21
These w-waterworks have got to s-stop,” Charity said with a wobble in her voice, blinking in the sunlight that filtered through the gauzy sheers of her bedroom windows. The scent of Shalimar lingered in the air along with cousins’ shrieks and giggles in the backyard from a snowball fight going on.
“I don’t know how . . . ,” Emma said, swiping at the wetness on her face. Despite the chill of the snow-clad New Year’s Day, she had never felt so warm, so alive, so full of joy that just naturally spilled out.
Mrs. Sean O’Connor.
She closed her eyes and drank in the moment, Charity’s hand warm in hers while they sniffled and swayed to Rudy Vallee singing “As Time Goes By,” as it drifted from downstairs where family and friends waited to say goodbye. You must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply, as time goes by . . .
Emma smiled while more “waterworks” stung her eyes. As time goes by. In a few short weeks, a lifetime of sorrow and shame had, indeed, gone by, leaving Emma with new hope, a new husband, and a new life. Oh, Lord, how can I ever thank you?
Charity shoved one of ten handkerchiefs she stole from Mitch’s drawer into Emma’s hand, sniffling right along with her best friend. “We shouldn’t be crying—this is s-supposed to b-be the happiest d-day of our lives.”
Emma laughed, and then started blubbering again. “It issssss . . . ,” she said, hugging Charity before trailing off into another happy whimper. She pulled back and dabbed at her face, a crooked grin breaking through. “I think this may be a record—how many is this?” she asked, holding the handkerchief in the air.”
A waterlogged giggle broke through as Charity blew her nose. “T-ten t-total, including four for you and me and one each for my mother, sisters, Alli, and Bert.”
“Bert cried?” Emma asked, wonder lacing her tone.
Charity nodded, her lips veering into an off-center smile. “But I’m not sure if it’s because she’s happy or because she’s sitting next to Horace.” With a noticeable quiver of her lips, she clasped Emma’s hands in hers. “Emma O’Connor, do you have any idea how much I love you?”
Stroking a hand to Charity’s cheek, Emma gave her a watery smile so tender that on its own it assured Charity she was loved. “Yes, friend of my heart, I most definitely do.”
“Good,” Charity said with a final swipe of her handkerchief. She jutted her chin. “You better send me a postcard from New York before you sail for Killarney, Mrs. O’Connor, or your name is mud. And I still can’t believe it—not only my sister-in-law, but now an heiress too!” She winked. “Who knows—inheriting your aunt’s estate, you may be richer than me!”
Emma grinned. “Not likely, but I do remember Auntie Chloe always gave me the most lavish gifts when I was a little girl . . .” Her lips bent in a wry smile. “Before I sullied the family name with Rory, that is.”
Charity squeezed her hand. “Water under the bridge, Mrs. O’Connor. You have another family name to attend to now.” She glanced at her watch. “Goodness, we need to get you out of here before my brother breaks down the door.” She hugged Emma once more. “Friend of my heart, yes, but now sister of my heart too, don’t forget.”
“Emma, you ready?” Sean’s voice sounded along with a knock on the bedroom door, and Charity grinned. “Speak of the devil.”
Ready?? No! Not yet . . . Emma chewed her lip, certain she was forgetting something. “Almost,” she called while her gaze darted around the room in search of her purse.
“Here.” Charity handed her the pretty peach clutch that matched Emma’s tailored woolen suit perfectly, complemented by a simple strand of pearls that had been a wedding gift from Sean. “You look beautiful,” she said over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “But,” she said with a wiggle of brows, “not as beautiful as tonight in that very sheer negligee I gave you.”
Heat swallowed Emma whole just as Charity opened the door. Sean’s smile faded as he stepped in the room, looking so handsome in his charcoal double-breasted suit and striped tie that Emma felt like crying all over again. One look at his broad shoulders, commanding height, and chiseled features, and the heat from Charity’s remark traveled to every part of her body.
“Emma, are you okay?” he asked, blue eyes squinted in concern. “You look flushed.”
