JК
Incubus Dreams :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 6 из 605I realized thatthe orange that made most of the bridesmaids look wan, brought out rich highlights in her skin and hair, made her eyes shine. So few people look good in orange, it’s one of the reasons they use it in so many prisons, like an extra punishment. But Detective Arnet looked wonderful in it. It almost made me wish I’d let the wedding lady talk me into the extra makeup. Almost.
I must have stared, because she frowned, and only then did I start forward, and take our place in line. We filed out like good little wedding party members. We’d already endured the photographer for group shots. He’d be hunting the bride and groom for those candid moments: cutting the cake, throwing the bouquet, removing the garter. Once we got through the receiving line, I could fade into the background and no one would care.
We all stood in a line as we’d been drilled. Bride and groom at the front of the line, because, let’s face it, that’s who everyone is really here to see. The rest of us strung out behind them along the wall, waiting to shake hands with mostly strangers. Tammy’s family were locals, but I’d never met any of them. Larry’s family were all out-of-towners. I knew the policemen that had been invited; other than that, it was all nod and smile, nod and smile, shake a hand, or two, nod and smile.
I must have been concentrating very hard on the people I was meeting, because it surprised me when Micah Callahan, my official date, was suddenly in front of me. He was exactly my height. Short for man or woman. His rich, brown hair was nearly as curly as mine, and today his hair fell around his shoulders loose. He’d done that for me.
He didn’t like his hair loose, and I understood why. He was already delicate looking for a man, and with all that hair framing him, his face was almost as delicate a triangle as Detective Arnet’s. His lower lip was fuller than his upper lip, which gave him a perpetual pout, and being wider than most women’s mouths didn’t really help. But the body under his black tailored suit, that definitely helped make it clear he was a man. Wide shoulders, slender waist and hips, a swimmer’s body, though that wasn’t his sport. From the neck down you’d never mistake him for a girl. It was just the face, and the hair.
He’d left his shirt open at the neck so that it framed the hollow in his throat. I could see myself reflected darkly in his sunglasses.
It was actually a little dim in the hallway, so why the sunglasses?
His eyes were kitty-cat eyes, leopard, to be exact. They were yellow and green all at the same time.
I must have stared, because she frowned, and only then did I start forward, and take our place in line. We filed out like good little wedding party members. We’d already endured the photographer for group shots. He’d be hunting the bride and groom for those candid moments: cutting the cake, throwing the bouquet, removing the garter. Once we got through the receiving line, I could fade into the background and no one would care.
We all stood in a line as we’d been drilled. Bride and groom at the front of the line, because, let’s face it, that’s who everyone is really here to see. The rest of us strung out behind them along the wall, waiting to shake hands with mostly strangers. Tammy’s family were locals, but I’d never met any of them. Larry’s family were all out-of-towners. I knew the policemen that had been invited; other than that, it was all nod and smile, nod and smile, shake a hand, or two, nod and smile.
I must have been concentrating very hard on the people I was meeting, because it surprised me when Micah Callahan, my official date, was suddenly in front of me. He was exactly my height. Short for man or woman. His rich, brown hair was nearly as curly as mine, and today his hair fell around his shoulders loose. He’d done that for me.
He didn’t like his hair loose, and I understood why. He was already delicate looking for a man, and with all that hair framing him, his face was almost as delicate a triangle as Detective Arnet’s. His lower lip was fuller than his upper lip, which gave him a perpetual pout, and being wider than most women’s mouths didn’t really help. But the body under his black tailored suit, that definitely helped make it clear he was a man. Wide shoulders, slender waist and hips, a swimmer’s body, though that wasn’t his sport. From the neck down you’d never mistake him for a girl. It was just the face, and the hair.
He’d left his shirt open at the neck so that it framed the hollow in his throat. I could see myself reflected darkly in his sunglasses.
It was actually a little dim in the hallway, so why the sunglasses?
His eyes were kitty-cat eyes, leopard, to be exact. They were yellow and green all at the same time.