Before Jamaica Lane (4 page)

Braden’s mouth twitched. ‘You could have had that job. I did offer to do everything myself.’

‘But …’ She glanced from him to Ellie to Adam. ‘There was definite emotional manipulation involved. Ellie’s not doing that to Adam.’

Now Braden was laughing. ‘What emotional manipulation? I do believe I said something along the lines of “Well, I’ll plan the wedding, then.” Nothing more. You were the one who got all mushy and grateful and decided to help out.’

Joss’s eyebrows hit her hairline. ‘Mushy?’

‘Uh-oh,’ Ellie muttered under her breath.

I smirked and impishly added fuel to the fire. ‘Joss, you can be a little mushy. You try hard to hide it, but it slips out sometimes.’

‘Uh-oh,’ Ellie muttered. ‘Silly Olivia.’

I shrugged, smiling, as I awaited Joss’s reaction, which was almost always guaranteed to be funny.

Instead she just stared at me, seeming unable to come up with a response. Finally she slumped back against the arm Braden had wrapped around her waist. ‘I don’t do mushy,’ she murmured. ‘I do tender. There’s a difference.’

‘Tender?’ Adam raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Now she definitely looked affronted. ‘I can do tender. Braden, tell him.’

Her fiancé grinned, and my chest did that achy, flippy thing again when he leaned over to press a loving kiss on her shoulder. God, I wanted what they had.

Joss turned to look over her shoulder at him. ‘Was that an affirmative?’

Braden laughed softly and looked up at Adam pointedly. ‘Jocelyn has her own brand of tender.’

The way he said it was filled with innuendo and she rolled her eyes and straightened away from him. ‘Now you’re just being annoying.’ She gave us an indignant stare and insisted, ‘I can do tender.’

‘I believe you,’ I replied, trying not to laugh.

Adam quickly turned the conversation back to whatever it was he was discussing with Braden while Joss pretended to ignore them by pulling out her phone and checking her e-mails.

I nudged Ellie. ‘So what do you think Hannah and Jo are talking about upstairs?’

Ellie glanced up at the ceiling and blew air out between her lips. ‘Hannah’s been quiet lately – I suspect a boy is in the picture. She looks the way she looks and is absolutely hilarious and yet she’s not been out on a date yet?’ Els looked incredulous. ‘That just doesn’t seem right. I think she’s hiding a romance from us.’

‘You must be dying to know for sure.’

‘Oh, I am.’ Ellie’s pretty pale blue eyes were wide
with curiosity. ‘But the most important thing is that she has someone to talk to, even if it’s not me.’

I frowned in thought. ‘Why isn’t it you?’

‘I think she thinks I’d get caught up in it and fail to give her real advice. Hannah is more of a realist than I am. I think if it’s a boy issue she’ll feel more comfortable discussing it with Jo. Jo has a more practical outlook on these things, whereas I might get a little overenthused about it all. I mean, my wee sister’s first romance – that’s huge.’

‘You are so dying to know what is going on with her.’

‘Eh ye-uh, it’s killing me.’

‘Dinner!’ Elodie called from the dining room, and we all shot up as though we’d been starving for days.

We crammed into the dining room, inhaling the aroma of good food. Only three months ago Elodie and Clark had invested in a larger dining table because her Sunday dinners had rapidly grown in size since Joss’s arrival into their lives.

‘Work going okay?’ Dad asked me as we settled into our chairs next to each other.

‘Mm-hmm,’ I answered absentmindedly, handling the hot bowl of mashed potatoes as if they were made of pure gold.

Dad snorted. ‘You’ve got a wee bit of drool on the corner of your mouth.’

‘No, I don’t.’ I slapped the mash on my plate gleefully and passed the bowl to him, then immediately reached for the gravy.

‘What’s with the cartoon hungry eyes? You not been eating right?’

‘I’m on a stupid diet,’ I muttered.

I felt my dad tense next to me. ‘What the hell for?’

