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As Timeless as the Sea Page 5
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Ginger pressed her fingers to her lips. Fred’s bottom lip was trembling. Even Sam looked emotional.
Jace glanced at Sandi, and saw her eyes glistening.
“I’m thrilled that you asked me to be your best man,” he said to Sam, somewhat hoarsely. “And I’m sure I’m not the only one to say I’m delighted to see you married to such a wonderful woman. I’d like to wish you a long life together filled with adventure, love, and cherished moments. Everyone, please join me in a toast... to the bride and groom.”
Chapter Six
“TO THE BRIDE AND GROOM,” Sandi said, lifting her glass, and fighting against tears. Wow, the guy certainly knew how to give a speech. She’d known he’d be funny, and that he’d tease the happy couple, but she was pleased that he hadn’t insulted Ginger, and the closing paragraph had surprised her no end.
“And now I think we’re going to cut the cake,” Jace said, “although I have to say it seems a crime. Make sure you’ve taken a photograph before it disappears!”
Dutifully, guests came forward to take a photo of the magnificent cake, and then the photographer took pictures of Sam and Ginger making the first incision while everyone finished off their desserts and waiters served coffee to all the guests.
Jace came back to his seat, and gave Sandi a smile. “Passable?”
“You were amazing.” She didn’t mind massaging his ego this once. “I bet you’re a force to be reckoned with in court.”
“I do my best.”
Full of good food and wine, she accepted a cup of coffee and leaned back, enjoying a feeling of contentment she hadn’t experienced in a long while.
She’d seen the emotion playing across Jace’s face while he’d given his speech. I’ve never been in love, he’d said. That intrigued her. He must be nearing thirty, and he was gorgeous and full of personality. Why had he never been in love?
The first time he’d asked her out had been at the midwinter food festival, the one where Sam had beaten Ginger to take the Bay of Islands Gold Food Award, only to lose his bakery in the cyclone that had hit the area that night. She’d met Jace in the hall where the awards had been held, and he’d immediately asked her out on a date. She’d turned him down, as politely as she could, and he’d left soon afterward. Mac, who’d overheard him ask her out, had just raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d like him,” he’d said.
“I’m not looking for anyone right now,” she’d replied, and he’d just shrugged. She hadn’t been able to help herself though, and had followed with, “What does he do?”
“He’s a lawyer,” he’d replied. “He sorted out the problem with the will for us.”
“What else do you know about him?” she’d queried.
He’d shrugged again. “Nice enough guy. Plays lock in the local rugby team.” But he’d been unable to tell her anything more than that. “He’s Sam’s mate, really,” he’d said, following which he’d changed the subject and obviously forgotten all about it.
After Jace had asked her out the second time, she’d broached the subject with Sam, more out of curiosity than anything else. “What do you know about him?” she’d asked.
Just like Mac, Sam had shrugged. “He’s a good laugh. Works hard.”
“Got a girlfriend?”
“Don’t think so, not at the moment.”
“Is he from around here?”
Sam had shaken his head. “No. Auckland, I think. Moved up here a couple of years ago. I’ve only known him since I’ve been back.”
“What about his family? Have you ever met any of them?”
“No. I’m not sure he has any.” Sam had no further details to share. In typical guy fashion, he and Jace talked about rugby and work and didn’t seem interested in knowing the ins and outs of each other’s lives.
So she knew nothing about his past, his family, his exes, or his life before he’d come to the bay. Not that it mattered, because she wasn’t interested in being anything more than a friend.
Mind you, she had to admit that he looked super gorgeous right now, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened. He felt more relaxed now he’d done his speech, she realized.
“Were you nervous?” she asked him. “About giving your speech.”
“A bit.” He smiled.
“I would’ve thought you’d have been used to it, speaking in court.”
“Eh, it’s a bit different, giving a best man’s speech. I wanted to strike the right tone, and not screw it up. I owed Sam that much.”
His warm hazel eyes had been studying her face, but now his gaze slipped to her lips, and she had the distinct feeling he was wondering what it would be like to kiss her. Her heart thumped a little faster, although she scolded it firmly. There will be no kissing, she told it, certain she heard it give a disappointed sigh.
She looked around. There were a lot of young women at the wedding, many of whom had cast Jace interested glances, but his eyes were fixed on her, and she hadn’t seen him look at any of the other girls once. She couldn’t deny that she felt flattered by his attention.
“You’re a family lawyer, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“So what sort of cases does that involve?”
“Divorces, child custody issues, domestic violence...”
“Emotive stuff.”
“Yeah. It can be.”
“Why did you choose that side of law? Why not wills and estates, that sort of thing?”
“I like helping families.” He didn’t elaborate, and looked down at his coffee cup, stirring it, even though he hadn’t added any sugar.
Sandi had seen the fleeting look on his face when he’d mentioned that his mother was religious and used to tell him stories about the Bible. He’d been worried that she was going to quiz him about it, and he’d looked relieved when she’d made a joke and changed the subject.
