Page 463 of A Matter of Time

I nodded and squeezed her hand.

“Think about what your ring means to you. Going to a wedding, any wedding, should always make you think of your own and reaffirm your love.”

Even if no one in the place knew I was married?

“It only matters what you know,” she told me, like she was reading my mind.

“Hey,” a voice nearly barked at me, and the only one who did that was Sam’s father. I turned and scowled at him.

“Fix your face,” he ordered me.

I huffed out a frustrated breath of air.

“You and Sam, that’s bedrock, you know? You make him better.”

My eyes filled so fast.

“Fix your face,” he muttered again, passing me his handkerchief. He made sure his arm stayed around me the whole time we walked out.

Once we’d driven over to the Congress Plaza Hotel & Convention Center on Michigan Avenue for the reception, he kept one arm around his wife and the other around me as we walked in. It was really nice. Both Jen and Rachel stayed close as well.

I felt the support of my family, even though Amanda spent the entire reception practically in Sam’s lap. She danced with him and led him to and from the floor with her hand in his; she fed him things off her plate and laughed like a hyena over everything he said. When she caught the bouquet, since it was basically tossed to her, she begged Sam to go up and catch the garter. He flat-out refused, and no amount of cajoling or begging or whining was going to move him. He smiled when he said no, and his eyes twinkled, but he wasn’t moving. Married men didn’t catch garters, and even though Sam didn’t tell anyone at Michael’s wedding that he was, in fact, married, he wouldn’t have lied if he’d been asked directly. Denial was not part of Sam Kage’s repertoire. When the best man caught the garter, Amanda took one photo with him before walking over and climbing back into Sam’s lap. They took many suggestive photos, to the catcalls and whistles of the crowd.

“Good for Sam for not being a hypocrite,” Aja commented when I told her what was going on downstairs. I was in our room, changing, when she called to check on me. “I mean, the man is married, after all.”

“Is he?”

“Jory Harcourt!” she yelled over the phone. “That’s a terrible thing to say! Of course he’s married! He’s married to you! I was there when you guys exchanged your really weird, really sweet vows.”

I laughed, remembering Sam and me standing in front of everyone and the justice of the peace in Ontario, Canada. I’d told him that I would love him forever and I would stick like glue no matter what. His smile, the look in his eyes, had told me everything, even before he promised to use the swear jar for our kids’ college fund, to never let me get away from him again, and to love me until he was dead. It was a little maudlin, Dane said “Okay” really loud once we were done, and everyone laughed before Sam grabbed me and kissed me breathless.

“Don’t let your brain start running,” she warned me. “We both know Sam loves you desperately. You just need to go back down to the party, get him, and bring him upstairs to your room. The wedding’s over, the bride and groom have retired, go get your man.”

I couldn’t hold in the laughter. Leave it to my sister-in-law to jolt me out of feeling sorry for myself. I was really very lucky. “Yeah? Go get my man?”

“Dane,” she called out, “come tell Jory to go downstairs and get Sam from the whore who thinks she has a chance with him!”

His groan was loud.

“Dane!” She was insistent.

“I’m certain Sam doesn’t need to be gotten from anything or anyone,” I heard my brother say. “You’re both being ridiculous. I have no doubt that Sam is having a nightcap, closing out the evening, and participating in the final toast, as that’s the polite thing to do as a member of the wedding party. He will be up as soon as that concludes.”

Aja grunted.

“You’re adorable,” Dane murmured.

“Bye,” she said, giggling.

With Aja being possessive and Dane being reasonable, I felt better.

Everyone who was staying overnight had moved to the bar by the time I got back downstairs. The bridal party was still drinking, along with some family members, friends, and various stragglers. They were all sitting toward the back, all still in their wedding finery—bridesmaids’ dresses, tuxedos, suits, and gowns from the formal affair definitely showing signs that the festivities were coming to an end. High heels had come off, ties had been discarded, and shirttails were hanging out. It was about comfort, since no one but me had left to shower and change. I walked to the bar, ordered a snifter of brandy—it was late, after all—and then walked over to the table where Sam was.

“Jory,” Sam’s cousin Jesse greeted me drunkenly, taking my hand the way he always did. The Kages were a big touchy-feely group. “I was wondering where you were.”

Sam’s head turned from talking to Amanda, and his eyes hit mine.

“Hey.” I smiled at him, taking a sip of my drink.