From Passion To Pregnancy. Tina Beckett

of contact and allowed herself a tiny forbidden thrill. He’d never know.

      “Something stronger? At a wedding?”

      “Especially at a wedding.” The wry humor behind those words came through loud and clear.

      “Drink enough of that stuff and it will probably have the same effect.”

      “So would cough syrup.”

      This time she laughed. “Okay, so champagne really isn’t your thing. If you want something fast and to the point, you can always head to the Casa de Cachaça afterwards. I can show you where it’s at.”

      Why had she said that? Maybe because he was so obviously unhappy about someone in attendance. And his “especially at a wedding” comment resonated with her.

      Boy, did it ever.

      At least her ex hadn’t shown up tonight.

      She scanned the guests again. Maybe Sebastian had an ex who had. Could that have been what he and Natália had been discussing a few minutes ago?

      “Cachaça sounds like a good choice.” Sebastian set his fancy flute beside the plate. “In that case, I’d better hold off on those so I can drive us there.”

      Us? An even bigger and more forbidden thrill cut through her belly. Well, she had just offered to show him where it was. He must have taken that to mean that she would be drinking with him.

      If she was going to correct him, now was the time. Instead, she set her own glass down next to his.

      Didn’t she deserve to drown her sorrows? She had always been about playing the good girl, and look where that had gotten her: abandoned and forgotten. Couldn’t she, for one night, do something daring? Something a little out of character?

      She didn’t have to work in the morning. And if she was honest, having a man like Sebastian take an interest in her was highly flattering.

      Not that he had. Not really.

      The sound of spoons clinking against glasses began to filter up to their table, growing in volume until it almost drowned out the music. Right on cue, Natália and Adam turned to each other and kissed. Murmured to each other.

      She glanced at Sebastian. Not even a hint at a smile. Wow, something really was wrong.

      Just then an older gentleman at one of the center tables stood and lifted his glass high, sweeping it from side to side as if trying to gain everyone’s attention. The music stuttered, then faded to nothing.

      The guest gave a toothy grin, staring up at them. “I’d like choo propose a toast. To my darrrrling girl and her new husband.”

      The voice slurred its way through the words, and the woman next to him tugged on his sleeve, urging him to sit down. Sebastian’s hands curled into fists on the table, and he turned to Adam and Natália. Her friend seemed frozen in time.

      “Do you want me to ask him to leave?”

      Adam nodded at him, but Natália laid a hand on his arm. “No. It’s okay. Mom will get him back under control. If she can’t…”

      The groom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Just say the word, and I’ll take care of it.” He then glanced at Sebastian. “Can you propose your toast now, to get everyone pointed in the right direction? Then we’ll get the dancing started. Hopefully that will circumvent any more problems.”

      “Sure thing.” Picking up his own glass, he made a tall and imposing figure as he went to stand behind Adam and Natália’s chairs. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

      The whole barn went silent. He waited a second or two longer, and Sara was pretty sure he leveled a glare at the man who’d made the previous toast.

      “I’ve known these two people for a very long time.” A couple of chuckles came from the tables below. “And while in all those years I never dreamed this would happen, I’m happy for them. Genuinely happy.”

      His gaze softened, and he put a hand on Natália’s shoulder. Tears gathered in her eyes as she mouthed, “Thank you.”

      Sebastian continued. “And while I gave them a hard time of it for a while, I can’t think of two people more deserving of happiness. May you have many years of it.” He raised his glass. “To my sister and my best friend. Cheers.”

      Sara remembered to grab her champagne just in time to take a sip along with everyone else. Adam stood, and he and Sebastian embraced.

      Then the groom held out his hand to Natália. “Dance with me.”

      They made their way down to the floor where thick wooden planks had been fitted together to form a dance area. The music started back up, taking on a slower, more intimate tone that was perfect for the couple’s first journey around the room. Adam swept his new bride into his arms and smiled down at her.

      It was beautiful. They were beautiful.

      Her dad had made the right decision in having the wedding here, despite her earlier reservations. Sebastian sat back down, and only then did she realize he’d never lifted his glass to his mouth after giving his toast. Had he not meant what he’d said?

      Struggling to find something to say, she settled for, “Nice job.”

      He gave that wry smile that jerked at her tummy muscles. “Would you believe I wrote the words on my palm so I wouldn’t forget them?”

      “No.”

      She’d seen those hands, and there was nothing on them except a light, masculine dusting of hair. Neither had there been anything on them when his fingers had brushed her palm in a way that had shattered her composure.

      His smile widened. “Well, I probably should have. I think that concludes my duties as best man. I am more than ready for that cachaça. Do you want to stay for the rest of the reception?”

      She had a feeling his real motivation in wanting to leave was to avoid the toast maker from a few minutes ago. The same man he’d been trying to evade earlier? It had to be his father. Or stepfather, if she was reading the signs correctly.

      Did she want to stay? He was obviously giving her an out.

      She should take it and run.

      And do what? Sit here all by herself while the happy couple—and everyone else—celebrated all around her?

      No. She deserved a little bit of fun too, especially after all she had been through in the last several weeks.

      “I’m not really interested in staying. Besides, I need to show you where the place is, remember?”

      He studied her for a minute. “Are you sure? I probably won’t be in any condition to drive you home afterward.”

      “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl, and this is a very small town.”

      “Let me tell Adam I’m leaving, then. I’ll be back in a minute.”

      She had a feeling he wanted to make sure his friend could handle things with the older man, if they got out of hand.

      A minute later, he was back beside her chair. “Okay, he cut me loose.”

      They ducked out of the same entrance they’d come in at. By now, it was dark, the lights from the barn spilling out onto the ground. When they reached the parking area, he stopped in front of a sleek silver sports car.

      “Are you sure you want to ride with me?”

      There was something loaded about that question. The memory of his shoulder pressed tight against hers rolled through her mind, along with a warm, prickly sense of need.

      This was a man who could help her forget the ache of loss in a way that no amount of champagne or Brazil’s famed sugarcane alcohol, cachaça, ever could. If she dared to let him.

      And suddenly she realized that’s exactly what