‘To torture myself. I’m a masochist now.’

‘Liv, you know I don’t like those fads. There’s nothing wrong with you.’

Oh, no. My confession had probably just bought me one of my dad’s famous food-shopping trips. When I was at college, he’d turn up at the dorm every once in a while with brown paper bags loaded with food even though I had nowhere to put it. ‘I have a full fridge at home, Dad. Don’t even think about it.’

‘Hmm, we’ll see.’

I took a forkful of buttery mash and closed my eyes in sweet relief and said, ‘So good, I don’t even care,’ except I said it around a mouthful of potatoes, so it came out more like ‘Mu muu, u mmu mmm mmm.’

‘Mick, is Dee going to the wedding with you?’ Elodie asked from the opposite end of the table. ‘Last time we spoke you said she wasn’t sure.’

I glanced at my dad, wanting to know the answer to that question too. I had to admit, even though I was a grown-ass woman of twenty-six, it was still weird seeing my dad with someone who wasn’t Mom.

About four months ago, Dad started dating Dee, an attractive artist in her late thirties. Dad had reopened his painting and decorating company in Edinburgh, M. Holloway’s, and hired Jo. He’d already built up a great
reputation and had recently hired two more guys to join their team. Back when it was just him and Jo, they took a job for this wealthy young couple in Morningside who’d bought their first home. It was a fixer-upper. There they met Dee, a friend of the couple who had been commissioned to paint a fairy-tale mural in the nursery. Dad and Dee hit it off. She was the first woman he’d dated seriously since Mom died.

I was very much aware that I should be grateful to Dee. Since her appearance, Dad had less time to worry over me, which he did. A lot. When we decided to settle in Edinburgh, I made a point of getting my own apartment. We’d been in each other’s pockets for a long time, and I really needed my space – I loved my dad to pieces, but sometimes his concern made me feel like there really was something wrong with me. The addition of Dee was at once confusing and a relief. I guessed I should get to know her a little better, because all I knew at the moment was that she was nothing like Mom. My mother was a dark-haired beauty with sharp cheekbones that hinted at the Native American heritage in her blood. Her fantastic bone structure and her dark hair were the only interesting physical attributes she gave me. Somehow a merciless God had not deigned to bestow upon me my mother’s beauty. It was her beauty that caught my dad’s eye, and then it was her dry, often twisted sense of humor – which I did inherit – and then it was the calm around her. Mom could soothe any room just by being in it. She was this incredibly peaceful,
relaxing person, and it emanated from her to every one around her. It was a gift.

Despite her faults – her inconsiderate choices as a young girl – Mom was unfailingly kind, compassionate, and patient, which was why she’d made a great nurse. She’d handled her illness with a grace that always brought a lump to my throat whenever I let myself remember. She was a pretty reserved person, not overly confident, but not insecure or shy. Just quiet. Innately cool. You can’t teach that kind of cool. I should know because I’m pretty sure she tried to teach it to me and it
clearly
didn’t stick. I had no intention of trying to browbeat my inner geek for the chance to be cool. No, thank you. Me and my inner geek were loyal to each other. We had been ever since I was eight years old and my mother told me it was okay to be whoever I chose to be.

‘
Mom, Arnie Welsh keeps calling me a geek. He says it like it’s a bad thing. Is being a geek a bad thing?
’

‘
Of course not, Soda Pop. And don’t listen to labels. They don’t matter
.’

‘
What are labels?
’

‘
It’s an imaginary sticker people slap on you with the word they think you are written on it. It doesn’t matter who they think you are. It matters who you think you are
.’

‘
I think I might be a geek
.’

She laughed. ‘Then you be a geek. Just be whatever makes you happy, Soda Pop, and I’ll be happy too
.’

God, I missed her.

‘Dee was supposed to be visiting some family down
south, but she’s canceled so she can come to the wedding.’ My dad’s answer to Elodie’s question brought me firmly back to the present.

‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Elodie smiled. ‘I really need to have her back over for drinks. And I think I might have another job for her. A woman at work is looking to have a mural painted in her conservatory. She’s converting it into her grandchildren’s playroom.’

‘I’ll tell her.’

‘Are you bringing a date, Liv?’ Clark asked me casually, honestly just making conversation.

For some reason, though, the question pricked me. I was in a weird place about my long-suffering singledom. Still, that wasn’t Clark’s fault. Pasting on a bright smile, I shook my head. ‘Nate and I decided to forgo the hassle of dates and just go together.’

I saw Jo smirk at her chicken.

‘Don’t,’ I warned her under my breath.

She glanced up at me, all innocent and doe-eyed. ‘I didn’t say a thing.’

‘Your smirk said it for you.’

‘I just think it’s nice how close you and Nate have grown.’

Sighing heavily, I looked to Cam for help and hoped he wasn’t in the mood to tease me too. ‘Cam, please tell her.’

Cam slid his fiancée a regretful smile. ‘Baby, they’re just friends. Let it go. It’s not going to happen. Not in a million years. Never. Ever.’

Ouch. That was emphatic
.

‘Nate is hot.’ Hannah suddenly spoke up, and when I looked at her I found Ellie’s pretty sister frowning at me. ‘Why don’t you go out with him? I mean, he’s really, really, really hot. I’d go there.’

‘Please tell me she did not just say that,’ Adam pleaded with the table, looking green.

‘
She
has a name.’ Hannah raised an imperious eyebrow at him.

Joss seemed to be trying not to choke on her food. ‘Oh, she said it all right.’

‘My ears are bleeding.’ Braden looked at Joss for help. ‘They feel like they’re bleeding. Are they bleeding?’

Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sixteen, almost seventeen, I have boobs, a whole bunch of hormones, and I find guys attractive. Deal with it.’

‘Well, there goes my appetite.’ Clark shoved his plate away, looking so despondent that I felt sorry for him.

Seeing his expression, and most probably understanding it better than anyone else at the table, my dad pointed an admonishing finger at Hannah. ‘That was cruel, Hannah Nichols.’

Rather than be cowed by Dad, Hannah made her face split into a gorgeous, cheeky, remorseless grin that made a low chuckle spill from Dad’s lips.

‘Well,’ Elodie said with a sigh, ‘since Hannah has successfully ruined the appetites of her male relatives, that means more dessert for us girls. We’re having sticky toffee pudding and ice cream.’

‘Och … well … you know, I’m feeling much better all of a sudden.’ Adam gestured to Braden, whose cheeks had warmed at the mention of dessert. ‘I could go for some pudding.’

Braden nodded solemnly. ‘Funnily enough, me too.’

Determined to stock up on good food before I returned to my diet-food-laden fridge back at the flat, I wasn’t sure I wanted to share pudding with the boys. No, I wasn’t sure about that at all. I looked over at Hannah and asked evilly, ‘What was that about boobs and hormones?’

The Proclaimers were sing-shouting at me that they’d walk five hundred miles and then five hundred more just to be the man that would fall down at my door. Frankly, I was touched.

‘See?’ I gesticulated wildly. ‘That right there are two men who know what it’s all about!’

Nate caught my hips as I stumbled slightly against the table. His handsome face was kind of a blur, but I could make out his smile. ‘And what’s it all about?’

I rested my hands on his shoulders and bowed my head toward him. ‘Love, Nate. That’s what it’s all about. That’s what
everything’s
all about.’ I shrugged sadly, and yes, very drunkenly. ‘Which means I got a whole bunch of
nothing
.’

‘Uh-oh. Happy drunk turning maudlin drunk. I think it’s time we get you home, babe.’ He stood up, pressing me back.

‘What about your girl back at the bar?’ I swayed into him and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me steady.

After kissing my nose, Nate leaned away and gave me a squeeze. ‘I can get laid anytime, sweetheart. Right now I’m making sure you get home okay.’

