Chapter 6 #2
David Beaumont was beautiful a way that only young men can ever be, his sculpted runner’s body lithe and agile, his skin at once both supple and rough.
Gwen wondered now what her husband would have looked like at forty-five, the age he would be now had he lived.
If he aged like his father, he would only have grown more handsome, with smile lines instead of wrinkles and streaks of light gray hair to accentuate his chiseled features.
“I’m back,” said Julie.
Across the dance floor, the DJ stood with Hank and Kelly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as most of you know, Kelly’s father passed away several years ago, so he isn’t here today to dance with his little girl.
Hank Jared, brother of the bride, will be standing in his father’s place.
” The crowd clapped quietly, as Luther Vandross’ “Dance With My Father” began to play.
Julie tried not to cry as she watched Kelly struggle to do the same. Hank spoke to his sister, making her smile as he pulled her into his arms. Julie was spellbound by the lyrics of the song, grief for her own father rising up, choking her.
How lucky Kelly was to have Hank to lean on, to make her smile in the middle of such a difficult moment. Watching him talk to his sister as he gracefully moved her around the dance floor, Julie wished for that man with all the concentration and might of a child wishing on a star.
The song ended and Hank wrapped Kelly in a tender embrace before kissing her on the forehead and walking her back to her new husband. Julie watched him take his drink off the head table and make a bee-line back to where she sat with Gwen. As he come closer, she stood to embrace him.
Hank held her, letting her be the first to let go.
“The song,” he said.
Julie nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be. It was beautiful.” She wanted to tell him that Kelly was lucky to have him as a brother, but she was too choked up to get the words out.
Hank’s eyes met hers, then he kissed her on the forehead as he had done his sister, and she clung to him again, reveling in the comfort of his arms.
Lifting her head, she said simply, “Thank you.” Then kissed him on the mouth, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. When they separated, their hands remained together.
“Would you like to dance?” asked Hank.
“No, not yet. I’m waiting for the Electric Slide.”
“A girl after my own heart.”
It wasn’t long before the DJ played the wedding classic.
Marianne stood and raised both hands to the sky, giving a loud holler as she headed for the dance floor.
She pulled family and friends with her as she went, grabbing Hank by the arm and pointing in Julie’s direction.
He did as he was told, heading over to collect her, and she graciously met him halfway to the dance floor.
As they stepped and clapped in unison, Julie couldn’t remember ever having so much fun at a wedding reception. Gwen’s loud, “Boogie woogie woogie,” could be heard over the music, making Julie laugh and smile so wide her face hurt.
None of this is real, she reminded herself. Like Cinderella at the ball, her greatest fantasy was doomed to disappear when the clock struck midnight, leaving this dream in tatters.
Enjoy the ball while you can. Especially that prince.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Hank caught her eye and smiled a wolf’s grin.
There was a promise therein, that he would come to her if she allowed it.
Julie felt her heart leap, pulse pounding, breath coming fast. The music ended and Julie stared back at him meaningfully, then looked pointedly at the door that led out of the basement.
She went first, knowing he would follow.
The air outside was cool. It was warm for December, but she could still see her breath hanging in little puffs.
Footsteps behind her and she turned around, almost lunging into Hank’s waiting arms. Their mouths met hungrily, Julie struggling to get closer, pressing her body to his and angling her head to return his passionate kisses.
“I can’t keep my hands off you.” He kissed her neck and shoulder.
Julie was lost in him, the flavor of his mouth and the smell of his skin. Were they really standing in a church parking lot, making out like teenagers? She felt naughty and daring, the emotions only increasing her excitement. She lifted her head and ran her hands in his thick dark hair.
“I think I like being a convincing girlfriend,” she said between kisses.
His mouth stilled against hers, his hands stopped their exploration of her body, and he pulled back.
“Whoa.” He reached behind his neck to remove her arms. “You sure had me fooled.”
The tone of his voice set off warning bells in Julie’s head, yet she didn’t understand just what she had done. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not a toy, Julie.”
“What?”
He rubbed his hand roughly along his lips. “I’m not here for your amusement.”
She felt as if she’d been slapped. Hank knew they were just pretending. So why was he so angry? It wasn’t like he was really hurt, because he didn’t care about her one way or the other. This was all a facade.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” she said, bewildered. “I thought you wanted me to be convincing.” Julie stood rigidly still, suddenly chilled by the cold night air.
“We should get back,” said Hank, his jaw set.
Julie looked at him beseechingly, already missing their earlier closeness. She wanted to understand why he was upset, her scrambled thoughts not making any sense. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t decide exactly what to say.
The door behind her opened and Ron appeared. “There you are. Kelly’s about to throw the bouquet. Marianne insisted I find you two.”
“We’ll be right there.” The door closed behind Ron. Hank smiled widely and offered his arm. “Ready, honey?”
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Julie, and she pouted, narrowing her eyes at him. She could play this any way he liked. Unless he tried to kiss her again.
That would definitely not be happening.
She mirrored his confident grin and took his arm. “Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He walked her inside and deposited her back at her table before walking off. Gwen smiled widely and handed Julie one of two full Kamikazes.
“Welcome back!” shouted Gwen over the increasingly loud music.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a long swig of the potent cocktail.
