Before Jamaica Lane

5

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.’

Suddenly the room shifted and the soft mattress of my bed was under my back, the ceiling of my bedroom in my line of sight. A feathery touch on my feet had me pushing up onto my elbows and I saw Nate taking off my shoes. After I almost knocked Joss off her feet with a serious lack of coordination, Nate had been as good as his word and had gotten my drunken butt in a cab and practically carried me up the stairs to my flat.

‘I haven’t had sex in seven years,’ I blurted out, not caring if Nate knew this embarrassing fact about me.

His head jerked up at my confession as he pulled off my right shoe. ‘Are you kidding?’

I shook my head, pouting a little.

‘Seven years?’

‘Seven years. I’ve slept with one guy, Nate, once. It was awful. I was awful. I’m crap at sex, I can’t flirt. I’m a loser.’ I felt tears prick my eyes and flopped back against my pillow.

Nate finished taking off my other shoe. I felt the bed dip at my side as he sat. ‘Come here, you.’ He pulled me up and I melted into his arms, his chin resting gently on my head. His warm hands rubbed my back soothingly and in response my drunken tears fell silently.

‘You are not a loser,’ he told me gruffly. ‘You could never be a loser, Liv, and I don’t want to hear you call yourself a loser again.’

‘Okay,’ I mumbled.

We sat in the quiet for a while and then I decided since he knew so much he might as well know everything.

‘There’s a guy at the library. A student. Postgrad. I like him, but I sound like Rain Man every time I try to talk to him.’

Nate made a choking noise in the back of his throat.

‘Are you laughing?’

He cleared it and answered shakily, ‘Never.’

He was so laughing.

‘It’s not funny,’ I told him grimly and pulled wearily out of his arms to fall back against my pillow, my eyes finally drifting shut. ‘I’m going to die alone, Nate.’

And as unconsciousness pulled me toward it, I thought I heard him whisper, ‘Not on my watch, babe.’