Body Double (19 page)

Scotty knelt beside her. “Sarah? Are you okay?”

She startled and then nodded. “Is Blake out there?”

“He is, and might I say he looks positively dashing. Let’s go get you married, shall we?” He handed her the bridal bouquet, and she lifted it to her nose and breathed in the lovely scent of roses.

She took one last look in the full-length mirror to make sure that the strapless bra wasn’t showing in the back, her makeup was even, the penciled birthmark on her right jaw wasn’t smudged, and her butterfly tattoo was covered up. Then she checked the bra strap again and dabbed at her eyeliner, wondering if it looked even.

“Don’t touch,” Rachel said. “I’ve got you just perfect.”

“Sarah?” Scotty offered his hand. “Don’t be nervous. It’s a happy day.”

Her heart pounded so hard, she felt light-headed. Her muscles felt weak, and a white film covered her vision. “Just need a sip of water.” She found the bottle she’d been drinking from and guzzled it down. A drop of water trickled down her chin. In a panic, she reached for a tissue to blot the water before it messed up her makeup.

“No, no,” Rachel said, hurrying to take the tissue from her. “Let me get that.” She dabbed at the droplets of water and then looked her over with a critical eye. “You’re fine. No damage done.”

“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah,” Scotty said, taking the water bottle. “All these little delays aren’t going to add up to much. Do you need more time?”

She nodded, chewing her bottom lip. “I’m scared, Scotty.” Her words came out in a whisper.

“Aww, honey, come here.” He gave her a warm embrace, though carefully enough not to mess up her hair. “Let me get Charlotte back in here.”

“No,” Andrea said, pulling back. “I don’t want Blake to worry. I’ll be okay. Stay with me until I start walking down the aisle?”

“Of course I will, hon.”

“Let’s put your veil on,” Rachel said. She took the veil from its hanger and pulled it up over Andrea’s head from the back. Taking care not to disturb her hair, she inserted the comb at the crown and pulled the veil forward over her face, then checked that it hung evenly all the way around. “There you are. You’re ready to get married.”

“Thank you.” She slipped her hand into the crook of Scotty’s arm and gathered the skirt of her gown with her other hand. Rachel bid her good luck. She paused at the door for a deep breath to gather her nerve before walking down the hallway to the door leading outside to the gazebo. There, Harold Gentry stood with his hands clasped before him, watching her.

“You look beautiful beyond words, baby doll,” Harold said as she neared. “I wish your mama was here to see you.” His eyes shone, and his smile was broad. At that moment, he didn’t look like the stingy jerk who’d shut down Delmar and threatened The Lighthouse or the controlling ass who was forcing Sarah to marry a man she didn’t love. He looked like a proud and loving father.

It might have been the wrong thing to do, but she couldn’t help it. She put her arms around him in a warm embrace and whispered, “Thank you, Father,” into his ear. He hesitated before returning the embrace, and then patted her back. When she pulled away, Andrea gifted him with a shallow smile, lips together to keep him from seeing her teeth. She took his arm and nodded to Scotty to signal she was as ready as she would ever be.

Scotty opened the door and kicked the doorstop into place. Through the ivy growing on the lattice barrier, Andrea could see that the rows of chairs were filled with people, all dressed in fine clothes. In the gazebo stood four people: Charlotte, Joe, Uncle Roy, and Blake. He was there. He hadn’t ditched her.

Scotty gave a signal to his assistant, and the music started to play over the loudspeaker. He showed Andrea three fingers, then two, then one. “And go. Good luck.”

Her hands trembled and her knees felt like they might give out any moment. If not for her hold on Harold Gentry’s arm, she might have stumbled or frozen. Together, they stepped out from behind the partition. Seeing Blake standing at the gazebo with his hands behind his back replaced her anxiety with relief. He really was there. It would happen this time.

He started walking toward her, looking debonair in a black tuxedo with a dark purple cummerbund and bow tie.

Every step she took strengthened her resolve. The hardest part was nearly over. Andrea felt herself getting more excited.

Finally, they reached the last row of chairs. Harold stopped, patted her hand, and leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek. Into her ear, he whispered, “I knew he could turn you straight.”

Andrea shot him a glare. How did he not know that being straight or gay wasn’t a choice? It occurred to her that by kissing Blake the way she had at rehearsal, by behaving like a heterosexual woman with a man she was attracted to, she was reinforcing Harold’s ignorance. Now he would never accept Sarah for who she was, and it was Andrea’s fault.

Stunned by her late revelation, she was barely conscious of taking Blake’s offered arm and walking with him the rest of the way to the gazebo. It was like a dream, gliding along the spongy grass carpet while people on both sides gazed at her with smiles on their faces, some sniffling into handkerchiefs. He helped her step up onto the platform, and they turned to face each other. Her heart pounded as she realized the moment was upon her. She was about to get married.

This was what her own marriage should have been.

Something in Blake’s face was different. He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, and his eyes were filled with contentment. He seemed pleased to be there, marrying Sarah in spite of everything he knew about their marriage and how passionless and short-lived it would be. She was happy for him, that he’d found peace with his decision. He still had some secret he hadn’t confessed to Andrea yet about his true motive for being there, but she didn’t think she would ever find out what it was. Nor was it her business. She had a job to do, and that was to pledge Sarah in marriage to this man in front of the hundred strangers watching from the white chairs arranged on the lawn.

Blake carefully lifted the veil and gazed into her eyes with excitement sparkling in his own. Andrea could barely hear what Uncle Roy was saying, so intently was she focused on the mossy and earthen specks in his beautiful eyes. They seemed to fill her vision, while electricity flowed into her from his hands holding hers. Pretending he was marrying her was not only more exciting than thinking he was marrying someone who merely looked like her, but the pretense felt far more real than the reality did.