“Lover’s quarrel?”
“Something like that.”
“You look like you’ve been making out in the backseat of a Chevy.” Gwen laughed at her own joke, and Julie used her hands to try to straighten her hair.
It was no use. “I’m going to the ladies room.” She stood up to leave just as Marianne came up behind them.
“All the single ladies! That means you two!” said Marianne.
Gwen hopped out of her chair with a flourish. “I’m ready.”
“I was just going to the ladies room,” said Julie.
“Nonsense, you look fine,” said Gwen, steering her toward the dance floor as she winked at Marianne. “I just love the tossing of the bouquet. Such tradition! I’m so glad they don’t mind being sexist.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Julie, then she downed the rest of her drink in one long gulp.
Shaking her head, she worked to change her attitude.
Hank Jared was not going to ruin her evening.
She did some boxing moves, bobbing and weaving.
“Let me at ‘em. Lookout, all you eligible bachelors!” She put her arm around Gwen as they made their way to the dance floor. “The Trueblood women are on the prowl!”
They took their place on the dance floor with several teenage girls, a beautiful brunette, three bridesmaids and a matronly woman with black frizzy hair. One of the bridesmaids turned and rolled her shoulder away from the onlookers as she covered her face.
Julie felt her pain.
The DJ played a drum roll, and Kelly turned her back to the dance floor.
Please, don’t let me catch that damn thing.
Then it was airborne, ribbons trailing behind it like a missile’s tail.
The bouquet bounced off the clawing fingers of a bridesmaid and headed for the frizzy-haired woman, ricocheting off her bust and landing squarely in Julie’s begrudging arms. She looked at the roses and pansies like they were a pipe bomb waiting to explode.
“Woo hooo!” screamed Gwen, laughing. “Way to go, Julie!”
Across the room, Hank leaned on the bar and ordered a scotch on the rocks. Damn if she didn’t look beautiful, clutching those flowers like she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. So sweet and innocent.
Too bad it’s all an act.
“Looks like you have some garter-catching to do,” said his mother, sitting down on a barstool beside him. “A glass of your best Chardonnay, please,” she said to the bartender.
“I hear it’s all mid-shelf. No cheap stuff, but nothing great,” said Hank.
“Bastards,” she answered, smiling. She squeezed Hank’s hand. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for the wedding. Your father would be proud.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
He took a sip of his drink and chewed on an ice cube. “Didn’t you hear? That was just a reasonable facsimile of paradise. Not the real thing.”
“Looked pretty real to me.”
Hank motioned to the bartender. “Julie is a fabulous actress.”
“I see.” Marianne squared her shoulders to face her son, her head tipped to the side. “It must be confusing for her, pretending to be your girlfriend.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she has very real feelings for you.”
Hank scowled at his mother. “I think you’re mistaken.”
“Hank,” she said softly, “a woman can tell these things. And that young lady,” she gestured to Julie across the room, “is completely taken with you.”
When his mother walked away, Hank turned back to scan the room and saw her. She was standing with Gwen next to the dance floor, watching anxiously as the single men assembled for the throwing of the garter.
Ron made his way to the front of the dance floor, Kelly’s garter in-hand, and some possessive instinct had Hank up and on his feet before he could think better of it.
Julie caught his eye as he assumed his place in the group of men on the dance floor, bending his knees like a baseball player in the outfield.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he yelled to Julie. “I used to play shortstop.”
Ron turned his back to the men and threw the garter over his shoulder, which bounced off the low ceiling and landed on the opposite side of the floor. A young blonde man snatched it up and held it in the air victoriously with a loud cheer.
Without missing a beat, Hank walked over and opened his wallet, handing him a hundred dollar bill and taking the garter as the crowd laughed and cheered.
Hank swung his prize around on one outstretched finger, eyeing Julie like a cat eyes a mouse. A warm flush spread from her face to her chest, and he realized he was excited to put the garter on her leg, even if a hundred people were watching.
Anything just to touch her.
A chair appeared in the middle of the dance floor, and the DJ ushered Julie to the seat. For a moment she hid her face behind the bouquet, then bit her lip and forced her hands down into her lap. The theme from Mission Impossible began to play and laughter erupted again.
Hank paced in front of her, planning his attack. Stealthily he walked toward her and kneeled, then he lightly stroked his finger along the blue silk up her knee, exposing her calf.
He uncrossed her legs and took off her shoe, feeling her anxiety in the way she held herself. When he surprised her by tickling her foot, she shrieked, the crowd laughing along with her. He slipped the garter onto her ankle and began inching it upward.
Julie shot him a warning look as he passed her knee, prompting him to look at the crowd for guidance.
The hoots and hollers egged him on, as he knew they would.
He pushed the lace and ribbon up onto her thigh, his eyes connecting with hers once again.
As she looked at him, he felt her legs relax and open to him the slightest bit, the look on her face offering him the world.
Hank had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Julie in that moment.
He felt his fingers tremble. He gave the garter one last pull high on Julie’s thigh, snapping it against her skin and watching her flinch.
Then he retreated, pulling her dress back down as he went.
He stood and helped Julie to her feet before he kissed her, his lips on hers clearly saying, to be continued.