‘How d’ya do it, Nate?’ I asked on a sigh, the reception a blur of color and noise around me.

‘Do what?’

‘Get laid all the time?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You just –’ I gestured to the bar but instead whacked him on the chin. ‘Oops, sorry. You just get numbers. I don’t know how to speak to a man, let alone get numbers. Or get laid. La-a-a-aid.’

‘Who’s getting laid?’

I spun around and almost caught Joss in the face with my flailing arm, but she swung back in time. ‘Good reflexes, beautiful!’ I grinned loopily at her.

Joss laughed, shimmering in shapes and swirls in front of me. ‘Nate, I think it’s time you got my bridesmaid home, yeah?’

‘I’m on it.’

‘It was such a beautiful wedding, Joss!’ I threw my arms around her and hugged her tight. ‘But I didn’t get laid!’

Her body shook with laughter as she gently released herself from my death grip. ‘Well, that doesn’t seem right at all. The men at my wedding must be blind.’

‘Och,’ I said, imitating Dad, ‘you’re just saying that!’ I pushed at her playfully but obviously harder than I meant to because she stumbled back, chuckling at me.

‘Nate, get some water in her first before you put her to bed.’

His warm body pressed against my back. ‘I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.’

‘Dude’ – I twisted my neck to look up into his face – ‘you need to teach me to get laid first.’

Nine hours earlier

A guitarist and violinist played an instrumental version of Paul Weller’s ‘You Do Something to Me’ as I walked down the aisle. I flashed a reassuring smile at Braden, who looked tall and handsome in his kilt. He, Adam, Clark, and Declan wore what was called a Prince Charlie gray jacket and matching three-button waistcoat. Their champagne silk ties were intricately knotted against their dark gray shirts, and because the Carmichaels were associated with the Stewart Clan, they were wearing a subdued Stewart Grey tartan. They looked fantastic.

Braden smiled back at me, not a nervous tremor in sight. Grinning at Adam, who stood as Braden’s best man, I took my place on the other side of the altar beside Hannah, Jo, Rhian, and Ellie.

The music seemed to swell as Joss made it to the halfway mark of the aisle, holding tight to Clark – who’d been honored to give her away – as her eyes locked on Braden. She was stunning, and when I moved my gaze from her to her soon-to-be-husband I almost expired on the spot at the look in his eyes.

Wow.

Was there ever a man more in love than Braden Carmichael?

He gazed at Joss in her ivory-and-white dress as though she was the only thing in this world that could or would ever matter. I sucked in a breath, feeling my nose sting with stupid, girly emotion.

I shot a look at Ellie, who had tears falling down her cheeks, and that made me feel a lot less of a goofball. Smiling at her, I watched her sniffle, her cheeks turning rosy.

Rhian, Joss’s university friend, who was a bit of a straight-talker and, honestly, a ballbuster, surprised me by taking Ellie’s hand and giving her a reassuring squeeze.

All of us wore champagne silk floor-length dresses. The dress was sleeveless with wide straps and a sweetheart neckline that draped with the fabric, and it nipped in at the waist, then fell in a straight waterfall to the floor without hugging the body too much. It was a classy design, and we all wore it well, including Hannah, who looked very grown-up, standing three inches taller than me even though we were both wearing kitten heels.

Joss’s dress was simple elegance. It was strapless, with a heart-shaped neckline, and the upper half of the bodice was ivory with crystal beading and lace. The finest white silk chiffon pulled across the bodice in a tight drape, fitted to Joss’s tiny waist. From her hips the
layers of chiffon, shot through with silver, fell to the floor, floating around her – not too puffy, not too straight. Just right. She wore her hair in an almost Grecian-style updo of soft curls and French braids.

When Joss reached Braden, her smile was tremulous and vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. She pressed a kiss to Clark’s cheek and murmured something to him as he slipped her hand into Braden’s.

Braden nodded at Clark and then his focus was back on his bride, his large hand engulfing hers as he pulled her into his side, oblivious to their audience.

