47. Jude
JUDE
“Who knew you were such a skilled dancer, Husband?” I tease, gazing at Slade as he expertly sways me in his arms.
“It’s the music, Wife. Who could not dance to this?”
I grin, looking at the small stage that’s been set up beneath a canopy of fairy lights. The band has been joined by Tate on the piano and my father on the guitar.
“He’s good,” Slade says.
“And look how much he’s enjoying himself!”
My father smiles at Tate as they play the closing chords, and the guests around us stop dancing and start whooping and clapping.
The sight wraps around me like a warm blanket.
Things have been so much better between my father and me since that day in the restaurant, when Slade broke down the bathroom door.
He even insisted on throwing a family dinner to celebrate the completion of my project at work—the one that received generous anonymous funding.
Funding I’ve since learned came from a certain Dr. Royston Yardley.
It was his way of showing how much he believes in what I do, and how proud he is of me.
The past is being rewritten. Even Slade gets along so well with my father now that Mom and I joke about it. It’s as if there’s a mutual respect between them.
Tate rises from the piano stool, the layers of her fishtail gown swirling around her feet as she walks to the front and they bow together, smiling.
Sullivan stands at the edge of the stage with Molly in his arms, watching Tate with unwavering intensity as he holds out a hand and helps her down.
She grins at Molly, and he pulls her into an embrace with them both before kissing her.
“I thought you got all the romantic traits, but I think your brother might keep surprising me,” I muse.
Slade buries his head in my neck and growls as he kisses it. “You want a skyscraper given to your company to work in, is that it?”
I giggle at his mention of Sullivan doing that for Tate.
“That was romantic. But not as romantic as hand-carved oyster shells containing pearls you’ve wrestled sharks for.”
He chuckles. “Wrestled sharks?”
“Declan said that dive was brutal. I think he uses it as a chat-up line to impress girls. Just go with it.”
“At least fifty. All trying to tear chunks from me. Circling after blood, they were,” Slade says.
I snort. More and more of his fun side is emerging day by day. And I love it.
He rests his forehead against mine, cupping my cheeks. “You don’t mind that you shared your wedding day with my sister and Tate?”
“No. I love it. And I love that Molly was both best woman and ring bearer.”
“She kept everyone together once, and she’s making sure it stays that way.” Slade looks in her direction and smiles as she snuggles into Sullivan’s shoulder, and he kisses her head.
“She has a new helper now too,” I say.
My stomach squirms with broodiness as Sterling moves closer, one arm wrapped around Halliday, the other cradling a sleeping Mattison.
The way Sterling has his arms around them both with such care and tenderness has me melting almost as much as the sight of Mattison’s little mouth lifting on one side like it’s being pulled by an invisible string as she dreams.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Beaufort.” Sterling smiles, shaking Slade’s hand and pulling him into a careful hug. Halliday hugs us both too before Sterling slides his arm around her.
“Thank you,” I beam, still wondering if I’ll ever get used to the name.
We talk with them until Mattison starts to stir, and Sterling excuses them so Halliday can feed her.
“I’m giving this to you, because he won’t take it,” a female voice behind me says.
“Nandi!” I turn and grin, pulling her into a hug. She chuckles, pushing an envelope into my chest.
The moment Slade told me he wanted to hold the wedding near Cape Town, I couldn’t wait to see her and Declan.
We came a couple of days early, and getting to spend some time with them has been amazing.
Although hearing them still call him Woody is strange.
They know he’s Slade. I think they always did.
But to them, he’s Woody, the creative man with the golden soul.
Not the billionaire businessman New York knows him as.
I love all versions. They’re all him.
“You listening, bokkie? You make sure you keep this and don’t lose it.”
Nandi throws Slade a warning look, then points at the envelope.
“Your wife can take care of it. Like she’ll take care of you.” Her face softens and she pulls Slade into a hug. “I’m happy for you. But I miss you. Declan’s good company, but his bed corners need work.”
“It’s good that you only have another week to put up with him, then,” Slade says.
Nandi coughs and Slade studies her, his chest relaxing when she doesn’t break into her usual wheezing.
“Six days,” she corrects.
She leans toward me conspiratorially. “Won me some money in a competition. Don’t even recall entering the thing. But it’s got me a nice little place near my daughter to retire to.”
“That’s amazing.” I smile, careful not to let my gaze flick to Slade. I’m guessing that competition is the same one she's always winning.