Charity grabbed Emma’s bouquet off the bed along with the garter and moseyed back to the door, giving him a wink. “That’s just the blush of love in her cheeks, brother dear. Come on, you two, there are plenty of women downstairs chomping at the bit to get their mitts on this bridal bouquet, although I’m not sure we’ll find too many takers for the garter.”
Sean stroked Emma’s cheek with his thumb, the look in his eyes warming her all over again. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, leaning to brush his lips against hers.
“Hey,” Charity said with a jerk of her head, “you have a whole week in New York for that stuff, never mind the rest of your lives. And lonely single women are waiting, you know.”
“What a slave driver.” Sean strolled to the door with a grin, then snatched the garter from Charity’s hand. His eyes sobered as he bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t know how Emma and I can ever thank you and Mitch for all you’ve done for us, sis.” A sheen of moisture shone in his eyes that rivaled his sister’s. He squeezed her arm with a crooked smile. “You’re one in a million, kid, you know that? Love ya.”
“Love ya back,” she said. “Besides, it’s the least I could do for my big brother and best friend, not to mention myself.” Her lips squirmed to the side. “You know I can’t rest until every O’Connor is happily wed.”
He twirled the garter on his finger with a grin. “Yeah, I know. Poor Steven.”
“You best throw that thing right at him, you hear?” Charity said, finger raised in warning.
“Yes, ma’am, but no guarantee,” he said, shoving the garter high on his forearm. “Steven’s even more gun-shy about marriage than I was.”
“Yeah, but we got our man, right, Emma?”
Emma grinned. “By the grace of God, I’m afraid, and the obstinance of my sister-in-law.”
“Sister-in-law . . . oh, that sounds so good, doesn’t it?” Charity sighed.
Emma nodded, fresh tears threatening.
“Don’t start,” Charity said sternly, blinking hard to dispel her own emotion. She jerked her head toward the landing. “Let’s go.”
Sean looked back at Emma and winked before easing the door closed in Charity’s face. “We’ll be right out, but first I have something to say to my wife.” With a firm click, he promptly locked it and turned, all but devouring Emma with his eyes as he slowly walked to where she stood, rooted to the floor. For the first time since Rory had thrown the hot grease in her face, she felt beautiful, sending warmth through her that could have curled her toes. “I love you,” he whispered, and her heart turned over at the heated look in his eyes. Like she was the world to him—the moon, the stars—or the woman he’d love for the rest of his days.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, slow and deliberate, causing her pulse to sprint. With a soft nuzzle of her lips, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
“Sean O’Connor, what are you doing?” she squealed, her heart swooping in her chest like a flock of seagulls diving over Massachusetts Bay.
He eased down on the bed with her snug on his lap, leveling her defenses with a single kiss that trapped a moan in her mouth. “Sweet chorus of angels,” he whispered, exploring her throat with his lips. His hands shimmied beneath the suitjacket and blouse to grip her close with a low groan. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”
Emma closed her eyes, every nerve tingling from the caress of his palms against her skin as they swept the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. His lips kindled a heat inside far warmer than the hungry reach of his hands or the gentle mating of his mouth against hers.
“I love you, Emma,” he whis
pered, causing the warmest of shivers to tremble her body, “and I plan to spend every minute of every day making sure you never forget.” He dipped her back on the bed and kissed her thoroughly until she completely forgot about the people below.
Oh, Lord, is this how much you love me? she wondered, intoxicated by the depth of Sean’s love.
More, came the answer, causing a surge of joy—and her husband’s fiery kiss—to take her breath away.
“Uh, excuse me, but are you two ever planning to come out?” Charity’s tease carried through the door while she interrupted them with an impatient tap. “Don’t mean to embarrass you, but there’s a foyer full of people who have a pre-e-e-etty good idea of what’s going on up here, so I suggest you save it for the honeymoon.”
Emma jolted up, her cheeks suddenly as warm as the rest of her body. “Coming!” she shouted, wriggling off Sean’s lap and retucking her blouse with a nervous chew of her lip.
Before she could steal away, he spun her back with a devious smile and a glint of trouble in lidded blue eyes. “Once I get you alone, Mrs. O’Connor, I plan to take full advantage of that ring on your finger, is that clear?”
