You Were Made for Me Page 18

  “You’ll come by tomorrow?” Portia asked.

  “Sure.” I spoke for both of us, and Quinn leaned into me.

  “How are you, Mark?” Portia asked.

  “I’m good.” Actually, I was great, considering Quinn had agreed to marry me.

  “Excellent. Where are you planning on getting married? Should I have our passports ready?” She probably assumed we’d have to marry in Europe.

  “That won’t be necessary. We’re going to have the ceremony performed in Massachusetts.”

  “That’s right. Massachusetts recognized same-sex marriage earlier in the year.” That was Portia—a very smart woman. “Have you set a date?”

  “We thought September 30.”

  “I’ll mark it down on my calendar.” There was a pleased smile in her voice. “And we’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow. For lunch?”

  Quinn glanced at me, and I nodded.

  “That sounds perfect, Mother.”

  “Are you registered?” Novotny asked.

  “What?” What was he talking about?

  “Registered. You know. For wedding gifts?”

  “We don’t need anything.”

  “You’re going to deprive your friends and relatives from having the pleasure of buying you stuff?”

  “I’ll have to get back to you about that.”

  The son of a bitch laughed. So did Quinn, but that was okay. He slid an arm around me and brushed a kiss along the hinge of my jaw.

  “And Quinton, when you have the itinerary for your book tour solidified, let us know,” Portia said. “Gregor and I will come along.”

  “Thank you. That means so much to me.”

  I gave him a poke. Of course Portia would support him like that. He rubbed his cheek against my shoulder.

  They spoke a bit more, and then Quinn said good night and hung up.

  “Now, suppose you call Wallace and let him know you won’t be in tomorrow, and I’ll call my uncles.”

  “Good idea.” I took out my cell phone and hit two on speed dial.

  “Yes, Mark?”

  “Sorry to disturb you, Trevor. I just wanted to let you know Quinton Mann has agreed to marry me.”

  I waited to hear how he would respond to that. I knew he’d always been fond of Portia, and when we’d been in Paris, he’d seemed accepting of my relationship with Quinn, but marriage… that was something else.

  “Congratulations. You’re marrying into a good family.”

  I was. “Thank you. Anyway, I’m calling to let you know I won’t be in tomorrow. We’re going to see Portia.”

  “In that case, I’d better make sure I’m here.” We’d decided a year ago that if one or the other of us wasn’t at the WBIS, the place was likely to fall to pieces. “Have you set a date?”

  “We’re considering September 30. We’ll exchange vows in Fall River.”

  “Massachusetts? Of course, they’ve legalized same-sex marriage. Good thinking, but then I’d expect nothing less from you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Are you planning on taking time off for a honeymoon?”

  Honeymoon? “We haven’t talked about it yet.”

  “Give it some thought. You’ll make HR deliriously happy.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Keep me in the loop, all right?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

  “Mark, I want you to bring Mann with you. I want to meet him.”

  “Uh… you’ve already met him.”

  “Not as my Director of Interior Affairs’ fiancé, I haven’t.”

  I had to bite back a smile. “No, sir.”

  “And you’ll bring him in on Thursday?”

  “I will, Trevor.”

  “Excellent.”

  We said goodbye and hung up. “How did your uncles take the news?” I knew they’d had second thoughts about me when we’d met that first Christmas in 2002, but I hoped the time we’d spent after Alyona had passed away had warmed them. Not that I cared what they thought about me, but it would bother Quinn if we couldn’t get along.

  “They’re surprised, but if I’m happy, they’re happy.”

  “All right. The Boss wants me to bring you in to the WBIS on Thursday.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “Good. Now…”

  Quinn’s grin was broad. “Yes, now.” He flipped the light switch and dragged me off to bed.

  Chapter 7: September 1, 2004

  “MMM.” I WOKE UP to Quinn threading his fingers through my hair. I started to reach for him, but then I realized he was sitting up, with his laptop propped on his lap. “If you’re writing, I could think of something more interesting to do.”

  “Not writing.”

