It was Fletcher who broke the peaceful idyll, rolling her gently onto her back, kissing her forehead, smiling into her eyes. ‘Tell me it’s not just our child keeping you with me, Tamalyn.’
‘Okay. You get to me, too,’ she conceded. Feeling much more confident now that they might make a good future together, she teasingly added, ‘I think I like the reward system.’
‘Ah…the challenging witch is back.’ He sounded pleased.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘Does that work for you?’
He laughed. ‘Let’s say it gets to me.’
‘Then we’re both in the same boat.’
‘I’ll try to make sharing it better.’
She smiled.
He kissed her.
And Tammy felt a lot better about everything.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Fifth Wedding
HANNAH arranged for a beautician to come and spray them all with fake tan so they would look right for the beach wedding. They painted their fingernails and toenails a perfect shell pink to match their dresses, which were strapless and draped in a sarong style. They would be barefoot for the ceremony on the sand but they had pink sandals to put on afterwards. Their bouquets were made of pink and cream frangipanis and they were wearing a circle of the same flowers in their hair. Tammy’s long locks had been swept to one side and softly rolled forward over one shoulder—Tahitian style, Hannah had declared.
Having another gang wedding was wonderfully exciting, though for Tammy the excitement had the additional delight of Fletcher’s willingly active involvement on the groom’s side. Over the past six months he’d loosened up quite a lot with her friends and found Grant especially companionable. Both men shared a deep appreciation of nature, had very athletic physiques, and enjoyed testing their strength and agility on difficult climbs and bush-walks. The sea was also very much their playground and the two couples had spent several weekends doing various activities together. It had pleased Tammy enormously when Grant had asked Fletcher to be one of his groomsmen and there had been no hesitation in his acceptance of the role.
To make everything perfect, it was a beautiful day—bright and sunny with a cloudless blue sky. Everyone was bubbling with high spirits as they were finally driven down to Terrigal Esplanade, the white limousines heralding the arrival of the bridal party. The resort town was abuzz with people, pavement cafés crowded with patrons, the picnic tables under the Norfolk Pines that lined the beachfront occupied by families, the beach itself a kaleidoscope of colour with sun umbrellas, bright towels, deckchairs and masses of people in their swimming gear.
Grant Summers’ wedding was a big event in this local community, drawing a horde of spectators. A long hessian mat had been rolled out from the front of the Surf Club, down the central ramp to the beach, along the sand to the huge, open-sided marquee which was shading the wedding guests, forming an aisle right to where the marriage celebrant and the groom and his attendants were waiting. Life-savers in their club colours were lined up on either side of it between the ramp and the marquee. ‘Here Comes the Bride’ blared out from the club’s loudspeakers, and the spectators broke into wild applause as Tammy led off the procession.
Which she’d also done at Celine’s wedding when Fletcher had been designated her partner—their very first meeting. Today he was the fifth groomsman again and Tammy had an eerie sense of déjà vu as she paced herself along the mat to the marquee, her gaze skating down the line of men waiting beside Grant.
The picture was different. The men were not wearing formal black suits. Their attire was smart/casual; white slacks, white jacket, open-necked pink shirt. But the impact of seeing Fletcher was the same, so commandingly handsome the others faded into insignificance, and her heart beat faster at the knowledge he was hers, not just for today, but her partner for a long, long time to come, given that John was barely a toddler.
Just as he had at their first sight of each other almost two years ago, he dazzled her with his smile.
Tammy smiled back.
Did he still see her as exotic—a black-haired witch who held him spellbound?
She hoped so, needing to feel forever wanted by him.
All five bridesmaids completed their line-up on the bride’s side. Hannah faced the celebrant with Grant. The ceremony began, the vows of a true marriage being solemnly recited. Tammy’s mind drifted to her own stark contract with Fletcher—terms agreed to because of their child.
John was ten months old now, once again being looked after by Fletcher’s parents today, along with Celine’s daughter, Samantha. The two grandchildren liked each other’s company though they were as different as chalk and cheese. Samantha was like a gorgeous little doll, very placid and easy to please. John was a very active livewire. He’d started picking up words at seven months, was walking at nine months, and he organised games around Samantha who sat in the middle of them, adoring his attention.
There was no doubt John was extremely forward for his age, and sometimes Tammy thought she saw a look of recognition pass between father and son as though they knew their minds shared the same patterns. But it was Mummy John wanted when he was upset about anything, so she didn’t feel cut out by their special bond. She suspected there would be difficult times ahead for their child, so it had definitely been the right decision to live with Fletcher, not only for John’s sake, but for her own as well.
They’d come a long way since Celine’s wedding. The connection between them had been there from the beginning, yet it had been frayed by so many conflicts, holding on to it had not been easy. Tammy felt more secure with it now. Probably not as secure as her friends felt with their husbands who openly loved them, but she knew there would never be any other man for her, so what she had with Fletcher was good enough.
Grant and Hannah were declared man and wife. The marriage certificate was signed. The photographer shepherded the bridal party down to the edge of the surf for some action shots, kicking through the dying waves, Grant twirling his bride over them. The men had to roll up their trouser legs so as not to get them wet and Tammy watched Fletcher do it, admiring the strong muscles of his calves. As he straightened up, he caught her gaze on him and grinned at her.
It was like a sledgehammer hitting her heart. He was still drop-dead gorgeous, still had the sexual magnetism that shot out an electric charge, sending a rush of tingles through her entire body. He walked over to where she stood with her friends, waiting to perform as Hannah’s bridesmaids for the photographer. He held out his hand to her, a sexy simmer in his brilliant dark eyes.