She cupped his face, eyes tender. “It belongs to you, my love, as do I.” Giving him a kiss to tide him over, she tugged him to the door with a seductive smile that would have made Charity proud. “Keep in mind the sooner we leave, Sean O’Connor, the sooner I can give you all of my love.”
“God, give me patience,” he said with a grin, prodding her through the door as if to hurry the process.
They were met on the landing by laughter and chatter and Bing Crosby on the radio singing “Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams.” With a wink, Charity put two fingers to her teeth and produced an ear-splitting whistle that would have won Henry’s respect. “Listen up, everybody! We need to ship these two lovebirds off to New York pronto, but not before we lasso in another potential bride and groom with the toss of the bouquet and garter.”
“Uh-oh, gotta go—I think I hear my mother calling.” A lazy grin eased across Steven’s face as he stood talking to his brothers-in-law at the edge of the foyer, hip to the wall.
“Your mother is right here, young man,” Marcy said over her shoulder, patting her husband’s arm while chuckles circled the room. “Your father’s determined to trim our grocery bill one way or the other, so I suggest you belly up to the banister for a shot at the garter.”
“Mind your mother, Steven,” Patrick said with a loop of his wife’s waist.
“Yeah, Steven, just look what our garter did for Sean,” Luke said with a cocky grin, arm tucked around Katie’s shoulder while Kit slept, curled against his shoulder. “The man’s happily married to the only woman on earth capable of tying him down.”
“Excuse me,” Sean said from the landing, a possessive arm latched to Emma’s shoulders, “but I prefer to think of it as untying me from the lonely fate of a bachelor.”
“Turncoat,” Steven said, grinning up at his brother.
“Okay, ladies, move to the center of the foyer for a chance at happily ever after.” Charity waved the single women forward while Emma stepped up to the railing with the bouquet.
“Me, me, me,” Gabe shouted, jumping up and down along with the older cousins, all pink-cheeked from their romps in the snow.
“When you’re a little older,” Collin whispered to five-year-old Abby as he tugged her off to the side with a pout on her face. He swooped her up in his arms and blew a raspberry on her neck, and she giggled, while Lizzie handed Molly off to Brady with a kiss to his cheek. Glowing like a little girl at a party, Lizzie raced to join Faith, Katie, and her parents at the base of the stairs where they awaited Sean and Emma’s departure.
“Henry—freeze!” Charity’s voice rang in the foyer.
Slinking through the small crowd of family and friends, Henry stopped dead in his tracks behind his cousins, eyes like saucers and snowball in hand.
“Take that outside right now before I put it—and you—in the freezer, young man!”
Mitch cinched the back of Henry’s neck. “She’s got eyes in the back of her head, Son, don’t you know that by now?” He steered Henry to the front door. “Toss it, kiddo.”
“Ready?” Emma asked, bouquet in hand.
“Throw it already,” Bert called. “I’m not getting any younger, you know.” She slid a sideways smirk at the woman beside her. “And neither is Michelle.”
“Speak for yourself, Mrs. Adriani,” Michelle said, elbowing Bert out of the way.
Gabe spun around, arms on her hips. “Hey, no catching the bouquet if you’re married.”
“I’m a widow,” Bert said with a narrow glare. She nudged Gabe forward with the tip of her shoe. “Move it, short stuff. You’ve got time on your side—I don’t.”
“I thought you weren’t interested in marriage, Mrs. Adriani,” Sean yelled from the landing, shooting her a boyish smile that helped to soften her scowl.
“So weddings bring out the sap in me, is that a crime?”
“No, ma’am.” Sean nudged Emma’s arm with a hand to his mouth. “Is it, Horace?”
Emma had never seen Bert blush before, and the effect made her giggle. Sean nodded toward Horace against the wall, who was as scarlet as Bert, then leaned close. “Those two have been chatting it up all day—could be love in the air,” he whispered, and Emma grinned.
“Okay, here we go,” Emma said, turning her back to wave the bouquet overhead. “One . . . two . . . three!” Ribbons and flowers fluttered high along with shrieks and cheers while Gabe vaulted into the air, accidentally tipping the bouquet into Bert’s waiting hand. In a knee-jerk reaction, the little girl butted Bert’s hold, and the flowers somersaulted over Alli’s shoulder.