Something had happened in the past between him and his parents, or his family—she was convinced of it. Something that made him feel awkward and uncomfortable now. Was that why he’d moved away from Auckland?
It was none of her business, especially as she had her own secrets to keep, but she couldn’t deny being intrigued.
There was no chance to ask him anything more, though, because Sam and Ginger had finished cutting the cake, and it was time to let the waiters clear the restaurant and ready it for the evening.
Sandi visited the bathroom and freshened up, and when she came out, people were milling about on the lawn, talking and drinking, while others were taking tours of the vineyard. Collecting some of the guests, she gave a tour herself, feeling a swell of pride as she took them through her B&B.
While she’d repaired any damaged areas such as the hand basin that had been falling off the wall in one bathroom, replaced all the carpets because they’d been covered in stains, and painted the whole place eggshell white, she’d given a lot of thought to what she wanted the final decor to look like. She’d eventually decided to look back at Blue Penguin Bay’s history for inspiration.
Maori had lived here for possibly a thousand years, although it was difficult to say as, before the Europeans had come, they’d left little evidence of their occupation. Captain Cook had been the first European to land there in 1769. The nearby town of Russell was very proud of its status as the first capital of New Zealand, and indeed the whole Bay of Islands was renowned for being the birthplace of the country. Kerikeri housed the oldest stone building, and Waitangi was where the Treaty between Maori and the English had been signed.
With this in mind, Sandi had spent the past ten months building up a collection of prints that she’d hung throughout the B&B, including old black and white photos and copies of watercolors done by the early settlers. She’d spent a long time inside the Treaty House at Waitangi, looking at how they’d recreated scenes from the early nineteenth century, and had done her best to copy the decor, from the patterns on the curtains to the type of china used to serve tea. She’d learned from local Maori how to weav
e flax, and a couple of new friends she’d made had helped her to make circular flax mats for the reception floors, and Maori kete or bags, which she discovered was pronounced ‘kitty’ and was probably the origin of putting money in a kitty when you’re on a night out.
She was immensely proud of the rooms, and took pleasure in showing everyone around. After looking at the B&B, she accompanied her guests to the winery, then met up with the other groups in the tasting area, where Mac was holding court, giving anyone who was in the mood a taste of some of his own wines.
She didn’t see Jace, and told herself she was glad of the reprieve, although she couldn’t stop herself constantly searching the faces around her, looking for his hazel eyes and wide smile. Maybe he had finally given up on her, she thought—he could even be chatting up another girl right at that moment. What difference did it make to her? She couldn’t play dog in the manger and be grumpy if he tried to get off with someone else.
But she surprised herself by crossing her fingers and hoping he wasn’t so fickle. It was weak of her and unfair to him, but she’d enjoyed his attention that day, and she hoped to maybe snag a dance or two with him, if nothing else.
By the time they all got back to the restaurant, most of them very merry from sipping half a dozen different wines, it was close to eight p.m. It wouldn’t be completely dark for about another hour, but the sun was setting, and the Pacific had turned a deep orange. Shadows were lengthening, but the restaurant glowed like a jewel in the gathering dusk.
Sandi stood at the edge of the lawn and smiled at the view. After clearing the remains of the wedding breakfast, the staff had arranged a long line of tables against the back wall where they would eventually place the finger buffet for the evening. The round tables and chairs remained in the restaurant, in case it got cooler as the sun went down. The band had set up under a canopy out on the lawn, so the paved area that normally served as the garden for guests who wished to eat outside was now the dance floor. The fairy lights they’d wound up the poles and through the vines had been turned on, making the tiny disco balls that swung between the grapevines glitter and sparkle.
And there was Jace, sitting with the two wicked witches of the north, plying them with wine and chocolates, and talking to them as if they were the most interesting women in the universe. Sandi watched him for a moment, her lips curving up at the ease of his charm, as the women giggled and simpered, one leaning forward to brush his arm, the other touching her hair in a very girly gesture. Sandi felt a swell of pleasure. He hadn’t immediately latched onto the prettiest girl in the room and tried to chat her up. More than anything else, this one small act began to thaw her icy heart.
Looking up, he spotted her, smiled, and made his excuses to the two disappointed older women. Picking up his morning coat and slipping it on, he came over to Sandi and stood by her side, watching as the band tuned up.
“Getting desperate, are we?” she teased. “Going for the blue rinse brigade?”
“Hey, a guy has to get his kicks where he can.”
“You didn’t like them disapproving of us, did you?”
He gave her an appraising look. “No. I felt the need to persuade them what wonderful people we are.”
She smiled. “You’re a softie at heart, aren’t you?
“Maybe. Don’t tell anyone, though, eh?”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Something flickered in his eyes then, a thought or feeling as he looked at her, but it had gone before she could catch it.
He caught her gaze and held it, and for a moment she couldn’t look away.
“You look amazing tonight,” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“You just want to get into my knickers,” she told him, although the compliment warmed her through.
To her surprise, he didn’t smile, and he didn’t come back with a witty rejoinder. “Maybe I want more than that,” he said.
