Page 1 of Love Spell

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“How do you know the grooms?”

Had Timo missed the Londoners Shalt Get Eyebrow Piercings memo?Not that a mere memo could’ve made him mess with his features.They didn’t need further embellishments.

He gave the questioner a once-over before deciding on his answer.Screamingly colourful fabrics, gemstone rings, female: uninteresting.

Timo said, “I almost married one of them.”

The triple row of eyebrow rings jumped, but Timo was already turning away, just as confident in his ability to murder a conversation as to spawn one.Time was short with the ceremony over and this garden party reception underway.He had to mingle while he still could, find out which men had arrived alone, which didn’t want to leave alone, which ones weren’t all hung up on heterosexuality, and he could tick off another social event.

Oh, and congratulate the newly married couple.Yeah, better do that now.

Shit, that guy in the black on black on black was striking.He must be part of the group of oddities circulating around the other groom.Unless Rhys had very much changed his own circles.Perhaps it had been the near-death experience that gave Rhys a new lease on friends, or purely his lover’s influence that meant astrology had apparently played a hand in choosing the first of September wedding date.The garden party reception also gave nods towards nature and Norse gods in the flower arbours, relaxed dress code, and cake adorned in runes and sigils.

It all felt too Dungeons & Dragons, a bit juvenile to dwell on fantasy on your wedding day, but to each their own.Timo also prided himself on his ability to get along with anyone when he tried.

Speaking of fantasy and trying — he’d circle back to the man in black with those elfin cheekbones once he’d paid his respects.That guy was in fact gazing at the newlyweds and perhaps about to move in the same direction.If he walked up when Timo was already in line, Timo might get an introduction while also coming in first place.

Timo moved deftly with the flow of guests including friends, family, and coworkers, not a huge crowd, but a good fifty or sixty strong, and found himself before the grooms in short order.

“Congratulations.”Timo was well aware of how beautiful his own smile was.It hadn’t been cheap.Add the jawline that was fate’s high card and the warmth in his eyes that could reassure a mother bear into letting him rock her cub to sleep.“Rhys, Lars, that was the most beautiful vows ceremony I’ve ever attended.Thank you so much for having me here.”He shook hands with both, noting the slightly bemused smile from Rhys, while Lars was the one totally at ease with his presence.

“Of course,” Lars said.“We’re glad to have you.You’re more than welcome to join us after this.Just a few friends and family going back home for drinks.”

It was as if the big guy, well named as he looked like a Viking with his ponytail and torc even in the tux, hadn’t the faintest idea that the man now shaking his hand had once nearly married the man Lars had just married.If Timo was Charm with a capital C, Lars was SINCERITY with a capital everything.All well and good, but didn’t he get boring?If he couldn’t even get jealous over the ex-partner at his wedding, did he ever get worked up about anything?What did he do in bed?Purr at you?

“Thanks for being here, Tim,” Rhys said, polite, but with only a passing glance for Timo, the newlyweds all wrapped up in looking at one another.“How are you doing?I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Which is perfectly normal for your ex.God, was Rhys going as woo-woo as this lot with crystals around their necks and pride bracelets — probably made from vegan leather?

“Never been better,” Timo said.“Market’s solid, work always go-go-go, and I trounced that last marathon — run times are better than they’ve ever been.So much for turning forty, eh?”

Rhys’ eyes widened.“Did I miss a year or two?”

At the same time, Lars said, “You’re never forty.”

Timo grinned at him.“No.Just looming.But it’s never too early to start looking twenty-nine, right?”

The man in black had not approached.Instead, it was some old aunt or mum, grey-haired, dressed like Dame Judi Dench, pouncing on Rhys for a hug.Yes, an aunt.Timo remembered her.He’d never really met loads of family on the Turner side.

Since the man in black hadn’t moved — still seemed to be watching them, no, watchingLars— Timo hurried on to excuse himself with final best wishes for their future happiness.

There, wedding check and check.Next agenda?Date night.

He’d read somewhere that multitasking was a myth.That no one could do more than one thing at once because the brain didn’t work that way.Fine.Then he did one thing at a time.That didn’t mean he couldn’t fit twelve individual things into every sixty seconds.

Another hugger tackled the man in black.If hugging was from another memo, he was glad he’d missed that one, too.

Dame Judi needed to give this … person fashion advice.And what was up with the partly shaved head thing on women?Not that she necessarily looked like someone who identified as a woman or a she, but going with a quick once-over and the lack of pronoun badge, he was left with little choice.

“Happy blue moon,” she told the man in black.

Timo missed whatever they said next, weaving through the crowd and half a dozen conversations.

The man’s scowl faded as he faced her, making Timo realise for the first time that he’d been scowling.Was it his imagination or did that guy also have to tear his eyes away from Lars?So, he had a thing for one of the grooms?Had Timo found jealousy or resentment, or at least wistfulness after all?

Funny, he didn’t look the sort to want to be purred at.But Rhys had fallen for the Viking, and Rhys had also fallen for Timo once, so Rhys obviously had good taste.

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