13. Hendrix
HENDRIX
How do I make sure he doesn’t strip and run naked down the aisle?
You don’t.
Well then, what am I supposed to do if he does?
Laugh.
—Conversation between Hendrix and Everly
“You think she ran away?” I sign, joking as we stand at the end of the aisle less than a week later.
Jamie, Maverick, and I are all lined up shoulder to shoulder with Ryker as we wait for the bridesmaids to make their appearance, and I say a silent fucking prayer that nobody loses my kid while he’s out of my sight.
Not that there’s any chance Delaney ran. Seeing these two together at the rehearsal dinner could have gotten everyone pregnant there was so much chemistry between them. At the very least it should have made everyone in the room believe in love again.
“Nah,” Jamie laughs, but his eyes flick toward the empty aisle where Delaney should be following her bridesmaids down the aisle any time now.
“Ashton wouldn’t let Delaney leave without her, and there’s no way my wife is running anywhere these days.
She sat on the couch crying two days ago because she couldn’t see her feet. ”
Damn. I remember those days.
Britt standing in the middle of the living room, eight months pregnant, wearing one of my T-shirts and absolutely losing her shit because nothing fit, everything hurt, and she was the size of a whale.
Her words, not mine.
She wasn’t. She was beautiful.
Even when she threw the TV remote at my head for saying that.
“So that’s what I’ve got to look forward to?” Maverick asks Jamie, horror creeping into his voice. “I feel like Emmie’s barely pregnant, and she’s already crying more.”
Damn. We’ve got a hell of a lot of babies being added to our families over the next year.
“Yeah.” I smile because how can I not? “Just wait. It’s going to get worse, then all of a sudden, you have this baby crying and your wife crying and no one’s slept.
You probably smell like puke. And you’re going to look at your life and wonder how the hell you ever got so lucky. ”
Jamie, Mav, and Ryker stop and turn to me, the joking replaced with guilt.
“Don’t do that,” I cut them all off, so fucking tired of the pity.
“This is a good day. And I’m just here to remind you that life is short.
Enjoy it. Enjoy your pregnant wives.” I throw a hand on Ryker’s shoulder.
“Enjoy your new wife. The one you haven’t admitted you’re in love with yet, even though the rest of us have already seen it.
” The music changes, and I look up to see Mav’s daughter Rosie and Bodhi standing at the end of the aisle with Ryker’s wife Delaney’s pet potbellied pig on a pale-pink leash in front of them.
Not a sight I’m used to yet, but damn, my kid looks cute.
Bodhi stands beside Rosie, who takes charge, guiding him down the aisle, tossing her rose petals as the Notorious PIG pulls her forward.
My kid makes it approximately six feet before he spots my mother.
His entire face lights up as he drops Rosie’s hand and beelines for Mom.
Full sprint on chubby legs. Mom catches him against her chest as everyone laughs, and for one perfect second, so do I.
That right there is why I took the trade.
Britt was right, Bodhi needs his family.
And maybe, so do I.
I drag my eyes away from him and let them linger momentarily on her. Coppery honey-gold hair blows in the soft breeze, and suddenly, I’m eighteen again, standing on a beach, waiting for my life to start. Wanting it to start with her. Hell, wanting it to end with her too.
She’s sitting next to Rafe fucking Langley. But when our eyes catch, for a split-second, it’s as if I’m looking at my Serena again.
There’s no hate shining back at me.
Not even hurt.
Just a smile.
The most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen on any woman.
Serena Kingston has always been the most gorgeous woman in any room she’s stood in, no matter where she is.
It doesn’t matter if she’s in pajamas or wearing a soccer uniform, drenched in sweat, with pink pre-wrap holding back her hair.
She could be completely makeup-free coming out of the shower, in that little black and white bikini from senior year, or in a nude gown covered in embroidered flowers sitting ten feet away on the arm of another man.
She’s the real deal.
The whole package.
But tonight, with her long hair down around her shoulders and the fading sun catching on her coppery golden waves like we’re on the beach instead of at a wedding—looking at me like that . . . Like she doesn’t hate me . . . I have no words.
Well, almost none.
I turn back to the guys with my final piece of advice. “Worship your wife. Love your kids . . . Just enjoy life.”
Because you never know at what point the life you thought you had becomes the one you’d give anything to have back.
And second chances aren’t promised.
I should know, I’m staring at mine.
Luckily, Bodhi didn’t strip naked during the ceremony. I’ll take the win, even if he yanked off his bowtie and kicked off his shoes like it was killing him not to. And really, who could blame him anyway?
