Careless Rapture (8 page)

“I can’t go back inside,” Jackie gasped. “Oh,
god, when the guy started singing.”

“How about the pastor?” Clay pretended to
hold a Bible and said in a formal tone, “‘Love is patient, love is
kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.’”

Jackie covered her mouth in mock honor. “Dare
you mock these sacred words?”

Clay looked down his nose. “I do not mock, my
dear. I merely wish people would choose another damn verse. I
believe God himself must roll his eyes, thinking, ‘Not again.’”

“We’re not being kind.”

He nodded. “I rather like it.”

“What can we do now?”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“We have to be back for the send-off.”

“Why? To throw stones?”

She playfully pushed him. “You’re being
mean.”

“He is your
ex
-boyfriend.”

A wicked grin spread on her face. “Perhaps
tiny pebbles then.”

Under a canopy of trees cringing against the
wind of an uncommonly balmy day, they walked up the street toward
the main road. When they reached the road, they spotted a food
cart. Without words they headed toward it.

“What would you like?” asked the vendor, a
big man with a bigger smile.

“Mike and Ikes,” they said in unison.

He checked his supply, then said, “Sorry,
only have one left.”

Clay turned to her. “So what are you going to
get?”

She narrowed her eyes. “There are words for
men like you.”

“Come on, little girl. Don’t waste the man’s
time.”

For the first time she bristled at the
reference. He’d called her little girl before, but this time it
vexed her. She wanted him to see her otherwise. She asked for
Skittles. Clay paid, then they headed back to the church. Once
there, Clay peeked inside and saw that the ceremony was still
going. They sat on the top step. Jackie watched shadows drift on
the ground and squirrels sprint across the street and under cars.
Clay handed her the box of Mike and Ikes. “You can finish it.”

She grasped her chest. “Oh, my goodness. You
do have manners.”

Clay grinned. “No, I just want some of your
Skittles.”

She sent him a look, then traded candy.

“So if you were to get married, what would
your wedding be like?” she asked.

He leaned back on his elbows. “Well, I’d have
them play ‘The Wedding Song’ and then—”

She hit him. “Be serious.”

“I don’t know. Something quick. Get the deed
done and go on with my life.”

“Me, too.”

He looked at her, surprised. “Really? I
thought women liked big affairs. Haven’t you dreamed of this moment
your entire life?”

“No. I’d like a small wedding and a big
honeymoon.”

He nodded. “Good idea.”

“Yes,” she said dryly. “I have them
sometimes.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the
church. “Do you regret coming?”

Jackie thought about it as she felt the
breeze against her face and watched a robin dart between the trees.
A bus rumbled past in the distance as she glanced down at the cold
cement step. She was at her ex-boyfriend’s wedding and she didn’t
care. She didn’t feel heartbroken or discarded, and she knew why.
Jackie looked up at Clay with his shadowy eyes that at times were
so serious, yet could hint at fun, then glanced at his mouth and
wondered if it was as tender as his hands. “Not at all.”

He patted her on the back, nearly pitching
her forward; unfortunately, he didn’t know his own strength. “Good,
that saves this day from being a total disaster.”

“Why did you decide to come?”

“I didn’t have a date lined up and thought I
might as well go with you.”

“So this is a date?”

He shook his head, popping a Skittle in his
mouth. “No, this is two people spending a Saturday doing something
ridiculous.”

Jackie looped her arm through his. “And
enjoying ourselves.” She smiled.

He felt a warmth move through him. He’d
always wanted her to send one of her bewitching smiles his way. But
to his surprise something twisted inside him. A feeling he’d never
expected. He wanted her. The realization nearly knocked the wind
out of him. He could no longer explain his feelings away as a mere
curiosity. It was pure lust. He drew away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when he abruptly
stood.

“The ceremony should end soon.” To his relief
they heard the sudden sound of applause from inside the church. The
ceremony was over.

***

Gold and silver ribbons draped the reception
hall. Classic beaded place-card frames sat on cream-colored brocade
tablecloths among frosted votive candles engraved with the couple’s
name. On each table sat a bouquet of “Black Beauty” roses
surrounded by pompom moss. It was a joyously festive event that
started with toasts, was followed with a scrumptious meal, and
ended with dancing. Jackie and Clay remained seated.

