Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(17)
When the groom tucked two blooms into his new children's curly hair, every eye in the house--no matter how macho--welled up with sentiment.
The wedding vows were short and sweet. As best man, Tony stood a few steps behind the couple, doing his best to act like Chris wasn't right beside him radiating his sexy tiger vibe through his tuxedo. Tony glued his attention to the couple, who swore to love, honor and cherish as if the words were invented just for them. Nate added a promise to respect and look out for Evina's clan.
"Me too," Evina said, surprising Tony by sending him a wink.
Unable to resist, Tony twitted Nate by pretending he couldn't find the rings in their safe pocket.
Nate shot a cool glare under lowered brows. Idiot, he mouthed at him.
Tony pretended he didn't notice Evina's beta's lips quirking.
The priest bound the pair's wrists together with a length of silk that was half tiger-print and half wolf. He covered their hands with his for the blessing. "May your mating prosper," he pronounced.
"Kiss her!" Evina's daughter Abby crowed.
"Kiss her good!" Her twin Rafi seconded.
Nate complied by bending the tigress backwards over one arm.
Wolves and tigers whooped and whistled in approval. The Bollywood-style musicians began to play, signaling the crowd to get off their folding chairs and dance to the banquet hall. The feast that waited was delicious, the champagne and humorous speeches equally plentiful.
Tony couldn't help but be happy through most of it. He was surrounded by his pack, and all of them were well. The tigers were on their best behavior--and similarly enjoying the party.
Joy could be shared when you were a group creature.
"Sweeten your mouths," the bride's mother instructed, helping the caterer wheel out the wedding cake.
Nate and Evina fed each other and their children a piece of it. Their auras were bright as dawn, their faces glowing with love and tenderness. Tony sat smiling a few more minutes. Then, suspecting no one would notice, he slipped from the hall for a breath of solitude.
~
Do not go after him, Chris ordered his twitching feet. You and Tony have nothing to say to each other.
Nothing Chris could follow up on anyway.
He stood with his back to the wooden wall of the banquet hall, slowly killing a bottle of ice-cold elf porter. He'd left the bridal table some time ago, unable to calmly sit with Tony next to him. He'd forgotten how sexy the young wolf was, with his smooth tanned skin and his full dark mouth made for slow wet kisses.
Chris shifted uncomfortably, his dress trousers going tight at the direction his thoughts drifted.
"Dance?" invited Evina's slightly tipsy female friend Freda.
She'd appeared through the crowd without him noticing. She was a paramedic: hot, fun, smart . . . and totally wasted on Chris. She'd shared her favors with a few of their station's tigers--to no one's harm, that he could see. Though she'd flirted with Chris before, he'd always evaded her.
Having sex with someone Evina cared about, just to shore up his damned secret, didn't seem right to him.
"Two left feet," he said, softening his refusal with a smile.
"Like I care!" She laughed and pushed his chest playfully.
Still smiling, he shook his head. "Liam looks like he needs a partner."
She pouted but danced off, the sinuous motions of her tight tigress body letting him know what he'd turned down.
Sighing, Chris finished off his beer. The table for the empties sat near the rear exit, the same exit Tony Lupone had slipped out of.
Don't, Chris ordered himself.
This time he didn't listen. He was a little drunk and maybe more than a little sad. Under those conditions, the lure of the hot young wolf was simply too powerful.
~
A stone half-wall separated the running path from the riverbank. Tony leaned on it with bent forearms, watching the dark current flow. The sun had set, probably after the first meat course.
Times like this he wished he smoked. That's what people did when they left a crowd. Went out for a cigarette, they'd say, not: Needed to escape the hot fireman I've got a hankering for.
Footsteps approached along the walkway behind him. Dress shoes. Worn by a large tall male. The swoosh of expensive fabric suggested a tuxedo.
"Tony," said the very fireman who'd driven him out here.
Tony turned and leaned back against the wall. He told himself he could be as cool as Nate if he wanted to. "You owe me a clean set of sheets."
Chris stopped, too close and too far at the same time. His handsome brow furrowed. "What?"
"You promised you'd wash the sheets yourself if we messed up Nate's bed. I guess your promises don't mean much."
God, Tony sounded childish. He refused to drop his gaze regardless. Looking at Chris fed something inside him he couldn't bring himself to deny.
"I'm sorry," Chris said. "About everything."
He wasn't looking away either. Perversely, Tony longed for him to move closer.
"You knew it was me calling you from that blocked number."
"Yes."
"I made myself only call you once."
"I appreciate that." Chris's cheek muscles worked, his jaw so square he was like a fricking superhero on a kid's cereal box. His shoes made a scuffing noise on the path as his weight shifted. "You know my situation."