  “Researching?”

  “No.” He smiled and turned the laptop so I could see the screen. He had accessed the website for Mount Olympus, one of the most exclusive jewelers in DC.

  I angled up on my elbow and peered at the image of row after row of wedding bands. “Quinn?”

  “I’d like to wear your ring, and I’d like you to wear mine.” He said it casually, as if he’d never doubted we’d do this.

  I took a few deep breaths. My old lady hadn’t worn a ring for as long as I could remember, and I’d never considered the possibility of a ring or someone who’d want me to wear it. “Okay.”

  “What do you think of these two?” He pointed them out. One of the rings was fourteen karat rose gold with a thin white gold border, while the other was black gold with diamonds.

  “I have to admit I like the two-tone one.” It was less likely to get caught on anything, not that it mattered much, since neither of us were in the field any longer.

  “I was leaning toward that one myself. We don’t need to be at Mother’s until noon, so what do you say we go to Mount Olympus after breakfast?”

  I’d seen the shop, which was a few doors down from Beau Brummel’s, but I’d never had a reason to go in. It was high-end, to say the least, and there’d been no one I’d wanted to spend that kind of money on. Well, until Quinn.

  And he wanted us to wear wedding bands.

  “Mark?”

  “You bet. Do you know what time it opens?”

  “The website says ten.”

  “Okay. We’ll have plenty of time.”

  “I’ll make breakfast.” He smiled again, shut down the laptop, and slid it onto the nightstand on his side of the bed.

  “Not just yet.” Before he could get up, I caught his arm and tugged him back to me. His eyes were bright, and I kissed him before I worked my way down his body and blew him.

  ~*~

  “Y’KNOW, I’M NOT SURE how I feel about this,” I told Quinn as we left Mount Olympus later in the morning. We’d bought each other’s rings, and he carried a miniature royal blue shopping bag with the Mount Olympus logo on it, containing two jewelers’ boxes.

  “About exchanging rings?” Quinn asked the question in cool tones.

  “Ass. About having a finger that’s so average my ring doesn’t have to be sized.”

  “Well, neither does mine, if it comes to that.” He bumped his shoulder against mine. “So cheer up.”

  “Yeah, but still…”

  “Mark.”

  “Okay, fine. Just get in the car and drive.” He’d decided we should take his car.

  He chuckled, waited for me to buckle up, then put the car in gear, and we headed for Great Falls.

  ~*~

  PORTIA GREETED US at the door when we arrived at the elegant Tudor. “Congratulations to the two of you,” she said, hugging first Quinn and then me. “And welcome to the family, Mark. Jefferson and Ludovic are in the dining room.” She linked her arms with ours and led the way down the hall.

  “I spoke to Uncle Tony last night,” Quinn said. “He said he and Bryan couldn’t fly out today, but they’ll be in Fall River on the thirtieth.”

  We entered the dining room, and Sebring and Rivenhall approached u
s. “Congratulations.” They held out their hands, and we shook them.

  “Thank you.”

  “Yeah. Uh… congratulations,” Novotny said. He embraced Quinn and whispered something in his ear. Probably telling him not to worry, Quinn could always divorce me. Then he took my hand and pulled me close to him. “Quinn wants you.” He kept his voice low, so only I could hear him. “He’s a big boy, and I’m not going to question his judgment.”

  I leaned back and stared into his eyes. He had to have seen my disbelief, because he curled his lip, but he yanked me close again and continued whispering.

  “If you hurt him, in any way, I swear to God I’ll make mincemeat out of your sorry carcass.”

  “Gregor?” Portia sounded concerned.

  “Just welcoming Vincent to the family.”

  And oddly enough, he was.

  “Do we have an understanding?”

  “Yeah.” Not that I was worried. I had no intention of hurting Quinn, and I’d make mincemeat of anyone who did.

  “All right,” Novotny said. “Let’s eat before lunch grows cold.”

  There was a bowl of salad on the table, as well as platters piled high with sliders. “What’ve you got?” I asked as I sat beside Quinn.

