“I bet ya Jack pulls a prank today,” he says.
“On his wedding day?”
He laughs. “Any day, but especially one when you least expect it.”
“If I were the bride, I’d be pissed.”
“She’s just as bad. They’re constantly pranking each other.”
“Then I guess they’re well matched.”
“No one else could put up with him,” he says with a laugh.
As soon as we step into the front of the church, two groomsmen in black tuxes offer us a program. They’re his brothers—same dark brown hair and sky blue eyes—though I can’t remember which is which since the resemblance is so strong. Beast is easy to pick out with his huge muscles. And Dylan, the oldest, stands out just from the way he carries himself. The other three are a blur of dark brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and various amounts of scruff.
“Sean, you made it,” Brendan says, giving one of the ushers a bro hug and a slap on the back.
“Got in around midnight,” Sean says, smiling. His hair is cut short and he’s got just enough stubble to make a dark shadow on his jaw. “Couldn’t miss Jack’s big day. I’m heading back tomorrow. Unfortunately, Josie couldn’t get away, her schedule leaked into the weekend. Sometimes that’s the way it goes with union hours.”
Brendan introduces us, reminding his brothers of my connection to the family, and catches me up on them. “Josie’s his actress wife. She’s filming a movie.”
Connor—his dark brown hair long on top, scruff almost to beard territory—regards Brendan with a quizzical look. “Bride or groom?”
“Yes,” Brendan says, giving Connor’s arm a friendly smack.
Connor gestures around his head. “Chloe, didn’t you have red hair at the Christmas ball in Villroy?”
“Yes, just a temporary thing.”
Sean stares at me. “That’s right. Bren wanted to ask you to dance.” He lifts his brows. “Guess that worked out.”
“Oh, no, we’re just friends,” I say immediately.
“Yeah, friends,” Brendan echoes.
I catch him making a slashing motion across his throat to his brothers out of the corner of my eye.
Connor’s lips twitch. “Always nice to meet a friend of Brendan’s.” He hands me a program and gestures to the right. “Groom’s side is over there.”
Brendan guides me down the aisle, his hand resting on the small of my back, heating my skin through the thin fabric of my dress. Considering he invited me as a friend, he’s already touched me more today than he has in the past month. Except for that one scorching hot kiss the night we made tortellini. I like to pretend that was just a dream.
He guides me into the second row, where Dylan is already seated with his wife, holding their adorable baby girl. My heart squeezes. The baby is in a white bonnet with a light pink rosebud pattern and matching dress. I smile at her, and she beams back a smile, two little white baby teeth appearing on the bottom. Awww!
Brendan makes the introductions. It’s Dylan, Ariana, and baby Olivia. I’m enthralled with this happy baby. As soon as I sit down next to Ariana, Olivia reaches toward me and pats my cheek with her pudgy baby hand.
“Aren’t you a cutie?” I coo. “Do you like peekaboo?” I cover my face with a hand and peek between my fingers. She stares in concentration. I drop my hand and smile. “Peekaboo!” She squeals and bounces in her mom’s arms.
Ariana smiles at me, her dark brown eyes kind. “You’re a natural.”
“I know how to entertain a baby,” I say, covering my face again. “I have a baby nephew.” I pop out with my peekaboo, and Olivia giggles madly. “I love babies.”
Ariana leans forward. “Did ya hear that, Bren? Sounds promising.”
I stiffen and glance toward Brendan, who doesn’t look nearly as alarmed as I feel. Strange. I turn back to Ariana. “We’re just friends. Really good friends.”
“That’s nice,” she murmurs, exchanging a look with her husband sitting on her other side.
They don’t believe me. I turn to Brendan, and my hair is suddenly yanked painfully hard. Ow! I gasp and reach back to hold my hair in place. The baby’s got a hold of me.
“I’m so sorry,” Ariana says, working on getting the baby’s fingers free. “She’s fascinated with blond hair. Most of us are brunettes.” The baby yanks my hair up and down until her dad gets a hold of her arm while her mom works on loosening her fingers. Babies don’t know their own strength. “She does the same thing to Connor’s blonde fiancée.”
