Rare and Precious Things

Neil grinned widely and pulled Elaina up against his big body. “I know, and I’m counting the days ’til I can make this one an honest woman.”

“Ha, more like Elaina making an honest man out of you, my friend,” Ethan shot back.

“That’s true, but you’ll finally get to bring Brynne up to Scotland so she can see the place.”

“Trust me, Neil, I would give just about anything to be up there in beautiful Scotland right now, seeing your place and enjoying your post-wedding breakfast,” I told him truthfully.

I looked over at Ethan and we shared a co-conspirator smile, because it had been originally their idea to have the overnight weekend thing in the first place. Neil owned a great estate up in Scotland, and since people were coming all the way up there, they had organized a guest sleepover for their wedding, too. It’d sounded like a nice idea at the time.

“Why’s that?” Neil and Elaina asked together.

“You’ll find out,” Ethan and I answered innocently.

“AND Gaby, is where? I need to say goodbye.” I’d scanned the room repeatedly for my best friend but she was nowhere that I could see.

“That’s a really good question,” Ethan answered. “For that matter, where in the hell is Ivan?”

I shrugged. “Looks like our best man and maid of honor have ditched this party for greener pastures.” I giggled. “Maybe they’re off ditching together. That would be interesting.”

“I know, right? Gabrielle is Ivan’s flavor for sure.”

“I could swear I was picking up on a vibe between them last night when I was with Ben, and we were stalking them as Simon was snapping candid pictures. Do you think your cousin and my friend just might have a little somethin’-somethin’ going on?”

“If they do, Ivan hasn’t said a word to me about it. But, there was that night at the Mallerton Gala when the alarm went off. I always wondered what happened with the two of them, because I saw them both within seconds of each other coming from the same direction, when we were all running out. Like maybe they were together…”

“You never told me that, Ethan.” I shook my head at him in disbelief. “Honestly, you men just don’t tell details very well at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t important at the time, baby. I was a little preoccupied on finding you.” He pulled me against him and kissed me firmly on the lips, making me forget we were in a very public room of people watching us, until the tinkling of silverware on crystal rang out to remind us. I felt my face flush, and heard Ethan groan as we pulled apart, muttering something under his breath about “four more f**king hours.”

“There they are. Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone have arrived finally.” Ethan’s dad, Jonathan, opened his arms and embraced us in a three-way hug. “You did it, my dears. And very well too, I might add.” He kissed me on the cheek and clapped Ethan on the back, meeting him eye to eye, man to man, in a moment of silent communication, which they both understood without a shadow of a doubt.

I could only guess as to what they were both thinking, but I had my theories. They were acknowledging Ethan’s mother as being here with them, for this special occasion along the road of his life’s journey. Jonathan looked up at the ceiling for just a split second, before nodding to Ethan. I saw Ethan return the gesture to his dad, and then I felt a squeeze to my hand from him.

My hand which had remained clasped so very tightly in his because he’d never let go of it.

And so we began our marriage, on a summer’s day in late August, just barely four months after laying our eyes upon one another for the first time. It had all begun across a crowded room one night in the spring—at a gallery tucked away on a London street—when fate had stepped in and forever changed the course of our lives.

CHAPTER 4

30th August

Italian Riviera

THE Italian sun shining down upon the village of Porto Santo Stefano warmed me, and although the view of the rock islands in the small cove was stunning, I didn’t want to open my eyes and see it. I was too warm and sleepy, too perfectly content to even think about anything but letting myself indulge in the peace we had finally found. What a difference a little under a week made.

Ethan and I were in a very perfect place at the moment…where we didn’t have to panic about what we needed to do, or what bad thing could happen to us, or be shocked about what already had happened to us.

Yes, my life couldn’t compare to any resemblance of what it had been four short months ago, but then again, I was blissfully in love with my new husband and, after the initial shockwave of finding out we were going to be parents wore off, very much in love with that idea, too. I reached for my belly and rubbed over it gently. We had a peach for about two more days. After that? It was onward into lemon territory. My next appointment with Dr. Burnsley wasn’t for another month, and even though the scans might be able to show the sex of the baby that early, I was determined not to find out. I wanted to be surprised, and nobody was changing my mind on the matter. I’d told Ethan he could find out if he wanted to, but he’d better keep the knowledge to himself. He’d just given me a slightly bewildered look that probably meant something like, I love you, but you are downright scary right now, baby, and changed the subject. Such a man. But he was my man, and that was the important thing. We’d get through this frightening process of becoming parents together.

And so here I was, sunning on a private Italian beach at an exclusive villa, expecting that my man might bring me a cool drink when he finished his swim. Not bad, Mrs. Blackstone. I still hardly believed the name was real. The Mrs. Blackstone part was something Ethan took to heart because he sure said it a lot.

I squinted at my wedding ring and spun it around on my finger. I’m married now. To Ethan. We’re having a baby sometime toward the end of February. I wondered when, and if, the disbelief would ever wear off.

I turned my head the other way, readjusted myself on my side, and closed my eyes again, prepared to soak up some more of the glorious Italian sunshine, so abundant here, as opposed to where we lived. Autumn was just around the corner, and then the dreary days of winter in London would be fast on its heels. The time to enjoy the lovely sun was right now, so that’s what I did.

I let my mind wander, going to a place where everything was happy and easy, and tried to put all of the other things that were not happy and easy, away on their respective shelves, locked up tight in that scary cabinet I hated to open. The one for all the bad stuff to sit and gather some dust for a while—the worries about the regrets of life, the losses and the grief, the desperately poor decisions that had been made, and the consequences that resulted from those choices…