'No,' I said. 'I don't suppose we would have ended up here.'
'That's a girl.' Sean slapped my back. He turned towards the door.
'You're going?' The words were out before I could think better of them.
He rapped a playful drum roll on the frame. 'You bet, Madame Bride-to-be. I need my beauty rest or no one's going to believe I really am the best man.'
He was whistling as he pulled the door shut behind him, and I wondered what he had to be so happy about.
For all my hand-wringing, the wedding went swimmingly. We were married in the little church where Joe was
baptised
. Happily, the priest did not keel over when he saw my
sequinned
sapphire gown - the same backless gown Joe had demanded I wear to
Halloran's
. The short veil was dyed to match and I carried a bouquet of blue violets. Personally, I loved the way I looked, despite the whispers it inspired. My father, who did forego his golf date, said he wouldn't have bothered if he'd known it was going to be a costume ball.
On the brighter side, Sean's sister, the security expert, scored a coup by sending the paparazzi on a wild goose chase to the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul. The only pictures the media were able to print were the few Joe's publicist released.
Our pint-sized receptionist, Cheryl, sang a song Joe composed especially for the ceremony. I was biased, of course, but I thought it was beautiful. My mascara was down around my neck by the time the last note trailed away. That pleased Joe. Every time I sniffled, he had to hide his grin.
I caught my mother sniffling, too. When she hugged me afterwards, she conceded that this young fellow and I seemed to suit and maybe Tom and I simply weren't meant to be.
That alone was worth the price of admission.
Joe and I stood side by side at the head of the receiving queue. Every so often, we'd turn to each other and exchange loopy grins. I noticed Cheryl and Keith had sat together, not come together but sat together. This sign of romantic progress pleased me. Everyone should do this, I thought as I thanked the people filing out from the pews. Their well wishes might have been the profoundest poetry, so strongly did they move me. I hadn't known I'd feel so happy, hadn't dared hope.
This is going to work, I thought, brimming with joy. We will live happily ever after.
Then Sean reached the front of the queue.
I opened my arms without a word.
Hands lighting on my waist, he pressed the traditional bridal kiss to my lips - or so it must have seemed. Only I felt the nip of teeth on my lower lip, only I tasted the lightning-quick flicker of his tongue, and only I knew that the subtle clasp and release of his hands on my hips mimicked the age-old rhythm of coitus.
His boldness made me want to laugh. Long live the bad boy.
When he released me, his eyes gleamed with mischief. I couldn't help smiling back. As one, we threw ourselves into a bone-cracking embrace.
'I'll miss you,' I said against his ear.
He chuckled. 'Don't count on it, babe.' His hand slid down to my bottom and squeezed me through the slick, cool sequins.
Then he pushed me back and held me at arm's length.
'Remember I'll never hurt you,' he said.
A strange thing to say ... until I saw the kiss he gave the groom.
Rising slightly on his toes, he slanted his full, sensual mouth over Joe's startled one. It was a
tongueless
kiss, but devastating - light as air, subtle as silk. My own lips tingled at the sight. I knew how soft those lips could be, and how hard the hands that slid down Joe's tail-coated back. Sean urged their bodies close enough to touch from lip to ankle. He'd been half-hard when he hugged me, and now his cock stood out flagpole stiff. Shorter than Joe, the tip caught him just below the crotch. The moment the extra pressure registered, Joe's knuckles whitened on Sean's arms. I could almost read his thoughts. Should he push him away and risk hurting his feelings? Or trust him to stop before he caused a scene?
His indecision cost him. In a few short seconds, his best man's kiss took a predictable toll. Joe's cock jerked upward, lifting the smooth black cloth of his trousers. Not one to miss an advantage, Sean sidled their legs together. Their erections brushed. Joe flinched. His hips swayed forward, then back, as he fought the seductive pull.
When the people queued up behind Sean began to murmur, Joe gathered his strength and broke free.
The entire exchange lasted less than half a minute.
As shameless as ever, Sean winked at Joe and tipped an invisible hat at me.
'See you after the honeymoon,' he said.
Joe shook a scolding finger. Despite his grin, I knew Sean had shaken him - not so much by kissing him, as by making him react so forcefully.
Colour
stained his cheeks and a vein pulsed double-time above his crisp white collar points.
I stared sharply at Sean, without effect. Still smirking like the cat that stole the cream, he stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
'What goes around comes around,’ he said.
Then I understood.
Once upon a time, Sean had used me to hang on to Joe. Now he would use Joe to hang on to me. Joe would not, could not tolerate my seduction. But perhaps he would tolerate his own. If he saw that his love for Sean sparked no fear in my heart. If he saw that I, too, missed our precarious balance of three. And I knew Joe missed it. That rocket in his pocket wouldn't lie, not on our wedding day.
When Sean finally turned to go, the bounce in his step did not surprise me.
'
Hm
.' Joe slung his arm around my shoulder and leant conspiratorially close. 'Why do I feel as if we should invite him on the honeymoon?'
His words delighted me. 'Don't be so sure he won't pop up,’ I teased.
Joe squinted at me, shocked-father-style. 'You two make a very naughty pair.'
'Yes, we do.' I reached under his tail coat to pat his cheek. 'Impossibly naughty.'
Joe licked the curl of my ear. ‘I suppose I'll have to show you and Sean who's boss.'
The prospect sent a carnal shiver through my sex. I couldn't imagine how Joe would master both of us. 'Well.' I gave my veil a saucy flip. 'You have my permission to try.'