Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(78)

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Clothes ironed, suits on and shoes shining, Falk and the Raco family walked to the church together. It was a white wooden structure on the leafy edge of town, surrounded by towering gum trees. The branches swayed as they threw dappled light down on the crowd that was already gathering outside in a mist of perfume and hugs and good wishes.

Falk immediately looked around for Gemma. He couldn’t see her yet, but he did spot Rohan. He was with Zoe, who was dressed in a floral playsuit and giggling as her dad chased her around the far end of the parking lot. Raco looked pointedly over at Charlie, the wordless message crystal clear. Charlie sighed and nodded.

“Yep. I’ll sort it,” he said.

Falk watched as he trudged off across the gravel. As Rohan saw Charlie approach, he stopped running after his daughter and straightened his back, his shoulders suddenly tense. The two stopped a short distance away from each other. Falk couldn’t hear the muttered exchange, but after a loaded pause, they both took half a step forward and awkwardly shook hands. Shane, whose formal wear made him look very much like a man awaiting a court appearance, stood nearby, taking it in. Falk saw his large chest rise and fall in a sigh, before he made his way across the parking lot to join them. He was welcomed with open relief by both men.

“Come on, Father Connor’s calling us in,” Falk heard Rita say, and looked down as she took his arm and gave his elbow a squeeze. “And, hey, welcome officially to the extended family. I honestly can’t think of anyone we’d rather have than you.”

Falk stopped mid-stride at the steps of the church and put his arms around this gorgeous, generous woman and bundled her into a firm hug. Releasing her, they laughed and followed the priest inside. Naomi was already waiting at the top of the aisle in a clingy cream dress, her crown of blond hair shining as she radiated an energy that threatened to overshadow even Henry himself. She gave Falk a wink as he came to stand next to her.

“God, some men just scrub up beautifully,” she said, running an approving eye over his suit.

“Thanks.” He smiled. “Although I think you’ve outdone us all.”

Naomi smoothed a hand down the pale fabric and raised an eyebrow. “Not too bridal?”

“Only in a good way,” he said truthfully.

“I knew I liked you, Aaron.” She laughed, but as the priest approached, Falk saw her eyes flick toward the church door. He wondered who exactly she was looking for, as she turned away again, disappointed. Perhaps Zara’s suspicions had some basis after all.

Falk put the thought aside as they stood together in a patch of sunlight, listening to Father Connor’s last-minute instructions and watching the Racos’ friends and family wander in to take their seats. Falk tried to focus on what the priest was saying but instead found his own gaze drifting away, moving over the familiar and unfamiliar faces filing into the church until—at last, there she was. Gemma’s hair was down around her shoulders, and she was wearing a yellow dress that suited her in a way Falk couldn’t quite articulate. He watched her, hoping she’d look up and see him.

“—if that sounds all right to you, Aaron?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Falk heard his name and abruptly tuned back in to the conversation. “No worries.” He nodded firmly to hide the fact he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to and, next to him, he sensed Naomi stifle a laugh.

Gemma was moving up the aisle toward a spare seat, and when Falk glanced over this time, he felt a little leap as he realized she was looking back at him. She held his eye and smiled encouragingly, opening her palm in a little personal wave. And right then, as the tiny subtle connection zipped between them, Falk could almost imagine a different day. A day a bit like this, with the suit and the sunlight and a dress at the other end of that aisle. The air thick with love and celebration. He could see it—feel it, maybe?—and for a second it all seemed so vivid and real that he was a little startled when Rita suddenly handed him a struggling Henry. Falk mentally lurched back into the room, the reality faintly colored now by a strange, disoriented longing. He blinked, and breathed slowly in and out.

“All right.” Father Connor checked his watch, then gave Falk and Naomi each a final reassuring smile. “Showtime.”

There was a short service before the christening itself, and Falk sat between Raco and Naomi in the warm space, letting the words wash over him.

When his moment arrived, Falk looked down at Henry and thought about the trust the Racos were placing in him. He’d always suspected on some level he was doing this purely for them—a gesture of their mutual friendship, offered and returned. But as he spoke his words, here and now, he discovered to his mild surprise that it felt like something more. A tangible bond being woven between Falk and his godson.

Okay, Henry, he thought. Starting now. But for real, this time.

Naomi played her own part with her usual competence and grace and then, faster than Falk had expected, it was all over. He craned his neck, trying to spot Gemma as the guests trooped back out into the sunshine but had to give up as he was swiftly led aside for family photos. Lots of them, it seemed, in all possible combinations until various members were released one by one. Finally, it was just Henry, his parents, and his brand-new godparents left alone to stroll home to the vineyard in peace.

“Well. That was absolutely lovely,” Naomi said. She had insisted on pushing Henry’s stroller while Rita and Raco walked along arm in arm. “Keep me in mind for the next one, won’t you?”