I catch Brendan fighting a laugh. I narrow my eyes, and he laughs out loud.
His parents—I remember them from Villroy—take the first row, sitting right in front of us. They’re probably in their late fifties and seem very close. Mrs. Rourke turns to smile at us and then frowns. “Olivia, we have got to get you a blond dolly, so you stop accosting blonde women. Let go, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay,” I say on a wince.
Finally, the baby’s grip is free. Mrs. Rourke holds out her arms for her granddaughter, and Ariana passes her over. Mrs. Rourke bounces her a little. “You look familiar,” she says to me with a smile, her blue eyes sparkling just like Brendan’s. “Have we met?”
“Villroy,” Mr. Rourke says. “I remember. Prince Adrian’s wife’s sister. How lovely to see you on this special occasion.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Nice to see you again.”
“This is Chloe Travers, future doctor,” Brendan says. “She moved into the apartment next door, and we’ve been hanging out ever since.”
“A doctor?” Mrs. Rourke asks with enthusiasm, her smile bright. “Wow. What kind?”
“My goal is to become a cancer researcher,” I say.
His parents stare at me with twin expressions of surprise.
“She’s a genius,” Brendan puts in. “She’s finishing undergrad at Columbia in only three years.”
My cheeks heat. “I’m not a genius.” Brendan’s always saying that. It takes more than smarts to do what I’ve done. It’s all about work ethic. I work my ass off during the school year. I’m learning to take time off when school’s out.
“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Rourke says. “What a noble cause.”
Mr. Rourke arches a brow. “So what do you see in this guy?” He ruffles Brendan’s hair, whose ears and neck turn bright red. “I kid because I love, Chloe. You’ll see.” He winks at me.
Brendan smooths his hair, scowling. His parents turn around as the groom and his ushers appear at the front of the church.
I lean close to whisper in Brendan’s ear, “I see where you get your teasing side from.”
“It’s a family trait,” he grumbles. “You can never escape it.”
“I get the feeling you dish out more than your fair share.”
He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze, his mouth tilting up on one side, revealing his dimple. He trimmed his beard, which makes his adorable dimple more noticeable. I wish I were immune to his charms. “You know me so well.”
And now we’re holding hands.
I stare straight ahead, flushed with heat over the simplest, most innocent of touches.
The ceremony is a blur, though I try hard to focus. I want to see if Jack or Riley pull a prank. All my senses are tuned into the man next to me, his large hand enveloping my smaller one in a warm firm grip. I’m both on edge and comforted by his touch. Is this what it’s like when your best friend morphs into a boyfriend? And who said he could do that? What about his Friday night women?
Jack lifts the bride’s veil and sets it back over her head. Tears stream down her cheeks. He frames her face with both hands for a timeless moment that brings a lump to my throat. I can’t see his face. Is he crying too? Why do people cry at weddings? It’s a happy occasion.
Brendan gives my hand a squeeze, and I find myself leaning against his side.
A few minutes later, they’re pronounced husband and wife. Everyone applauds and Brendan whistles loudly. The happy couple heads down the
aisle together. The bride’s dress has a long train, which she hooks over one arm as she walks, smiling at everyone, no tears in sight. That’s better.
Brendan guides me out into the aisle with the crowd slowly following the happy couple. He sticks close behind me, his heat at my back. Our personal boundary bubble seems to have disappeared. But it’s a family wedding. How much trouble could we get into here? It’s not like we’re going to hook up at the country club reception.
He whispers in my ear, and a hot shiver races down my spine. “I never thought Jack would get hitched. He never stuck with anyone before her. I mean never.”
I glance back over my shoulder at him. “Have you ever stuck?”
He grins down at me. “Nope.”
I face front. He’s definitely hooking up with multiple women on Friday nights. I swallow down bile. I can’t let myself think about that.
