Page 68 of The Best Man Wins

“When did midnight happen?” I ask.

“Sometime around the second round of egg rolls.”

I twist my neck, and my spine cracks all the way down my back. I glance behind us. Braxton is passed out on the bed. He’s half-propped up, as though he tried to stay awake and failed. His glasses are still on his face, mouth hanging open.

Marlee has curled up—literally—at his feet like a puppy. She’s clutching her phone like a teddy bear to her chest, Bluetooth still blinking on her ear.

“It looks like we’re the sole survivors,” I observe.

“Aw,” Thom coos. “Look at our children.”

“What do you think they’re going to be when they grow up?”

“A stripper and a psychologist, probably.”

“Which is which?”

A smile quirks the edge of Thom’s mouth. “I missed you, little bug.”

“I missed you too.” I nudge my shoulder against his chest briefly. “I’ve got to admit. Ace. That threw me through a loop.”

“He bullied me into it.”

I squint at him. “You? Bullied?”

Thom considers his words for a second and then adds, “I may have been feeling a little power hungry.”

“See? Honesty.” I knock my knee against his. “Now we can be friends again.”

“Cheers to that.”

Thom scrolls through the spreadsheet. Green, green, green. Every job is marked complete.

“Oh my God,” I laugh. “We did it.”

Thom tilts his head towards me. “You did it. Braxton told me about how you wrangled the bride back.”

“Of course. They love each other. She just needed to be reminded of that.”

“No of course. Don’t sell yourself short. Not just anyone could have done that,” Thom says. “You saved the wedding. I’ll be sure to tell Letty when I report back.”

Letty. That’s a small nagging problem in the back of my head, but I’ll worry about whether or not I have a job when I get back to New York later. Right now, I’m a horse with blinders, focused completely on giving Ray and Cora the wedding they deserve.

I lift my eyes back to the computer screen and worry my bottom lip between my teeth. “What now?”

Thom leans back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head. “Now, we wait. And pray.”

32

Braxton

I wake up to lips. Soft lips. Gentle kisses, one after the other. I can’t help but grin. It is a glorious way to wake up. I peek open my eyes and see Susie hovering over me. The light from the nightstand shimmers through her straw-colored hair.

“Oh, good,” I say. “I thought you were Thom.”

She cocks her head. “Disappointed?”

I scoff a laugh. Susie rests her chin on my chest.

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