Slade’s gaze drops to the envelope as she shuffles away. “What’s in it?”
I tear it open, but before I can look inside, Mel barrels over, her cocktail sloshing around inside her glass.
“Who’s the poor guy?” She jerks her head back over her shoulder.
I look behind her to where one of the guests—a handsome guy with rich wavy brown hair and dark eyes—is locked in what appears to be a heated discussion with the woman he brought with him.
“That’s Rafael Fairfax,” Slade says. “He’s a friend of Sull’s. And he’s also CEO of the company responsible for insuring the entire Beaufort Diamonds brand globally.”
“Wow.” Mel whistles. “Lucky for him he’s used to taking heat then, because his date’s been laying into him since my last cocktail.”
The woman swishes a curtain of inky black hair over one shoulder and gesticulates to him, clearly pissed about something.
Whatever he says in response obviously isn’t what she wanted to hear, and she throws a drink into his face and storms off.
Killian and Jenson pass him a towel from the outdoor bar, saying something to him as he shakes his head and wipes himself down. Once he’s done, he accepts a drink from them, not even glancing in the direction his date stormed off in.
“Was that his wife?” I ask Slade.
He smirks. “Rafe doesn’t do girlfriends, let alone wives. The guy’s a serial dater, always has been. I’ve been gone over three years; it’s comforting to know some things never change.”
“Yeah, some guys never change,” Mel muses, only half-listening.
Her attention is glued on Declan, who’s talking to Sinclair, Denver, Trudy, and Mal.
“You know, Jude. You got all of this out of that dare I gave you.” She waves a hand over me and Slade absentmindedly.
“And it’s all lovely and sexy and wonderful.
But what did I get out of your one-night stand in the dark? ”
I laugh. “Pretty sure you got your promotion you said you’d go for if I went through with it.”
“Career progression doesn’t count. I mean fun stuff.”
I follow her eyes to Declan knowing exactly where the depths of Mel’s gutter mind are going.
“You were supposed to report back on if the hype was justified.” She tilts her head, throwing a flirty smile at Declan as he looks straight at her, holding her eyes over the rim of his glass as he drinks.
“I guess a girl’s got to find out for herself.
Love you both.” She tosses a smile our way before making a beeline for him.
Slade chuckles, and I turn to him, biting back my smile.
My father approaches, his cheeks glowing.
“Sure know how to throw a celebration,” he says.
Slade’s gaze softens as he looks at me. “She deserves the world, and I’ll give it to her.”
I beam as my father nods thoughtfully.
“I know you will, Son. I know you will.” He claps Slade on the shoulder and his eyes mist as he looks at me.
My heart swells as a moment passes between us.
“I think erm…” He clears his throat. “All that playing has made me thirsty. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Dad?” I call.
He turns back.
“I love you.”
His gaze softens, passing from me, then to Slade, and back again. “I love you too, Sweetheart.”
I turn back to Slade, my throat thick with emotion.
“So what was it?” He tips his head at the envelope again, knowing me well enough to see when I need a distraction before I bawl my eyes out with happy tears over how different things are between me and my father.
“I don’t know. Any ideas?” I say, but something about the glint in his eyes tells me he already knows.
I twist my lips in suspicion as I peer inside it.
“A key,” I say, pulling it out by its keyring, which is a tiny heart carved from driftwood.
“Want to see what it’s for?” Slade asks.
Before I answer, he entwines his fingers with mine and leads me away from the party, a heart-stopping smile on his face.
The walk along the shore takes a while. But I don’t mind.
I’m busy soaking up the feeling of being married.
Not long ago, I was getting ready to walk down the aisle to the wrong man.
Now I’m walking underneath a moonlit sky as waves lap at my toes and the man I’m utterly in love with carries my heels and strokes my hand inside his.
Nothing could make me happier right now.
“Nearly there,” Slade says, leading me up the sand toward the tree line.
I’m starting to recognize where we are.
“The hotel?”
“Kind of,” Slade says as he takes me along the path I walked so many times when Mel and I were here for the retreat.
I grin as I spot the first of many hurricane lamps filled with fairy lights illuminating our way.
“We’re going to your workshop, aren’t we?”
Slade slides his eyes to mine. “Not exactly.”
I narrow mine at him in suspicion, but it only makes him chuckle.
“Patience, Baby. You’ll see.”
As we round the corner, his old workshop comes into view. But where a part of the roof was damaged before, the entire thing has been replaced. In fact, all of it looks like it’s had a refresh.