Chapter 43
43
SOPHIE
O n the day of Martin’s wedding, Sophie was delighted to see Gavin looking more put together than he ever had. He showered, used some mild product to tame his unruly hair, shaved, and put on a finely tailored black suit. She wore a long, form-fitting pale pink sheath that was suitably subtle so as not to take attention away from the bride.
“We’re fucking gorgeous,” Gavin said with a mischievous smile as he wrapped his arms around her from behind while she checked herself in their bedroom’s full-length mirror.
She laughed and reflexively leaned into him as she turned to kiss him. His body reacted to the pressure of her backside against him and he moaned.
“We have time?” he asked.
“You’re the best man, baby. We should have already left.”
“Ah, I’m sure Marty can use some extra time to recover from last night.” He pulled her to face him and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Do I even want to know what kind of trouble you got him into?” she asked.
“Probably not. Let’s just say, he got a taste of what he’ll finally get from Celia after the wedding.”
“You’re not saying that Celia is going to go from being a pious virgin to a stripper for him, are you?” she said with a laugh.
“That would be amazing,” he said with a laugh. “But no. Just that he’s revved up.”
“I hope he didn’t tell her what you orchestrated for his bachelor party. It will only make her judge you more.”
Celia had planned a traditional Catholic ceremony in a nineteenth-century stone and stained-glass church on the Southside of Dublin. The nearly ninety-minute service would include a full choir, multiple Bible readings, and communion for those who would take it. Gavin wasn’t actively anti-religion, but he had lost all comfort from it when his mother left, and he had made it clear for the last six months that he had no intention of taking communion. This conflict had resulted in Celia casting aspersions on the idea that Gavin was fit to be Martin’s best man, but there was no changing either side’s position on the matter.
“I will not be judged by Celia Rogers, of all people,” he said with a scoff. “She’s got her man, that’s all she needs to worry about.”
“And I’ve got mine,” she said with a sexy smile as she grabbed him over the fly of his suit pants.
“We have time. I know we do,” he said, backing her up against the bed.
“But we’re all dressed up and perfect,” she protested mildly.
He pushed up her dress and cupped her ass. “You’ll be even more perfect sitting on my face, darlin’.”
That made her catch her breath. “And then?”
“And then you can ride me until you come again.”
She swallowed. “And then?”
He grinned. “Then I’ll turn you on your side and get an even better feel of your tight pussy as I fuck you until I come.”
With this image, she could feel her nipples go rigid. “And then?”
His hands squeezed her ass with urgency. “Then we’ll go to church and act like we haven’t just ravaged each other.”
She bit her lip. “Sounds like a plan.”
They caused a stir when they arrived at the church as it was surrounded by eager photographers from various tabloids and legitimate papers. As usual, Sophie took Gavin’s lead and smiled as he chatted amiably with the paparazzi and posed before they made their way inside.
Sophie spotted Shay and told him, “Shay, you look so handsome.”
“Thanks,” he replied, his cheeks coloring. “You’re lovely as ever.”
“You two taking notes for your own wedding, then?” Conor asked as he approached them.
Looking at Conor, who also wore a smart suit that fell beautifully on his frame, a wave of emotion passed through Sophie. She realized that these boys who she had grown to love back in school were all men now. It was a wonderful thing to see.
“We’ll not be doing a church wedding, that’s for sure,” Gavin replied with a grin.
“Ah, he says this in the house of the Lord.” Conor laughed but also crossed himself for good measure.
A woman giggled at this and Sophie saw that a petite blonde was standing partially behind Conor. It was Conor’s girlfriend, Sondra Delaney. She was an actress on Fair City, the long-running Irish soap opera and Sophie recognized Sondra as the notorious man-eating home-wrecker of the show. She was also “temporarily” living with Conor. When she and Gavin were in Switzerland, Sondra’s apartment had become unlivable due to a massive renovation, so she took the opportunity to move in with Conor. And her designs on a future with Conor were clear.
Conor pulled her fully into their circle and they all greeted each other.
“We’ll sit together, love,” Sondra told Sophie, “since the lads have their thing.”
Sophie smiled. “Sure.”
“Darlin’, I better go find the groom,” Gavin said. “I’ll see you after.” He kissed her quickly before moving off.