“Here you go, Alli,” Katie said with a quick swoop of the bouquet. “I believe this belongs to you.” She delivered a sassy smile while Bert’s and Gabe’s groans echoed through the foyer.
“Hey, no fair, Katie, you cheated!” Gabe said with a fold of her arms.
“Talk about cheating, you little squirt,” Bert groused. “You knocked it out of my hand.”
Gabe peered up, fists parked on her hips. “Oh, yeah? Well, I touched it before you did. Besides, you’re too old to get married.”
“Gabriella Dawn Smith—apologize this instant!” Marcy was aghast.
“Sorry,” Gabe said with a squint of her eyes that indicated she was anything but.
Bert matched her look, slit for slit. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She slid Alli a begrudging smile. “Good for you, kid. If anybody got it other than me, I’m glad it was you.”
“Thanks, Bert,” Alli said shyly, nose buried in the bouquet with a gentle smile.
Charity whistled again, and the foyer went silent. “Okay, gentlemen, it’s your turn, and you know who you are . . .” She arched a brow when Steven remained propped against the wall. “Steven . . . don’t make me come down there.”
Brady and Mitch laughed while Collin prodded Steven to where the other bachelors waited. “Move it, Steven,” he said with a gloat. “Misery loves company.”
Steven lumbered to the center of the room with his hands in his pockets. “May I remind you that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink?”
“Wanna bet?” Charity said, eyes narrowing into bully mode. “Trust me, if he wants leftover wedding cake, he’ll drink.”
Steven peered up at his sister, shaking his head. “Have you no shame?”
“None whatsoever,” Faith piped up from the sidelines, prompting more chuckles.
Emma laughed along with the others, heart overflowing that she was now part of this amazing family that had reached out to her, loved her, made her one of their own.
“All right, gentlemen,” Sean said, turning his back to the crowd, “give it your best shot.”
“Aim toward Steven on the right,” Charity whispered, and he grinned at Emma before letting it fly with an arm adept at sailing a baseball from center field to home plate. The garter rico
cheted off the far wall with a soft thump. Father Mac looked up in surprise when it bounced off his shoulder while chatting with Brady. Stooping to retrieve it, he bobbled it in his hand. “It’s a garter, Sean, not a basketball in a game to the death with your parish priest.” He tossed it toward the group of men in the center of the foyer, where it landed with a splat on the tip of Steven’s shoe.
All the men froze, including Steven, who stared as if it were bird droppings from the sky. With a slow and casual gait, James ambled over and stooped to pick it up, offering it to Steven.
Steven backed away, two palms up. “No thanks, buddy, it’s all yours.”
Applause drowned out Charity’s groan, and Emma’s heart took a dip when James tucked the garter in the pocket of his suit coat before shooting Alli a quiet smile.
All at once Sean looped Emma’s waist with a sturdy arm. “I told you love was in the air,” he whispered, then kissed her on top of the head. “We have to go.” With one last hug for Charity, Sean led Emma down the stairs for final goodbyes.
Patrick embraced her firmly. “We knew you belonged to us one way or the other, Emma,” he said with a chuckle, “and this certainly spares us the trouble of adoption. Welcome to the family.”
Marcy cupped Emma’s face with tears in her eyes. “Patrick and I couldn’t be happier, Emma. You’ve always been one of our own.”
Emma nodded, unable to speak for the hitch in her throat.
“You’ll love the Statue of Liberty,” Katie said with a squeeze. “Make sure you see it.”
“Oh, and try to see Show Boat on Broadway while you’re there,” Lizzie breathed. “I’ve read it’s really romantic.”
Faith kissed Sean’s cheek, then pulled Emma into a voracious hug. “You’re one of us, Emma, no backing out now.” She sniffed, desperately blinking away the tears in her eyes. “And as much as I love my family, somehow you make it more complete.”
Steven rattled his father’s car keys. “Come on, you two, I refuse to speed to get you to the station on time.”