Chapter 19
Guests packed lower Manhattan’s Trinity Church by the time Gideon and Lily arrived for the wedding of Tony’s sister, Kate.
As they entered the church, the scent of yellow and white roses wafted toward them. Bouquets festooned the pews, pulpit and along the walls. Guests spoke among themselves; the hum of their voices mingled and echoed through the sanctuary. Above and behind them, a small string quartet played music. The notes chimed, adding to the romantic atmosphere. The bridesmaids wore ice blue floor-length sheaths; the groomsmen wore gardenias in the lapels of their dove-gray tuxedos. Tony fit the part of proud brother perfectly as he welcomed guests, hugged friends and relations and ushered people to their seats.
Gideon remembered Kate from when they were children. She’d been a tomboy who’d gotten into as much, if not more, trouble than he and Tony had, and he couldn’t believe the change in her as she glided down the aisle. She reflected a serene elegance, with her hair upswept beneath her veil, her blue eyes focused on her husband-to-be and her hand on her father’s arm.
Gideon stole a glance at Lily. He studied her as she focused on the service. Her green dress emphasized her eyes, which sparkled. They reminded him of sea glass. Her skin glistened and his hand moved on its own accord to rub her back, exposed by her backless dress. Would her skin feel as soft as he fantasized? It did, and he ran his fingers down her spine. Her mouth curved in a small smile of bliss and he would have sworn she shivered, but whether it was from his touch or the slight chill in the church, he couldn’t say for certain. She leaned into his arm though, as he returned his attention to the front of the church.
When the mass and the ceremony ended, they went outside to await the bride and groom’s exit. After the dim light of the church, the bright sunlight blinded them momentarily and Lily groped for his shoulder. He paused to assist her as the heat and humidity from the hot summer day hit him in the face. One of the attendants gave them each a bottle of bubbles and a moment later, the newly married couple emerged to a shower of bubbles and rose petals. Tony followed them out and briefly chatted with Gideon and Lily.
“Your sister looked beautiful.” Lily kissed him on the cheek.
“Yeah, she did. Thanks for coming.” Tony beamed, glancing over at the happy couple.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Gideon said as he gripped Tony’s hand. As he reflected on his words, he realized with shock they were true.
Before the wedding had started, Tony’s parents had approached them, introduced themselves to Lily, and hugged Gideon. What he’d expected to be awkward was bittersweet. They’d all changed. Some aged, some matured. Some, like him, changed forever in ways no one would have imagined. But they all had a common bond, and events such as these served to remind him of their bond. Reconnecting with people who knew him as a child reminded him of his place in the world. It reinforced his foundation, provided him a reason for his existence. Sharing the moment with Lily offered him the possibility of a future.
Did she have any idea how momentous this occasion was for him? She met his glance and smiled. Rather than make a scene, he decided to confess his feelings to her later, and led her toward the cars waiting to take them to the reception.
****
The reception took place in the lower ballroom of Brighton Manor, an old converted brownstone.
They entered through the back to avoid the stairs, and took the elevator to the first floor. From the entrance hall, it appeared as if they were transported to the 19th century. The hall featured black and white marble floors, mahogany wainscoting and arched ceilings with elaborate molding. Expensive heels clicked and clacked as guests strolled through the hall into the cocktail room. Previously the library, it sat to one side of the grand foyer. Floor to ceiling mahogany bookshelves lined every wall and Aubusson rugs covered the floor. Lily could imagine the scent of pipes and old books and sniffed in appreciation. Now, small cocktail tables placed strategically allowed enough space for guests to mingle, and also offered them the opportunity to sit and enjoy their hors d’oeuvres. Hushed voices and a lovely Brahms melody from a string quartet greeted them as they passed white damask tablecloths and white rose centerpieces.
Inside the ballroom, the parquet floor shone and reflected the opulent crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling. Minute white lights highlighted the floor to ceiling windows and glowed in the wall of mirrors on the north side of the ballroom. A huge fireplace with a stone hearth occupied the entire wall at the east end of the room. A bar along the western side offered any drink guests wanted.
As she and Gideon crossed the room, she met more friends and family of the bride and groom—friends from his childhood. Nothing like meeting everyone from Gideon’s past in one day. Everyone passed pictures around of their children. Lily oohed and aahed at the appropriate times, asked questions about their families and work, and answered their questions in turn.
While they stood talking, a man approached her and offered her a drink.
“Oh, thanks, but we’ll get our own,” she said. Gideon leaned over to her and asked what she wanted. He took her order and went over to the bar. While she waited for him to return, she thought about her own wedding.
