Justice Mine: a Base Branch Novel (21 page)

“
A
re you all right
?” Mags asked. “You look a little pale, and coming from me, that’s saying something.”

Sloan closed the partition she’d peeked through, clasped her hands at the trim fitting ivory lace and silver beads covering her waist, and sucked a deep breath through her nose. She let it loose in an open-mouthed gush. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“Not helping.” Sloan’s amber eyes flashed on Mags then rolled heavenward.

Magdalena grabbed a book from the well-ordered shelf and fanned Sloan. “Are you having second thoughts about—”

“No. Not at all. It’s just, when Baine said, ‘Army & Navy Club with a few of our closest friends,’ I was thinking more guns and less people. There are at least thirty people in the room already.”

“And you could kill every one of them with your bare hands. I don’t really understand the problem.”

“It was supposed to be me and Baine, Easton and Ruth, Ryan and Commander Tucker, Mrs. Pierce, you and Law at the registry office. But your dad, Ruth, and Law’s mom found out the place was being renovated and took over.

“Congratulations, by the way.” Sloan smiled at the last and a bit of the color returned to her cheeks.

“Congratulations?”

“Please, I don’t need to be a professional observer to see you’re so giddy you’re about to float away. And you’ve been toying with that sweet ring all morning.”

Magdalena gasped and looked down at her non-fanning hand. The emerald twirled around her pointer finger in a slow loopty-loop. Sloan bit her lower lip in a wicked smile. “It’s a good thing I came to get you. Otherwise you two would still be trying to bang the bed through the wall.”

Their cackles were cut off by the director’s appearance. “Ladies, we’re ready for you. Ms. Wells first. Wait a twelve count, Ms. Harris, then you follow.”

Mags shoved the ring behind the sweetheart neckline of the soft pink knee length dress they’d chosen the week before and nestled it between her boobs. She reshelved the book and turned to go as instructed, but Sloan grabbed her arm and whispered, “I’m not a ballerina. What is he talking about?”

“Just count to twelve slowly. You’re about to be a part of my family. The only thing you have to worry about is not getting fat around my father’s, and apparently Law’s, cooking.” Magdalena kissed Sloan’s cheek, picked the orange, pink, and cream bridal bouquet of peonies, ranunculus, and tulips from the table, and handed them to the lady of the day. “I’m so happy for you and Baine.”

The doors opened and Mags plucked up her smaller clutch of the same and walked on cream sling-backs down the isle. Strangers and familiar faces lined each side on white cloth covered chairs with wide bands of whisper pink. But not even her father and Ruth could hold her gaze from searching out the men at the front of the room.

Her smile grew genuine when she spotted Baine’s wide set shoulders, slightly wavy dark hair, and rare grin, which had become more frequent over the last few weeks. The man didn’t grin. He laughed on occasion, but the beam radiating from his bearded face was crafted for this very special occasion.

Mags knew the moment Sloan walked into the room because her brother’s gaze left her and widened at a spot behind her head. Just as well, because her gaze moved from his dark to Law’s bright. They welded together as she stepped to her mark at the front of the room. He winked. By force of will she silenced a moan and winked back instead. Then they turned toward the union of a dear old friend and a lovely new one.

In no time at all, Baine and Sloan were hitched and in a lip lock ferocious enough to make Law blush. They exited into a small banquet hall assembled with round tables and all the finery of a meal, a modest wooden dance floor, and jazz quartet. The happy couple was overtaken by guests in a blink with congratulations and well-wishes.

Law grabbed Magdalena’s arm and pulled her close. “You look good enough to eat.” The breath from his words caressed her ear.

“You’ve already done that today,” she said, banding her arms around his torso and tilting her head up for a kiss.

He nipped her lip. “Haven’t had my fill.”

“Lucky me.” Her entire body quivered.

“Now, son. You have some introductions to make.” Mags turned at Poppy Pierce’s voice and pulled one arm from Law to scoop his mom into a group hug. Magdalena’s head could have nestled nicely in her full rack. Law obviously got his height from every branch of his family tree. But Mags arched her chin and hugged the woman tightly, thankful for the love she readily dispensed.

“You two have seen each other about a hundred times in the last two weeks, Mum, and if I’m not mistaken, you met her before I did.” Law shook his head and hugged his mother close.