Clay picked up an olive with his fingers.
Jackie slapped his hand as he popped it in his mouth. “Stop that.
Where are your manners?”

“I’m supposed to be crude.”

“Yes, I know, but people are staring.”

Actually, only women were staring. She didn’t
blame them. Clay in a tux was a sight to behold. Only he could take
a civilized outfit and make it look almost primitive. Female eyes
were magnetically drawn to him. Particularly one pair. She’d been
doing so most of the evening. Jackie shifted her chair closer to
Clay. She saw the woman stand and for a moment wondered when she
would stop. She was at least five feet, ten inches of mostly legs
and a chest of enviable proportion.

Jackie jumped to her feet. “Let’s dance.”

He lifted his glass. “I wasn’t hired to
dance.”

She tugged on his sleeve. “Clay, please.”

He set his glass down and shrugged. “Fine.”
He stood and glanced around the room. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she said, heading toward the
dance floor.

“There’s no use dancing if he doesn’t see us.
I thought you wanted to make him jealous.”

“Right now I just want to dance.”

He pulled her into a dancer’s embrace.

She drew back, shocked by how quickly her
body responded to him. Heat flooded her cheeks.

Clay looked at her, confused. “What’s
wrong?”

“You shouldn’t hold me so close.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I just think we should have some
distance.”

He looked at her as though she were a little
strange.“Why?”

“That’s just the way you’re supposed to
dance.”

“How can we look like a couple if we dance
like we’re strangers? Just trust me on this.” He pulled her close.
She hoped he couldn’t feel her heart pounding. She had to focus on
something besides his arm around her waist, his lean physique, and
the woodsy scent of his cologne. She glanced around the room and
saw Legs. Jackie sent a triumphant look at the woman.

“Her name is Iyana,” he said.

“Who?”

“The woman you’re glaring at. She gave me her
number.”

Jackie looked up at him, shocked. “When was
that?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She turned away and frowned. “You shouldn’t
have accepted.”

“Why not?”

“Because then you look as though you’re being
unfaithful to me.”

“Would you like me to kiss you?”

Jackie jerked her head back, surprised. “No!”
Yes.

Clay shrugged, resigned—he couldn’t win.
“You’re the one who suggested I could meet women.”

“
After
the reception, not during.” She
rolled her eyes. “Some date you are.”

“She learned I was an investigator and
wondered if I could help her.”

Jackie frowned, disgusted he could fall for
such a ploy. “That’s just a line.”

“I know, but it can be interpreted in two
ways. We can flirt while still looking faithful.”

“
Looking
faithful?”

He nodded. “Yes, her husband’s here.”

“She’s married?”

“Which is of course a turn off. I don’t like
married women. Their husbands get in the way. And then if the woman
has kids, being introduced as Mommy’s ‘special friend’ gets
tiresome.”

Jackie stared at him, skeptical. “You’re
making this up.”

“I was wondering when you’d catch on.”

“Your sense of humor is as warped as
Cassie’s.”

“I guess Eric is the only Henson with a sense
of humor.”

“A birth defect.”

“At least I succeeded with my goal.” He
smiled.

She liked that expression. It seemed for a
moment to wipe the shadows from his eyes and reveal the man
underneath. “Goal?”

“I distracted you.”

He didn’t need to tell a story to distract
her, his hands were doing a good job. He held her casually. It was
her imagination that made them feel as though they were burning
through her dress, heating her skin, and that maybe, just maybe, he
held her closer than he needed to. She didn’t mind.

He abruptly stopped. “I see him.”

“Who?” she asked absently, lost in a
daze.

He gently shook her. “Brian.”

Who cares?
“Oh.”

“Come on. It’s time to introduce
ourselves.”

“He saw us in the reception line,” she said,
not wanting the dance to end.

