Page 17 of The First Best Man

“Bathroom,” I offer. “There was a little mishap with the beer.”

Sam snickers at that, and I swear Tucker’s cheeks turn a bit ruddy. Is he…blushing? No way. It must be a trick of the lighting in here.

Clearing his throat, Tucker pulls our list of clues from his pocket, along with his phone, and proceeds to show Penny, Logan, and Sam the pictures we took as we solved each one. When he gets to the wildflowers, his head snaps in my direction with a stern expression that shouts, “Don’t you dare give any more details about that.”

I try to hide my wide grin behind my glass as I sip my beer, and Tucker’s gaze narrows before he returns his attention to the rest of the group. Penny claps and officially declares us the winners.

Blaine emerges from the bathroom, looking like a pissed off angel who’s trying to appear serene and failing. Her expression turns darker as she eyes Penny, who’s taken her seat, then she sighs and slides into the last empty chair between Logan and Sam. Penny’s eyes dart in my direction for a fraction of a second, just long enough to give me a mental high-five.

God, I love her.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asks, leaning closer to his sister.

“Nothing,” she says, offering the weakest, fakest smileever. “Everything is fine.”

Miguel appears beside our table with the biggest platter of tacos I’ve ever laid eyes on. “I know I offered a free meal to the winners, but I can’t let the happy couple pay for their own food. So, with my heartfelt congratulations…”

His words trail off as he sets the platter down in the center of the table, adding, “Buen provecho.”

Penny gushes and thanks him as Logan shakes his hand. We pass around the plates a waitress provides, and everyone digs into the tacos. Everyone except Blaine. That one orders a small salad with the dressing on the side, no croutons, and no cheese.

I look down at my own plate, filled with no less than four greasy, cheesy tacos, and I suddenly feel a bit self-conscious. But before I can backtrack and copy Blaine’s order, Tucker leans in and places a fifth taco on my plate next to the rest. When I look over at him, he smiles gently and nods toward my food.

“More for us,” he whispers, and I can’t stop my lips from twitching upward.

We eat. We laugh. We drink way too manycervezas.

And that’s before the shots of tequila start showing up, courtesy of the townsfolk dining around us tonight. Everyone knows what we’re celebrating, and I guess they want to be a part of it. Who am I to insult them by rejecting their offerings?

So, against my better judgement, I toss back every round that appears in front of me. I don’t want to be rude, right?

When the karaoke guy gets his equipment set up and announces that he’s now filling slots, Penny holds up her hands to get our attention.

“We may all be eating for free tonight, but Kate and J.T. still get the rest of their prize. Who’s singing first?”

“Might as well get this over with,” Blaine mutters as she stands, then walks over to the karaoke booth to put in her song with the master-of-ceremonies.

She’s the first one, so she hops right up on the stage after accepting a microphone from the host. It only takes a few beats to recognize the song she’s picked, and I have to fight hard not to stick my finger in my mouth and make gagging noises in response.

And to make matters even more uncomfortable, Blaine blatantly eyes Tucker while singing every line of “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye in a husky, slightly off-key voice. I glance over to see his reaction, and there’s no denying his discomfort as he shifts in his seat and avoids looking up at her.

I catch Penny’s eye and subtly nod toward him, and she rolls her own eyes in response. As much as she loves Logan, she’s never been a huge fan of his sister. She only asked Blaine to be a bridesmaid for Logan’ssake. He wants so desperately for the two of them to get along. To one day be sisters, for real. But he’s also not blind to his sister’s attitude and antics, and really appreciates the effort Penny has been putting in to make his dreams a reality.

I’m doubtful it’ll ever happen, but Penny’s a good sport for trying.

Penny pulls Logan up onto the stage next, and they both dance while singing “Tequila” by The Champs, if you can even call it that. It literally has three words, and all of them aretequila.

“Cheaters,” I call out, slurring the word as they laugh and head back to our table.

Woo.How many shots have I had?

I have no idea, but I do know getting up there and singing sounds like a great idea right about now. I push myself up, and Tucker’s hands land on my hips to steady me when I sway in his direction. I wrap my fingers around his wrists and tug them upward, zero strength behind the move, but he pops up out of his chair like I’m Thor, or something.

“Come on,” I say, the words slow and drawn out. “I wanna sing with you.”

To Tucker’s credit, he doesn’t even attempt to deny me the request. He simply offers me his arm, and I take it since I’m still feeling a bit unbalanced. Putting in the song, I join Tucker on the stage and stand behind the microphone.

“This one is for Penny and Logan,” I say a little too loudly into the mic as the opening strains of “I Got You Babe” start to play. “May you always be as happy as Sonny and Cher when they sang this song.”

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