Chapter Twelve
Foster: So, I may or may not have set up a candlelight dinner on the balcony. Without the actual candles, of course. The wind kept blowing them out.
Atticus: Mhmm. I’m into that. I’ll pick out a nice bottle from the wine room.
Foster: No need. I’ve got everything covered.
Atticus: Everything? **winking badly with both eyes**
Foster: Everything.
Atticus: I had a thought today while listening to a long spiel from my lawyers. We should get married?
Foster: You had a thought about us getting married while listening to lawyers?
Atticus: Yes. In my defense, I’ve been considering this for a while. I just hadn’t thought of a good way to bring up the topic. All their yammering gave me time to mull things over. So, what do you think?
Foster: Did you just ask me to marry you THROUGH A TEXT MESSAGE?
Atticus: Yes. I can ask you to your face too, if you’d like? I already have the ring.
Foster: God, this is so typically you.
Atticus: Was that a yes?
Foster: FFS. Yes.
Atticus: You’re so dramatic. I love you.
Foster: You’re such an asshole. I love you, too.
Atticus: Does that mean we can get married this weekend?
Foster: *sigh* Yes.
Atticus: That’s the spirit.
Watching Foster marry the man he loved had been a beautiful sight.
He had a great time people-watching. Atticus had looked so earnest while saying his vows.
Crisp never saw the guy serious about anything.
With the actual wedding at its end, Crisp stole his chance to eye everyone surrounding him.
Tidy sat on his left, and Field sat on his right.
Foster hadn’t asked anyone to stand up with him.
If he had, there wouldn’t be any guests.
Plus, that was just Foster. He always stood alone.
Foster was Crisp’s best friend. Well, Tidy and Foster kind of tied for that label.
But even he didn’t know why Foster felt so alone in their family, sometimes.
He was blood-related to some of their brothers.
That hadn’t mattered much to Foster, as far as Crisp had seen.
It was nice to see him stand so proudly with Atticus.
He had to admit Atticus was very personable.
Atticus was a chameleon, of sorts. He became whoever he needed to be minute to minute.
It was fascinating to watch. They were lucky to have found each other.
“You look handsome in this suit.” The comment had Crisp’s gaze jumping to the pair seated in front of him. The chef, Fabrice, stared at Atticus’ longtime butler as if waiting for a response to his compliment.
Kirkland finally glanced Fabrice’s way when it became obvious Fabrice wouldn’t stop focusing on him until he answered. “I’m twice your age.”
A smile snapped to Crisp’s lips. The two were like watching a tennis match.
“You don’t know how old I am.”
Kirkland looked scandalized. “I know I’m at least old enough to be your father.”
Fabrice shrugged. “Maybe I have daddy issues. You don’t know.”
Crisp fought for his life to stop a loud cackle from bursting out. He loved listening in on other people’s drama. It gave him something to talk about later. Not to mention, he had grown pretty damn close to Fabrice since moving to Hawaii. Fabrice was in his “hoe phase” and Crisp loved that for him.
Fabrice turned in his seat and focused on Crisp. “You know what we talked about earlier? I have everything covered.”
Crisp dipped his chin. “Thanks for that.”
Fabrice winked and went straight back to tormenting Kirkland. “You should save me a dance later.”
Kirkland’s sigh was legendary.
Fabrice chuckled. It was low and wicked.
Crisp had no idea why Fabrice enjoyed torturing the poor man, and that was all it was.
There wasn’t much Fabrice hated more than dancing, even though he always got stuck having to do so at every event.
The thing that really got Crisp was why Kirkland didn’t just walk away.
Vows had been exchanged. Technically, everyone simply waited for the reception to start.
Not to mention, he was pretty dang certain Kirkland had chosen the chair next to Fabrice.
They didn’t have assigned seating. He wondered if anyone had started taking bets yet on how long it would take for them to end up together?
Then again, maybe it was just being at a wedding.
Watching people pledge to love each other forever made people look too closely at their lives.
Either they landed on finding a hookup for the night or proposing to their other half.
Of course, then there were people like him.
When he looked too closely at this wedding, he just felt sad.
Not because Foster married. Crisp genuinely wanted that life for Foster.
It was just that everything had felt different for a long time now.
This wedding was like the end of an era.
The only people who still felt like family were Field, who he never saw; Foster, who had just gotten married and was completely focused on his marriage; and Tidy, who would never leave his side.
The world had gotten a lot smaller for him.
The loss of his brothers sat heavily on his soul.
It wasn’t like Crisp didn’t realize he was the one who changed with that DNA test. The thing was, though, he had already felt like an outsider before science proved his theory true.
He was the cleanup crew. The afterthought.
No one ever really noticed him. Crisp wasn’t special in any way.
He’d been forced to focus on new things since those test results.
Unfortunately, the new bits of his life were killing him too. Well, the secrets were.
Everyone stood and made their way to the reception area by the pool. Crisp made a beeline for Foster. He didn’t want Foster to think he didn’t care, but Crisp felt his mental health slipping after spending so much time with his brothers. Crisp needed to get away.
He pasted on a bright smile when he spotted Foster. “Congratulations!”
Foster hugged him. Happiness practically oozed from his pores. “Thanks, Crispy. This is definitely a day I never expected.”
Crisp kept his smile in place despite his mood and the hated nickname.
