arms wrapped around me, was the only thing in the world that made me feel utterly safe and protected. We held on to each other, dancing slowly to “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol, and as always when I was with him like this, I forgot where we were, or that anything but Nate existed.

After a few dances, Nate kissed my nose and whispered, “I’m ready to leave this wedding behind, babe. Why don’t you grab another champagne—it’s free, after all—for the both of us, while I nip to the men’s room.”

I nodded, watching him stride out of the ballroom with his easy gait, before I sauntered back over toward the buffet area where there was a table filled with flutes of champagne.

As I was collecting two glasses, I felt the heat of someone at my back. I glanced up to find a tall blond grinning down at me. He was cute in an edgy surfer boy way, and at least ten years my junior.

I raised an eyebrow, wondering why he was just standing there smiling. “Champagne?” I asked, thinking maybe that was what he was after.