“Yes,” she agreed. “But, you haven't introduced me to your fiancée.” The woman’s elegant face curled into a smile only a mother could give, mixed with familial pride and
I told you so
.

Magdalena bit her lips together and cut her gaze at Law who bobbed his head, his mouth narrow as her own.

“Well,” a deep voice said from behind Law’s mother. “You shouldn’t look so shocked, son.”

“Pop.” Law smiled and extended a hand to his older mirror image.

Mags found her hand tightening on Law’s suit coat because the man she loved was going to age like a fine wine. A fit, smooth, and sexy cabernet.

“You only got part of your skill set from me. The other, you got from my Poppy.” Law’s father extended his hand to his wife with a lopsided grin. “Shall we give these two a minute to process the fact that they’re not as sly as they’d like to imagine?”

“Only if you promise me four dances this evening,” she countered.

“Four? Greedy woman,” Pop shot back.

Poppy kissed their cheeks and sashayed away with Pop in a stunning display of love and middle-aged hotness.

“Law.” Her lover’s name came in stereo from two gorgeous blondes half way across the room. They’d never been out in public together and suddenly Mags found her back up over two women calling to her man with open adoration and familiarity. Law scooted from her hold and held his arms wide.

The abandonment stung, but Mags didn’t reveal it. Law loved her and she loved him. Sure they had some social awkwardness to work through. What new couple didn’t? She consoled herself as two leggy women wrapped their arms around Law in turn then stood back and folded their arms in disgust.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” the shorter of the two, which still made her a head taller than Mags, said.

“Fuck,” the second whispered. “We had to learn about it from Laird.”

About the time Mags worked everything out in her mind, Law draped an arm over her shoulders. “Does no one in this family know how to keep their mouth shut?”

“You already know the answer to that,” a slightly older and taller version of Law said from behind the two women.

“Magdalena, I’d like you to meet my sister, Lilliana.” The pixie-faced shorter blonde gave a strummed finger wave then leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “Where are Tony and the little guy?” he asked, referring to her husband and baby.

“Helping Luca park the car, and taking their time about it. None of them are too fond of weddings,” she answered with a shrug. “Why do you think we’re late?”

“Because when we’re together we’re always late,” Law answered.

“True.” His other sister stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m Lovella.”

“And you have a foul mouth,” Mags said. Law’s siblings’ eyes widened for a second until she added, “I think we’re going to be fast fucking friends.”

With a boisterous laugh and crushing grip, Laird mimicked his sister and introduced himself. “I think we’ll all get along just fine.”

“I don’t know,” Khani said, stepping into the mix. “She curses more than Larkin.”

Laird laughed. “More entertainment for the rest of us.”

“Yeah, someone else for Poppy to chase around with the fly swatter,” Lovella agreed.

“What the fuss over? I hate missing the good stuff.” Magdalena turned to the shockingly, intimately familiar voice. Though she’d never heard it take that tone, she’d heard it every day for the past two weeks and planned to hear it every one for the rest of her life. But not from anyone other than Lawrence Pierce. The world ground to a halt in an instant as she held tight to the man she loved and stared into the face, behind Laird’s shoulder, of the man she loved. “Bloody hell, Law. You didn’t tell her? You might want to firm your grip. Your girl’s listing to the side.”

An orchestra of indignant voices piped all around her, but Magdalena zeroed in on Law. “You have a twin and didn’t think to tell me?”

He smoothed a hand over her cheek and kissed her firm on the mouth. “We’ve been a little busy and I honestly forgot myself. I mean, I’ve grown accustomed to them over the years, even though these days I never see them.”

“And whose fault is that?” Law number two shot back.

“Them?” Mags asked.

Law pursed his lips then blew out an exacerbated breath. “Triplets. I’m the smart and brave one. He’s Luca, wildly talented with a microphone and a guitar. Larkin is the unpredictable one.”

“And I’m the handsome son. Thank goodness my mom had me before the ugly ducklings came along,” Laird added.

“And you’re all so humble,” Lovella huffed.

The band’s upbeat tenny faded away. “Oops, that’s our cue.” Lilliana waved a
come the hell on
hand at Luca and turned in time to meet a handsome man with his arms open, and receive a smacking kiss on the mouth. “Well, hello to you. Where’s Milo?”

