A Bad Boy is Good to Find (36 page)
Read A Bad Boy is Good to Find Online
Authors: Jennifer Lewis
‘It doesn't happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.’”
Lizzie’s breathing got a little erratic in the middle there, so he chafed her hand with his thumb, feeling kind of panicky and raw and very very real.
He wanted to kiss her right now, to lose himself in her softness, but Raoul had been strict about the importance of sticking to his planned order of events so he straightened his shoulders and drew in a long, slow breath.
The next reading was by Danny, who recited from memory, hands by his side. During the rehearsal, Con had recognized the familiar prayer from their mother’s prayer book, but hearing it now, at his own real wedding, he suddenly felt as if his mother was right there, kissing him on the cheek again and giving him her blessing. He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the powerful sensation and by the almost painful joy of hearing his little brother’s voice after so many years not knowing if he was dead or alive. When he opened them, Danny was smiling at him and Lizzie.
“I missed you, bro,” he said. “And I’m not letting you and your lovely wife out of my sight ever again.”
“Deal,” Con croaked. Lizzie squeezed his hand.
Gia sang a song in her sweet clear voice, and Dino unveiled a limerick he’d composed for the occasion. The jazz band played a rousing interlude, then a hush fell. Con’s heart beat faster. It was time for the vows.
Raoul had written them. Very simple and basic. When the wedding was a charade they’d planned to just respond “I do” to the usual questions. No sense telling a whole bunch of heartbreaking lies on camera. Now he and Lizzie really meant it, they wanted to say the words aloud. And he was up first.
He took a deep breath. Lizzie’s eyes shone. His palms were sweating.
“I, Conroy Beale, take you, Lizzie Hathaway, to be my wife.” A fist of feeling knocked his breath away. Lizzie blinked, and he saw tears hovering behind her smile. She bit her pink lip with those pretty pearl teeth.
“I promise to stand by your side, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer…” He paused, and they both smiled.
Been there, done that
. “In sickness and in health. To be open and honest with you—” He looked her right in the eye, wanting her to know he meant it. “And to love and cherish you as long as we both shall live.”
He heaved a sigh of relief that he’d managed to remember it all. Again, he fought a fierce urge to seize Lizzie in his arms. To pick her right up and run away with her.
As Lizzie repeated the same vows, he grew lighter and lighter. He clung to her hands, as if he might lift up like a hot-air balloon if he wasn’t anchored to her. Her voice was clear and decisive, not a trace of nerves, just sheer conviction that melted the ground under his feet and made his heart swell.
“May I have the rings, please,” said Raoul.
Danny stepped forward and handed them to him, and Raoul placed Lizzie’s ring in Con’s hand. He knew there were some fancy words he was supposed to say, but they’d gone right out of his head.
“I love you, Lizzie.” He’d never meant anything more in his life and it made the words come out kind of choked, but he didn’t care.
He slid the delicate platinum band onto her finger. It didn’t go on right away, and he had to wiggle it and jiggle it to get it on. Appropriate considering their rocky path to the altar.
They smiled shyly to each other, then Lizzie, tears glittering in her eyes, said, “I love you too, Conroy Beale,” and pushed his ring on. He’d picked it himself from the selection Maisie brought. It was big and fat and gold and shouted, “I’m married.” The sight of it on his finger made him feel solid and steady on his feet again. Rooted in something permanent.
“You may now kiss the bride,” pronounced Raoul.
Thank God
.
Con stepped forward and took Lizzie in his arms. His eyes shut as he closed his lips over hers. She melted around him, enclosing him in loving softness that made him want to cry with joy. Their tongues tangled and her fingers roamed into his hair as he held her tight, his palms pressing into the hard little pearls of her gown, squeezing her lush body as livid emotion burned through him.
Throat clearing by Raoul finally tugged him back to the present. They parted, painful, air rushing in where warm lips should be. Lizzie’s whole face glowed, her lips red and her cheeks pink.
“Lizzie and Conroy,” intoned Raoul, “we have heard your promise to share your lives in marriage. We recognize and respect the vows you have made here today before us, and it is my honor and joy to declare you married and partners in life...for life.”
“‘Partners in life’? Raoul, this isn’t a gay wedding, you know. Aren’t you supposed to say ‘man and wife’?” asked Maisie. They sat around the arbor-shaded dining table. The cameras had taken all the shots they needed and been turned off.
“I like the gender neutral approach.” Lizzie lifted a steaming crawdad from the platter in the center of the table. She’d gotten over her fear of the tasty critters. “Otherwise, why shouldn’t it be ‘woman and husband?’”
“Exactly.” Raoul delicately sucked the “butter.” “One has to change with the times. Some would say marriage has had its day, but I happen to think two people wanting to spend the rest of their lives together is about the most beautiful thing in the world.” He sighed as he wiped his fingers on a napkin.
“I agree.” Con raised his glass. “To forever.” Clinking ensued. “Now we’ve just got to get your parents back into the family circle. They’ll like this place.” Con glanced up at the mansion with a look of satisfaction. “And they’ll like me too once they get to know me. I’ll talk ’em around.”
“I bet you will. Charmer.” A smile crept across her mouth. “It’ll be a blast proving they were totally wrong about you.”