He whispered something to her and she whispered back. Whatever she said made him chuckle and lean down to press a kiss to her lips. For a few seconds he just stood there murmuring secret words against her mouth.

The minister had to clear his throat to get their attention so he could start the ceremony, and the guests tittered in their wooden pews.

The music drew to a stop and the ceremony proceeded. I couldn’t take my eyes off Joss and Braden, and I’d be surprised if anyone else could either. Of course, it was their wedding and most people would be focused on the bride and groom, but there was something about how they were together that took you to someplace else.

It was epic what they had.

Everyone
should have what they had.

‘Have you recovered from the speeches?’ I asked Joss as she came over to our table. The speeches were over and dinner was done. Adam had cracked us all up with his best man’s speech, keeping it funny and real and not sentimental. Clark was just as down-to-earth when he gave a speech on Joss’s dad’s behalf, but it
was
sentimental, and very kind and compassionate, and when Joss ducked her head to fight back tears and Braden squeezed the back of her neck in reassurance, I don’t think I was the only woman blotting her eyes.

Finally Braden stood up and gave his speech and, well, if every woman in the room didn’t end up a little bit in love with him, then my name wasn’t Olivia Holloway.

Joss looked radiant, and laid-back. ‘Almost,’ she said in answer to my question about the speeches. ‘I have a feeling that Braden’s speech is a get-out-of-jail-free card for at least the first year of our marriage.’

‘It
was
a good speech.’

‘Tell me about it.’ She smirked, her gaze turning introspective in a way that made me suspect she was thinking naughty thoughts about her husband.

‘So how does it feel?’ Jo asked, her eyes lighting up as she unconsciously rubbed her engagement ring. ‘To call someone husband?’

‘Weird,’ Joss answered abruptly.

Nate snorted and Cam laughed. ‘Is that it?’

She shrugged. ‘It’s the first word that comes to mind.’

I laughed too now. ‘Not “great,” not “wonderful,” not “right”? Just “weird.” ’

‘ “Weird” definitely wins out.’

‘Marriage to me is weird already. Good to know.’ Braden came to a stop behind his wife, a sardonic tilt to the corners of his mouth.

‘Well, I wouldn’t want normal,’ Joss replied.

I gave a sharp nod of my head. ‘Agreed. Normal’s boring.’

‘You would say that.’ Nate smiled at me. ‘You wouldn’t know normal if it bit you in the arse.’

‘Oh, like you would?’

‘I didn’t say I wasn’t weird. I’m just better at hiding it than you are.’

‘Why would I hide it?’ I asked the entire group, my expression deadpan. ‘I’m awesome.’

‘No one would dispute that.’ Nate’s eyes glittered with amusement.

Joss chuckled. ‘If you’ll excuse us, we have more rounds to make.’

We waved Joss and Braden off, and settled into random conversation.

‘Hey, kiddos.’ Dad approached, looking dapper in his dark gray suit. His arm was wrapped tightly around Dee’s curvy waist. She looked stunning in a flowing light blue maxi dress, her long blond hair falling in waves around her shoulders. ‘Dee and I are going up to dance. Care to join us?’

‘Perhaps in a bit,’ Jo answered, her eyes soft as she
looked at the older couple. Her expression said she was happy my dad had found Dee, and as I took in how relaxed he was, I knew for sure I was too.

‘Have fun,’ I said, and grinned at them.

Dee smiled down at me. ‘You look beautiful, Olivia.’ Her eyes swept the table. ‘You all do.’

‘Well, so do you,’ I replied, and immediately beamed happily under my dad’s approving smile.

I watched them walk onto the dance floor, feeling something shift inside me.

Not long after, Cole decided to reduce his boredom by seeking Hannah and Dec’s company, and Jo and Cam wandered off to find Ellie and Adam.

‘Want another drink?’ Nate gestured to my empty champagne glass.

‘Yes. Beer.’

‘You got it.’