The ceremony was lovely but long and formal enough that everyone seemed relieved to head to the reception which was being held at a nearby hotel ballroom. The atmosphere was wild as waiters dodged the young children who were let loose from parents ready to have a good time. But mostly, it was a joyous occasion with a lively mix of contemporary and traditional Irish music, and enough free-flowing Guinness to please everyone.
Sophie finally got some time with Celia well after dinner had been served and once again marveled at how the sweet woman was so completely unprepared for the rock ’n’ roll world her husband was devoted to. There was something na?ve in the way she went on about the bizarre feeling of having press around her, especially given the fact that she had confessed upon their first meeting to being positively obsessed with the tabloid version of Sophie and Gavin’s story. This suggested to Sophie that as long as the focus was not on her, Celia was only too happy to indulge in the gossip scene, and that made her slightly wary.
With Gavin in full social mode, Sophie was left to observe the party, but she didn’t mind. She enjoyed watching the little ones form their own dance routines, the older folks drink a bit too much and show off dance moves that should never otherwise be seen, and the utter contentment on Martin’s face at it all. Not even seeing Gavin chatting briefly with Julia bothered Sophie.
When Gavin disengaged from his conversation with Julia, Sophie watched him scan the room. He located Shay who had retreated to a table at the far corner of the room and looked miserable on his own. Shay brighten when Gavin pulled him toward the bar.
She had early on recognized the dynamics in the band— Gavin looked up to Conor, Conor tried to appear like he needed no one, Shay worshipped Gavin, and Martin was just happy to be in the mix. All of that was on display here.
Turning her attention to Conor, she watched as he danced with Sondra, and intuitively knew there was something missing with their pairing. They had made a splash with the local tabloids, as they were a gorgeous couple. The contrast of his height and dark hair with her curvaceous but petite frame, combined with their own areas of fame, was appealing. But there was something needy in the way she clung to him, and Sophie suspected Conor wouldn’t tolerate it for long.
The two separated on the dance floor and Sophie lost track of them. She was sitting at a table with the boyfriends of Celia’s sisters, who were also part of the wedding party. Her thoughts drifted to Felicity, their old school friend. Felicity had hoped to come to the wedding but ultimately had to decline in deference to her university obligations in Toronto, where she had moved a couple years back. Sophie imagined the good time they would have had, and was sad that they wouldn’t have the chance to catch up.
“Dance with me.”
She looked up to find Conor holding his hand out to her.
“Sondra’s gone off for a ciggie. I need a partner,” he explained when she hesitated.
Then he made the decision for her by pulling her by the hand to the feet. On the dance floor, he held her close and led her in slow movements. She could smell just the barest trace of cologne on his skin and was surprised to find herself leaning even closer to him to inhale deeper.
“So, what do you think of my girl?” he asked.
She focused on his deep blue eyes. “You two seem pretty serious.”
“In what way?”
Smiling, she watched him for a moment. “Well, I guess because you’re living together. And she talks as if having a future with you is a forgone conclusion.”
“She wants to marry me,” he said.
“Does she know you’re not going to?”
Conor raised his eyebrows with a small smile. “And how do you know that?”
“It’s obvious looking in from the outside. She’s not the one.”
The smile left his face. “And who says there is just one, anyway?”
“I do,” she replied matter of factly. “And you will too, one day. When you find her.”
“You and Gavin are really something with your romance and drama. Not everyone operates the way you two do, you know? It doesn’t have to be the be-all and end-all with another person.”
Sophie shook her head a little as she looked at him. “Don’t you know, Connie, that love is all there is?”
He was struck dumb for a moment, then scoffed. “You’re drunk, honey.”
“I’m not,” she replied, though she probably was. The champagne had been delicious.
“Drunk on love if nothing else, then.”
“Yes, definitely that.”
“The lyric is ‘All you need is love’ anyway.”
“Now you’re talking.”
With her heels on they were at eye level and he met her gaze with a small smile again. But there was something more than amusement in it now. It was obvious he was charmed by her, and that fleeting moment from the New York rooftop came to mind. He had teased her with his touch then, and she knew he’d been playing games with her. This was different, though. There was such warmth in his eyes. Then the expression faded as the music abruptly segued into something fast-paced, and he excused himself to go find Sondra.