Книга церемоний. Шаманская мудрость для пробуждения сакрального в повседневности. Сандра Ингерман

Taylor gave a delicate shudder.

      She’d rather wear a three-piece suit and give lectures to businessmen on the merits of climbing the corporate ladder through backstabbing, undercutting and sexual favors. Or maybe be staked to an anthill naked while covered in hot fudge.

      The only celebrating she wanted that included champagne and rose-petal-strewn sex would come—no pun intended—when she found a guy who could keep it up long enough to worship her until she melted. And who needed forever for that? All she needed was one good night.

      Or maybe a weekend.

      “What’d you think of the wedding, dear?”

      Even though she was pretty sure Mrs. O’Brian couldn’t see the naked all-night-sex images playing out in her imagination, Sage still winced.

      “It’s lovely,” Sage said, leaning down so the elderly woman could brush a parchment-dry kiss over her cheek. Not a lie. She’d never lie, especially not to the woman who’d taught her to read. But lovely was one of those nice, safe statements that could cover so many things.

      Like the weather, with its bright sunshine and cool breeze. Just right for a springtime wedding in a winery.

      Or the bride, one of Sage’s oldest and dearest friends, who looked so happy she glowed almost as bright as the sunshine.

      Or the wine, Sage noted, taking a sip from the glass a passing waiter handed her.

      “You made a lovely bridesmaid,” Mrs. O’Brian noted, holding her own wineglass up to peer at it with a connoisseur’s eye. “I’m sure your father was thrilled to see you at the altar. Any chance you’ll be there again soon? Perhaps wearing white?”

      “Me? White?” Sage wet her lips, nerves dancing in her stomach. The soft green satin of her bridesmaid dress was as close to wedding accoutrement as she wanted to get. And pretty much as close to wearing white as she warranted. But that wasn’t the kind of thing you told a seventy-year-old woman at her niece’s wedding. “Um, well...”

      “Sage? AnaMaria wants more pictures,” Nina Wagner said, tucking her arm through Sage’s. The other bridesmaid looked the part much better than Sage ever could. Of course, with her sleek black hair and model looks, Nina was at home in the strapless satin sheath in a way that Sage, with her dreadlocks and multiple piercings, could never appear.

      “Ahh, pictures,” Mrs. O’Brian said with a wave of her hand. “Go, go. Smile pretty, girls.”

      Sage went, went, as fast as she could move in the foot-pinching stilettos.

      “You looked scared,” Nina said, laughing as she pulled Sage across the room toward the buffet.

      “She thinks I should be getting married,” Sage said, shivering at the thought.

      “That is scary.” Her arm still tucked tight through her best friend’s, Nina laughed even as she scanned the crowd, scoping out the possibilities. Probably looking for a groom of her own.

      At her friend’s low hum of appreciation, Sage followed her gaze across the room.

      As usual, Nina had scoped out the best-looking guy in attendance.

      Chief Petty Officer Aiden Masters. Otherwise known as the geeky guy Sage had grown up with.

      A protégé of her father’s, Aiden was chronologically three years Sage’s senior, and mentally thirty years older. But growing up he’d been a social infant compared to her natural ease with people. So while her father had nurtured his mind, she’d figured it her job to keep him from becoming a stodgy old man before he was seventeen. Clearly, from his ease at moving through the crowd, she’d done her job well.

      It wasn’t just that he was one of the tallest guys there. Or that the contrast of his short black hair and hazel eyes stood out against the vivid white of his military uniform. It was that Aiden Masters was hot.

      Under that uniform was a body that sent women into fantasy mode. Fantasies that, for some bizarre reason, most of them seemed to want to share with Sage. Worse, though, was when one of them managed to make their Aiden fantasy into reality. They liked to share that, too.

      Sage was all for reaping the kudos on a job well done, but hearing about Aiden and other women tended to make her teeth hurt.

      And the idea of Aiden and Nina?

      Um, no.

      No way.

      Their energies wouldn’t match, nor did their personalities. For all her matrimonial goals, Nina was the eat-’em-up-and-toss-them-aside type. And Aiden, well, he might be a navy SEAL, but he still needed protection from some things.

      “Aren’t we supposed to be joining AnaMaria for pictures?” Sage asked, turning her head toward the bride and groom who were posing under a grapevine arbor across the lawn.

      “I just said that to rescue you. Have you already forgotten the cheesy chorus of photos that were taken before the ceremony?”

      “How could I?” Happy to have distracted her friend, Sage made a show of grimacing and patting her cheeks to see if they’d recovered from all that smiling yet. She glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. O’Brian. The elderly woman was now in deep conversation with a group of people, giving their wine the same assessing looks, definitely not checking to see if Sage was really getting pictures taken. Still, Sage hated lying. Even little lies, since they were like snowflakes. Put enough of them together and they snowballed. And usually hit you splat in the face when you were least prepared.

      As if hearing her thoughts, Nina rolled her eyes, pulled her cell phone out of the tiny purple purse hanging from her shoulder and wrapped her arm around Sage’s waist. Heads together, they smiled pretty and Nina snapped the shot.

      “There. You had your picture taken. Now can we get on to the good stuff?”

      And this, Sage realized, was what she’d missed about being home. Three months hiking through Tibet was awesome. She’d worked with a charitable organization focused on bringing health care to the women there and had been so touched, she’d written daily blog posts on her website, Sage Advice, that she’d later sold as a series of articles to three magazines to pay for her trip home.

      But as great as that’d been, nothing could beat good friends who knew you inside out and had a history that went back to kindergarten.

      “What’s the good stuff?” Sage asked, still smiling as she inspected the buffet. As to be expected for a Northern California winery wedding, the tables were heavy with appetizers of local produce, cheeses and gourmet delicacies.

      “Your love life, of course,” Cailley Heath, the third bridesmaid said as she joined them, choosing a juicy red strawberry off the fruit bouquet shaped like a heart. “I want to hear all about sex in Tibet.”

      “Shhh,” Nina hushed. When both Sage and Cailley gave her confused looks, she tilted her head toward the nearby table where two men were sitting, their heads together in serious discussion. Ahh, Aiden had found his other half.

      He and Sage’s father tended to become inseparable whenever Sailor Boy was on leave. Discussing the latest theory in quantum physics or evidence of an ancient tribe that’d been discovered in a far-off jungle, no doubt.

      Sage snickered, then teasingly shook her head at Nina.

      She could have danced naked with every man in the room right there on their table, and they wouldn’t have noticed.

      “What?” she teased. “You think my father has no idea I have sex?”

      Not that it was a topic of regular discussion. Typical of the Professor, when it was time for the birds-and-bees talk, her widowed father had a local nurse chat with Sage, filling her in on all of the pertinent details.

      After which her friends had filled her in on the juicy ones.

      “Your dad might know you have sex,” Cailley teased. “But does Aiden?”