* * * *
Our cake came out, a six-foot tiered beauty with two grooms on the top. We hadn’t been sure the baker would agree to that, but he’d been surprisingly cooperative. The shortcake was covered with whipped cream, and the filling was strawberry. Wills took the knife, I covered his hand with mine, and we made the first cut and then fed each other.
Taking our plates, we began to make the rounds, pausing at each table to thank relatives and friends for joining us. Vince and his plus one were at the same table we’d put Paul and Spike and Tim and Cris, and two other couples I didn’t recognize.
“Babe, this is Mr. and Mrs. Shaw.”
“Thank you so much for inviting us.”
“You’re welcome.” They seemed like a nice couple, very accepting of the fact that their son’s best friend was gay. “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”
“We are. William was always like a second son to us.” Mr. Shaw squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“Wills told me about your son. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Shall we dance, Margaret? If you’ll excuse us?”
“Certainly.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“Not your fault. Michael was their only child. I doubt they’ll ever get over his death.”
And trust that son of a bitch Michael to cast a pall over his best friend’s wedding. I sent a glance toward Tim, and thank God he picked up on what I wanted.
He tapped his spoon against his water glass. Wills raised an eyebrow, but I stepped into his personal space and kissed him. No one could see, but there was tongue involved, and when I drew back, my husband was blushing.
Tim aimed his thumb and forefinger at Wills, who shook his head and straightened the hang of his tux jacket. He glanced briefly at Vince, and I turned my head to whisper in his ear, “Hell, babe, this is our wedding day. If I can’t kiss you in front of your boss today, when can I?”
“I guess you’re right.” He kissed me, leaving me breathless, and then held onto my hand and grinned across the table at Spike. “So when do the Oscar nominations come out?”
“Ah, Wills.” He blushed. He’d had a small part as ‘first teen to be killed’ in the teen slasher flick, In the Dark of the Night.
Everything old was new again, and that genre seemed to be making another comeback. I didn’t particularly care for that type of movie, but I was pleased for our boy.
“But you know what?” Paul stroked a hand over Spike’s back. “You’re not far off. They liked his work so much he’s going to be in the sequel.”
“Won’t the audience recognize him?” Wills asked. “Oh, wait! He’s going to play his twin brother!”
“Did you see the script?” Spike demanded suspiciously, and we burst into laughter.
“They really are? That was a joke, like Ripley coming back as a clone in the fourth Alien movie after she died in the third,” Wills whispered to me, “Only she really did, and it seems Spike will too. Well, congratulations!”
“Thanks, Wills.” Spike seemed to have gained more confidence in the past year, especially after what had happened earlier this past spring on the set of CIA. Vince had flown out to L. A. and taken care of it.
I took the seat on Vince’s other side, which was empty, since there were only four couples at this table. “Vince—”
“Theo, you’ve thanked me more than once. It’s okay.”
“Well—”
“Did I introduce you to Quinton Mann?” He was seated on Vince’s left.
“Yes, on the receiving line. It’s nice of you to join us, Mr. Mann. I hope you’re enjoying yourself?”
“I am.” He smiled at me. “I must say I was impressed by your husband’s singing.”
I couldn’t help grinning, not only for the compliment to Wills, but for hearing him called my husband. I ran my thumb over my wedding ring. “He’s amazing, isn’t he? He doesn’t usually sing in public, but this was important to him.”
“It’s obvious that he cares deeply for his grandparents.”
“Yes, he—”
“Excuse me, please.” Wills had been chatting with Paul, but now he addressed the rest of us.
“Wills?”
“I’m going to introduce Paul to my Dad and Jill.”
“Okay, babe.” I waved him away and turned back to Mr. Mann. “So, how did you and Vince meet?”
“Theo, we’re gonna dance.” Vince got to his feet and held his hand out. “Quinn?”
Mr. Mann’s eyes lit up. “You’re asking me to dance?”
“Yeah.”
“With you?”
“Jesus, Quinn. Who else would I dance with?”
He rose and took Vince’s hand. “I’ll enjoy dancing with you.”
I watched as they walked to the dance floor, both of them looking drop dead gorgeous in their tuxedoes.
“They do look good, don’t they?” Tim stood there. “C’mon, bridegroom. Dance with me. I want to hear what it’s like to be married.”