Err on the Side of Violence: Terribly Acronymed Detective Club Series (Book 3)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Joe, Summer, 1992

When Joe cried at his wedding to Lauren, it wasn't because he was moved by the sight of her walking up the aisle. The tears had started before he'd even seen her.

He was a traditionalist at heart. He believed in not seeing the bride on the wedding day until he saw her entering the church from where he stood at the altar. That was where he was, Johnny at his side, when the organ music began, the congregation stood, and the maid of honour strode up the aisle.

He'd never seen her before. She was a tall woman, very tall, with flaming red hair and sculpted shoulders from which hung the lavender bridesmaid dress Lauren had chosen as her colour. The dress clung to her body, hinting at muscles underneath, in places he'd never considered women having muscles, and Joe couldn't take his eyes off her as she approached. Suddenly her eyes locked with his, and he felt very, very exposed, as if they were looking deep into his soul. A flush came to her cheeks, as if she herself had been caught looking, but she didn't look away. They kept their eyes on each other until she made the turn at the altar to get to her place at Lauren's side, and he realized when she was close enough that she was almost his height, which was astonishing.

He didn't make the mistake of turning his head to watch her backside; that wouldn't have looked good in front of the congregation of mostly Italian friends and family, most of whom were Catholic and very traditional about marriage. It took all of his willpower not to do it, because he was certain he would have enjoyed the sight of her long back, and that her ass would have been spectacular. 

He didn't know what had just happened. He suddenly felt as if his entire world had been turned upside down. He'd never even looked at another woman since he and Lauren had gotten together, and yet this stranger had just destroyed his confidence in the strength of his commitment to the woman who was about to become his wife.

This must have been Joanie Mara. Lauren had told him she'd asked a classmate of hers from the Justice Institute, the school she'd chosen for post-secondary, to be her maid of honour. Of course Lauren would have preferred Rachel if she'd been around to do the job, but Rachel seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth when she moved away, and Lauren had been rocked anew by her absence after he'd proposed to her and she'd suddenly had to think of her wedding, and who would stand with her at the altar. Joe had it easy. A brother was a ready best man. Lauren had no siblings. This was the only woman she knew who was on friendly terms with her, if not officially a friend, and Lauren had been lucky she'd said yes to being her maid of honour.

Lauren had never described Joanie to him. Up to now she'd been a nebulous figure, a placeholder, a necessary fixture for the day, here and gone when the night was over. Lauren had never brought her around to introduce her to him or to the family, and Joe thought it might have been a little inconsiderate of her to wait to show Joanie off until the big day, unfamiliar with anybody, forced to perform for all these strangers. She hadn't even been at the rehearsal and the dinner that had followed; apparently she'd been unable to come due to a prior commitment. 

Maybe it was fortunate that Joe only met Joanie today. Maybe, if he'd met Joanie before the wedding, he might have called the wedding off.

Was he being drastic? He didn't know her at all. She was just an incredibly beautiful woman who was the complete opposite to Lauren in height, frame, hair and complexion. For all he knew, he could get to talking to her and not have anything in common with her. He could find her boring, or annoying, or dull. What he lamented was that he would never get a chance to find out.

That was when the tears started. 

Luckily, a few seconds later, Lauren and her parents strode down the aisle, and when Lauren locked eyes with him she saw him crying and thought the tears were for her, and predictably she began to cry, her mother dabbing her cheeks with a kleenex.