Page 3 of Knocked Up by my Best Friend's Brothers

Just in time, too, as the rest of Teagan’s bridesmaids come in from the other end of the lobby, where the powder room is.

Teagan’s uncle calls out from the top of the stairs. “I’m coming, honey!”

“Take your time, Uncle Zeddy. We’ve got another minute before the girls go in.”

“Ready?” I ask Teagan.

She tears up but quickly blinks the waterworks away. “As I’ll ever be.”

Once we’re at the reception, I realize I need more alcohol.

But if have a fifth glass of champagne, I will inevitably slip. I’ll do something colossally dumb or reckless. Teagan should know—she knows me better than anyone—yet here she comes, the lovely bride in her sparkling white gown, veil flowing down her bare back and diamonds twinkling at the base of her neck… holding up a fifth glass of champagne for me.

“Tee, you want me to get wrecked, don’t you?” I mutter, but I take the glass anyway.

“My sister from another mister, I haven’t seen you in years, and this is a special occasion, to say the least. We’ve got so much catching up and so much celebrating to do!” Teagan replies.

We clink and wish each other everything that’s good in this world, laughing and reminiscing about our younger days before I left for college and put Portland behind me. The joy on her face, the love in her gaze as she smiles at her new husband fills me with relief. Teagan needed a great man in her life. I hope he treats her the way she deserves to be treated.

“I’m honestly so happy for you,” I tell Teagan. “I pray to all the gods that Tony makes you the happiest you’ve ever been.”

“He rises to the occasion every damn time. And he’s not intimidated by my brothers, either, which was such a green flag.”

I chuckle softly. “I suppose Tony knows those three will string him up by his entrails if he does you wrong.”

“He knows they’ll string him up, but only after I’m done with him, first.”

I give her a sly grin. “That’s my girl”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asks.

“I should be asking you that,” I reply. “It’s your wedding.”

“Sure, but I want all of my guests to have a blast tonight. Especially you, my darling Maid of Honor.” She puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a hug. “You were amazing earlier. My rock, my voice of reason!”

“Is that why you’re trying to get me drunk?” I joke.

The wedding photographer wants to take our picture. “Smile!”

“Oh, no,” I whisper, suddenly stiff as hell and stupidly self-conscious.

“Put your boobs out,” Teagan encourages me.

The photographer moves on, snapping candid moments here and there.

Everyone is dressed to impress. Snazzy tuxedos and shimmering wristwatches, diamond-encrusted cuff links and perfectly polished shoes. Gorgeous gowns in layers of satin and tulle, embroidered silks and dainty lace, sleek pumps and opulent jewels adorning the slender necks and delicate ears of the ladies.

“Earth to Christa!” Teagan calls out.

“What?” I innocently smile. “Sorry. I’m just overwhelmed by all this beauty and style.”

“Well, when a Hawthorne gets married, the whole of Portland’s gotta show up and look the part,” she says. “I wanted a small wedding, but my brothers wouldn’t hear of it.”

“You’re their little sister. Of course.”

“Speaking of, where are those three?” she mumbles, her hazel eyes scanning the crowd. “I need to make sure we’ve got enough champagne for the rest of the night. Our uncles drink like Irishmen and I can see the waiters are struggling already.”

I follow her gaze, and I see them. “There they are, by the chocolate fountain.”

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