And then he was speaking. She watched his lips move, eager to feel them press against her own to seal this union.

“I, Blake Thomas, take you, Sarah Gentry, to be my beloved wife, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.” He turned briefly to Joe, who offered a ring in a velvety black case. Blake slid the ring onto Andrea’s finger. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness. As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you. I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today, our wedding day.”

It was her turn. Her teeth chattered and her throat clenched as she repeated the words she’d rehearsed, following Uncle Roy’s softly spoken cues when her tongue stumbled. Beside her, Charlotte opened the black velvet box, and Andrea removed the ring. Blake looked at it with raised brows, but rather than frown with disappointment, he smiled and offered his finger. She had to push hard to get it over his knuckle, but it fit well once it was in place.

“By the power vested in me,” Uncle Roy said, “I pronounce you husband and wife. Kiss your lovely bride, Blake.”

Blake dropped her hands and wrapped his arms around her, stepping in close. This wasn’t what they’d planned. She was taken aback, but she followed his lead by lifting her face to his. He covered her mouth with his, lips slightly parted, and kissed her with a barely restrained passion. She felt it coursing through him, through her, threatening to burst through at any moment. He kissed her twice more, briefly, before hugging her tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For this, for the ring, for everything. I meant what I said yesterday.” He pulled back and kissed her once more.

Everyone was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Andrea felt warmth flood her face, but she was too happy to dwell on the strangers. She and Blake waved to everyone and then posed for pictures with the wedding party, the parents of the bride and groom, and just the two of them together in their wedding attire. Though Blake’s earlier comment about her smile made her aware she could be discovered any second, she was too happy to hide it. She’d made it through the wedding and had a sweet and handsome pretend husband at that. She couldn’t help but smile.

“One quick order of business before you go,” Uncle Roy said. He was standing beside the small table, upon which was the marriage license. He’d signed it and offered the pen to them for their signatures. Blake signed first and handed the pen to Andrea.

She signed for the bride as Sarah Gentry by Andrea Lindholm, POA. She didn’t want Uncle Roy to see the signature, and so she picked up the paper, blew on the ink to dry it, and then handed it to Charlotte. They shared a glance and a nod, and Charlotte folded it and kept it in her hand. “I’ll send this to the county so you won’t need to worry about it.”

“Let’s get this party started,” Joe said, slapping Blake on the shoulder.

Andrea slipped her hand into Blake’s, and they hurried back up the aisle toward the waiting carriage under a rain of rice, both laughing.

Blake admired Andrea from the carriage seat beside him, enjoying the glow of victory in her face. What impressed him the most was that she’d done everything she’d promised to do. She’d sacrificed her own time, put herself at risk of embarrassment, and wrestled her own inner demons to do this. For him. “You were amazing, babe. Everything went perfectly.”

She snuggled against him, nestled under the drape of his arm across her seat back. “I was scared to death. Scotty had to practically pry my hands off the doorjamb.”

“You know the reception’s going to be the hard part, right?” He would be with her, protect her from all the strangers who would be accosting her, but it had to be a scary proposition. Her acting role as Sarah would be put to the test.

She nodded and snuggled closer. “Yeah, I know. The stress might give me a touch of laryngitis.”

Blake chuckled. “Not a bad idea.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “I was kidding, but you’re right. That isn’t a bad idea. I can whisper everything and point to my throat, carry water around, and constantly sip it. It could work.”

He nodded, touched that she was still game to do it. She was such a trooper. He couldn’t remember dating a woman with Andrea’s selfless determination. “I have another idea. We could skip it.”

Sitting up, she turned in the seat and studied him. Before she could say what was on her mind, the carriage stopped at the curb in front of the hotel, and the footman opened the door to help them out. A limousine was parked in front of the carriage.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas,” the limo driver said with a bow.

“Mrs. Thomas,” Blake said, smiling at Andrea. If only she were the real Mrs. Thomas. He could get used to that.

“I’m Pedro, and I’ll be driving you until Steven returns. Five Aces Limousine Service apologizes for the lack of professionalism displayed by the last driver. We have taken the liberty of sending a bottle of Dom Pérignon to your hotel suite as an expression of our most sincere apology.”

Blake and Andrea raised their brows at each other. Not a bad apology. “We appreciate it, Pedro. Thanks.”

“Sean wasn’t fired, was he?” Andrea asked, trepidation in her face.

“No, ma’am, just sent back to training.”

Her face relaxed into a smile of acceptance, and she nodded.

The hotel’s doorman opened the doors for them, and they headed up to the honeymoon suite. Once they were alone in the elevator, Andrea said, “Blake, you weren’t serious, were you? We can’t skip the reception. That’s where most of the photos will be taken. You’ll only have the few shots we took in the gazebo if we don’t go.”

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Sarah’s planning to divorce me as soon as she can. I don’t think she cares much. All this pomp and circumstance was for our parents’ benefit—mostly to convince her father that she’s truly married, satisfying his terms for her inheritance.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t he just change the will again if you get divorced?”

“He could. She’s banking on him not.” The elevator doors opened, and he guided her down the corridor to their room.

“That’s a big risk, considering the amended prenup I signed on her behalf. She wouldn’t get your money either.” She thought for a moment. “What would we do with the next few hours then? Surely someone will come looking for us if we don’t show up at the reception.”

“I have an idea,” Blake said. He slid the key card into the lock and opened the door.