Lacey opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t. Nerves were short-circuiting her vocal chords.
“What’s wrong, Lacey?” Bess struggled to sit up.
“Stay laying down, Bess, I’m fine. Just nervous.”
“Just follow Mick’s lead with everything. You’re not there to impress anyone.”
“But I want to,” Lacey confessed.
Maeve shook her head at her friend’s worried expression. “You need a distraction. Jewelry,” she concluded. “It’s time to accessorize.”
“Oh, I don’t have anything that would look right with this dress.”
Maeve searched through three jewelry boxes that sat on her dresser. “Here they are,” she announced triumphantly, handing Lacey a set of earrings and then continuing to forage through her collection.
Lacey gasped. Each earring boasted diamonds encircling an emerald with white gold detailing. “These are gorgeous. I can’t borrow them.”
“Why not? They were Gram’s. She’d love to know her earrings were seeing some action.”
“I’d be too worried I’d lose them.”
Maeve rolled her eyes. “That’s why I have them insured.” She pulled a matching necklace from a velvet pouch and draped it around Lacey’s neck.
Lacey’s breath caught at the sight. “Oh, thank you.”
“Gram got them for her twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They were from Grandpa, of course. But Gram picked them out herself. She said it was about time he bought her something to remind her of Ireland, since he stole her from her homeland.” Maeve’s smile was rich with memories.
“She had amazing taste,” Bess said, admiring the jewels as they glistened against Lacey’s pale skin, “like her granddaughter.”
“Just wish I had inherited her good taste in men,” Maeve responded with a smirk.
***
The evening began in a giddy haze, more like a dream than reality. Lacey stood awkwardly next to Mick in a traditional receiving line waiting to shake the hands of people with more medals on their chests than even her date. Her ankles wobbled in the heels beneath her full-length gown. She stole another glance of Mick as she steadied herself on his arm. Wrong move, she realized when the sight of him nearly knocked her breathless… again.
Covered in medals and ribbons, and seeming even taller than his six-foot-three, he was a mouthwatering morsel of patriotic decadence.
Her smile brightened, and she looked away, blushing.
He noticed. “What is it?”
“Your uniform,” she confessed. “I thought I had gotten immune to them, but now you pull out this one. It’s not the formal one you wore to the fundraiser.”
Mick laughed. “Yeah, we Navy guys have a lot of variations. This one is called Mess Dress. Or Dinner Dress Blue, though no one ever says that. The one you saw before was the Service Dress Blue uniform which is a step down from this one. We call them SDBs. I prefer that one—I can wear it with a straight tie and I don’t feel like a valet.”
“Everything is so confusing in the military. I’m surprised you don’t have some kind of handbook that tells what to wear and say and do.”
Mick grinned. “Actually, we do.”
“Maybe I should borrow it for the night.”
Taking her hand, Mick kissed her palm gently. “Honey, you’re a civilian. All you have to do is enjoy yourself. Leave the saluting to me.”
When they finally entered the hotel ballroom, the sweeping hall glimmered with candlelight reflecting on champagne flutes. Shaking hands and making introductions as they wove through the maze of white-clothed tables, Mick guided her to their seats where his name and rank were written in flowing calligraphy on a nameplate.
Everyone stood at attention as the flags were marched in perfect formation into the ballroom. A mezzo-soprano beautifully sang the national anthem followed by Anchor’s Away and the Marine Corps Hymn. After rousing applause, a silence fell over the ballroom as the invocation was said, which nearly brought Lacey to tears with its eloquent remembrance of the military men and women who were risking their lives at that very moment.
Patriotism was more than a word here, she realized. She got chills at the thought, and hoped that Mick didn’t notice the goose bumps on her bare arms.
Brief speeches, toasts, and a random array of traditions ensued which Mick did his best to explain quietly to Lacey. She wondered if she looked as overwhelmed as she felt.
Mick took her hand as salads were brought out to them. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Yes.” She leaned in closer to him. “Just feeling out of my league, is all.”
Mick smiled and gave her a good once-over. “Beautiful, in that dress, you are in a league of your own. I’m lucky I’m the one who gets to take you home.”