Everyone lines up on the path in front of the church to congratulate the bride and groom. After we congratulate them, Brendan pulls me toward the front of the line and says under his breath, “Didn’t I tell you there’d be a prank?”
“Now?” I ask, looking around.
Sean and Connor gesture us over by the corner of the church. People are gradually filtering back behind the building. Interesting.
Once we get there, Connor hands me an odd item. It looks like an inflatable brick. “We’re throwing this at them instead of bird seed.”
Sean nods. “Wait until they’re about to get in the limo for the ride to the reception. We’ll all throw on the best man’s cue. That’s Sam.” He points out a guy standing on the church steps.
We go back in place and wait. “How is this appropriate?” I ask Brendan, holding the brick behind my back. His family is really weird in a fun way. I like it.
“Tell ya later,” he says. “Act casual.”
“So this wasn’t the bride’s or groom’s idea?”
“It was Sam’s idea to prank the pranksters. He’s Riley’s brother and Jack’s best friend.”
I wait and watch. Brendan’s family keeps exchanging looks and smiles. The love is so obvious, like a living, breathing thing connecting them all. A stab of envy goes through me. He has no idea how lucky he is.
He elbows me with a grin. “Get ready.”
“Bride and groom, front and center,” Sam booms. “Get ready for your send-off!”
Jack and Riley go to the top of the steps and wave at all of us, smiling radiantly. Everyone gathers close near the front steps and in a line down the sidewalk.
“Here they are, Mr. and Mrs. Walsh-Rourke!” Sam announces, gesturing at them and nodding at us. The signal!
Riley laughs, and they head down the steps as we throw inflatable bricks at them. They both grab one as a souvenir. On one side, in silver block letters it says Walsh-Rourke. They hurry down the path to the limo as bricks bounce off them.
I turn to find Brendan laughing with his brothers and Sam, thrilled with their prank.
I catch his eye and he walks over to me, pulling me aside from the crowd. “You probably think we’re nuts pelting the bride and groom with bricks.”
“No-o-o.”
He arches his brows in a skeptical look. “Yeah.”
“Okay, yeah. What’s the deal?”
“Once upon a time, Jack and Riley almost weren’t. No, wait, first Jack gave her an engraved brick for her birthday when they were secretly married but no one knew. Long story short, it wasn’t a real marriage. Then, in a big romantic gesture, Riley had the engraving changed to Walsh-Rourke, letting Jack know she wanted to marry him for real, forever and ever, amen.”
I smile. “That’s cool.”
He kisses my temple. “I knew you’d get it.”
I cover my surprise at the unexpected kiss with a cheery smile. “Time for the reception.”
His hand rests on my lower back, guiding me through the parking lot to his rental car. “So, I’m just gonna let you know right now you don’t have to dance with me.”
“I know.”
“But I want you to.” He steps away, doing a waltz with an invisible partner as cars are zigzagging all over the lot to multiple exits.
Careful!
I run up to him and grab him by the shoulders. “You’re gonna get hit by a car, crazy man.”
He drops an arm over my shoulders and walks toward our car again. “Good thing I’ve got you.”
His arm around me feels so natural, as if we’re an actual couple. I allow myself to pretend we are. Just for today.
12
Brendan
Dinner’s over, and I’m sitting at our table, waiting for Chloe to get back from the ladies’ room. The country club is fancy with white columns out front, plenty of chandeliers inside, along with glossy hardwood flooring. I don’t even recognize half the people here. Bunch of oldies. I figure they’re Riley’s parents’ friends, all members of the country club. Her family must be loaded. Not my style, but Jack looks right at home chatting with her parents over by the head table. Good for him.
I glance around my table, where the non-groomsmen brothers are sitting. It’s me, Beast, and Dylan. Plus Beast’s date—he seems into her—and Dylan’s wife, Ariana, and their baby. They brought a high chair over for baby Olivia. She’s not eating, just playing around with a rattle and squishy turtle. My parents are sitting with us too, but they went off to mingle.
