Chapter Three
Tommy
“It’s been a while since you slept over here,” Gene said, laughing as he came into the living room where Tommy had crashed on the couch.
“Now that my life isn’t falling apart, I noticed how shitty your couch actually is.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll let you buy me a new one anytime, but until then, don’t be a choosy beggar.” He stood over Tommy with a fresh cup of coffee. “If you hadn’t invited Ben and Gavin to your wedding, you could’ve had the guest room.”
“Yeah, well, you three are the closest I’ve got to friends, so.” He’d only seen Ben a couple of times since meeting him on the worst night of Tommy’s life, not so long ago, and he’d only met Gavin once, but he liked them both, so good enough.
Gene laughed and shook his head. “So much sentiment so early in the morning.” He passed the coffee to Tommy before plopping down into his recliner. “Tell me again why two guys who live together decided they shouldn’t see each other before the wedding.”
“His mother insisted.” Tommy took a sip and rolled his eyes.
“Superstitious?”
“Or just wanted me out of her hair until it’s time to start.”
“That sounds more likely,” Ben said from behind Tommy. “No one in their right mind would want you around until the last possible second.”
Tommy flipped him off. “That why I wasn’t invited to your wedding?”
“Don’t blame me. Gavin was in charge of the guest list.”
Gavin walked in, put his arms around Ben from behind, and stood on his tiptoes, grinning at Tommy from over Ben’s shoulder. “I’ll invite you to my next wedding, Tommy.”
Ben reached around and slapped Gavin on the ass for that, but they both laughed.
“Should start introducing him as your first husband.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Gavin said but pulled away too quickly for Ben to get revenge. “Breakfast? Or are you too nervous to eat?” he asked as he went into the little kitchen, already pulling things out of the fridge.
“Why should I be nervous?”
With a shrug, Ben said, “What if you fuck up your vows or your man changes his mind or it rains on everything or someone chokes and dies at your reception or there’s a freak earthquake?”
“Jesus, Ben,” Gavin said with a laugh.
Tommy shrugged. “Then I can rest easy knowing shit don’t change for me.”
A half hour later, they sat at Gene’s little dining table, eating scrambled eggs and toast, looking at pictures of Ben and Gavin’s house, their little nephew toddling around, their dog. But Tommy was too distracted to really care. Not nervous, but he wanted to get the show on the road. He had over an hour before he was supposed to be home, and he’d already showered, shaved, made sure his suit was pressed and ready.
When he started to fidget, Gene smirked at him. “You sure you’re not getting a little anxious there, Tommy?”
“Nope,” Tommy said as he got to his feet and started to pace. “Just…” He patted down his pockets, wanting a cigarette, but he hadn’t brought any, didn’t want Bobby to taste it on him when they kissed or the kids to smell it on him. Damn it.
Gene laughed. “Mine are on the deck. I won’t tell Bobby.”
Tommy thought it over for about three seconds and, in the end, figured Bobby probably already assumed he’d have a few, so why the hell not? He stepped out on the deck, lit up, and let the first drag out in a slow, long exhale. Christ. Why did that make everything feel so much better? He really needed to actually quit. Like, as in, not another one for the rest of his life. But maybe that could start tomorrow.
Before he knew it, though, it was time to get dressed—and brush his teeth again—and head to the house and, okay, yeah, maybe he was a little nervous. Not because he thought Bobby would change his mind—though who could blame the guy if he did—and not because he thought the weather would suddenly turn on them or he’d forget his vows. How can you forget something you didn’t write out and plan? But whatever happened, he just didn’t want Bobby let down in any way. He wanted Bobby smiling all day. Wanted Bobby smiling for the rest of their daman lives. And was Tommy really the person to make that happen? He wasn’t sure, but he’d give it a shot and hope for the best.
Bobby
Bobby let out a sharp exhale as Judy ran her hands down his shoulders and picked a small piece of dog hair off his jacket. “You look so handsome,” she said, her eyes shining.
“Thanks, Ma.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, hoping she understood he meant it for more than just the compliment. “How many cigarettes do you think he’s had this morning?” he asked with a laugh.
“If he’s not still smoking when he walks down the aisle, I think we should call it a win.”
Colleen came around the corner then, wearing a sky-blue dress and silver heels, her hair tied back in some elaborate twist that Carrie had learned how to do off YouTube or TikTok or wherever. “Wow, Bobby, you look hot in that getup.”
“Yeah?” He knew he did. He’d been glad when Tom okayed his Class A because it was impossible not to look good in it. “Think Tom will like it?”
“Well, he’s marrying a cop, so I guess he better.”
Judy laughed. “And it’s too late now to second-guess.”
“He’s here!” Carrie came tearing around the corner, her dress billowing around her knees, the dog chasing at her side.
“Everyone in their seats?” Judy asked, and Colleen nodded.
“Mike and Davey got everyone in their spot. Collin is watching the twins.”
“Where’d they put your father?” Bobby asked, having overheard Mike and Davey joke about seating him by the garbage can or putting him in the back.
Colleen rolled her eyes. “I moved him to the second row on Tommy’s side. Don’t ask where they had him before that.”
“I won’t.” He could guess. And, really, Bobby had just as many mixed feelings about Cal being there as Tom did—maybe more because Tom was the one to invite him, and Bobby wouldn’t have in a million years. But it was Tom’s choice, so Bobby would be okay with it. Right? Right.
They’d talked a lot—a lot being about three minutes, one time, after sex but before sleep—about whether they’d walk down together or if one would wait at the altar or what. In the end, they decided they’d walk down together, holding hands, no best man for either of them, just the two of them up at the front, spit out their vows, and get on with life. It was exactly the kind of no-fuss arrangement they’d wanted.
Though, in the end, everyone had insisted on Zoe as a flower girl and Max as a ring bearer, so there was that.
Judy gave Bobby one quick kiss on the cheek, wiped her lipstick off his face, and went to get the twins in place while the girls went to their seats with the rest of the kids. And Bobby stood alone, just inside the house, at the patio door, and waited for Tom.