I watched him walk through the wedding reception crowd, so at ease with himself. He’d shrugged off his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and waistcoat. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and he’d loosened his tie. I could see most women following him with their eyes, so it wasn’t a surprise when a gorgeous young woman in a light blue, short, fitted dress pressed into his side at the bar and introduced herself.

I had to wait twenty minutes for my beer.

If I’d had Nate’s confidence I wouldn’t have had to wait twenty minutes for a beer. I could have just strolled up to a nice-looking guy, started flirting, and he’d have
bought me one. If I could believe in myself like I knew I should, I could get up off my butt and do just that.

In fact, I was going to.

I searched the room for nice-looking men and pretended I couldn’t find any.

Slumping back against my seat, I mentally kicked myself in the shin, once again frustrated with myself.

After Nate was done flirting his ass off, he came back to the table and shuffled his seat closer to mine as he handed me my beer.

‘She was hot,’ I observed.

The left side of Nate’s mouth curled up, his dimple flashing me. ‘Sorry I took so long.’

‘Did you get her number at least? Or just a promise to hook up at the end of the night?’

His look said
What do you think?

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, looking around the room at all the guests. I barely knew any of them.

‘What would you prefer?’ Nate suddenly turned to me conversationally. ‘Being perpetually stuck at someone else’s wedding reception or at the wake of someone you don’t know that well?’

I mused over this. ‘Do I know the person whose wedding it is well?’

‘No.’

‘Are both reception and wake inside or out?’

Nate took a swig of beer. ‘Is this a weather issue?’

‘Yes.’

‘We’ll give both an even playing field. Inside.’

I turned slightly into him, ready to give him my answer. ‘Okay, I’m going to go with the wake. At the wedding I’d continually have to pretend to be happy, and it is far more exhausting to pretend happiness than it is to pretend sadness. Also, I don’t know the wedding people very well, so I’m not going to know many of the guests well either. At a wedding reception that’s just awkward. Moreover, we’re talking a perpetual sound track of cheesy music, so we’re talking a perpetual migraine. No thanks. At the wake of someone I don’t know I can at least spend some of eternity getting to listen to the stories about that person from each guest. Who knows, maybe the deceased was some amazing adventurer who lived to the grand old age of one hundred. We’re talking lots of stories that are sure to be interesting. There’d be no awful music. I could be miserable if I wanted, but if I couldn’t pretend misery then no one would blame me since I didn’t know the deceased that well. There’s usually a buffet at a wake, so I’m more likely to find something to eat that I’ll actually like. Plus, death always makes people act weird, so there might even be a hot, grieving guy who wants to have sex upstairs in the bathroom with me. That would pass the time.’

Nate had been sitting with his beer frozen at his lips the entire time I’d been talking, his eyes slightly rounded as my explanation rambled on. Finally he said, ‘You put a lot of thought into that one.’

I shrugged. ‘You have to think it through when you’re talking about forever.’

‘Good point.’

‘So what would you choose?’

‘The wedding.’

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Why?’

His smile was cocky as his eyes searched the room. His gaze stopped on the blue-dress girl. ‘Because there are always women feeling sad that they’re single, and they’re more than happy to quell that sadness with the first eligible man in the vicinity.’

‘You’re vile.’

‘Hey, I’m not the one who’s planning to take advantage of a grieving relative for sex in the bathroom at a wake.’

‘Yeah, well, at least I’d have the bathroom to go to. Where on earth are you taking these sad, lonely women if you’re stuck at the reception?’

‘I think the bathroom would work for me also.’

‘A public toilet?’ I arched a brow at him. ‘Have you done that before?’

‘Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.’

‘Oh, I want the answer,’ I replied, eyeing him curiously.

Nate ignored me, staring off at the dance floor. ‘You want to dance?’

With an inner sigh of disappointment, I let him off the hook and shook my beer at him. ‘Get a few more of these in me and then maybe.’

Grinning, he got up. ‘I’ll be right back.’