  “Three kinds of sliders—meatball marinara, taco, and black-and-blue Buffalo chicken. Accompanied by the salad, fries, and iced tea. And for dessert, we’ll have blueberry whip on pound cake.”

  I rubbed my hands together. They all sounded great. “Okay, Quinn, what’s your pleasure?”

  ~*~

  AFTER LUNCH, QUINN showed Portia our rings.

  “Lovely,” she said, and she caressed the ring she wore. She hadn’t taken it off since Nigel Mann put it on her finger.

  “Thank you, Mother.” Quinn put the rings back in their boxes, then gave her the piece of paper that listed everyone we wanted to join us in Fall River. “We’re keeping the actual ceremony small.”

  She glanced over it. “I hope Allison will be able to make it.”

  “Is something wrong?” Quinn asked. Allison Dashwood was a good woman who loved Quinn as if he were her own, and I knew he’d be disappointed if she couldn’t make it.

  “Ian’s wife is expecting their first child around the end of the month.” Portia looked amused. “She might deny it, but I had the impression he was her favorite. He always was quite a scamp.”

  “I remember my eleventh birthday.” Quinn turned to grin at me. “You wouldn’t believe the mess we made when he decided to pop popcorn in the fireplace without using a pan. It took Alyona forever to get the kernels out of the rug.”

  “Mother always called Ian a hellion.” Portia’s eyes glinted with amusement.

  “I wish I could have been there at the time, but I was at sea.” Novotny had been a lieutenant JG, although by the time he left the navy he was a lieutenant commander. Just then he was grinning himself. “But I remember Alyona mentioning that incident.”

  “Well, if Aunt Allison can’t make the ceremony, I hope she’ll be able to come to the reception,” Quinn said. “We thought we’d have it at Raphael’s when we returned from our honeymoon.” He handed Portia the second list, and she looked it over.

  “You are going on a honeymoon?” Novotny asked.

  “We are. We haven’t discussed it yet, but—”

  “We’ll go wherever Quinn decides.”

  Quinn reached out, caught my hand, and squeezed it. “Your island?”

  “Sure.” And I had every intention of spending our entire time there stark staring naked.

  ~*~

  ALLISON DASHWOOD WAS A nice woman—well, that stood to reason if Portia considered her a good friend—and Quinn wanted me to meet her before the wedding. A couple of weeks later, he arranged for us all to have lunch at Café Montpelier in the Madison Arms.

  We were waiting for her, because it wouldn’t have been polite for us to make her wait, and we rose as she approached our table.

  “Aunt Allison, this is Mark Vincent, my fiancé.”

  “How do you do, Mark? It’s nice to meet you.” She offered me her hand.

  “Same here, ma’am.”

  Quinn bit back a laugh. He probably remembered all the times I’d called Portia “ma’am.”

  “Call me Allison,” she said as she sat down. “I expect you to treat my godson well.”

  “I promise you I will, Allison.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I understand you may not be able to join us for the ceremony, Aunt Allison, but we hope you can.”

  “I’d love to, but babies can be so unpredictable.” And it made sense she’d want to be there for the birth.

  “The reception at Raphael’s will be on October 10. You’ll be there for that, won’t you?”

  “Yes, indeed.” She smiled and looked down to smooth her napkin over her lap.

  I caught Quinn’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. He shook his head slightly. Our entrees arrived before I could question her about that, and then Mrs. Dashwood began talking about the first time she’d met Portia at a Tea at Wellesley, the college they’d both attended. Quinn might have heard the story before, but I hadn’t. It was intriguing and fascinating, and I decided to let the reason behind her smile go.

  ~*~

  LUNCH WAS ENJOYABLE, and I hoped we’d see her at our wedding.

  As for our honeymoon… well, best laid plans. A bad storm cropped up in the Atlantic, and we had to cancel plans to honeymoon on the island.

  I wasn’t going to let a little fucking rain stop us, though. We sat down and made other plans.