A wistful smile played about her mouth as she recollected every detail of her day—the perfume of gardenias, the notes from the flute that played as she walked down the aisle, the hazy appearance of everything from beneath her veil until the second she saw Daniel at the other end of the aisle. At that moment, all noise faded into the background. The only thing she heard was the beat of her own heart as it raced in anticipation. The only thing she saw was Daniel and the love that shone from his eyes. Lily was jarred back to the present by someone cupping her elbow.
“Do you want to dance?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you, I need to find my date.” She spotted him a few feet away. He sat motionless, drinks obviously forgotten as condensation dripped onto his wrist undetected. He remained there until Lily’s tap on his shoulder jolted him.
“There you are,” she said as she approached him. His face was strained, eyes unreadable behind his spectacles, vein throbbing in his neck. Despite that, he was easily the most handsome man at the party. The tuxedo jacket fit beautifully over his well-defined shoulders and the white shirt accentuated his well-developed chest muscles and contrasted nicely with his tanned throat. Lily drank in every handsome, sexy feature with delight and blushed as her thoughts turned to the parts of his body hidden from view.
Wordlessly, he handed her the drink. Their fingers touched and he jumped as if in pain.
“Thank you.”
“Let’s get out of here.” She wondered if he’d read her mind and she convinced herself not to be too embarrassed if he had. She followed him out the door. They exited the main ballroom and entered an atrium with unobstructed views of the city. Gideon didn’t stop until he’d reached the far windows, where he stared at the city lights.
“Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?” She glanced admiringly at his reflection in the windows. Definitely an understatement. She ran a perfectly manicured finger across the wide expanse of his shoulders. Through the expensive wool of his jacket, she could feel his rock hard muscles.
Breath whooshed out and he flashed a sarcastic grin. “You say that now, but you won’t think so when I roll over your toes.”
“And ruin my brand new shoes? I don’t think so!” She frowned and twisted her foot to admire her new strappy sandals.
He chuckled. “Ah, I forgot, never get between a woman and her Jimmy Choos.”
“Hey, don’t blame me, buster, you’re the one who picked the outfit.” She brushed the hair off his forehead, admired its softness and kept her palm against his cheek for a moment as she attempted to ease his thoughts.
“So this is my fault?” He leaned into her hand.
“It always is.” She smirked, and he rolled his eyes.
“Great. Why do I think I’m in big trouble?”
“Honey, this is only the beginning.”
He groaned, pulled her onto his lap and whispered, “Do you mind if we stay out here a minute? I like looking at the grandeur of the Manhattan skyline—it reminds me there are things more important in life than myself.”
His voice had a slight catch to it and she willed it away. “No problem.” She lightly stroked his shoulder and moved closer to him, resting her forehead on his temple. She inhaled his scent—musk, soap and man. Her insides flip-flopped.
“Are you coming onto me?” His eyes gleamed and her heart lifted as his mood lightened.
“Think you could handle it?” She gave him her most seductive look.
He closed his eyes in mock horror. “Lord help me!”
Unable to hold the pose any longer, Lily burst into laughter. A waitress carried glasses of champagne, and Gideon and Lily each took one for themselves. She raised an eyebrow at him, as their glasses clinked for their own private toast. “Drinking and driving?”
“Worried about your shoes again?”
Lily smiled. “You know, I’ll have to check my closet. If we’re going to continue seeing each other, I may just have to go shoe shopping.”
“Yeah, there are benefits to our arrangement.” When another waitress passed by, he put his empty glass on her tray. Lily did the same. “Shall we mingle?”
“Lead on, McDuff,” she said and followed him.
“Do you even know where that’s from?”
“Of course not. Why, do you?”
Gideon pushed up his glasses. “You’re unbelievable,” he said as he led her over to some acquaintances. Lily patted his shoulder and followed him.
They spent the rest of the cocktail hour mingling. When it was time for dinner, they returned to the ballroom, where a huge buffet table sat in front of the wall of mirrors and the aroma of filet mignon made Lily’s mouth water. People stood in line, helped themselves to food and sat at one of the many tables situated around the dance floor. The band played dinner music against the south wall. Lily followed Gideon to the buffet table. Helping themselves to food—he to filet mignon and stir-fried vegetables, she to salmon and wild rice—they finished by going over to a table already occupied by a couple they knew. They joined them, and all of them joked over dinner. Soon they were joined by three other couples. The meal passed pleasantly, and Lily stole frequent glances at Gideon. She stroked his leg, rubbed the nape of his neck and smiled at the desire that mirrored her own feelings.
“Do you want to dance?” They both jumped at the sound of the voice next to them as Dave leaned over and reached for his wife, Liane. With a smile, she excused herself and they walked onto the dance floor. Other couples followed, and soon Gideon and Lily sat alone. Lily commented quietly on the gracefulness of some, and the clumsiness of others. Gideon laughed at her comments, and took her hand under the table. He caressed her fingers as they watched the dancers and listened to the music. As one of the songs ended, Liane left and Dave returned to the table.