“Well,” Con winked. “Not totally wrong…” He leaned over and her cheek sizzled under another hot kiss. “So where shall we put your art studio? How about the old carriage house? Then you could do either canvases or cars, depending on what takes your fancy.”
Lizzie blinked. “I really could paint, couldn’t I?”
“Could? Are you nuts? You’re going to paint. You’ll be a big success too. How else do you plan to support me? We old-school aristos aren’t cheap to keep, you know.”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth fighting a smile.
Maisie stabbed her fork in the air. “You could always sell one of the cars.”
“Well,” Con leaned back. “What I’d like to do is have fun fixing them up then rent them out for weddings and films and that kind of thing. If Lizzie’s cool with that.”
“I’m cool.” She smiled. “Con was up half the night fixing the Silver Ghost so we could drive away in it for the final shot.” When he’d finally got the engine to turn over and run, he looked as if he’d just had an orgasm. Well, almost. She rubbed the back of his hand. “I want you to do what makes you happy.”
“You make me happy.” His dark-eyed gaze tightened her chest.
“You make me happy too.”
“Uh, oh, I’m getting choked up again.” Raoul reached for a napkin.
“Oh, Raoul. You’re so sentimental.” Maisie snapped open a crawdad. “Marriage is a lot of hard work. At least from what I hear. I seem to have escaped that particular burden of responsibility for the time being. Lizzie obviously has more discerning taste in husbands than I do.”
“You had a lucky escape, Maisie,” said Danny with a chuckle. “You’ve got way too much Tabasco for a man like Dwight.”
Raoul peered at Maisie over his champagne flute. “Hmm. Dwight and Danny have the same initial. You wouldn’t even have to get the silver goblets re-etched.”
Maisie turned the color of a boiled crawdad. “I’m not marrying anyone.”
“Me either,” said Danny. “I’m too young and innocent.” He took a bite of french fry and gave Maisie a look that was anything but innocent.
Lizzie glanced sideways at Con. “You really should stop your brother toying with my cousin’s affections.”
“Yeah, I really should, shouldn’t I.” Con grinned. “But it’s too much fun to watch.”
Maisie squirmed, as if something untoward was going on under the table. “Stop that!” she hissed to Danny. She sat up in her chair and glared at Con. “Don’t get too cocky. Lizzie told me these Fleur-de-lis plates coordinate with a part of your anatomy?”
Lizzie bit her lip to stop a grin sneaking across her mouth. “They, um, celebrate Con’s French ancestry.”
“We have French ancestry?” Danny said through a mouthful.
“Who knows? Lizzie’s being polite about the flaming dagger tattooed on my ass.” He winked at her. “Want to see if it matches the plates?” He made a move like he was ready to unbutton his pants.
“I think we’ve all seen it, darling.” Raoul dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “That man of yours has no shame. He was ready to run after you in his birthday suit until we stopped him.”
“Clothes can get in the way.” The cocky assurance in his expression was undercut by a swell of emotion that echoed in Lizzie’s heart. She reached for his hand under the table cloth and gave it a squeeze.
“These two can’t wait until we all get lost,” Raoul muttered, picking up his glass.
“Only one more shot to do.” Maisie dusted bread crumbs off her hands. “The happy couple driving away in the Rolls.”
“Where are you going on the honeymoon?” asked Rog, after gulping back half a glass of wine.
“Right here. The most beautiful place on earth.” Con smiled. “But certain people need a closing shot for their big TV show so we’re going to take a drive to New Orleans before we settle in. Lizzie has some important business to take care of.”
“Really, what?” Maisie could never hide her curiosity.
“Oh, we’re just getting some items emblazoned with Con’s family crest. You know, letterhead, towels…”
My butt
. Lizzie chuckled at how scandalized Maisie would be if she knew her formerly prim cousin was getting a tattoo. It was the perfect way to celebrate her new badass self. A sexy secret between her and Con.
“Con, why did you tie all those shoes to the car bumper?” asked Raoul. “The Manolos will get mauled. It’s a travesty.”
“It’s an ancient wedding tradition,” said Maisie. “There are a variety of interpretations of its origins, dating back to medieval—”
“I just put ’em there in case Lizzie needs something to throw at me.” Con slid his arm around Lizzie’s shoulders. “We have a tradition of our own to keep up.”
Lizzie gasped. “Con! You’re terrible.”
“I know.” He winked. “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
THE END
Acknowledgements
For Jordan and Mia
Many thanks to the generous people who read this book at some point during its creation, including Kathy Altman, Melissa Beck, Phyllis Campbell, Anne-Marie Carroll, Elle Kennedy, Margaret Lukoff, Anne MacFarlane, Lynn Messina and Andrea Somberg.
About The Author
JENNIFER LEWIS is the bestselling author of more than twenty books. She has lived on both sides of the Atlantic and worked in media and the arts before venturing into the world of her imagination. She lives in sunny South Florida with her family.
Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Lewis
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1-939941-00-8
Published 2013 by Mangrove, 2637 E Atlantic Blvd #24692 Pompano Beach, FL 33062, USA
“The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams originally published 1922 by Charles H. Doran Co.
Without limiting the rights under copyright above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without prior written permission of the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
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