We survived pictures with Ryker and his wife and the entire bridal party . . . barely.
When the photographer asked Bodhi to smile, he told him he already had.
I kinda want to see the picture he snapped then. Those smiles were definitely real.
By the time cocktail hour ended, he’d danced with Mom twice, ate enough junk to be up all night with a stomachache, and flirted with every woman in a fifty-mile radius. Kid’s going to be a heartbreaker one day.
Even if he was disappointed to realize it wasn’t today.
Thankfully, Gracie’s nanny picked him up and took him back to Ares’s and her house for the night.
Fuck. I need a nanny.
“Henny . . .” Delaney stops beside me, a glass of water with a slice of lemon in hand, and rests her head on my shoulder like we’re old friends.
“Are the Kingstons overwhelming you yet?” I ask, only partially kidding.
She looks up, feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Say the word, and I’ll grab the getaway car.”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” She motions to the dance floor, a small smile on her face. “Want to tell me who you’re staring at?”
“Not really,” I laugh. “Want to tell me who you’re hiding from?”
“Does it count if I say everyone?”
“Oh yeah.” I grab a mini quiche from a passing waiter and offer it to her. “You know, I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, Delaney.”
Her cheeks flush as she shakes her head.
“Trust me, I’ve known him a long damn time. He’s like another brother. One way less obnoxious than mine. And I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him as happy as he is with you. That makes you family. If you ever need anything, and Ryker’s not around, you call me, okay?”
Delaney shakes her head and sips her water as Ryker joins us. “Trying to steal my wife, Hendrix?”
“Not steal. More like save,” I joke and Ryker glares.
“I’m the only one saving her, asshole.”
“Nobody’s saving me from anything tonight, husband,” she says sweetly and kisses Ryker’s cheek. “But I am trying to figure out who Henny is staring at.”
Damn. Delaney’s got to work on her sign language. I’m not sure she got any of that right.
Good thing Ryker can read lips.
“Henny?” I arch a brow. “Have you been around my sisters?”
Delaney smiles sweetly. “Don’t avoid the question.” She bats her lashes at Ryker before looking back at me. “Come on. You look like you’re ready to play Kiss Marry Kill with the women on the dance floor.”
“You know it’s Fuck Marry Kill, right Bambi?” Ryker teases before looking out over the inlaid wooden dance floor brought in just for tonight. “Not Kiss.”
I ignore my friends and go right back to watching the woman I’ve absolutely been staring at since Bodhi walked down the aisle.
She’s dancing with Langley now, his hand resting on the bare skin at the small of her back.
My teeth grind as I look away, trying to convince myself it’s fine.
Because it fucking has to be. Men put their hands on women when they dance all the damn time.
It doesn’t mean I should walk over there and remove his hands from his fucking body.
Doesn’t stop me from wanting to though.
Serena laughs at something he says, and my hands fist at my side.
Fucking hell. She’s allowed to laugh and date and build an entire life that doesn’t include me. I had my chance. We had our chance. In more ways than one. And every time life handed us another open door, one of us managed to slam it fucking closed.
But still . . . His hand moves slightly lower, and I see red.
“Isn’t that your cousin?” Delaney asks Ryker and his head whips my way before the fucker laughs.
“Serena? You’re staring at Serena?” He shakes his head and wraps a hand around Delaney’s waist pulling her closer. “Hope you know what you’re doing, man.”
I want to tell him to fuck off. Or maybe tell him he doesn’t know the half of it. But I don’t need to.
“Be nice to him,” Delaney warns. “I think they’d be cute together.”
“Bambi . . . you’re supposed to pick my side.”
There are times in a man’s life when he needs to defend himself. Set the record straight.
Now is not one of those times.
Nope. Time to back away. Slowly.
But I somehow manage to jump straight from the flames into the fire.
A fire, or more accurately, a firecracker named Olivia St. James.
She shakes her head as I approach, maybe in warning.
That’s interesting. Is she warning me to be nice to her date?
Liv never brings a date to these things, so he’s probably already been put through his paces. Can’t hurt to do it again though. “You gonna introduce me to your friend, Livvy?”
I know exactly who Logan Adler is.
Captain of the New Jersey Nobles hockey team, and a hell of a hockey player. He’s also Rafe Langley’s brother. And judging by the I’m about to piss on Liv’s foot expression on his face, I’d say he’s also Liv’s date.
“Logan Adler.” He offers me his hand. “Her”—he looks at Liv for a second, as if asking permission for something before settling on his answer—“friend.”