“Liane went to the ladies’ room,” he said. “Gideon, do you mind if I borrow Lily?”
Before he could answer, Lily piped up. “Oh, thanks Dave, but these new shoes are killing my feet. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be any good out there at all. I appreciate the offer though.”
“Okay, I’m going to get a drink from the bar. Can I get either of you anything?” Gideon and Lily shook their heads, and watched as Dave headed to the bar.
Alone once again, Gideon cleared his throat. “You could have danced with him if you wanted. I wouldn’t mind.”
Liar. The throbbing tendon in his neck showed her how much he would mind, but she refrained from pointing it out. Instead, Lily took a sip of her water, swallowed, and faced him. “I appreciate your consideration, but my feet do hurt.” At his raised eyebrow, she hurried to add, “Oh, not enough to prevent me from dancing with someone I really wanted to dance with, but other than you, there’s no one here I’d risk blisters for.” She played with the stem of her water glass and met his gaze. “Besides, we didn’t discuss my dancing with other men in advance, and I’d never do it without knowing exactly how you felt about it.”
Gideon swallowed and let his gaze wander. “Thank you,” he murmured. “But I want you to have fun. You shouldn’t miss out on dancing because of me.”
Lily reached over and rested her hand on top of his. It was warm beneath hers, solid. Like him. She drew imaginary circles around his knuckles, until he flipped his palm over and grabbed her fingers. “I’m not missing out on anything. It’s not like I expected you to pull a Fred Astaire on me.” He met her gaze and grinned ruefully. “I’m thrilled to be here with you. Besides, this is my chance to have you all to myself without worrying Claire is going to pull you away for a game of Trouble or something.” Gideon laughed. She leaned against his shoulder and they listened to the music together.
Tony came over. “Hey guys, enjoying yourselves?”
“It’s wonderful, Tony.” Lily answered. Gideon nodded in agreement. Tony tapped Gideon’s shoulder.
“Mind if I ask this sexy lady to dance?” As Lily began to protest, Gideon interrupted and pulled away from her.
“Go ahead, Lily.”
With another backward glance, she followed Tony onto the dance floor. She turned into his arms. He said something, and Lily tipped her head and laughed. He expertly maneuvered her from one end of the dance floor to the other in a series of intricate steps. As she caught her breath, she glanced over his shoulder and saw an empty place where Gideon had been. Her pulse increased.
When the music ended, Tony led Lily to her seat. “Did you see where Gideon went?” she asked.
Tony shook his head and wiped perspiration from his forehead. “He’s around somewhere,” he said.
Lily scanned the room, but didn’t see him. “I’m going to the restroom. If you see Gideon, tell him I was looking for him, okay?” She left the ballroom. As she neared the ladies’ room, Gideon was at the opposite end of the hallway, heading toward the exit. She hurried toward him. “Hey you,” she called out. She saw his flash of anger and braced herself for an outburst. Her chest tightened. She’d hoped he’d changed. When none came, she frowned. “Are you angry with me? You’re the one who told me to dance with him,” she chided. His face lost all expression and her heart plummeted into her stomach.
“Of course not. Did you have fun?” he asked, his tone flat. His eyes couldn’t hide his jealousy.
“Yeah, I did.” She sat on the bench next to him. “I haven’t danced like that in years. Tony’s a great dancer. What are you doing out here?”
“Weddings always make me think of the future.” His tone was bitter.
“Really?” Her stomach dropped.
“Yeah. It’s why I avoided them after my accident.”
His entire body reminded her of a taught violin string—every muscle pulled so tightly, she expected him to start making music on his own. The vein in his neck—the one that always betrayed—throbbed and he held his head at a particular angle that spoke louder than any words. He was nothing if not predictable. She’d expected him to be uncomfortable, despite how he’d practically forced her to dance with Tony. She knew it would come to the forefront at some point, and that “point” appeared to be now.
“You don’t discussed your accident, and I haven’t wanted to pry. But if you want to, I’m here.” She stretched her hand out to him, but he remained out of her reach. She longed to touch him.
He swallowed and his Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “I never thought I had a future, not as far as relationships were concerned.”
“And now?”
“Then I met you.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. He took deep breaths. “And I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe a relationship wasn’t out of my grasp.”
Lily didn’t move. The noise from the wedding faded into the background and everything became blurry, except for Gideon. He was crystal clear. She waited for him to continue and held her breath.
“But I saw you with Tony, and everything fell into place. You two made a stunning couple. Most women would be falling all over themselves trying to get him to even pay attention to them, much less dance with them.”
Lily gasped. Could he be jealous? Of Tony? With me? After all this time? She watched him closely. His breath caught and he flushed. “Yes, he’s handsome enough,” she acquiesced. “A good conversationalist, amusing, smart, very pleasant.”
