Marcus Taggert sat back, somewhat defeated. Jasper Jacks and Dara Jensen certainly looked like a newly married couple. Jax had won her heart and hand, leaving Marcus with nothing more than a Cuban cigar, an uncomfortable tuxedo and memories of happier times with Dara. Seeing Jax twirl his new bride around the dance floor, Taggert gruffly admitted to himself how happy she looked.
"I hate weddings." Skye Chandler-Quartermaine thumped miserably into the seat next to Marcus's. "Ms. CQ," Marcus acknowledged the beautiful woman who now scowled in her seat. "I don't get it, what does she have that I don't?" Marcus took a puff of the cigar before answering. "His heart."
"Shut up Taggert," she pouted back. Marcus smiled in spite of her demeanor. Skye turned and regarded the handsome Detective for a moment. "Taggert. That's not your first name is it?" Marcus shook his head. "It's Marcus." Skye tilted her head thoughtfully. "You look like a Marcus," she said, now taking the time to gaze at the fine specimen decked out in his tuxedo. "Most people call me Taggert," he shrugged. "Not me," she replied softly. "I'll call you Marcus, if you don't mind." Marcus turned and for a moment, forgot the wedding and losing Dara. "I don't mind. In fact, it's a welcome change."