The bloke planted a palm to his forehead. “Oh, I knew I was forgetting something.” He turned back toward the door and Lilliana slapped his ass. “Ow, babe. Poppy has him, of course. Can’t get in a ten mile radius without that woman thieving him.”

Law tapped Khani on the shoulder and jerked his head in a
come closer
nod. “Speaking of where’s who…where’s Street?”

“Why the hell should I know?” Her whisper had teeth. Law didn’t say a word, just waited. “Screw you. He’s at the bar getting legless with Grizz.”

“He likes to have a good time,” Law said. “He’s got some maturing to do.”

“I don’t even care enough to be talking about him.” Khani’s fire-engine red lips, which matched her stunning one-shoulder dress, thinned to a line.

“Oh, are we talking about a chap?” Lilliana leaned into their clutch.

“What chap?” Lovella crowded over Lilliana’s shoulder.

“We’re not talking about any bloody man, you nosey Pierces,” Khani near shrieked.

“I’m a Landing now,” Lilliana offered.

Khani growled. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“But you don’t drink,” Law reminded.

“Fuck it all, I’m going to get some air.” Khani poked her tongue at all of them.

Magdalena’s cheeks cramped she smiled so big. The music changed and the two hurried over to the band and grabbed microphones. Her attention shifted to the small dance floor and through a part in the crowd saw Baine pull Sloan away from a cluster of old people and onto the dance floor.

Sloan’s gown, while modest in the front, plunged at the back in a V of scalloped lace and stunned the eye against her smooth mocha skin. Baine’s right hand cupped the bare skin just below her shoulder blade and reeled her close. He brought her left hand to his lips. From the distance, Mags saw the light catch tiny inset diamonds on the bands of platinum embracing the much larger rough cut diamond in an off kilter X.

The violinist pulled a few magical cords from the instrument with artistic sways of her lean body while the pianist’s fingers ticked off a low melody. When the first word left Luca Pierce’s mouth, the air stilled for all except the oblivious couple on the dance floor, breathless from their own building passion. Soulful notes danced through the static room whirling around the dumbstruck audience.

John Legend’s
All of Me
. Magdalena recognized it from the first notes, but her throat constricted on any words she tried to form. Then Lilliana’s silky-sweet resonance joined in the chorus. “'Cause all of me loves all of you. All your perfect imperfections. Give your all to me. I’ll give my all to you. You’re my end and my beginning. Even when I lose I’m winning. ‘Cause I give you all of me, and you give me all of you. Oh…”

As Baine led Sloan in an easy foxtrot and the lyrics and melody coalesced, Mags and all the other women in the room lost it. Hankies flew from pockets left and right and make-up ran in tiny rivulets with happy tears. Law’s arm cinched around her shoulders and she leaned against his firm body, avoiding rubbing her cosmetics on his tan tux.

“It’ll wash,” he whispered.

He held her through the song and into the next, swaying them to the music. At the beginning of the traditional father-daughter dance, a dapper man in a striking grey suit tapped Baine to cut-in. Magdalena’s brother kissed his bride and shook the man’s hand. The hot silver fox bowed his head to Baine then swung Sloan into a waltz, eating up the floor as they went. The dance seemed incongruous for the icy expression on the bloke’s face, but Sloan’s shoulders were relaxed and she appeared unfazed by it.

“Who’s that?” Mags wandered.

“Sloan’s old boss, Commander Tucker,” Law said.

Whew. She wouldn’t use the word old to describe the man. Former boss and dashing rogue would be more accurate.

Baine maneuvered through a clump of people, heading for her and Law, when Easton Wells railroaded him in an embrace. Magdalena’s heart squeezed in her chest. Given the sudden moisture in Baine’s dark eyes, he was as surprised as she at her father’s show of affection. Her dad was a man of many words and caring actions, but he reserved the touchy feely stuff, as was a butler’s way she supposed. Sure he hugged her, but never anyone else.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Easton hug anybody,” Law mused.

“I know.”

The two men straightened themselves and parted ways. Her dad returned to Ruth’s side and Baine sidled up to them, watching Sloan. “Wasn’t really prepared for that.”

“You should’ve known,” Mags said. “He gets sentimental at weddings and funerals. He’d be uncontainable at a baptism.” Both men stared down at her as if she’d grown a baby bump in the span of a second. “I’m just saying. There are no baby bumps here. Or there.” She pointed to Sloan. “I don’t think. Then again she was nauseous this morning.”