Gideon’s flush deepened and spread downward. It covered his neck and made the white of his shirt stand out in comparison to the darkness of his skin. She could practically smell the jealousy emanating from him. Part of her felt desired, but another part of her wished he’d have more confidence in her feelings. “He’s definitely got a lot going for him and he’ll make someone a fine husband someday, maybe even Samantha, but I’ve never thought of him that way. I thought you knew that.” She waited to see what Gideon would do, but he continued to stare into the distance, a boulder in the middle of a rushing river. “Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment, but I much prefer men who are prickly,” she whispered. “Grumbly even.” She waited, and he relented and faced her.
“You deserve better.” He looked so unsure, her chest ached.
“What do you mean?” Suddenly the world tipped off-kilter. She’d thought she knew where the conversation was headed, but it took a left turn somewhere. She was lost without a navigational system.
“I’m talking about you and me. It shouldn’t happen,” he said firmly. “It won’t happen.”
Gideon’s words stopped her in her tracks, like a huge metal door slamming shut. She could practically hear the echo and feel the reverberations as he put an end to her dreams before she’d had a chance to fully realize them.
“Why not?”
“I’m not your type, Lil.”
Her head began to throb. “Oh, what’s my type?”
“Walking.”
She stared at him, horrified. For a moment, she would have sworn he slapped her. Only his complete, utter stillness prevented her from touching her cheek to feel the burn. “How dare you?” She pulled away from him. “How dare you presume to know my type?” Her hands shook. “And how dare you assume I wouldn’t want a future with you just because you’re in a wheelchair.” She clenched her fists. “I deserve better than that.”
“You’re right, you do.” His voice grew louder. “You deserve someone who can dance with you, who can take care of you, who can be an equal partner with you.”
“And you can’t?”
Gideon snorted. “Dance with you?”
“Take care of me.”
He stared at his legs. “Not the way you should be taken care of.”
Anger boiled inside her. “Who says I want someone to take care of me? And even if I did, who says you can’t be that someone?”
His nostrils flared and his chest heaved. “I do.”
“Why?”
“Because of this chair.” He slammed his fist against the wall, and Lily jumped. He turned away from her, but she grabbed his chair. She’d never done that before, never dared to do it, knowing how he valued his independence. But she did now. Before he could react, she’d leaned forward, her face inches away from his.
“This chair is not the problem. The problem is you’re afraid. You’re too afraid of rejection, regardless of whether or not you use a wheelchair. You’re afraid of being rejected and you blame it on your chair.”
His eyes were flinty. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“My best friend, a wonderful man who has a lot to give to a relationship, but is so afraid a woman will be turned off by his legs, he won’t risk it.” Her chest expanded at her newfound ability to confront him, but it didn’t last.
The quiet after their outburst was palpable, and they each paused, panting. Finally, Gideon sliced through it and spoke, his voice hoarse with longing.
“Lil, I can’t ask someone to willingly volunteer for a life like this, when I would give anything, do anything, to avoid it.” He ran his hands angrily over the rims of the wheels.
Her heart felt like it was shrinking. Was he serious? “Why not?”
“Because what happens when it becomes too much for her? It’s not fair.”
“To whom? You or her?”
“You!” His face was contorted with grief.
“You want to know what’s not fair?” Lily stood and started to pace. If she sat still, her emotions would explode from her brain, so she struggled to ease their intensity—her anger at him for his lack of faith in her, her fear that the most important man in her life was about to roll through the door, her heartbreak over the depth of Gideon’s emotional wounds. Each time she spun on her heel, it dug into the carpet and she pictured each of Gideon’s hateful words ground into dust. “What’s not fair is your lack of faith in me. And in yourself.”
Gideon took a deep breath. “I have to be able to give you what you need, not ask you to sacrifice your happiness to be with me. I can’t have you thinking about what I can or can’t do, trying to help me, and pitying me.”
“I don’t!” Music filtered out from the ballroom and beckoned to her to rejoin party. But she wanted to remain outside, alone with him.
“But you will. If I ask you to be a part of my life, to make your life with mine, you’ll eventually be looking out for me, watching over me, seeing the chair, not the man.” His voice caught and he stopped.
“That’s not fair.”
“I know, but how fair will it be to me when you decide you can’t handle this relationship? I don’t want to dump everything on you and watch you walk out the door.”
“Relationship? What relationship? You’re making it perfectly clear we’ve never had one.” Lily was tired of the same conversation, over and over again. Was he so broken he couldn’t see past this? She reached for the side of his face. He stiffened. His cheek was warm, and the faint scratch of stubble tickled her palm. He flinched. “I don’t think the problem is with me, honey. I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me. I’ve never seen anything in you but the man. I want the man. I’m waiting for the man. When you’re ready to be the man, you let me know.” She squeezed his shoulder and left.