On the other hand, he wouldn’t likely complain too much if they decided to hold him without food again.
Dani had drifted toward a table of linens. Cascades of napkins in every color of the rainbow competed for attention with place settings. She picked up a scarlet napkin with embroidered white doves, her mouth forming a soft ‘o’ of surprise that softened her features and reminded him that she was, in fact, a very beautiful woman. He found himself watching her as she touched wineglasses, picking up and setting down a napkin folded into a swan. Funny how he’d never pegged her as someone who would care about such things. Maybe he should have known. Maybe all women loved weddings on some level, and daydreamed about being princesses.
Yeah, and you’re just some sexist male putting the opposite sex into a little box because you’re more comfortable thinking of them that way. What you don’t seem to want to realize, you doofus, is that Dani might be the one who wants to be a princess on her wedding day, and you’re not the prince for her. And in fact, dick-head, you’re ruining what’s supposed to be something very special. She doesn’t want to marry you. She only said that to save your life.
Even as he thought it she raised her head, and something shuttered within her eyes. She dropped the napkin and turned away, but not before he glimpsed the sadness she fought so hard to conceal.
He started toward her, only to be blocked by a waiter carrying a tray of tall champagne flutes. Champagne. Just shop for wedding supplies. He waved him away and tried to walk around him, only the waiter walked with him, getting underfoot.
“Ahem.”
Luke knew that sound. His head shot up. What they said was true. Wait staff are always invisible. How the hell he’d missed it he’d never know. Distraction probably. But the waiter was Frank Wellington. He was also a cop. One of Randy’s men, and someone Luke knew quite well.
I’m losing my touch.
“A drink, sir. To celebrate the occasion,” Frank said, and handed a glass to Luke. He then moved on to ask the others if they cared for anything. Benny just frowned and ignored him, Dani took one out of politeness. He avoided the goon squad, Luke noticed, earning him more than one glare. Not that the guys should be drinking while on duty. Apparently, it’s always nice to be asked.
The caterer apparently won the who’s-first toss and they spent an hour debating the merits of finger food and chicken verses salmon. Chicken, it appeared, was rather pedestrian, whereas the salmon was much more...
Luke had suggested the word ‘overpriced’ but was shut down by several sour stares. It seemed that neither Dani nor her uncle appreciated his bitter sense of humor, the only opinion they shared. Tiny courses appeared and disappeared. What Luke hadn’t expected was that meeting with the caterer meant eating several samples, not full dinners.
Miniature versions of chicken marsala and salmon fettucine appeared and disappeared. Luke started to eat heartily, remembering all too well his recent lack of meals, and was scolded soundly by Dani and Benny both. You were supposed to try a bite, a forkful, followed by long discussion regarding flavors and pricing. Luke watched with great regret as the chicken marsala was removed. He’d barely gotten a taste.
Through the ordeal, Frank was there, refilling Luke’s water, making sure it was never less than half full. He was encouraged constantly to drink, to cleanse his palate. Tiny saucers of potatoes appeared. Potatoes au gratin. Mashed potatoes. Potato pancakes. It was like being at a child’s tea party. Luke got better at scooping larger bites before the plate was taken away, and almost snarled when they grabbed at the potatoes au gratin when the ever-present hand reached out to take them. He was allowed to finish that one.
Dani rolled her eyes in exasperation. Benny just laughed.
Frank came at him with more water. His guarded expression was one of urgency, and though it seemed ridiculous that he should be clandestinely contacted, putting himself and Frank at risk for the sake of proper hydration, he dutifully downed each proffered cup, wondering if there was a message in the bottom of the glass he just wasn’t seeing. Or had they etched it on the ice cubes?
The net effect was less rescue and more discomfort. Soon, Luke’s bladder began to insist that he take a moment. Unwilling to miss anything, he attempted to refuse the next round of water, but Frank was persistent.
The next course brought out was various soups. Looking at the teacups filled with a dozen different broths, Luke experienced a feeling he hadn’t had since he was a child. Quite simply, one more sip and he would not be held responsible for his actions.
“You two are supposed to be madly in love,” Benny said, rising and coming to stand behind him. His arms encircled them both. Whether it was a warning of some kind to them, or for the benefit of the staff, Luke had no idea. Probably both. Especially given how hard Benny squeezed his shoulder. But then he’d somehow managed to land his hand right on one of the worst bruises he’d gained from David’s masterful touch the other day.
Of course, Benny very likely knew that.
“Most brides and grooms are somewhat pleased to be making wedding plans; we wouldn’t want anything to ruin the big day, would we?” The words were quiet and deadly, and spoken right in Luke’s ear.
“No,” Luke said. His smile was one part false for the sake of appearance and two parts grimace for the growing need in his bladder.
“No,” Dani said around a huge long-suffering sigh. It was as though all the derision for all males and their inability to grow up was placed in that sound. “No, we can’t have that, can we, love?” she asked Luke, and reached out to take his hand.
She had a very strong grip, Luke noted, and his smile began to fade slightly as she increased it. She must have learned the fine art of making every casual touch count. The sweet gesture soon became a vise from which he could not escape. He tried to squeeze back, but she already had his hand bent just enough that he couldn’t get the leverage to reciprocate.
He leaned over to kiss her neck, and bit her earlobe so hard she nearly yelped in shock and released her hand. They smiled at each other and faced the cake maker.
“Aw, what a loving couple!” he gushed. “I can tell, this one, this is special. You always know the ones that will work out. I always know, I can tell! You two will be a happy couple!”
“Hear that, dear?” Luke said. “We’re going to make it.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and grabbed her wrist and twisted it. She grunted behind a fixed smile and brought her foot down on his arch.
“AH!” He couldn’t hide that one, it really hurt.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, I must’ve stepped on your foot. It’s a good thing you’re so much bigger than me,” she cooed like a little air-head, “or I might squash you like a bug!”