Sloane grinned up at me, and once again, I basked in the feeling of being the hero instead of the villain. “Your smile makes me love you even more,” I confessed.
“Back at you, big guy.”
“I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and remember this,” I admitted.
“I love you, Lucian. Even if you wear suits to bed and are snooty about peanut butter brands.”
“And I love you, Sloane. Even if you drive me absolutely insane twenty-four hours a day for the rest of my life.”
“I really wish we could have sex right now,” she said. “But I appreciate the long game.”
“I’ll make up for it the second the doctor or Google gives the okay. Whichever is first.”
I kissed her again, long and hard.
“Naomi is gonna kick my ass for not telling her about this,” I heard Knox mutter distantly.
“Just tell her it was man code,” Nash advised.
“My mom is going to freak out,” Sloane predicted.
Karen: Welcome to the family, my favorite soon-to-be son-in-law!
Maeve: Don’t fuck things up.
Chloe: Uncle Lucian, as junior bridesmaid, here are a few of the designer dresses I think I would look best in for the ceremony and reception.
46
Books Save Lives
Sloane
Stop jiggling your leg,” Jeremiah ordered Lina, who looked as if she were about to bolt from his salon chair.
It was the perfect spring afternoon, and we were at Whiskey Clipper, Knockemout’s hip barber shop/salon, getting glammed for Lina and Nash’s wedding rehearsal that evening. The cool barber shop/salon was hopping on a Friday afternoon. Knox’s basset hound, Waylon, flattened himself on the floor with a chew bone while Knox was giving Vernon Quigg’s lustrous mustache a trim. Naomi was oohing and aahing over the sleek updo stylist Anastasia was assembling.
Knox’s business manager and Jeremiah’s sister, Fi, was huddled behind the front desk’s computer with Waylay as the twelve-year-old walked her through the new scheduling software.
Stef and I were on the leather couch under the front window, watching the chaos. My hair was done in a high, flirty ponytail that I gleefully knew my fiancé, Lucian Freaking Rollins, would wrap around his fist before the night was over.
The bride glared in the mirror at Jeremiah as he ruffled her short dark hair this way and that. “I’m not jiggling. You’re jiggling.”
“It’s kind of fun watching the calm, collected Lina tiptoe into a meltdown,” I mused.
Stef took a pensive sip of his whiskey and continued to frown.
“I’m not having a meltdown,” Lina said, taking obvious offense.
“Yeah, you are,” everyone in the shop except for Stef chorused.
“All of you can bite me,” she grumbled, crossing her arms under the cape.
“Are you okay?” I asked Stef. He was staring at Jeremiah and looking downright miserable.
“I’m great.” He got up, looking anything but great, and refilled his whiskey from one of the decanters on the shelf.
“Psst!”
I looked up.
Waylay nodded in Stef’s direction. “What’s his problem?” she mouthed.
I shrugged and made a face.
Jeremiah spun Lina’s chair around to face him. “Listen up, you fierce, beautiful badass. I don’t think you’re nervous about getting married. I think you’re nervous about the wedding.”
“Is there a difference?” Lina asked dryly.
“I’ve seen you with Nash. You’re excited about being married. About starting your lives together. Don’t let wedding day jitters make you doubt that.”
Lina opened her mouth, then shut it again. “Huh,” she said.
Naomi tiptoed her chair around to face the bride. “He’s right. Not everyone is excited about being a bride, the center of attention all day. But I know you. And I know you’re thrilled to be a wife.”
Lina’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, thank God. I thought there was something wrong with me.”
“No, but there’s something wrong with me,” Stef said, knocking back the fresh whiskey and slamming the glass down.
Fi took the lollipop out of her mouth. “Uh, what’s happening here?”
Waylon dropped his chew bone and tip-tapped over to Stef’s feet.
Stef marched over to Jeremiah. “Your apartment is gross,” he announced.
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.
“It really is,” Fi agreed. “Who disassembles a motorcycle in their living room?”