  Chapter 8: September 30, 2004

  BECAUSE THE OFFICE-LIKE room in the Fall River City Hall was so compact, we’d limited the number of people to ten, including me and Quinn.

  As luck would have it, Quinn’s godmother was unable to be there. Her daughter-in-law had gone into labor the night before. By the time we’d left for Fall River, she still hadn’t given birth—I’d been told first babies could be like that—so Allison had called to tender her regrets.

  Only two of my family showed up. Steve and Lilly arrived at City Hall shortly before Quinn and I were to stand before the city clerk.

  “Sorry, Mark,” Steve said. “We had a hard time finding a parking spot.”

  “Not a problem. This is my Uncle Steve and his wife, Lilly,” I told Quinn.

  “How do you do?” He smiled. “You’re here, and that’s what’s important to Mark.” He extended his hand. “I’m Quinton Mann, the other groom.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Steve shook his hand. “We… uh… knew the rest of the family wouldn’t fit in this room—there’s quite a few of us, you know.” A dull flush colored his cheeks. “By the way, they send their best, Mark.”

  His flush deepened when the look I gave him let him know I wasn’t buying it. I hadn’t seen his sons and their families since my old lady’s funeral, but it had been obvious at that time there was no love lost.

  “This is my family.” Quinn, always the gentleman, stepped in and introduced them, and while his tone was cordial, his gaze was anything but. “None of your sons will be joining us for luncheon?”

  Ah. He was unhappy that my side of the family was only being represented by my uncle and his wife. We’d have tried to work around it, but when I’d called to let them know the date and time of the ceremony and that it was formal, Steve had said none of my cousins would be there. I’d told him we’d be having lunch afterward at the Borden Inn, and we’d see them then.

  Now Steve said, “No. I’m afraid having it on a Thursday made it difficult for them. Work and school, you know.”

  The last thing I wanted to do on the day I married Quinn was cause a scene and embarrass him, so I just nodded. “Take plenty of pictures, and it will be just like they’re here.”

  “Gentlemen?” The clerk gestured for us to come stand before him. I shoved my relatives out of my mind and took Quinn’s hand.

  “This is it,” he murmured.

  “Yeah
, it is.”

  We’d already given the clerk our rings. I straightened my shoulders, drew in a deep breath, and prepared to get married.

  ~*~

  THE CEREMONY WASN’T long, and soon Quinn put the ring on the tip of my ring finger, looked from it into my eyes, and began to speak. “With this ring, I give you my promise that from this day forward, you’ll never walk alone.”

  I had to swallow at those words. I’d never thought being alone was a big deal. Then I’d met Quinn.

  “My heart will be your shelter and my arms your home.”

  I started to choke up. He hadn’t told me what he was going to say, and I’d thought it was going to be the traditional I, Quinn, take you, Mark… I should have known better.

  “I hope you feel deeply loved, for you are. I have no greater gift to offer you than my heart, and I give it to you freely. I promise I shall always do my best. I feel honored to be your husband, and I… I’m happy to call you mine.” He continued to look deep into my eyes, and although his had become suspiciously bright, he finished with a faint smile. “I plan to call you mine forever.” He slid the ring all the way onto my finger, brought it to his mouth, and pressed a soft kiss to it.

  I tightened my grip on the ring I was about to put on his finger, gazed across the short space that separated us, and took his left hand. “I’ll keep this short. As I said when I asked you to marry me, it’s not only marrying the right partner, it’s being the right partner. I’m doing the former, and I’ll do my da— my best to be the latter.” I slid the wedding band onto his finger. “Forever.”

  Quinn’s lips were parted. The tip of his tongue peeked out to moisten them, and my heart felt… okay, there was no getting around it. My heart felt like it was turning over in my chest.

  So this was what it was like to be married.

  “You may now kiss the… uh… groom.”

  There was a smattering of applause as we leaned toward each other. The kiss was brief and chaste, not usual for us, but then we’d never been much for public displays.

  With our hands still entwined, we turned to face the people who’d joined us for this occasion.

  Yeah, this was what it was like to be married.