Kristin Hardy - Under His Spell

But for now it was theirs.

Lainie watched the bartender in the lounge pour a martini. Discreet waiters circulated with canapés. She took a blissful sniff as a tray of scallops wrapped in bacon passed by. Later, she promised herself. For now she needed to find the guests of honor and figure out someplace to drop her gift.

“Look who’s here, it’s Witch Girl,” she heard a loud voice say.

“Gabe!” She found herself swept up in a bear hug by her dark-haired cousin. “How have you been? It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

His teeth gleamed in a smile, and she thought, as usual, that he could have made a fortune in Hollywood. “Not that long. Nick’s wedding was, what, three months ago?”

“Two,” corrected the slender blonde who stepped up beside him. “Still too long, though. Thanks for coming.”

“Hadley, sweetie, no way would I have missed this.” Lainie hugged her in turn. “I am so happy for you guys.”

Hadley pushed back a sheaf of pale hair and gave her a skeptical look. “Don’t give me that. You’re happy because we’re keeping your parents off your back. You don’t fool me.”

Lainie grinned. “You love me and want me to be happy, don’t you? Besides, I really am thrilled for you. You’re perfect together.”

Gabe gathered Hadley against him, his dark hair mixing with her light. “That’s what I keep telling her. We’re made for each other. I was made to look good and she was made to wash my socks. Oof.” He released her, rubbing his side where she’d elbowed him.

Hadley smiled prettily. “We’ve already agreed, he’ll wash his own socks.”

Lainie laughed out loud. “I think you’ll both do fabulously.” And an arm looped around her from behind.

“What do you think, Lainie,” J.J. asked, “will you wash my socks? Ow! ”

She removed her elbow from his side and turned to see him bent over. “I’ll wash my hands of you, if that’ll do.”

“You’re roughing up my best man, there,” Gabe said mildly.

“Consider it for the good of mankind.”

“That’s not very friendly,” J.J. complained. “What did I ever do to mankind?”

“For the good of womankind, then,” she amended. “On general principles.”

“Underneath that mask of hostility lies complete devotion,” J.J. told Hadley.

She stuck her tongue in her cheek. “I can see that.”

“If I wanted to be devoted to you, Speed, I’d have to line up behind the entire female population of Scandinavia,” Lainie said. “I mean, granted, with your attention span, you’ll go through them quickly, but I don’t have that kind of time.” She winked at Gabe and Hadley. “So where do I put this?” She raised the gift box.

“I’ll show you,” Hadley said, leading the way across the room.

“So are we going to be able to get off somewhere this weekend and catch up?” Lainie asked as they threaded their way through the crush. “We are so due.”

“I think it sounds like a great idea.” Hadley set the box on the gift table and flicked her a conspiratorial look. “How about now?”

It didn’t take them long to find a table in the corner and order wine. “So what’s going on? How’s the wedding?”

Hadley sighed. “A headache, mostly.”

“Why? It sounded like you guys had it all worked out.”

“We did. Or at least we thought we did. Then my mother got involved.”

Lainie frowned. “But you guys are paying for the wedding yourselves, right? I thought the whole point was to have it the way you wanted.”

“You haven’t met my mother.”

“Come on, sweetie, you’re standing up to them now, remember? You’re not letting them run your life anymore.”

“And I’m smart enough to pick my battles,” Hadley said as their wine arrived.

Lainie raised her glass. “To Gabe and Hadley and happily ever after.”

“Assuming we get that far,” Hadley muttered, and clinked her glass.

“So what’s going on?”

“With my mother? Everything. I’ve managed to keep her out of it all so far, but now she and my sisters are having fits about the wedding party.”

“What are they having fits about? Your sisters are in it, aren’t they? They ought to be happy.” They ought, in Lainie’s opinion, to consider themselves lucky to have a sister like Hadley.

“There are two of them, and Gabe’s got three groomsmen.”

“So? Small weddings are the new black.”

“They’re worried about the exit processional. My mother insists that the numbers should be even.”

“But you guys are going low-key. Give one of them two guys to lead out, it’s no big deal.”

“It is to them,” Hadley said grimly. “No one throws better fits over nothing than they do.”

“But it’s your wedding.” Hadley’s complicated relationship with her family was a source of constant amazement to Lainie. No wonder the woman had moved three states away.

“Like I said, I pick my battles. I’ve kept her out of everything else. I figure this one’s not worth it.” She let out a breath. “So I have a favor to ask you. I really hope you won’t be offended at the late invite but, pretty please with sugar on top, will you be in our wedding?”

Lainie blinked. “Be in your wedding? But don’t you have a childhood friend or someone that you’d like to ask?”

“This is me, remember? The compulsive overachiever who didn’t have time for friends? Anyway, people have a tendency to get offended at being asked five weeks before the wedding.”

“People can be idiots,” Lainie pronounced, slinging an arm over Hadley’s shoulders.

Hadley grinned. “That’s part of why we get along so well. Anyway, I’m sorry about the short notice. Just please say you’ll do this for me. It’ll save me a world of grief.”

“Hadley, sweetie, whatever I can do to make your life easier, let me know.”

“You just did. My mother will be thrilled. It’ll be so symmetrical, my sisters with Gabe’s brothers. You’ll be maid of honor. That’ll put you with J.J.”

That’ll put you w ith J.J .

Lainie glanced across the bar to where he stood with his arms around two women who looked about eighteen. He whispered something to one of them, and she burst out giggling and pressed a kiss on him.

Lainie scowled. “Great. J.J. and me. Just what I’ve always wanted.”

J.J. leaned against the lodge wall, beer in hand, listening as Tom Phillips, a guy he and Gabe had known in junior high school, hit the punch line in a joke. So it wasn’t an après ski party in Gstaad. It was still good to be entertained, especially now, when he was sitting around at loose ends. It made him feel itchy in his own skin. He was accustomed to having a focus. He was accustomed to having a goal. He should be finishing up with speed camp in Chile right now, ready to head to Innsbruck in a couple of weeks to prep for the first World Cup race of the year at Sölden. Instead he was here, trying with admittedly little grace to be patient with physical therapy and the healing process of his shoulder while he waited for clearance to start training in earnest. He wasn’t used to being forced to sit back and let other people get a head start on him.

He wasn’t used to feeling like he was falling behind.

Of course he wasn’t, he reminded himself. Maybe he’d be starting the season at a slight disadvantage, but he’d catch up quickly. Dry-land training would help, and once he got on the slopes, it would all come back.

And he wasn’t going to think about what the future held, the all-too-near prospect of the day he’d miss speed camp not because he was rehabbing, but because he was retired.

J.J. made an impatient noise. Only a putz worried about things he couldn’t change, and the future wasn’t now. Right now he was just biding his time until he got going again. So if he was stuck waiting, he’d make the most of it. There were beautiful women in New England. He could hang out with friends, see his family.