Someone takes Chloe’s seat, and I’m about to say the seat’s taken when I realize it’s my mom. “Hey, boo,” she says in a playful tone.
Sounds like she’s had a few glasses of champagne.
“Hey, you.” My mom’s fifty-eight, but could pass for younger. Her fair skin has only a few lines, her shoulder-length dark brown hair has zero gray in it, and she has a lot of energy. She’d have to be high energy to keep six mischievous boys in line. I was the most mischievous, but Jack was a close second with his pranks.
She beams and squeezes my shoulder. “Where’s your date?”
“She’ll be back. Just stopped in the restroom.”
“I like her. Smart, serious, a doctor!”
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“Still, I worry you’re leading her on. She’s what, twenty-one?”
“Twenty,” I mumble.
“Yeah, so when a twenty-year-old dates an older man, they might be expecting something a little more serious.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”
She smacks my shoulder. “Good one.”
“No, really. Ask her yourself.”
Her brows draw down. “Oh. The champagne must’ve dulled my mom radar.”
Beast pipes up from my other side. “He’s hoping to get out of the friend zone, but he doesn’t know how. Two words, bro: slow dance.” He gestures toward the dance floor.
His new girlfriend, Tara, smiles and rubs his chest. He places a hand over hers.
I glare at him. Like I need women advice from my little brother. “I’m not stuck in the friend zone. We want to be friends. She’s going off to med school with a lot of training ahead of her.” She’s a genius, destined for great things. And I’m not.
Sitting here surrounded by all these loving couples sucks. I’m beginning to think love is never going to happen for me. And the stupidest thing is, I never wanted that before, and now I’m jealous I don’t have it. It must be the wedding putting these ridiculous ideas in my head.
“Shh, shh,” Mom says, suddenly sitting straight. Like when the teacher shows up after leaving the kids to their own devices in the classroom. Caught! She’s definitely had her share of champagne.
I slowly turn around.
Chloe is standing there, looking from me to my mom to Beast. “Were you talking about me?” she asks in a small voice.
My mom stands and squeezes her arm. “Just saying good things, sweetie.” She looks around for my dad and makes a beeline to him. He wraps an arm around her shoulders while they talk to the other oldies.
Chloe takes her
seat, tucks her hair behind her ears, and stares at the table, looking extremely uncomfortable.
I lean close. “She was just curious about us. I said we were friends.”
She nods, still staring at the table.
Ariana waves across the table at us. “Hey, Chloe, would you like to hold Olivia? She’s been dying to play peekaboo with you again.”
“I’d love to,” Chloe says and heads over there. The moment the baby’s in her arms, she relaxes, cooing at her. I don’t know what it is about babies that brings out this warm, loving side in her. I only know I long to see more of it.
Chloe’s sitting next to me again at our table and seems relaxed after hanging with Ariana and the baby. The bridal party is dancing to a slow song, and I really want to slow dance with Chloe. I just want an excuse to touch her that won’t get me in trouble. It’s not like we’d ever make out on a dance floor surrounded by family and friends.
Chloe turns to me. “You think there’ll be any more pranks tonight?”
I lean back in my chair and look over at Jack and Riley on the dance floor. “Guarantee it. Though I’m not sure if it’ll be public. Jack might prank her on their wedding night.”
She crinkles her nose. “That’s just wrong. That should be your special romantic night, hearts and flowers stuff, don’t you think?”
“You’re missing the most important part.”
Her head whips toward mine, her eyes widening. “Bren.”
“What?”
“Don’t talk dirty to me.” She outlines a circle around herself. “Personal boundary bubble.”
I lift my palms. “I didn’t talk dirty. You filled in the blank.”
She nudges my shoulder with hers. “Besides, I don’t want to think about your brother fucking.”
Beast chuckles on my other side, and I realize her voice carried. I lower my voice, hoping she’ll do the same. Since we’re talking dirty, I keep it up. “Who do you like to think about fucking?”
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