His smile wasn’t entirely fake. He was happy for Foster.
Crisp was just sad for himself. The only way he would have this was by walking away and vanishing.
That hurt. He really loved Foster. “I didn’t know who would snag you, but I knew someone would. You’re too big of a catch to ignore.”
Foster rolled his eyes. It was good to see how genuine his smile was. Somehow, Atticus made Foster glow. Crisp saw what appealed to Foster. His new husband was gorgeous and always cocky.
Atticus threw his arm across Crisp’s shoulder.
“He is irresistible, isn’t he?” He quickly leaned close to Crisp’s ear when Field tackled-hugged Foster.
Atticus lowered his voice for only Crisp’s ears to hear.
“I grabbed two slices of cake when no one was looking. It’s on our side for the cutting.
No one will notice. I gave them to Fabrice to put with the rest of your nightly haul.
” He pulled away and kept going, ensuring no one noticed his sidebar.
“I know Foster is so grateful you’re here. ”
Foster looked their way at the mention of his name and nodded along.
Atticus squeezed him. “I’m grateful too.”
Crisp’s smile got harder to hold. The itch to run was too much.
Thankfully, Atticus directed Foster’s attention to a different guest before lowering his voice again.
“Run.” The whispered command was all Crisp needed to get out of there.
He flashed Atticus a grateful smile and slipped away unnoticed.
He quickly gathered the food cart Fabrice had hidden for him.
The huge rolling contraption was filled with champagne and plated dinners.
Wedding cake too, apparently. He checked in every direction, making sure he wasn’t seen as he shut himself away from the world.
A soft yet deep chuckle behind him as he shut the door had Crisp’s eyes falling closed. He took his first easy breath.
“You look like you just survived a prison break.”
Crisp turned and held the hazel stare he couldn’t live without. “That’s how it feels. It’s getting rowdy out there.”
“I noticed. You’re back now. It’s okay to breathe.”
As if the words were the permission his body needed, Crisp took another calming breath. Sometimes people found peace in the strangest places. Crisp just hoped his version of paradise didn’t end up getting someone killed.
A night of heated glances and love had Atticus high on life.
Logically, Atticus knew the drastic change to his life over the past year should have him feeling some sort of way.
He had gone from countless nights at Affinity and working nonstop to peace and overflowing with love.
Atticus had never felt so human, and he heard how trite his thoughts were.
But Atticus wouldn’t give up a second of being with Foster.
He knew if anyone else who had shared his bed over the years saw him now, they would probably laugh.
Never had there ever been a more no-strings-attached guy.
He wanted to say he didn’t know what happened, but he did.
Foster had healed something inside him with calm acceptance of Atticus’ every flaw.
Foster hadn’t fallen in love with a fairytale version of Atticus he wanted to create.
He had taken a hard look at the real Atticus and loved him anyway.
No one had ever done that. Foster had to be insane to marry him. Thank God.
“It was a good day.”
Atticus glanced Foster’s way at the words. The ocean breeze ruffled Foster’s hair as he stared off in the distance. The sand beneath them should have been uncomfortable. Atticus didn’t want to be anywhere else. “It was.”
Foster turned his head and met Atticus’ stare. “Did you ever believe we’d end up here?”
A loud bark of laughter burst from Atticus. “Absolutely not. Me? Married?” He laughed again. “Before I met you, I would’ve rather died.” He sobered. “But then I did meet you, and nothing about me has been the same. What were you thinking when you agreed to this?”
Foster laughed. His eyes twinkled with happiness. “I thought, wow. I really can’t get enough of this guy.”
Atticus hadn’t expected a genuine answer. “Same.”
They held each other’s gaze. It felt like a thousand conversations passed between them.
“Any regrets? You gave up a lot to live here with me?”
Atticus watched the crashing waves for a second and took the question seriously. He didn’t need to think about it. Atticus didn’t have a single fucking regret. He just didn’t know how to express genuine feelings the way other people could. It always took a second longer to process than most people.
“What did I give up?” Atticus went back to holding Foster’s gaze as he waited for an answer.
Foster shrugged. “A house. The ability to stay on top of your company. Basically, everything.”
Atticus shook his head. “You’re my everything. I could have a new house tomorrow. It’d likely only take a couple of months to move my entire headquarters here. All of those things are negotiable, easy fixes. Nothing would ever be right again without you.”
Foster flashed him a sweet smile. “Look at you becoming a poet.”
Atticus’ brow furrowed in his confusion. “How was that poetry?”
Foster chuckled. “Everything that falls from your lips is beautiful.”
Goddamn. He had never stood a chance. The night they had met, Atticus had genuinely thought he could easily fuck Foster and never look back—the way he did everyone before him. Now look at him. He couldn’t even breathe properly without Foster.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I love how you’re looking at me.”
Atticus knew how he looked: aroused as hell. So much so that he had lost the ability to speak.
Foster blew out a slow breath. “You really should see yourself. I don’t know how you always turn me on with one look, but we should get home.”
“Not gonna make it.”
Hunger that matched his stared back at him for a solid heartbeat. Then they were on their feet, running toward the SUV. They laughed as they tried to fold down the seats as quickly as possible. Damn, they were about to have happiest life. They just had to survive the best night of sex ever first.
Keep an eye out for the next Killers Inc., Traitor.