Sandi looked away, across the darkening fields of vines to the sea, which was now the color of polished copper. “Jace...”
“I know,” he said. “But a man can dream.”
The rhythm guitarist played a few bars of a song, and then the singer approached the mike. “Time for the first dance,” he declared, and everyone cheered. “Would the bride and groom like to come onto the dance floor, please?”
Sam led a blushing Ginger into the middle of the empty space while everyone else gathered around, and he turned her into his arms. The band began to play, and the singer serenaded them. Sandi’s eyes filled with tears. The song was from the film Swing Time, sung by Fred Astaire to Ginger Rogers. The girls’ father, Harry, had sung it to them as children, and although Ginger had only been three when he left, she swore she could remember him singing it.
Ginger linked her hands behind Sam’s neck, and they swayed slowly to the music, laughing at the cheers and whistles from the watching crowd.
Sandi pressed a hand over her heart. At that moment, it ached with an intensity that made her incredibly sad. She’d dreamed of being in Ginger’s shoes, of dancing with Brodie on her wedding night. But that dream had been cruelly snatched away from her.
She was thrilled for her sister. But in the way that there cannot be light without shadows, Ginger’s happiness expanded the empty space inside Sandi’s heart until it felt the size of a deep cavern.
She was so lonely. She could try to pretend to everyone else that she wasn’t, but she couldn’t deny it to herself. She was lonely, and unhappy, and all she was doing with her decision to stay single was ensuring she would stay that way for the rest of her life.
Chapter Seven
JACE LOOKED DOWN AT Sandi, not really surprised to see her cheeks glistening with tears. He was close to bawling his eyes out himself. Must be something in the water, he thought.
“The Way You Look Tonight,” he said, handing her the handkerchief from his top pocket. “Great choice of song.”
Sandi took it and wiped her face, fighting back emotion. “You know it?”
“Yeah. It’s a slow foxtrot,” he said before he could think better of it.
She stared at him, touching the handkerchief delicately under her eyes so she didn’t smudge her mascara. “Don’t tell me you’re into ballroom dancing.”
He hadn’t blushed since he was about eleven, but he came very close to it at that moment. “Well, I haven’t done it in years.” He hesitated, and then let out a slow sigh. “I used to go to classes with my mother, because my father wouldn’t go with her.”
Her blue eyes, so beautiful in spite of her tears, surveyed him thoughtfully. Then, in between verses, the singer said, “If anyone else would like to join the bride and groom, please feel free!”
“I haven’t done the foxtrot in years, either,” she said. “Want to try?”
“You’re asking me to dance?” he said, amused.
She shrugged and tucked the handkerchief back into his top pocket. “Maybe.” She looked up. “I haven’t... danced with anyone for a long time.”
They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment.
Slowly, his heart thudding, Jace raised his left hand, and Sandi slid her right one into it. He turned her into his arms and placed his right hand on her waist, and she rested her left on his shoulder. Then, as one, they started moving to the music.
He was hardly an expert, but they were perfectly matched, and turned slowly around the dance floor as the song progressed.
Jace hadn’t danced in years. When he was younger, learning the steps, it had been fun, and he could remember that private time with his mother, having her all to himself, and listening to her laugh as he stumbled or trod on her toes.
As a teen, at school when they’d had dance lessons before the school ball, he’d been full of swagger and nerves, determined not to make a fool of himself, concerned only with making sure that everyone could see how good he was, and what a pretty girl he had on his arm, because he always made sure he asked out one of the prettie
st girls in his year.
Dancing with Sandi was a completely different experience. For a start, he was aware of nobody else in the room except her. Her blue eyes remained fixed on his, filled with a heat she no longer seemed willing to deny. Her perfume surrounded him, ensnared him, warmed by her skin, a sultry scent that reminded him of the jasmine growing out by the wooden arch, along with a touch of vanilla and musk.
She was tallish in her heels, maybe five-nine, but she felt girlishly small in his arms, delicate, like a fragile bloom that only came alive when the sun went down. Although he’d been attracted to her from the start, it was only now he realized how she’d lacked a spark, which had presumably been extinguished back in the U.K., when she’d had all the problems with her ex. Now, though, the spark had returned to her eyes—or was it just the reflection of the fairy lights around the dance floor? He couldn’t be sure, but it was nice to think maybe he was the one who was making her sparkle.
Fred and Mac, and then other couples, gradually joined them on the dance floor, and Jace felt as if he was in a recreation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, surrounded by women in glittering dresses and men in suits, his racing heart suggesting there was a touch of magic in the air.
“What a beautiful night,” Sandi whispered as he twirled her around. “I’m so pleased for Ginger.”
“And Sam,” he said. “He’s had a tough year too.” Sam’s father had passed away in June, and he’d had to go through the difficult process of selling the ruined bakery. The owner of the shop next door had bought the land and was currently in the process of demolishing the building so he could expand his own shop. Sam had told Jace that he found it difficult to walk past the place. Luckily, his new patisserie next to the restaurant was now complete, and he was enjoying starting up his new business.