Page 10 of First Comes Marriage

He just hadn’t thought Sabrina had felt that way.

So damn-fucking-right he wore suits now. He wasn’t the loser her family had thought he was anymore. He’d made something of himself, and if he wanted to broadcast that to the entire goddamn world through a wardrobe full of tailored business wear, he would.

Sabrina’s eyes raked over him, something like interest sparking in their depths as they lingered on the pull of his suit jacket over his biceps and the flat planes of his stomach. He bit back a smirk.

Good. He wanted her to want him, the guy who hadn’t been good enough to marry her sister. Wanted her to sit there in that fucking tease of a dress and squirm thinking about all the things he could do to make her scream his name.

If he didn’t hate her, that is.

“You’re different,” she said, sadness pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s been ten years.”

“No, it’s not that. You didn’t use to be this…cold.”

He grunted, draining his drink.

“The morning of your wedding—”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Sebastian, you deserve to know. That morning—”

“I’m not fucking talking about this,” he growled. “It won’t change anything.”

“It might.”

“What would it change?”

“Maybe you wouldn’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Sabrina.” He dug a handful of bills out of his wallet and tossed them on the table as he got to his feet, buttoning his suit jacket. “I don’t feel anything for you at all.”

Chapter Four

Then

“I never would’ve believed you’d be the next of us to tie the knot,” Ethan said, shaking his head as he refilled Baz’s tumbler of Scotch from the bar cart in the corner of the groomsmen’s suite at The Barclay.

Baz waved him away. “Get out of here with that. Don’t want to be drunk when I walk down the aisle.”

Ethan shrugged and took a sip from the glass himself before setting it down.

“You nervous?” Gavin asked.

“Not really.”

“The reality hasn’t sunk in yet, that’s all,” Jamie teased.

Baz supposed he should be nervous. Two hundred of his closest friends and family had gathered to watch him get married. Who was he kidding? There were about twenty people there for him and the rest were Holly’s guests.

“I was nervous as h-e-double-hockey-sticks on my wedding day,” Gavin said.

Brodie, Gavin’s thirteen-year-old son, looked up from his handheld video game. “I’m a teenager now, old man. You can say ‘hell’around me.”

“Is it bad that I’m not nervous?” Baz asked, turning to his friends, genuine concern sinking into his gut.

“Don’t overthink it,” Ethan said.

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