Clay ignored her and dragged her across the
room where Brian stood with friends. Jackie stared at her ex,
wondering how she could have dated him for so long. Their
relationship would never have progressed. She glanced at Darlene,
who spoke to her bridesmaids. She was dainty, cultured, and
perfect. Brian’s match. Jackie, on the other hand, wasn’t the type
of woman he wanted and never could be. She’d been silly to think it
would have become serious. The truth of that stung. Clay nudged her
forward.

“Hi, Brian,” she said.

He turned and smiled warily. “Hi, Jackie.”
The other men melted away, sensing a possible scene.

“I wanted to wish you joy.”

“Thank you.”

“This is my date, Clay.”

Clay shook his hand, then slipped into a
British accent, “Hallo. Quite a palava you have here.” Jackie’s jaw
dropped; he ignored her. “But I haven’t been to a wedding in
donkey’s years.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone.
“Couple months ago went to a christening. It was so boring I
thought of gluing me eyes open. Well, best be off and let you two
chat a bit. Bye, love.” He quickly kissed her on the forehead.
“Look after her for me.” He pushed her forward, then left.

Jackie balled her hands into fists, watching
him leave. “I will definitely kill him one day,” she muttered.

“What did you say?” Brian asked.

She turned to him, smoothing her features
into a smile. “Oh, nothing.”

“Your date seems like an okay guy. Doesn’t
seem your type, though.”

Her eyes shot daggers at the man now
surrounded by a crowd of women. “It was short notice and I thought
I needed a change.”

“Yes, you deserve that.” He took her arm and
led her outside to the patio where a string of lights dotted the
darkness like fireflies. “You deserve a lot of things.” His eyes
swept her face. “You look beautiful. Especially with the moonlight
touching the crystals in your hair clip.”

“Uh, thank you,” she said, uncertain.

Suddenly his face crumbled. “Her parents
won’t give me the money for a few years. I’ll have to put my career
on hold. Oh, Jackie.” He drew her close, then burst into tears. “I
don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Stunned, she tried to pull away. “Get a hold
of yourself.”

“Oh, god.” He sniffed. “I’ve just made the
biggest mistake of my life.”

She opened her purse and handed him a tissue.
“No, you haven’t.”

“I have,” he said in a gloomy tone. “Perhaps
I invited you here hoping you would somehow stop me or force me to
stop myself. What am I going to do?”

Jackie patted him on the back as though he
were a little boy. “You’re going to relax.”

He rested against the wall. “I can’t believe
I married her again. I know she has great family connections and a
perfect background. Then there’s the money. But I have to wait
three years for it. Three years with her before I see a penny.” He
sniffed again. “How will I cope? She used to nag and nag and nag.
She still does.” He raised his voice to a falsetto. “‘Brian, make
sure the maid dusts’, ‘Brian, hire the lawn company’, ‘Brian, check
the heater to make sure it’s at the right temperature.’”

Jackie tried to sound sympathetic. “Yes, but
remember all the things you missed when you were apart?”

“I can’t remember one thing right now.”

“You’re just having cold feet.”

He looked doubtful. “After the wedding?”

“Yes, once you’re on your honeymoon,
you’ll—”

He shook his head. “No big surprise
there—I’ve already slept with her as a married man and we’re going
to Pennsylvania so she can buy antiques. What am I going to do?” He
held his head then let his hand fall. “I’ve ruined your life, too.
You’re dating a man obviously beneath you trying to get over me. I
realize there’s a raw appeal women have for men like that, but he
won’t take you far. Don’t suffer because of me.” Jackie bristled;
Brian didn’t notice. “I don’t know what I will do.”

Jackie shifted, growing impatient. “Think of
your career, your aspirations. Your wife can help you achieve
that.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “You’re
right.” He began to smile. “Yes, you’re right. I’ve only been
delayed, not stopped. I’m glad you came.”

Jackie sighed, annoyed. “You’ve already said
that.”

“Do you think your date would mind if we
danced?”

“Probably not, but I don’t think we should.
You should dance with your bride.”

Brian stuffed the tissues in his pocket.
“I’ve got ten years to dance with her.”

“Only ten?”

He looked amazed. “You don’t expect us to be
married longer than that, do you? The percentage of second
marriages lasting is even lower than the first.”